Fire

Finally got round "boiler week": 2 CAs and a paper, all spaced out approximately 1 day apart among 5, sloshed around in a disabling bout of flu. No fun. No fun at all struggling with these demons inside. Phantoms from a not-so-distant past, these echos still haunt the hallways of my consciousness with their familiar aftertaste.

While battling my way through, I had the blessing of receiving a hand on my shoulder, a heart to warm up to, a pair of eyes to confide in, and most importantly, a sincerity that nags.

To all the snugglers: know that you are appreciated very much. I know, cos I've got one too : )

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Got this from TCC over the weekend with some old friends. Thought it was interesting, how we often read so much into so little.

"The Coffee Connoisseur

TOP Coffee Connoisseur

Tantalising Caffine Concoctions

Trusty Choice Companion

Tie Coat Casual

Total Complete Contentment

Trademark Classic Coffee

The Cuppas Cuppa"

All these on a paper napkin...

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A Monologue At Dawn

It was dark, and I was cradled in a warm mix of perfumed hair and ruffled sheets. A mechanical heartbeat filled the room while a patter of thoughts reverbed through my mind. My monologue at dawn gently hums a harmony to quiet breaths. A betrayed dream amidst tangled limbs, ripple these thoughts within. Eyes shut then open to images of a familiarity that I somehow couldn't recognise; at times, I even wonder if my eyes were even open, or if I were awake at all. Surely, I would have objected to such confusion. All but this warmth forsake my ramblings at this hour. The threat of lonliness and melancholy loomed large ahead once again.

Not this time, not here.

So this is all I've been left with. A shoulder...

No, a flame.

Where is the familiarity? Where is the smile?

Are you blind? Don't you recognise it?

No... I'm just unsure. Of myself, that is.

How can that be so? Don't you feel that warmth and that heartbeat?

Indeed I do. I fear not the physical -- these doubts that haunt me care nothing of them.

Then what is it that haunts you? So familiar you seem with it, yet still so uncomfortable it makes you.

That is true, because I know that someone in my position should not feel so. It is, well, not right. I am familiar with this state only because I have allowed myself to return to its haunting so often in the past.

What is this thing that you feel not right?

Doubt. My disastrous flirt with questions only seem to feed these flames the fuel them need to scorch my soul.

You have doubted many things, it seems.

Many... Of them all, I fear this the most.

Why?

Simply because I find it hard to express my doubt to the person in concern.

Because it concerns her directly?

Naturally. All it took was a remark, a shared expression of joy that hit a nerve still raw from my own insecurities.
Please do explain... I feel you are avoiding the main point of own concern.

I feel like such a fool each time I recount these feelings, and yet I frequently experience an evangalistic courage swell each time I try to resolve it. You see, I think that I fear to loose this familiarity that I have come to possess. This flame has given me a warmth and brilliance that I have never known, yet at the same time, it has raised a fear in me -- not of the darkness, but one of the loss of light. You see, I am starting to feel selfish, and want to keep this light all for myself.

Surely, you understand the folly of such emotions.

I do, and I desperately want to resolve it. Won't you tell me why I feel so?

You sound like you're more unsure of yourself than of this flame that you behold. Know this: the flame will burn, and brightly it shall continue to glow. While this flame burns, it shall illuminate all the night, regardless. Together with its rays will come its warmth. Similarly, to all other souls of the night who have been blessed, they too will receive these gifts of that flame. Do you understand what I mean?

I do, and I know too, that I will never be able to keep that light or warmth from spreading, lest I choke the flame with my own folly, or get burnt trying so.

Exactly. But there is something else, child.

What could that be? This flame, its brilliance and warmth is all I feel each time I enter the night.

Ah yes, the flame is lovely. What do you think it burns for? For that matter, how do you think it burns?

I can't be sure of the flame's existence, that is, I may not want to know either. Blossomed from mystery, this flame seized me in a moment of confusion, carried on a wave of inspiration and lit my darkened face.

That is beautiful, no doubt. For what do you think this flame burns?

For the night... For the souls... For life, I suppose. Surely, not for me.

But it does, doesn't it -- are you not part of all the above?

I guess I am. How silly I have been.

Now how do you think this flame burns, or sustains itself?

Through life?

Specifically?

With air, fuel and cold, perhaps? You see, I'm not too good with these questions.

Ah, but you are! Are you not part of all the above, once again?

I can' say that I understand what you mean....

This flame, doesn't it burn for you, as it does for life?

I think it does... Though I never dare remind myself of it, lest I take its brilliance for granted.

Touching, but let us stay on topic here. You spoke of wanting to keep the flame to yourself - how would you do it?

Perhaps by being the air and fuel that it burns with? The cold I wish not to be, and I know that it would be impossible to stop the light and warmth.

Surely you know that you are being a little demanding on yourself? How could you be everything and yet maintain that you want to be nothing at the same time?

I see your point... Do you suggest that this pursuit is useless?

Not entire, I'm not. I understand your insecurities, though. Know that among these feelings that you have, not all are unjustifed, yet not all are reasonable; at that same time, this situation that you find yourself in: it is not entire your responsibility.

Won't you enlighten me on your reason? I feel a strange excitement in the way we are about to arrive a conclusion.

This much I am sure: while this flame burns for life, it burns for you you most certainly. In many ways, you are not the purpose of being for the flame; you are the fuel and air, instead. You help sustain the flame and contribute to its brightness and warmth.

You flatter me with your overestimation -- this is no time for jokes!

I kid you not. Don't you see the signs? Allow me this question: did you search for this flame or did it find you?

Well... I can't be sure, we sort of found each other.

And surely something has changed since then.

Indeed, I feel that I am warmed.

And the flame?

Brighter, more brilliant and warmer. In fact, sometimes when it sputters at night, I feel its playful laughter tickle my skin. Yet there are times when the chill wind blows and I shield it the best I can.

Therein lies your answer, doesn't it?

How true. How was I blind to it all this while?

You weren't... You were simply looking in the wrong direction -- at the shadows, not the flame and body that cast them. I merely helped you turn around. The eyes and hands that recognised the flame are still yours.

Thank you.

Thank the flame. For it is still your motivation that encourages you to have this conversation with me.

And I closed my eyes, finally... To the tune of a mechanical twitch and the pleasure of an exhaled sigh. A monologue at dawn, a look into a flame -- a recognition of shadows.

Thank you for holding out for me again... This darkness that follows me around -- I'm afraid that I can never get rid of it. With each successful attempt I embrace it, know that it becomes something beautiful, just like how the darkness metamorphasises to art as shadows -- all made possible only by a flame. Your flame.

JKLM