We swing higher together.

It's getting harder to deal with reality, with heart and passion. Matters are no longer simple, as much as I intended them to be.

I feel as if I am getting weaker. The days pass without song and wine, with everybody worrying about the H1N1 swine...

I get tired easily. I can still run and jump, perhaps better, but the lameness that comes from within cripples me.

Looking left and right, I am sorry to find friends who could not empathise with me and my condition. Not that they don't want to, though there are some cases...; instead they puzzle at my being.

I seek a channel to vent out these monsters, and sought none. I pray to the heavens, but patiently waiting still. I pushed the borders, wanting to go further and test my luck, only to crash miserably, with onlookers watching curiously and unkindly.

Thus I invented weird and bizarre ways, seeking understanding and begging for mercy impliedly, trying to express myself and maybe relax a little. I pleaded for divine intervention every night, wondering what's wrong and praying for the decapitation of the Serpent's head. My ways are abnormal; I perfectly understand that, yet I do not let hold of them. They are my mirrors of damage done, wishing for an eye to recognise.

For one to waste life thinking and pondering is meaningless. I despised myself for allowing such frivolity, such inanity, to occupy the heart and deprive the brain. All my faculties are at war with these scrounges, and neither is giving in. Until and unless the victor is declared, heart and soul shall be a battlefield at the cost of flesh and blood.