Preface
I guess you can say I’ve always really wanted to write. But there was no story most of the time. Until now. The cost of the lack of imagination, is a life lived- i think.
Chapter 1: A list you want to avoid
1. i think i am going to suffer from heartache soon.
2. im not trivializing it, im just trying to talk through my anxiety.
3. perhaps thats the only legitimate part of me that can still call itself an undeniable writer- i’ll write about anything as long as it makes me feel good about myself- in this case, some of the private and insecure feelings that hang everywhere in my line of vision.
notes:
‘heartache’ – defined by a gripping, wrenching sensation- a nightly visitation that will last at least for days-no-end, a condition caused by tremendous disappointment leading to further depths of disappointment, almost reaching stages of complete abandonment of pride, and a state of pure unadulterated desire clings on, after being completely un-reciprocated. The hurt soaks you inside out. Before it strikes, this patient is truly delusional- Hiroshima shall bomb and she is still here, watering the blooms she sees but actually- quite shriveled and dead. Did I mention disappointment already? Again and again and again it reverberates in this season of heartbreak.
Post-edit:
dark comedy is the tone of this story. she meets someone so right, he may be wrong. she dreamt all about independence in a love story, but sold her soul the moment he leaves her side. she’s in shambles, guilty and helpless. For a relationship with an outsider- until 24 years matured in her life- she’ll give up her family, her loyalties, her gratitude for living a life akin to the singapore dream. the thought of the hysterics she’ll entertain. the feathers she’ll ruffle, mainly her own. idealistic to a fault, she also believes tragic love stories will always apply to her.
Posted on September 8, 2010
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