This Chasm Is Not Home

Slowly but surely I can feel myself regaining control. This chasm which has become my life and home is beginning to shrink and warp. For two days in a row I've had a change of heart. Something deep inside me has changed. I'm getting excited about life again. I'm getting out again. I'm taking care of myself bit by bit. It's like some internal switch just flicked and the light from above grew stronger and stronger, echoing down this deep chasm which I'd chipped away for myself. It's as if I've stopped half way down and looked up and gone, screw it. And funnily, it began with a joke.

I was looking into the mirror two nights ago and thought to myself, what have I achieved from this relationship. Then I started laughing - "A DVD". I just couldn't stop laughing. Even in bed, I was giggling away about the thought that the only thing I'd received from the relationship was a DVD - probably not true, but it was the only tangible evidence I was ever in a relationship at all. Some sort of sick consolation prize that just highlights the pathetic nature off the whole situation. And it's true.

My mum is a Supernatural fan. And I love that show as well - two brothers just trying to survive and kill evil creatures on a quest to avenge their mother - but unfortunately only the first season was shown here where I live. But over where Vikki lived, season three was already well under way. So she sent it over but didn't want me to pay her no matter what I said. And now, it's become some sort of beacon in my life - a stupid television show on DVD has shown me the way.

Of course, the light didn't last long. The next day I was feeling in the dumps, but that night, the feeling of being able to live again came over me. And today it was the same feeling throughout the day. So although it's only baby steps, it's a beginning and a feeling I've been craving for many weeks. I don't care if Vikki is at the bottom of the chasm, if she wants me back or not - all I know is that I'm lovable and someone else out there wants me and that I need to move on. I don't know what's going to happen to me, and I'll admit I'm fucking scared, but I know that I can't keep falling any more.

I just hope that there is someone else out there that I can love as much as Vikki. Someone who accepts my faults and that loves me for me. Someone that I can protect when she's vulnerable and someone I can make feel special. I really hope that I find someone else. For all I care now, Vikki can stay gone if she wants. I've given up caring and letting my life rest in her uncaring hands. Wish me the best. I'll need it in this strange and frightening new life I'll be trying my hardest to create in the crater left by this love of mine.

In other news, Jaffa is gone from my school, so at least that's one less fat Indian fuck to deal with.

Artist's Block

The term back at school has been tedious. I'm not going to lie to you, I've felt like giving up at least a dozen times each day. Some days I feel that my only purpose there is the break-time game of cricket. The whole ordeal with Jaffa had been depressing and I'd formed a serious case of artist's block. I'd decided to paint a portrait of a man, but for nearly a week I struggled and struggled to get the face right. Even then it felt wrong. Day after day I worked away. And by Friday I'd had enough.

I blanked the whole canvass. White primer straight over the portrait. And to tell you the truth, I've never felt better. Before the coat had even dried I was splashing colour up there and making a mess, completely different from before - I'm colour blind and have let it get the better of me. I use black and white and small brushes, and that's it. But not today. And from the corner of my eye I saw my muse.

Jaffa, the fat bastard, was in my class that day, avoiding me. All my anger, all the hate, forever boiling inside me - I let it explode on the canvass. I'd turned my emotion into a work of art at fatty's expense, and it felt good. Ever since that day I've been reenergized for the day. What's better than art where you can learn and humiliate your rivals at the same time? Well, utterly destroying them is one...

Jaffa always complained to me about the way people thought he was gay. Forever was he saying "Let's not talk here or they'll think we are lovers" or "Do you think she thinks I'm a homo?". I too all my life have had this problem. A well groomed, polite and smart man must be gay riight? Well, so thought almost every tormentor I've had over my limited years. I know I'm not, and am comfortable because I know who I am. And this knowing gives me the strength to joke about my sexuality. If people call me gay I say I probably am, followed by some witty insult. And it was for this portrait that I'd use my security, and Jaffa's insecurity, for evil not good.

Underneath Jaffa's mug, I'm writing "We Were Lovers!" or something of the sort, in a nice pink tone. This will of course be displayed in both the foyer cabinet and the end of year exhibition, where I'm musing with selling it for free, just so I can show everyone how worthless he is. As I said, I don't get mad, I get even.

A Friend Falls, A Lover Rises

Well, this has been a bumpy few weeks for me. Love and revenge have been making their rounds and I certainly have been buying in bulk. As soon as the first mask fell from my face of lies, my life has altered dramatically. People are beginning to know the real me. Slowly but surely, like a faded fort resting into the sea, my truth is crumbling into my real world. And although love has been the catalyst, the sense of joy which has entered my life is what keeps pushing me to reveal more about myself. Unfortunately, not all could handle the new me. 

Jaffa, surprisingly, was the first to go. Although the honesty was good for me, he offered nothing else. For an overweight foreign man, he talked a lot about his conquests and girls he had crushes on. For a man with only one friend too, he sure didn't talk a lot about me though. The other day I expressed how I felt, how he never inquired about me and only used me for advice, and the dog which I had fed bit my hand at its most vulnerable moment. All the effort I'd put into listening to his problems and soothing his ego had backfired when suddenly he was confronted with the fact that I might actually not want to talk about him for once. The results have been somewhat amusing.

In his usual passive-aggressive-I want-to-kill-you way, Jaffa stayed for the last meal he'd ever be having at my house and left. From then on, his words have been "I don't want to see you for two lifetimes" and "Fuck you". Fortunately for him, I don't get mad. Unfortunately for him, I just get even. Which is why I am painting my latest portrait of his ugly mug so I can ridicule him before displaying it in the school foyer. 

But where one falls, another takes his place. And Vikki is just what my life needed. We have much in common and for the last few weeks, I've been living of her love and our times together. From the moment I wake up, I'm thinking about her, until the moment I fall asleep. And even then I've been dreaming about her. When I think about how much she loves me, I know that all is good in the world and that I myself am a good person. I hope that you know love, reader, because it is a wonderful thing. It has turned a sad, lonely recluse into a person much more beautiful. And I hope the wave I'm riding never ends, because if it does, I know I'll fall hard without anyone who can catch me.

A Friend Knocks

I don't have many friends. I have never needed any and the few I had turned out to be tools any way. I can't complain; I never sought popularity, but always wore just enough masks to be socially acceptable. I'd sit and observe below the radar, keeping out of the spot light so I could work behind the scenes, always dumbing myself down socially and intellectually so I wouldn't be a threat. I really did feel like I was a spy on an alien world sometimes, conforming to others.

Sure I was liked by those who got to know me, but I was also bullied like hell throughout my early life. This year it all changed though. I had enrolled into tertiary education for the first time. A new setting, new people - I wasn't going to pass it up. So I decided on a new me. Everything I did was probably the exact opposite; outgoing, talkative and witty. The problem is it worked.

I know it sounds strange, but I was suddenly popular, outgoing and well liked. The times someone did pick a fight with me it either bounced off or sorted itself out. I liked this new me. But for reason, I wasn't quite the same when at home. Sure I was happier, but remnants of old me kept popping through for a cup of tea. Each different side of me was conflicting but at the same time couldn't live without one another.

Am I this new happy guy or the old reclusive. Which is the mask and which is reality? Am I going mad? Sure there has been a history of mental disorders in my extended family, but I don't honestly believe that. Every day one side is either stronger or weaker and I'm finding it hard to divide the two. What I need is someone I can be open with who isn't a blog page. As fortune would have it, that someone happened to be knocking on my door at 9am this morning.

Sure 9am isn't early for most, but if you've gone to sleep at 4am that same morning you don't have to be a math teacher to work out the sum equals cranky. I barely had time to notice my pounding headache before I was embroiled in a conversation with, shall we say, "Jaffa"; he's Indian, larger than life in more ways than one, optimistic, vain, about 20 years my senior, utterly honest and incredibly loyal. Say no more. He's been following me around like a bad smell ever since we met at school, turning up at all hours to show me his artwork and telling about his dreams and life. On any given day, he'd annoy the shit out of me, but for some reason he's the only one outside my family I can be truly honest with. You couldn't get two more opposite people, but we get along like a bulimic and a toilet bowl. 

Maybe it's what I need, maybe it's not; I'm willing to ride it along to see what comes out. I could use a bit of honestly right now in my life and I definitely think that Jaffa can give it to me. Hopefully someone else can see what's really there behind my masks even if I can't.