Promise

Round and round the little circle spins...
I try to follow the quick chase.
One lap, then two, then fifty.
Still nothing.
Just like a ferris wheel, forever moving. But never going anywhere.
Doomed to repeat the motions... up, down, up, down.
Forever grounded to one spot.
I never liked the ferris wheel. It promises me the sky.
But I always end up on the ground.
Circles are eternal. The bond that never breaks.
The promise of forever.
The ring that binds two souls. The cuffs that bind a prisoner.
Still I watch the circle spinning. Still waiting for it to deliver its promise.
Loading, it tells me. So I sit tight.
Finally it stops.
Site not found, it screams at me. So I sigh.
Story of my life. Seems like life is forever loading.
Destination: site not found.

Thanks For Making Me Feel Bad

Dear Sunshine Of Mine,

You are amazing. I could not ask for a sweeter, kinder, more generous, loving friend than you. In comparison I look like a grumpy, miserable old hag. Bleurgh.

But you are so amazing and I love you lots and lots. Here's to many, many more years of friendship... I know you'll continue to be the sweet, kind, generous, loving person that you are through the good times and the bad times. And I will continue to be the grumpy, miserable old hag in comparison. But I don't mind because I love you to bits.

This is dedicated to all my friends who have been by my side through the good times, and especially through the bad times. Cheers!

What Dreams May Come

My name is Celeste. I live in a beautiful house. I cannot tell you which room is my favourite one as each room is exquisitely decorated. It took years to complete the house. Each piece of furniture was carefully chosen, every flower arranged perfectly.
Yes, it is a very beautiful house. I am very lucky.
I like the garden. There is a stone fountain and a pond and lots and lots of interesting sculptures. I enjoy sitting by the pond and sketching the sculptures. I would have liked to have some fish to sketch too but the only thing the pond holds is clear water. It is still a pretty pond, though.
Yes, it is a very pretty garden.
When it is cold outside, I sometimes play in the attic. There are so many boxes in the attic and each box holds a treasure. Sometimes I find old volumes of poetry, sometimes I find old toys. Once I even found a really old photo album. The photographs in it were so faded I could not recognize a single face. It is still fun to look, though.
Yes, it is fun to play in the big attic.
At nights I sit by my window seat, looking for stars. I like to read here too. It is one of my favourite things to do. I love to read about faraway places and fairy tales. I daydream a lot here too. I think of all those faraway places my books have told me about and I wish that I may someday see those places with my own eyes.
Yes, I do so love to daydream.
It is night now. It is time for me to lay down and close my eyes. When morning comes, once again I will be out in the garden, staring out at the world with unblinking eyes. All the while wishing for things that can never be.
What else can I do, trapped in this dollhouse?

Stop And Go

I'll start giving again, once you stop taking from me.

I'll start sleeping again, once you stop keeping me up at night.

I'll start smiling again, once you stop making me miserable.

I'll start talking again, once you stop pretending to care.

I can stop giving, stop sleeping, stop smiling, stop talking.

But what is really slowly seeping the life out of me...

is that I can't seem to stop loving you.

Farewell, Monkey

I told the monkey on my back, "My, you're getting heavy."

He bared his teeth at me and threw a banana in my face.

I tried to push him away. He really was weighing me down. Plus, I don't appreciate having fruit crushed on my face.

His expression changed from angry to deeply saddened with the blink of an eye.

I attempted to console him. "I know, monkey. I've carried you for so long and you are a part of me, but we must part."

He refused to look at me.

"When we met, I was still standing upright. Now the burden of keeping you for so long has caused me to stoop and hunch over. If this goes on, I'll be forced to crawl on my knees. Please understand."

He looked at me, eyes full of accusation and contempt.

I sighed. "You forced me to do this."

Uncertainty danced across his face.

I lit a match and lit him on fire. He was going down, one way or another.

He clung on tightly as the flames consumed him, so the flames would consume me too.

I merely smiled. The heat was melting years of icy numbness sealing my heart. When his screams finally burned away, I jumped into the lake.

Farewell, monkey.

I fell freely towards the bottom, eyes shut. When I felt the tug of life, once again calling to me, I resurfaced.

Farewell, guilt.

Hello, future.

Wanted: Map Or Directions. Thank you.

Ah, my heart. I spent most of last night and a good portion of today trying to figure out the this feeling. I'm not even sure how to describe it. It is sort of like being disconnected from... from what exactly? This place? The people?

Am I upset? Or sad? Or confused? Guilty? Perhaps all of that and more? Even as I write, I bite my lip and try to sort through the jumble. Trying to put everything in its place, where it belongs.

I think that may be partly it.

Place... belong...

The words are triggering something...

Tugging at some faint threads of... of what?

Loneliness? Homesickness?

Everything feels slightly off. Feels like I stepped onto the escalator and it's moving forward, but my feet aren't quite on the ground. And I'm not even trying to get them onto solid ground.

Ah, my heart. Where are you leading me this time?

Undone

   You lie on the grass next to me as we look up at the stars. I laugh as I feel the grass tickling my bare arms and feet. You sigh, a smile of deep contentment on your lips as you close your eyes.
   It is quite a cold night, but we keep each other warm. We always keep each other warm.
   I ask you where your thoughts are. You look at me and tell me you are thinking of the future. I make a face. You are always thinking of the future.
   You ask me what I am thinking of. I look at the full moon and tell you I am dreaming of what will come. You frown. You tell me that I always dream too much.
I just laugh and we both close our eyes and let our thoughts drift in the cool breeze.
   I was heartbroken when you had to move away. You held my hand and reminded me that you were only a thought away.
   Years later and here we are.
   You sit on the grass next to me as we look up at the night sky. It is very cold and the stars have decided to go some place else, somewhere warm. I shiver as I feel icy fingers touching my bare arms and feet. You sigh, then bite your lips in annoyance.
   You tell me I should have dressed warmer. Or that I should at least bring a shawl. You are dressed sensibly and the cold wind does not bother you.
   I nod and ask what is on your mind. You look at me and tell me you are thinking of the future. I smile for some things even time cannot touch. You are still thinking of the future.
   You ask me what my thoughts are. I gaze up at the dim crescent moon. I tell you that I still dream. You frown and almost look angry. You tell me that I should stop dreaming.
   I can only smile. You tell me you have to leave because you have a future to work for. I shiver again, but it has nothing to do with the cold. You stand up and walk away. I close my eyes and let my memories of you be carried off by the wind.
   Yes, I was heartbroken when you moved away.

Stranger

I'm sorry I didn't fight harder for you. I loved you. I still love you, more so now than ever before. I know more often than not it seems like I have forgotten about you or forsaken you for others, but trust me, you are always on my mind.
You were, and always will be, my first love. My one true love. You were always with me, right from the beginning. You stayed with me, all through the sleepless nights and all through the storms. Truth be told, sometimes I think you saved me.
And even though I turned my back on you, you stayed loyal. You stayed strong so I would stay strong. But lately I feel you slipping away from me. Maybe you finally realised that I'm not worthy of you.
After all, how long are you supposed to stand this abuse? I seek you out and then I reject you. I cry for you and then I leave you behind. I ask you for help and then I condemn you.
I'm surprised you even stayed this long.
I don't know if I should fight for you or let you go. Maybe if I let you go, you'll find someone who will treat you better. But if I let you go, will that mean letting my love go? Am I selfish? Am I a coward? No doubt about that. I am selfish and I am a coward.
I hide behind shadows and blame others. Excuse after excuse. It was never my fault. The blame always fell on the people around me.
I even blamed you sometimes. I mistreated you, misused you, twisted you this way and that way, and all the while claiming that I loved you.
You first came to me when I was hurting and offered me hope and companionship. I still need you. I'm still hurting. I'm still scared. I am so sorry for the way that I have behaved. I am so sorry for the way that I treated you. Please forgive me.
I am a coward.
All those times you wanted me to speak up for myself and I forced you away, choking on the bitter taste of swallowed words. All those times you told me to let you free so I could let myself be free, and I chained you up inside. All those times you urged me that my thoughts had value so I could recognise that you had value, and I erased you like you were worthless. I buried you along with my voice and I buried myself, and now I am constantly suffocating.
Somewhere along the line, I lost myself. Buried under a mountain of excuses, of hopelessness, of worthlessness.
Will you help dig me out? I'm alone in the dark like I was the first time you came to me. Help me find the light again?
Help me find me again.
So I can finally find you again.
My lost love. My lost words.

The Modernisation Of Wendy + Peter P. - Part 9

When night spreads her dark cloak upon the horizon, I sit by my window, holding my breath. I hope he comes. After last night, he might have given up on me. The ticking of the clock is maddening. As the hands spin the hours, I feel my hope fading.
I close my eyes and send out a wish, so that he might hear me. I open my eyes and there he is. That wonderful smile of his restores my spirits.
He enters after I open the window for him.
"I'm sorry."
"Wendy, you did nothing wrong."
"I've been thinking of you all day long."
He takes my hand in his.
"Come."
Still holding my hand, he leads me outside. I smile, happy to follow him.
This time he takes me to an island. It seems to be deserted as I see no signs of life. We sit on the sand. His hand has not left mine since the moment he held it.
We watch the waves roll up. I draw little circles in the sand with my bare toe. He looks down and grins ruefully.
"Perhaps I should warn you to bring your shoes next time."
"I think that would be good. At least we're not standing on rocks."
"Sorry again. I should have thought of it. But I was excited to see you."
"Me too."
We sit there, talking, until dawn. When the first splashes of pink appear on the dark blue sky, he turns to me.
"I should take you home."
I nod reluctantly.
We stand, say our goodbyes, and he sends me home.

The Modernisation Of Wendy + Peter P. - Part 8

My mother and I are out running errands all day long. By the time I reach my home, I am so tired I can barely walk up the stairs. I clean up and collapse onto my bed. The second my head hits my pillow, my eyes close and I fall blissfully into a deep slumber.
I dream of him again that night.
He is trying to convince me he is real, and I just smile and nod. But I know the truth. I simply play along. It is only a dream after all. There is no harm playing along and falling into the fantasy in a dream.
As soon as daybreak arrives, I awaken. Instead of feeling refreshed as I should after such a restful sleep, I feel disoriented and confused. And disturbed.
Something is niggling at me from the deep corner of my mind. I try to shake it off as I get up and start to clear my bed.
I lift up my pillow. There is nothing there.
The sun reaches my bed and decides to rest there.
It all comes rushing back at me.
Peter, holding my hand and pleading with me. Me, nodding along with every word.
Peter, telling me that he is here for me, trying to convince me that I have been calling for him.
Me, finally tiring of these illusions and shutting him out.
Peter, holding the star in his hands as he leaves my room, disappointed.
Peter, leaving a trail of silver dust from my bed to the window.
Peter, the one I have been calling for in my dreams.