Friday, August 9, 2013

On Losing Ibrahim. And Others.

I didn't realize how much I treasured someone's mind until it was too late. I keep thinking that maybe, perhaps, I had shown my ugly colors too fast and got him scared. Or maybe he was just as brilliant and smart as I thought he was and realized that prolonging contact with me would sully him, taint him even. I really can't say that I'm a good influence. I have a jar full of wicked things inside my chest. Most people do but I'm better at hiding them. Most people have petty affairs, tangible worldly concerns. Mine... Mine is of something deeper, something that cannot be washed. Something rooted at my very essence and perhaps would stay with me throughout the tides of time.

For the sake of this entry, I would name him Ibrahim. Naming him as such reflects upon the sentiment I carry for him for he is so dear. So very few has been on par with me. Ibrahim is one of my favorite names and I think he deserves whatever pleasantry I could grant.

There are only a number of people whose opinions I regard, whose voices matter to me. Ibrahim is one of them. I have placed him on a pedestal since I was in high school. He would always be untouchable. He would never be a friend. He would be my brilliant acquaintance, a sort of beacon for my drowning mind..Have you met such person in your life? See someone with a great mind, be scared of him and know instantly, deep down in your bones that he was someone you could look up to and be scared at the same time?

I have re-established contact with him lately and he was very insightful. I could see the smudges on my skin and see where things got wrong with me whenever we exchanged mails. I loved his views, his opinions. Like all that is good, though, he stopped his correspondence of course.

And as usual, I got too scared. It scared the shit out of me that I couldn't even find the courage to ask him where things have gotten wrong. Did I repulse him? Did I scare him? Did he think my penchant and love for homosexual relationships sinful? Did he think I was a lascivious person because I admittedly watch adult animes when the truth is that I actually am asexual? Did he disapprove of my views? Did he think I'm a liar when the truth is that I never lie when I write But that I am often blind sided and cannot see myself for what I truly am?

I didn't realize how much I am gratified with the amount of Kudos I receive over my posts, how much they uplifted me until Ibrahim pointed them out. I wanted to send a private message and gleefully tell him how he's been right and I didn't see it...but he already stopped his correspondence.

And I am too scared to ask him exactly why he decided to cut off ties.

And now that I think about it, I was always scared of him because not only was he a beacon, he was also someone I recognized even from long ago, could exchange blades with me and crush me mercilessly. That is why I have placed him on a pedestal. So very few scared me. I have met less than a handful of people who could ride the current of my hay wired mind and not get burned or get swept aside.

He was grounded.

I wonder if I would regret not having sent him a message how much I appreciated his correspondence and respected his view of the world; if I would regret not having asked him his reason for cutting off our internet ties? I'm too scared to hear his response and even more scared that he would not respond.

I feel so different from everyone.

Ibrahim is not a friend. Not even someone I considered having an amorous relationship with. But he has become dear. A dear acquaintance.

A beacon. A blinding one. One that covered a wide radius and served as light.

I wonder if he understood my feelings. If he would understand.

I also think that this is very selfish of me, placing someone on a pedestal without their permission.

But I guess he deemed my mind dirty and sinful. I failed at that, I guess, for I thought he would be indifferent with colors. I treasured his witty blows and cutting sharpness. I did not dare cloak the demon inside my mind. That was careless of me. And perhaps a smart move on his part.

Well then, it is done.

Goodbye, Ibrahim.

For I am a selfish person, and a coward one at that. I would never have the courage to establish contact once again for even when I am the abomination I am, I am not ashamed and would not apologize for the monster my mind may have become.


I think, maybe, that there is something wrong in my head. I generally prefer that people don't talk to me when they have nothing note worthy to say, when I am outside my work or outside my social gathering. People should avoid me. There is a time for them. I like to be left alone in my own devices when I am not conditioned for a social-relationship-catering mood. But this...the Quiet this time is irritating. I find myself restless. It is most unpleasant. My brother and sister are preoccupied with their worldly affairs and I want to hear from them. This is intolerable. While I, myself, don't talk to them when I'm in one of my moods and while I do understand them, this time, the Quiet is just grating my nerves. Unforgivable. So I expressed how I strongly miss them and I think perhaps, people would not be able to understand the message I conveyed so dearly...

  "Talk to me, peaches!!!!!! The world is not right when I don't hear from you! I feel like crawling out of this human skin, summoning Crowley and  
    unleashing Armageddon upon the world as the angels drop from the sky like cascading bullets. I would tear every living organic that kept your attentions
    away limb per limb and I'll gift wrap them with a bloody ribbon back to you. My laughter will be the thunder in the darkening sky and my wrath palpable
    as a maddening quake. So I say once again, talk to me,"

As I was saying, then,

            I miss them bastards.


Buck Tick... Never thought I'd say it. There was a time I used to look at my sister (renovati) and be puzzled over her fussing and worshiping. It was in the past. Buck Tick, thanks for salvaging the day. My soul feels like soaring the thunderous sky. You are a lover whose embrace remains solid and warm. Your voice generates the mass effect and I'm your turret that keeps the enemies at bay. I feel like taking up arms once again.

No comments:

Post a Comment