she's ignoring me again.

i believe i've never explicitly put it down in my blog before. but she's doing it again and i'm getting really, really irritated and feeling more helpless by the day. according to her whims, she fades in and out of my life, yet always a constant. difference being now she's a constant stranger. the house holds together so much broken bonds, contained within, standing as a shield against the outside world. the house isn't a home, it's just a resting place where warmth visits in whisps, brief. somehow it seems a sad reality no one wants to face, we live in escapism, in our own little domes which we shake up every now and then to distract ourselves with dumb little snowflakes, fleeting distractions that are frivolous. portraits are but pictures that speak a thousand lies, those smiles were perhaps, genuine, but they don't last. life is like the drama serial on local television, where when all is fine and dandy, you hold your breath and prepare for the brutal blow that is likely to come, and it does. my predictions have always hit target, which made me think that perhaps those tv serials aren't that drama-mama after all. we're always trying to tack up the messy parts, tuck in the tardiness so the world outside doesn't see. how naive, to believe the appearance that greets us every where we turn, in everyone we meet. we're all, in a way, fabricators of fact, we stuff our brassieres to look bustier, we wear heels to look taller, we dye our hair to look cool, drive a big car to seem classy and all that. we maintain the trend this way, the ideals of the society's currents. whatever happened to acknowledgement of truth, reality? we conceal, we hide, we liquid-paper our shortcomings, knowing all well that when all that is scratched away these will surface.

i'm not saying it's totally wrong, a crime, something to be debated in parliament when those ministers are too free. what i'm saying is, i'm sure we do identify with all that, at least to some extent. and sadly, sometimes it's easier to live life this way. and we accept that. i know i do. i'm sitting alone now in my living room, typing this among my hurricane of books and notes. in front of me on the tv table are photo frames of our family, all smiling. and i wonder how long i can take this, this silent punishment, at the same time trying to ignore thoughts of confusion. life goes on, as usual. i can't afford to do anything, i've no time for that. it's just an excuse, you say. maybe. but will you let me pretend for a moment that things are okay, that things will get better the next time i open my eyes to a brand new day. i believe in miracles.