Why do I often attempt such flamboyance in writing? And in saying this, I do not declare my wielding of the language as more superior over others; I merely note that if it is in wordplay that I place such an extent of importance, then I clearly must be a strange boy. And perhaps such a statement might make me luddite-ish, but if the greatest poems and literature came from a past age, is it such a crime that we seek to dabble in such indulgences?
Yes, I do use my "la"s and my "ma"s in perfect grammatical Singlish. But in letters, it is never enough just to keep it short and simple. The reason for this is simple. In letters, there is so much space to write, and there is need for so much more effort. Can we really settle for just a simple "Hi, how are you doing?" No, but letters have to be emotionally-driven. It has to be inspired, or no one would ever have written one.
Perhaps then the intricacy of the language is merely a hopeful way to appropriately package feelings that are similarly complex:
For it is not enough that I miss you. I have to want you like the trees; eternally reaching for the sunlight. I have to ache for you like an empty sea; lifeless until touched by a ripple.
And it is not enough that I long to see you. I have to yearn with the thirst of a tired traveller. I have to desire with the intensity of a burning fire.
For emotions so pure only befit words so treasured by even the likes of Shakespeare. In spite of such declaration, we may never become able to imitate the past greats. But perhaps, in pursuit of it, we can maybe steal a little of their magic for our own...
And it seems Whenever you are down, That no friend Can ever be found.
Sadness and loneliness; Hand-in-hand they visit. Mocking you: For you are alone.
And none will comfort you For none will notice. You would be too scared to cry; Frightened of rejection.
It has happened before. Friends reply with condemnation in place of comfort. "Stop thinking so much," they'd say. And you do not dare to step out again.
So you keep the trumps to yourself And force a smile on your face. You ignore the pain, Hoping it'd all go away.
It never does; It merely hides. But I do not care; I must not.
I concede that I have said Terribly stupid things. I accept that I have been Weird towards you.
But to treat you normally Is something I might Never be able to do.
For you are not just another friend To me. How do I view us to be on equal footing When, to me, you belong far higher Than I can ever dream of belonging to?
How do I treat you normally When you mean so much more?
I don't do this very often, quote songs on my blog. But with so many songs in the market, someone is bound to sing what you really want to say. So here goes:
"... And I will give up this fight. Cause I can't make you love me if you don't. You can't make your heart feel something it won't..."
- Bonnie Raitt, I Can't Make You Love Me
And so, grant me just this. Know that this feeling I had for you: it was true.
"Take your watch off the table... You need to be more normal. Why did you not greet me? Thank goodness you are PES E -- you'd never survive real army... You are always like that --slow. You are weird what. Give up; move on."
What ON EARTH do I need to do to get some approval -- to feel appreciated? I am human! I need to feel.
Ah, forget it. I've lost my childhood; I've lost my innocence; I've lost my friends; I've lost the one girl I ever loved. Nothing new to me anyway.
