when words fail

how does one describe one's reality crumpling apart

that everywhere you look, the facade of things as you know it

is almost but a mirage



how does one describe feeling indefinitely alone

knowing that you are just but a touch, a call, a text apart

but unable to connect with anyone, to speak your heart



how does one's knowledge of oneself gets put into question

that somehow you are sure of who you are

but now can never ever be sure of what you really are



nothing is ever sure now

nothing will ever be sure again

is what I want to be absolutely sure of something ?

what if I am absolutely sure that I will never be happy?

does certainty absolve hope and believe



but the reason I hold on

it's cause I need this hole gone

as long as I dont face the light

no one will ever know that Im hurting

Danny Boy, and the Big Three Zero

When does a person becomes more than an acquaintance and more like a friend.


And yet how do you define a friend
What if you feel a sense of connection
But at the same time, you barely know him at all


who is someone whom you see at work almost every day
had a drink or two together, more than once or twice
shared a joke, a common enemy, and many late hours


Fate is a fickle mistress
No man nor beast can tame her


people would say, you were gone before your time
people would say, life has been terribly unfair to you


No matter what
I was glad to have known you


And I will ensure your memory lives on
Just by writing you down into this history of me


Danny Boy


On my birthday today
While I celebrate everything that has given me life thus far
I give a toast to you too


In this cusp of my big three O
One cannot help but be more aware of mortality
And again, cant help but be more dazzled by its wonder and glow


I fear death a lot more than when I was 13
But now, I enjoy life a lot more too
and love even more fiercely than before


Here is to life , to friends..
And to love



~ I started writing this out of grieve. But never finished it.
I think now is as good a time as any to finish my letter to Danny and to myself.

Life and death does seem to interview, to force us to reflect and to rejoice.






Sincerely
Yours