I always want to blog because I think there's always someone out there who could listen to me.

Someone I couldnt see, couldnt hear, maybe I wouldnt have met in my entire life. I believed there is someone like that.

Like a wave of current, something you started out on a good note, would end with a bad. Or vice-versa.

I started this blog, in a bid, for ppl to understand me better. not the one who always gives u a funny face when you saw him, maybe on a couple of occasions, he's always feigning a smile, stifling a chuckle, or simply a frown. the one whom you see, after he made a joke, he would settle in one corner, grey eyes looking downcast, the one whom you see, after remarking with an anecote, would give you that half-serious look but a firm stare in his eyes.

3 years ago, there used to be a gal, a gal whom represent everything he had, his car license, his bid to read everything a newspaper had to offer, a strong desire to excel in his job, a venture into marriage partime jobs, understanding car loans, trying to know more about HDB flat application, rites and rituals of a wedding.

all because she said " you dont understand me, you dont understand woman."

This sentence, etched into his memory for as long as he last. From a puny-looking NSF, with nothing in his pockets, no financial security, no motivation to go anywhere, nothing a gal would ever look into. To someone, who could, gave everything he could offer, to anyone, to himself.

From someone who lacks intellect to strike conversation, he turns to newspaper, current affairs, looks up ahead of trend and going-ons. From someone who tot he would end up to be a factory supervisor, or enginner, looking at machine running, studying data, he chose to do sales. To wake his inner being, of being extrovert.

All these.. took pains, time, sacrifice, all because he clenched his teeth, looked forward to a better life.

yet life deluded him. Life gave him, security yes. money was quite a bit for him to survive. everything he could buy, he would buy. but in cold hard cash. Something missing. something warmth. something he could only see in the eyes of other people. bliss. fulfilment.

he took to the streets. attended many pubs and functions. the biggest dance floor ever in boat quay, he took to bid their membership. Loneliness got to him? lack of people warmth? Only he himself could answer.

another journey of self-discovery, he aged with time. he had a moustache he nvr bother shaving. he had goatee he nvr tot of trimming. he had a paunch now, because he nvr took any initiative to lose it.

sometimes he asked himself, if all these were worth it. to have everything a man wanted to be, in a bid to exchange for something else. what he could see, he could never get. Fate cruel joke on him.

understanding women can be a tricky affair. because 1) you could nvr truly understand woman with that penis btw ur legs. 2) you could nvr win a woman by arguing ur way through 3) you could never think by writing a 3 page column of the pre-menstrual cycle, you would understand agony. 4) nvr think reading a brochure you could understand her pain in abortion. 5) flowers and jewellery isnt always her wishlist. I could go on and on. and that moment when i realized all these.

"You dont understand me, you dont understand women" was a statement, i could nvr redeem myself from. A statement I could never fought victorious. that sentence itself, had no redemption, it was a death penalty.

Like some sick game gone wrong, like an audience outside a goggle box, you can have no part in the process, but slowly watch it unfold. you could run away of course, which he did. only to find himself, staring in the same goggle box he got himself years ago.

he tot he was cursed. a curse that destroyed most of him in the process. he changed. not drastic, but he changes. slowly. he knew it. he didnt allow himself to be like in the past. whatever happened last time, he heaved a sigh. that's all he could do. and that's all he would do. nothing more.

He carried the spell with him. everywhere he goes. at work he could be dead serious, spending 3 days in a week working overtime when he didnt need to. he didnt want to think about lots of things. he didnt want to think about stuffs he tried forgetting.

He forgot how he looks like. He forgot reading the archives of his blog that started all these. he forgot after so many years, the world still goes on. with or without him. slowly... but gradually, the spell wears off. but the pain, nvr did.

the pain of betrayal. whenever he read articles about betrayal, he would get so angry, he clenched the papers so tightly, he frowned so abruptly, it probably would cast a shadow on the ground, right where he is. he nvr forget betrayal. He's the carrier. he's the vermin.

romance, to him. might be an illusion. a passing glance. a withering flower. he avoid romance shows, he hates mushy smses, he even hates the very word. OF LOVE.

sometimes when the feelings gets to him, he took his uncle car, drive a long way out to the farms, looks at cows, looks at goats, try a bit of prawn fishing, anything, that seems like an antidote, he would try. it works sometimes, or most of the time, he would curled up in his bedsheets, disallowing the sun to shine in his face. Wallowing in the darkness of his own bedsheet.

"The WAR had to end". the war which never had an enemy but himself. the war which never had a beginning nor an end, the war which took no life, but his own. Ended.

End his blog. End his journey and adventure into people trying to know him better when there is chance. but people is complacent. they never were there to know him better. just as he really want to believe there is santa claus.

but he does express his gratitude in his readers. people who came across him and says how he could wrote such sad poems. how he tried to re-integrate with his friends after pawning them away for love. how he made new friends through blogs. how he knew rockson will rock the blogsphere, how he seen xiaxue in the blogger convention. how he simply enjoyed Kennysia from Kuching, or a peek into Sandralicious life in Wala Wala whenever he pass by Holland V etc etc.

This last entry, would probably mean nothing but a 10mins read from his readers. but he does appeal to everyone who read it. because.. he probably doesnt have anymore 10mins writing eternal east.

Re-think for a moment for what he had done. maybe to you, or your friends. it could be little, it could be much but it was forgotten. he probably doesnt need a single cent from you. all he wants, is acceptance. and understanding, that one day, you could open your eyes, not to think he wanted to be what you want him to see outside, but a quiet look, in his life, inside.

A last poem to end it all. Thank you for making eternal east happen, all these 3 years, if ever there was a redemption, N, i thank you... For making me.. a better man.
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My Escape
by somewiseguy

Poetry is my escape
From my little world of pain
My world of complication
That's driving me insane

I'm slowly losing my mind
I feel it every day
Yet, when I write my heart out
The confusion seems to fade

I fell in love
And I live with it inside
She can never know the truth
So, I force my love to hide

I tried to be her lover
'Cause she cares for me, too
Yet, she's become another person
I only love the gal I knew

The love that dwells within me
Is eating me away
I just can't hold it all inside
I give love to everyone, everyday

Yet, it never does feel right
I'm only lying to myself
When I give the love that's meant for her
Away to someone else

And so this endless cycle
It seems shall never cease
I either pour my love out to the world
Or let my love slowly kill me

For some their escape is drugs
I have a friend for whom that's true
He's in love just like me
He understands what I'm going through

He fell in love
But she doesn't feel the same
She doesn't care he's hurting
And that she's causing him such pain

One day he could take it no longer
He held seventeen pills to take
He swallowed them, and went to sleep
Hoping never to wake

He awoke the next day
And realized he was still alive
He regrets the attempt, he wasn't thinking straight
Yet, he doesn't realize God had saved his life