LOVESICK AVENUE

Al mio amore,


all that is being asked from love is honesty and trust. i find it rather amusing that one should be willing to make empty promises.promises should be kept and fulfilled. but then, its life. with the seduction of ego and the worldly beauties one would be ready to break all promises or even make empty promises. its rather depressing to know that the usual cases of break ups are about the two. Honesty and trust.



nowadays, the value of speech is lost. with the freedom of speech, everyone can speak. the kindergarten kid can speak, the gardener can speak, even the mute can speak through sign language. but do we ask ourselves, when we speak, who listens? the things that we speak on, does it hold anything for others? Empty! what ever that we speak on is just plain words. none of it holds any knowledge. not anymore. unlike the past, there is wisdom in what ever is being spoken about. there is knowledge in every speech. people value the words of the wise. people listen when the elder speaks. look around, you'll see that everyone is talking but no one is listening.



the same goes for love.now the word love means nothing new or sacred. nothing revered or respected. everyone wants to be in love. even the young ones are being in love. but when asked about love, one cant speak on the true value or terms of love. how can this be? when we are created, its through love. when Adam was created, its because of love although the love was not for him or his. everything we do encompasses love. have we lost the essence of love? what happen to the love that used to be so revered and sacred?

Al mio amore

apologies for the hiatus and lack of updates. i have considered closing down this blog, but like they say, finish what you started. therefore if i had really want to close this blog, there must be a reason to it, which now i could not find any.



Love is one special feeling that is being given to us by our Lord. it seems almost impossible to understand the meaning of love. Ask Romeo what is love and he will tell you its Juliet. Ask Shakespeare and he will instead tell you its English and theater. Ask our Mozart and he will tell you its music. so what is love? how do we define it? what does it mean to us?



i have been to places around Singapore. observing the advances of technology and the growth of industries. But one thing doesn't change, i find that there is lack of the understanding of love. the Malay hooligans take love as something to be expressed through words like poem and songs. although i must say, some of their works are very good. i would not dare to comment on other races because i dont feel fit to do so until my race can prove to me otherwise. However lets take a bold step and have a look at ourselves. how are we treating love? but because of the high level of love, i rather we ask ourselves how are we treating ourselves? Have we been treating ourselves right? look at some of us, piercing here and there, tatoo here and there. look at the hair colour, some shades of brown, red or even green. and thats just the physical factors, have we asked ourselves about our spirituality?


Look at our ego, how it is controling us. look at the time when we wanted to drink, instead of sips we take huge gulp. for food, we only eat whats nice. some even is choosy of what they eat! have we forgotten our brothers and sisters in the third world society? how they live in poverty, how each day they struggle to live, while here in our society we hear suicide cases almost everyday. arent we ashame? we should all take a leaf out of the books of our less fortunate brothers and sisters in the third world society. learn from them, for they can teach you what books and school cant.


I had always believed that school was a good place to learn. but i was proven wrong. schools these days teach us nothing. instead they only teach us to read, write and memorise. if i had asked you to summarise for me a news paper article, i think most of you cant do it. but if i had asked you to name me a fruit, or a place, all of you can. and if i had asked you about how we are created and where we come from almost all of you will give me a Darwin-ised answer, which is the theory of evolution. funny, how muslim oriented school claims to teach everything muslim oriented teaching, but when asked about spirituality, it fails to give an answer. doesnt islam compromises of spirituality too? why such neglegence?


not forgetting other schools of thought and religion. let me end with quote a sheykh from one of his speech

The schools are only teaching people lying and cheating these days. They know that the theory of evolution, Darwinism is finished. It is bankrupt. But they are still teaching. Everything is on that. The foundations of schools are on that theory. All those children that are studying and coming out of the schools, now their foundation is evolution which is completely against creation. So they are going to become ignorant. So ignorant that they are not going to know that they are ignorant. Taking one man's word, ordinary man. Who is this man? Who is this Darwin? Why are you accepting him? (I am saying to the Chrisitan world) You are accepting Darwin and putting his books in the schools and universities. You say you are accepting Jesus but you are not using his book in the schools. What kind of nonsense is this? (Shaykh smiling). You are saying, "Jesus is the Lord. We are the creatures, he is the creator." But you are not teaching in the schools to these people about that and you are teaching about Darwinism, about Sheytan. The same thing is with the Muslims and the same thing is with the Jews. In the Muslims countries they say, "We are Muslims. We are accepting Allah and His Prophet." But no school is teaching anything about Holy Prophet (alayhi salatu wa salam). With the Jews it is the same thing. They are not teaching about Moses or the Tewrat. So everywhere in the world they are concentrating to teach people Darwinism. Evolution.

Dearest ________________,

A secret admirer. That's what they say, isn't it? I have been secretive, until now, and I suppose I do admire you, but that's only when your back is turned. 30 minutes a day�that's how long I get to admire you, and then it's back to the 23 � hours of wretched, seething love.


Do I love you when you are next to me? A little. But not as much as when we are separated�by traffic and daily planners and radio waves and the denizens of our lives�no, not as much as I love you when your only incarnation is in my mind, your smile demands mental replay and your body's attitude and altitude insist on being remeasured and firmly memorized. The trap that catches my dreams...but there is no permanence to dreams. They leave no evidence, not like you really would. A strand of long, dark hair on the pillowcase, a fingerprint on the countertop, even a blown kiss would have more mass than a dream.

But what else can one do when they love someone so much? No, there it is again. That word, love, used incorrectly. Not appropriate for my situation. It takes two to love. Two people playing simultaneous roles as Lover & Beloved. Two people sharing space and air and radiating heat and intentions. Not us, however. Instead of two, we have one and one. One of us is alone and hateful to the world for being so crowded, this city for being so wide and having so many places to hide (I don't even know where you live! Where are you right now? A coffee shop wrapped in a scarf and leaning as I've seen you do, intently over a paperback? A friend's apartment calling to her from the hallway? In your own home, privately clenching and releasing your own white toes?) And the other is accompanied everywhere by a vanilla scent, long lashes, and refracted light.

You have your tricks, I'm sure, of hiding this or that blemish or accentuating your eyes, but I know that if it was all washed away or stripped what would remain would be exceptionally fine, bright, and smooth. Have I hit upon it? The one dominant characteristic of yours that causes you to rule my thoughts? I believe it is: I haven't touched you, but I know you are smooth like a stone fold of a Michelangelo statue, smooth like the lightly packed sand of an Asiatic shore, smooth like the cheek of god. Maybe that's what really tempted me: the thought of touching something so finely crafted, so treacherously inviting, something so close to perfect that it makes me shudder to even be around you for fear that through some mishap I'll mar or brand you. But I won't. I have faith in that notion. I could never wear down the elemental beauty of your skin even with my raw lips and sawdust hands, not even with the thousand caresses I hope to make possible.

Yes, I want to make it happen. No longer content to be secret or only admiring, I am baring all. But it's not something I can will into existence or bribe a god for�I have to just hope that it's possible that you would want the same thing I want: an inescapable love. I want to find you in the morning's rays, I want to watch your leg emerge from behind the shower curtain, I want you to sit on my knee at parties so that everyone knows. I don't want to waste time with flirting; I want to leap headfirst into a shared mesmerization, an unflinching fascination between us two. I want to greedily hoard all of your secrets and wishes, I want to peel the skin off your back after you've been sunburned, I want to touch your body in the places that push against the seams and stretches fabric, I want to unclasp and untie and loosen everything that you are until it can breathe and exist freely in my presence. I want to push my face into your neck and sleep skin to skin.

I want an unstoppable love with you. I want a love that can resist black holes and nuclear war. I want a love that spans decades and becomes an iconic phenomenon that is printed on T-shirts and coffee mugs. I want a love so powerful that glass breaks around us as we walk, a romance so intense that others can't even look directly at us without going blind. I want you and I to feel interminably enraptured, to be so fierce that no one will ever love again, that love will be outlawed because of its dangerous nature, that writers will put down their pens and brushes will hit the floor as artists open their hands�because neither the poets nor the painters, neither the composers nor the moviemakers are compelled or able to convey what we are. I want loving you to sustain me instead of bread and water, and I want loving you to kill me, to collapse my heart when I am older than old and the world has been laid to waste by the pulsing shockwaves of our kisses.

I want you, _____________.

So write, so call, so contact me in any way. Don't delay unless delaying will make you even more passionate about our first encounter. I have not even folded this paper, and I am already impatient for your response, for your touches and clenches and exhalations...

Respond to me, and I will respond to you. Until that charged moment, I remain,

Yours,

____________

Al mio amore,

Believe is the key to attaining the best of both world. what i mean by both world is for oneself and the target reach one is striving towards. it is not hard to see what i mean. When you belive in yourself, you attain what we call a confident boost, or a higher morale. In relationships and such, this is really important. surely you do not want to live all your life with someone who is not confident and is afraid to reach new hights. but then again, we need to have a balance. in any relationship if balcance is not achieved, most of the time it will lead to the end of that relationship.



the other world i want to bring to attention is the receiving party. when you believe, you must belive in something. that something can be seen as the other world. this is what in english literature it would mean. but i wont be dealing with english, grammar or whatnots because i have no authority to speak about them. but what im trying to say is, one needs to belive in whatever he wants to acheive. for they say, confidence or believing in what you do, half the battle has already been won.



but besides that, back to the theme of this blog. Lovesick. i have been thinking while on my hiatus what it means to be loved.or rather, it should be, "what is love?"
Love is eternal, and the transitory nature of all things pertaining to this world is a sign of truth, a sign that shows us by means of contrast. Real spiritual love, love of God and love of mankind for the sake of God is the only truth, the only thing in this world that is permanently and constantly sweet. Physical separation from someone you love, in accordance with the rule that pertains to the physical, may create a longing that will cause love to increase, may augment the bliss of reunion. But on the spiritual level that love is constant, is never interrupted by distance nor by time. Your beloved may be on the moon and you may be in bliss at the thought of reunion, but if love is unrequited, that is not sweet separation but a bitter pill. The extinction of love is pitch darkness. You may regard the sunset as beautiful, but how would you feel if it were setting forever?



Love is the water of life. God created Adam from clay and water. If it were not for water the clay would hold no shape. Divine Love is what binds our souls together. That is why people become so miserable when they feel unloved. It is a feeling that something essential is missing from one's life, that life itself is incomplete, and in the face of this ache people set out in search of love with the desperation of a man dying of thirst.



The Lord created us and loves us; that is why everyone loves love. No one complains of love or wants it to be taken from him, but all want to be loved more. Where are you seeking love? Are you taking pure water from the gushing source, or muddy, slimy water from the ditch? You love people, but they will die. Perhaps your love will be unrequited, or because of a small error or indiscretion on your part that person's heart will harden to you and love will be no more. You say that you love him or her, but do you love him or her unconditionally? Is your love permanent-love for the real immaculate divine essence living in that person, or temporary, as a result of some desirable attributes: beauty, youth, wealth, station or wit? When that beautiful, young, wealthy, clever, amiable socialite becomes an ugly, old, penniless, senile, grumpy outcast will you still love her? Is your love is of the spirit or of the world?

Al mio amore,

i wish to relate an old love story to all.
extracted from Facebook:

THE STORY OF LAILA AND MAJNUN

The story of Laila and Majnun has been told in the East for thousands of years and has always exerted a great fascination, for it is not only a love-story, but a lesson in love. Not love as it is generally understood by man, but the love that rises above the earth and heavens.

A lad called Majnun from childhood had shown love in his nature, revealing to the eye of the seers the tragedy of his life. When Majnun was at school he became fond of Laila. In time the spark grew into a flame, and Majnun did not feel at rest if Laila was a little late in coming to school. With his book in his hand, he fixed his eyes on the entrance, which amused the scoffers and disturbed everybody there. The flame in time rose into a blaze and then Laila's heart became kindled by Majnun's love. Each looked at the other. She did not see anyone in the class but Majnun, nor did he see anyone save Laila. In reading from the book Majnun would read the name of Laila, in writing from dictation Laila would cover her slate with the name of Majnun. 'All else disappears when the thought of the beloved occupies the mind of the lover.'

Everyone in the school whispered to each other, pointing them out. The teachers were worried and wrote to the parents of both that the children were crazy and intensely fond of one another, and that there seemed no way to divert their attention from their love-affair which had stopped every possibility of their progress in study.

Laila's parents removed her at once, and kept a careful watch over her. In this way they took her away from Majnun, but who could take Majnun away from her heart? She had no thought but of Majnun. Majnun, without her, in his heart's unrest and grief, kept the whole school in a turmoil, until his parents were compelled to take him home, as there seemed to be nothing left for him in the school. Majnun's parents called physicians, soothsayers, healers, magicians, and poured money at their feet, asking them for some remedy to take away from the heart of Majnun the thought of Laila. But how could it be done? 'Even Luqman the great physician of the ancients, had no cure for the lovesick.'

No one has ever healed a patient of love. Friends came, relations came, well-wishers came, wise counselors came, and all tried their best to efface from his mind the thought of Laila, but all was in vain. Someone said to him, 'O Majnun, why do you sorrow at the separation from Laila? She is not beautiful. I can show you a thousand fairer and more charming maidens, and can let you choose your mate from among them.' Majnun answered, 'O, to see the beauty of Laila the eyes of Majnun are needed.'

When no remedy had been left untried, the parents of Majnun resolved to seek the refuge of the Kaba as their last resort. They took Majnun on the pilgrimage to Kabatullah. When they drew near to the Kaba a great crowd gathered to see them. The parents, each in turn, went and prayed to God, saying, 'O Lord, Thou art most merciful and compassionate, grant Thy favor to our only son, that the heart of Majnun may be released from the pain of the love of Laila.' Everybody there listened to this intently, and wonderingly awaited what Majnun had to say. Then Majnun was asked by his parents, 'Child, go and pray that the love of Laila may be taken away from your heart.' Majnun replied, 'Shall I meet my Laila if I pray?' They, with the greatest disappointment, said, 'Pray, child, whatever you like to pray.' He went there and said, 'I want my Laila,' and everyone present said, 'Amen.' 'The world echoes to the lover's call.'

When the parents had sought in every way to cure Majnun of his craze for Laila, in the end they thought the best way was to approach the parents of Laila, for this was the last hope of saving Majnun's life. They sent a message to Laila's parents, who were of another faith, saying, 'We have done all we can to take away from Majnun the thought of Laila, but so far we have not succeeded, nor is there any hope of success lift to us except one, that is your consent to their marriage.' They, in answer, said, 'Although it exposes us to the scorn of our people, still Laila seems never to forget the thought of Majnun for one single moment, and since we have taken her away from school she pines away every day. Therefore we should not mind giving Laila in marriage to Majnun, if only we were convinced that he is sane.'

On hearing this the parents of Majnun were much pleased and advised Majnun to behave sensibly, so that Laila's parents might have no cause to suspect him of being out of his mind. Majnun agreed to do everything his parents desired, if he could only meet his Laila. They went, according to the custom of the East, in procession to the house of the bride, where a special seat was made for the bridegroom, who was covered with garlands of flowers. But as they say in the East that the gods are against lovers, so destiny did not grant these perfect lovers the happiness of being together. The dog that used to accompany Laila to school happened to come into the room where they were sitting. As soon as Majnun's eyes fell on this dog his emotion broke out. He could not sit in the high seat and look at the dog. He ran to the dog and kissed its paws and put all the garlands of flowers on the neck of the dog. There was no sign of reverence or worship that Majnun did not show to this dog. 'The dust of the beloved's dwelling is the earth of Kaba to the lover.' This conduct plainly proved him insane. As love's language is gibberish to the loveless, so the action of Majnun was held by those present to be mere folly. They were all greatly disappointed, and Majnun was taken back home and Laila's parents refused their consent to the marriage.

This utter disappointment made Majnun's parents altogether hopeless, and they no longer kept watch over him, seeing that life and death to him were both the same, and this gave Majnun freedom to wander about the town in search of Laila, inquiring of everyone he met about Laila. By chance he met a letter-carrier who was carrying mail on the back of a camel, and when Majnun asked this man Laila's whereabouts, he said, 'Her parents have left this country and have gone to live a hundred miles from here.' Majnun begged him to give his message to Laila. He said, 'With pleasure.' But when Majnun began to tell the message the telling continued for a long, long time. 'The message of love has no end.'

The letter-carrier was partly amused and partly he sympathized with his earnestness. Although Majnun, walking with his camel, was company for him on his long journey, still, out of pity, he said, 'Now you have walked ten miles giving me your message, how long will it take me to deliver it to Laila? Now go your way, I will see to it.' Then Majnun turned back, but he had not gone a hundred yards before he returned to say, 'O kind friend, I have forgotten to tell you a few things that you might tell my Laila.' When he continued his message it carried him another ten miles on the way. The carrier said, 'For mercy's sake, go back. You have walked a long way. How shall I be able to remember all the message you have given me? Still, I will do my best. Now go back, you are far from home.' Majnun again went back a few yards and again remembered something to tell the message-bearer and went after him. In this way the whole journey was accomplished, and he himself arrived at the place to which he was sending the message.

The letter-carrier was astonished at this earnest love, and said to him, 'You have already arrived in the land where your Laila lives. Now stay in this ruined mosque. This is outside the town. If you go with me into the town they will torment you before you can reach Laila. The best thing is for you to rest here now, as you have walked so very far, and I will convey your message to Laila as soon as I can reach her.' 'Love's intoxication sees no time or space.'

Majnun listened to his advice and stayed there, and felt inclined to rest, but the idea that he was in the town where Laila dwelt made him wonder in which direction he should stretch out his legs. He thought of the north, south, east, and west, and thought to himself, 'If Laila were on this side it would be insolence on my part to stretch out my feet towards her. The best thing, then, would be to hang my feet by a rope from above, for surely she will not be there.' 'The lover's Kaba is the dwelling-place of the beloved.' He was thirsty, and could find no water except some rainwater that had collected in a disused tank.

When the letter-carrier entered the house of Laila's parents he saw Laila and said to her, 'I had to make a great effort to speak with you. Your lover Majnun, who is a lover without compare in all the world, gave me a message for you, and he continued to speak with me throughout the journey and has walked as far as this town with the camel.' She said, 'For heavens sake! Poor Majnun! I wonder what will become of him.' She asked her old nurse, 'What becomes of a person who has walked a hundred miles without a break?' The nurse said rashly, 'Such a person must die.' Laila said, 'Is there any remedy?' She said, 'He must drink some rainwater collected for a year past and from that water a snake must drink, and then his feet must be tied and he must be hung up in the air with his head down for a very long time. That might save his life.' Laila said, 'Oh, but how difficult it is to obtain!' God, who Himself is love, was the guide of Majnun, therefore everything came to Majnun as was best for him. 'Verily love is the healer of its own wounds.'

The next morning Laila put her food aside, and sent it secretly, by a maid whom she took into her confidence, with a message to tell Majnun that she longed to see him as much as he to see her, the difference being only of chains. As soon as she had and opportunity, she said, she would come at once.

The maid went to the ruined mosque, and saw two people sitting there, one who seemed self-absorbed, unaware of his surroundings, and the other a fat, robust man. She thought that Laila could not possibly love a person like this dreamy one whom she herself would not have cared to love. But in order to make sure, she asked which of them was named Majnun. The mind of Majnun was deeply sunk in his thought and far away from her words, but this man, who was out of work, was rather glad to see the dinner-basket in her hand, and said, 'For whom are you looking?' She said, 'I am asked to give this to Majnun. Are you Majnun?' He readily stretched out his hands to take the basket, and said, 'I am the one for whom you have brought it,' and spoke a word or two with her in jest, and she was delighted.

On the maid's return Laila asked, 'Did you give it to him?' She said, 'Yes, I did.' Laila then sent to Majnun every day the larger part of her meals, which was received every day by this man, who was very glad to have it while out of work. Laila one day asked her maid, 'You never tell me what he says and how he eats.' She said, 'He says that he sends very many thanks to you and he appreciates it very much, and he is a pleasant-spoken man. You must not worry for one moment. He is getting fatter every day.' Laila said, 'But my Majnun has never been fat, and has never had a tendency to become fat, and he is too deep in his thought to say pleasant things to anyone. He is too sad to speak.' Laila at once suspected that the dinner might have been handed to the wrong person. She said, 'Is anybody else there?' The maid said, 'Yes, there is another person sitting there also, but he seems to be beside himself. He never notices who comes or who goes, nor does he hear a word said by anybody there. He cannot possibly be the man that you love.' Laila said, 'I think he must be the man. Alas, if you have all this time given the food to the wrong person! Well, to make sure, today take on the plate a knife instead of food and say to that one whom you gave the food, 'For Laila a few drops of your blood are needed, to cure her of an illness.''

When the maid next went to the mosque the man as usual came most eagerly to take his meal, and seeing the knife was surprised. The maid told him that a few drops of his blood were needed to cure Laila. He said, 'No, certainly I am not Majnun. There is Majnun. Ask him for it.' The maid foolishly went to him and said to him aloud, 'Laila wants a few drops of your blood to cure her.' Majnun most readily took the knife in his hand and said, 'How fortunate am I that my blood may be of some use to my Laila. This is nothing, even if my life were to become a sacrifice for her cure, I would consider myself most fortunate to give it.' 'Whatever the lover did for the beloved, it could never be too much.' He gashed his arm in several places, but the starvation of months had left no blood, nothing but skin and bone. When a great many places had been cut hardly one drop of blood came out. He said, 'That is what is left. You may take that.' 'Love means pain, but the lover alone is above all pain.'

Majnun's coming to the town soon became known, and when Laila's parents knew of it they thought, 'Surly Laila will go out of her mind if she ever sees Majnun.' Therefore they resolved to leave the town for some time, thinking that Majnun would make his way home when he found that Laila was not there. Before leaving the place Laila sent a message to Majnun to say, 'We are leaving this town for a while, and I am most unhappy that I have not been able to meet you. The only chance of our meeting is that we should meet on the way, if you will go on before and wait for me in the Sahara.'

Majnun started most happily to go to the Sahara, with great hope of once more seeing his Laila. When the caravan arrived in the desert and halted there for a while, the mind of Laila's parents became a little relieved, and they saw Laila also a little happier for the change, as they thought, not knowing the true reason.

Laila went for a walk in the Sahara with her maid, and suddenly came upon Majnun, whose eyes had been fixed for long, long time on the way by which she was to come. She came and said, 'Majnun, I am here.' There remained no power in the tongue of Majnun to express his joy. He held her hands and pressed them to his breast, and said, 'Laila, you will not leave me any more?' She said, 'Majnun, I have been able to come for one moment. If I stay any longer my people will seek for me and your life will not be safe.' Majnun said, 'I do not care for life. You are my life, O stay, do not leave me any more.' Laila said, 'Majnun, be sensible and believe me. I will surely come back.' Majnun let go her hands and said, 'Surely I believe you.' So Laila left Majnun, with heavy heart, and Majnun, who had so long lived on his own flesh and blood, could no more stand erect, but fell backward against the trunk of a tree, which propped him up, and he remained there, living only on hope.

Years passed and this half-dead body of Majnun was exposed to all things, cold and heat and rain, frost and storm. The hands that were holding the branches became branches themselves, his body became a part of the tree. Laila was as unhappy as before on her travels, and the parents lost hope of her life. She was living only in one hope, that she might once fulfill her promise given to Majnun at the moment of parting, saying, 'I will come back.' She wondered if he were alive or dead, or had gone away or whether the animals in the Sahara had carried him off.

When they returned their caravan halted in the same place, and Laila's heart became full of joy and sorrow, of cheerfulness and gloom, of hope and fear. As she was looking for the place where she had left Majnun she met a woodcutter, who said to her, 'Oh, don't go that way. There is some ghost there.' Laila said, 'What is it like?' He said, 'It is a tree and at the same time man, and as I struck a branch of this tree with my hatchet I heard him say in a deep sigh, 'O Laila.' '

Hearing this moved Laila beyond description. She said she would go, and drawing near the tree she saw Majnun turned almost into the tree. Flesh and blood had already wasted, and the skin and bone that remained, by contact with the tree, had become like its branches. Laila called him aloud, 'Majnun!' He answered, 'Laila!' She said, 'I am here as I promised, O Majnun.' He answered, 'I am Laila.' She said, 'Majnun, come to your senses. I am Laila. Look at me.' Majnun said, 'Are you Laila? Then I am not,' and he was dead. Laila, seeing this perfection in love, could not live a single moment more. She at the same time cried the name of Majnun and fell down and died.

The beloved is all in all, the lover only veils him.
The beloved is all that lives, the lover a dead thing.

Jalaluddin Rumi, Mathnawi I, 30

Al mio amore

i guess i haven't been entirely honest with my readers and some friends. in person and in my blog post, i have always portrayed the sense of being the MR-know-all especially when it comes to love. love has been a the main issue for me, growing up and all. it has taught me many beautiful yet painful lessons. whatever it may seems, i guess its time to confess.


Dear readers, I'm not sure how to put it, but i guess the fact is; I'm not single. its kinda complicated for me to explain. its like those Malay song where the boyfriend sings about taking in their ex again because they really love their ex. i guess i still love her.even when i was with someone else. during the time when she was with her boyfriend and coincidentally i was chatting with her, i guess i was kind of sour to her. frankly, i was jealous. i know i haven't been treating her right, but i was a jerk, expecting her to be faithful and loyal. but then she did managed to slip out that she still has feelings for me. in actual fact, we have patched up again since like October '08.the problem with my ex is that though we are patching up, her presence was not felt. its was rarely that we were able to communicate via sms and some weekends on MSN. as all of you had known, i had always wanted more, wanted something concrete. I'm an insecure person. as long as there is some concrete relationship, I'm content.


at the same time, during those patching up period i would call it, i am also in love with someone else. we chatted, sms, fought and argued. but then, its her that i always go to at the end of the day. it because she's there. it's her that was always there. i know I'm bad. but then, she has made it a point, she can never be with me. she kept going back to her boyfriend when she broke up. till i felt at some point of time, I'm nothing to her. look it at my point of view, her family and I'm talking about your mak chu, mak long, pak ngah and all AKA her extended family, knows about her relationship with him. so if i were to come into the picture, what does that make me? someone who destroys relationship? that is egoistic. blame me all you want readers, i know I'm wrong. its entirely my fault.


so readers, its because of the lack of presence and concreteness that i am lovesick. its not like I'm out of love or something. i do have my ex who still loves me dearly. in fact, we met on Saturday before i headed to KL. we did some shopping, walking around and a lot of catching up. gosh, I'm touched when she said she wanna spent time with me before i go. sometimes, i wonder, what i did wrong to her the 1st time round. i guess i wanna dedicate my next post to how i met her.

Need some serious resting,
Lovesick Avenue