Winter Blues

"I'm fine. I'll be fine," I whispered to myself as I grab another tissue and furiously wiped my tears. It's not even noon yet and I was already in tears, a too-typical scenario that I thought would never ever happen again now that I am not with my ex anymore. But it happened, and this time there was no one to blame. It's just life.

A part of me was making tons of excuses: the weather swings (from heat-stroke sunny days to gloomy-ass rainy days), my period, the fact that yes it has only been 3 months since the divorce was filed and naturally I am still grieving, the new life that I have right now, me overstretching myself to be better and burned myself out in the process. Another part of me, a more logical part of me simply berate me for being weak and questioned my existence. Yeah, she's not that nice, but useful though to push me above my limit.

I get it. I know my limit. I know things I can do and things that I can't do. I can do the things that I wanted or needed to do. Yet at the same time, I am not ready. Haven't we all been there? The feeling that we just can't? I feel like walking in quicksand (not that I actually did), or in a sinking boat. It's the feeling that the end is near and there is nothing to hold on too, no solid steps or rocks to step on. I know in the end I will be able to lift myself up and save myself from whatever it is, but right now it feels so overwhelming and I can't shake off that desperate and melancholy feeling.

It is not so bad, actually. It's hard to stay depressed when you are aware how good life is. The next good food, the next genuine smile, the next funny joke, and I'll be as happy as a bee in a summer day. Normally. Yet it doesn't always happen like that. Sometimes you are so down and so blue that nothing could lift your spirit, not even your favorite things or favorite food or (gasps!) favorite person. And it's fine. You just need to ride it out.

Sometimes people don't get it, or overlook it when trying to make the other person feeling better. "Cheer up, buttercup!" "There are worse things in life." "You can do it!!". To their credit, it hurts to see the person you care about, or heaven forbid, the person you look up to, being down in the dump like that. Unfortunately, feelings don't work that way. Telling somebody to cheer up when they're down is like telling somebody to grow an inch or two in an instant. Feeling, especially negative ones, need to be ridden out; and the best thing you can do for someone is to tell them these words: "I know you are in a bad place. Take your time. I will wait for you until you are ready."

We can't change our emotion from happy to 'normal' or sad to 'normal' in an instant, just as we can't change our height or weight or skin color in an instant. We can change our emotion or feeling if there is a strong enough trigger, but even the strongest trigger won't necessarily work if we are already holed up in our own little world. Feelings, emotions, they wane off. Nothing last forever, no matter how hard you try to hold on to them (but if the feeling/emotion does stay, you might have a pathological issue). All we can do is ride them off until it doesn't matter anymore and we can 'snap' out of it.

As much as I want to say that it is a sign of weakness, it is not. Being sad, being hurt, being physically and/or emotionally overwhelmed is a valid enough reason to went into the chute, the abyss of desperation. Heck, you feel you. We don't need to explain or apologize or make excuse on how we really feel. We can talk about it to make us feel better and to not alienate our love ones, but no excuses needed. Discussion, not excuses, just as Hallows, not Horcruxes. But sometimes, when you can't even bring yourself to talk, rejoice in your silence. It is ok to be depressed.

Since winter is approaching, this might be an issue for a lot of people. I can feel myself (and my sanity) being dragged deeper and deeper in my desperation every passing day. It is funny I never realize how dependent I am with the sun, or scientifically, to vitamin D3. Some say taking additional Vitamin D3 might ease the winter blues (such romantic name for such uncool and horrifying time of the year), but do take them responsibly. Just talking to you readers like this already making me feel better. I still feel like the world is coming to an end, but I don't really give a sh*t about that anymore. Stay warm dear reader, and stay sunny. Winter can't last forever, nor our sadness and desperation. We'll be just fine.

Poison Control - Short Story

"Well?" she asked. I looked at her with both lust and contempt. Such a vain, vain woman. She has started to gain weight, and age has definitely catching up with her. Yet still she was mesmerizing. Her every movement, even the slightest one, sent me into a dizzying spiral of desire. The voice that promised heaven, the scent that promised paradise, the physique that promised your every wish will be fulfilled; how I hated her!

"Well what?" I replied casually, even though my heart beat so hard I was so sure she could hear it. She smirked. Oh Gods above! That smile! Those lips! What would I give to crushed them with mine. Berries. Her kisses always tasted like berries, as it was her favorite snack. Sometimes it would be the tang of wine, sometimes it would be the taste of miswak that she chewed to keep those pearly white teeth beautiful. It was irrelevant though, because you would always come back for more kisses; each hungrier than the last. Help me Gods, help me.

She looked right into my eyes, and to me, it felt she looked right into my soul. I suppressed a shudder. She was known as the most famous courtesan not for nothing. Regardless of your social status, a night with her means you will be king for the night: your ego stroked, your confidence boosted, your existence became the most important thing in the world. Even the Emperor himself was not immune to her charisma and accepting his fate to be just one among her many devotees. She could read your soul and made you hers, and you would gratefully accept your cruel fate. Not me, though. Not me.

I touched the gold ring around my ring finger and suddenly felt hot. The image of my wife flashed before my very eyes, graceful Amerys with her fragile physique and serene look. How dead she looked compare to this colorful creature. Amerys was so pale and so quiet, one could easily mistake her for a drowned victim when she sleeps. But unlike this creature, this horrible creature, Amerys has always been mine, all mine. That's why I had to go, I had to stop this feeling. Poor Amerys, she did not deserve to be treated like this, to be with a man who can't be loyal to her. I wanted to be a good husband for her.

"Don't do this," she whispered. Was there a hint of threat in her voice? Who knew. Her voice was lush and luxurious, like the soft animal fur that covered her entire boudoir. A scholar that I met at the bar one time told me bitterly, "Only a cruel, heartless person could live so comfortably among the slayed innocents like that." I secretly agreed with him, what was she if not cruel and heartless. Yet as I sat on her window sill a few nights after I thought I could see the scholar looked longingly at her window from afar. There he was, the innocent prey that would or has adorned her vicious parlor. I hated her for it, because I realized that I was also her prey.

The memory made my blood boil. I have to go. I have to get away from this wicked woman. "Do what?" I answered with a smile. I gently run my fingers on the side of her face and her neck, which made her smiled and purred with pleasure. "Do this?" I whispered, placing my fingers on her lips, taunting her. She grinned and gave them a quick kiss. The rush kicked in. For a moment I wanted nothing than undressed her and have my way with her, to devoured her with my desire. But didn't every other man feel the same? Day in day out, nights after nights, there was always someone new for her. There was always another man coming out of her apartments looking like he just won the jackpot or got thunderstruck or, most of the time, both. She'll have a repeat now and then, I was lucky enough to be her repeat for a while, but not for long. I thought marrying Amerys would save me, but I was wrong.

She got up from the chaise to get some drink on the table. As she stood fiddling with the decanter I could see her silhouette in the thin gown she was wearing, and my mind run wild. I wanted her, but she didn't want me. I could be good, but she didn't want to be good. She wanted to be a whore. She wanted to be a disgusting pig where any man could come and plowed her mercilessly. How despicable. And I had promised her a good respectable life, the life that she should have had with me. How gay our life would be had she accepted it, how full of passion our days would be. Instead I ended up being with that bone-dry Amerys, while she gave herself to lesser men than me. I suffered life with a frigid wife while she lived it up. I had to endure this emptiness because of her rejection, while she filled herself with many men. What a revolting, horrible creature!

That's why she had to go, and the darlings in my left breast pocket would be her demise. She came back with two crystal glasses of wine and handed one to me with a smile. "Wait," I told her and motioned her to sit next to me on the chaise. I smiled my most charming smile and pulled out the tin box from my breast pocket. Her eyes widened as I opened the box to show the little balls inside. "Compressed carbonator, oh beautiful one." In the past I had managed to procure the carbonator from the royal chemist to seduce her, she liked it so much I became her repeat for a while. I had rightly guessed it impressed her still, because she tossed herself at me and gave me a wet, sensual kiss. Her saliva filled my mouth and I suddenly felt half-drunk myself. There's a little bitterness there, almond perhaps? I couldn't care, it was filling my mouth nicely. I had always love her kisses. Always. 

After what seemed like forever she pulled herself from me and laughed heartily. Such pretty peals of laughter. I will miss that. Amerys couldn't laugh prettily to save her life. I dropped one of the little balls in her wine and like a little girl she watched it fizzed. The room felt brighter and shone in vivid colors as she laughed again and drank the wine greedily when the bubbles started to slow down. Yes, drank all you want love. So pretty, so luscious, and soon, so dead. All of the carbonators were tainted. That was a just retribution for what she did to me. Such fitting retribution. After the last gulp she looked uncomfortable. She tried to take deep breaths, but it didn't work. The potion worked by constricting her breath way. She kept gulping for air, yet still looked pretty. It was amusing to see when she finally lost her balance and fell from the chaise, her hair covered her face and her body situated as if she had just had a particularly satisfying intercourse. Why not, I thought to myself. I opened my trousers and had my way with her, over and over again. 

When I finally collapsed to the chaise I looked at her with unsuppressed satisfaction.  She was covered with my fluid, and with bruises and bite marks all over her. I have had her before, so many times; but this time she was all mine, and she will stay that way from now on. Who owns you now, whore? I sighed deeply and smiled. Free, at last. And I got to get the last laugh too. My manhood hurt, but I was too spent to do anything else. Maybe later, if she was still warm. I closed my eyes and soon the ecstasy drifted me to a peaceful sleep. Bye bye little slut, and good riddance. You wronged me and this was what you deserve. So good though, her body was just so good. I would miss that. I really would. 

When I opened my eyes the sun was shining warmly and dyed the sand of the shore golden. It also enhanced the color of the blue sea stretched in front me. Such a beautiful day, such a beautiful place. There was no sound to be heard, and I was all alone. It was good though. I breathed deeply, in and out, enjoying my moment of peace. From a far I could see a speck coming towards the shore, and it wasn't long before I realized it was a man on a small row boat. When the boat reached the shore he stretched a hand to me. "Don't mind if I do," I said genially. As I stood on the boat I felt a couple of gold coins in my trouser pocket. Now where did that come from? I shrugged and thought to myself, "It doesn't matter.". I handed the coins to the boatman and sat comfortably as he rowed us away. All was peaceful, all was good.

________

Epilogue:

She looked at him twitched and convulsed as the fizz in her wine died down. With the last of the fizz, he took the last of his breath too, lying unmoved in her chaise. She stood up and poured all the wine into the basin. There was a loud hiss when the liquid hit the metal. She took a vial from her drawer and rinsed her mouth thoroughly with the liquid from the vial. When she's done, she approached his dead body, carefully closed his eyes and put two gold coins on them. "For the boatman," she said gently, "may your trip be peaceful."

At that moment her door opened with a bang and a gaunt woman stood in the doorway. When she saw the dead man her body became taunt with emotion, and colors rose to her cheek. "My husband, is he..." She looked at her and answered matter-of-factly, "Yes." The gaunt stranger let out a sob. She suddenly flinged herself at the woman, and cried in joy, "You did it my love, you did it!!" They kissed passionately, and the gaunt woman had never looked more beautiful than she was in her unbriddled joy.

She remembered the first day Amerys came to her. She had thought Amerys would be like other wife or bethroted that would cry and threaten and beg for her to leave their men alone. She never understood, because it was their men that could never leave her alone when she really didn't care about them. But Amerys was different. She could see the cold fire in her, and she admired her determination. Her beautiful Amerys, as elegant as Calla Lily yet as deadly as Belladona, she was Amerys' since the first day they met, and Amerys was hers. 

Amerys saw the gold coins and looked at her sadly, "I am sorry you have to do this."

She caressed her straight black hair and kissed her lovingly, "I have to. He has been hurting you for too long and he has killed some of my other lovers. I don't want trouble." 

"You wont get any, I swear by my family's name," Amerys answered, "The poison is untraceable and it looked like a heart attack. He might experienced some hallucinations towards the end, but that is all. Untraceable and you could even say he died happily." 

She nodded. "You are a little devil to think about concocting a poison like that, activated by body heat and transferable by kiss, how did you even think of that?".

Amerys blushed at the obvious compliment, "Poison works best when there is little to no tension in the body, so..." 

She loved the way Amerys blushed, so she kissed her again. "Should I be scared of you?" she whispered seductively. 

Amerys blushed even deeper red, "No, please don't," Amerys stammered, "I wont harm you ever, I promised." 

She smiled and wrapped her arms around her tiny waist, pulling her closer to her. "Should I love you then?" 

Amerys flustered, her mouth opened and closed until she finally whispered, "Yes. Please." 

She smiled triumphantly. "Good," she said and kissed Amerys hard on the mouth, "because I really do love you, Amerys Borgia."

Pretty Girl Rocks

I am pretty. Goddammit I really am. I'm not just pretty nice, pretty strong, or pretty awesome; or, as some would say, pretty stubborn, pretty annoying, pretty aggravating. I really am pretty. I got complimented a lot wherever I go. I mean, being an Indonesian in LA is already a pretty niche position, there aren't that many of us around. We're not Philippines or Hispanic, we're just…different. However, these days the compliments were going extra strong. People actually like looking at me. And let me tell you: It feels sooo good.

This is not the first time I felt this way. I think every time I fall in love or started a new relationship I got this feeling too. You feel pretty and significant when you are in love and being loved, so naturally you will enjoy looking at yourself in the mirror more. Endorphins work wonder on our complexion and poise and our whole self in general. Our skin aglow, our smiles brighten, our eyes lit with hope and wonder; in short: we're love-struck. Every inch of our body screamed 'love' and 'affection', and since we are in (almost) constant happy mood, the world seems to be so much nicer and absolutely wonderful.

But you know what else triggered that endorphin, perhaps even bigger than love itself? Success. Self-confidence. Freedom. Knowledge that you got your sh*t together.

I want to say I got it all together, but I didn't. Or, to be exact, I haven't got it together. The euphoria of the battlefield (a.k.a my divorce) has waned and now I am able to see clearly the desolated path lies before me. I am still struggling with my new job and I am worried that I might not cut for it. I don't know how I can save enough money to go home and visit my family next summer. I am swamped with homework and online course, and I haven't had full 8 hours of sleep since July (note: people who knows me well understand how big of an issue it is for me). I miss my family, my step kids, my cats. Things honestly do not look rosy for me.

Yet I rocked wine-colored body-hugging shirt dress and black combat boots to my work meeting. I downed (free!) samples of liquors and wines at the LA Women's Expo with some girlfriends, then conclude it with the all-famous LA's Danger Dogs. I went to carved pumpkins festival and had a blast (Cthulhu for prez!!), wandering around for almost 2 hours. I met a dear friend for the first time ever, despite the fact we both living near (or in) LA for 3 years. I went to Seattle and experienced 36 hours of awesomeness of Rail Tripping (yes Amtrak, that's what I will call it from now on). I danced Balinese dance for the first time (and totally failed at it). My days are long but people has never been nicer to me, which makes the 6+ hours commute each day totally worth it. Life is awesome.

In a way, that's what makes me glow: the notion that life is awesome. What's more important is the understanding and knowledge that not only I have the right to experience life to the max, I also can do it. I am no longer the timid puppy waiting for the master to come home, I am a wolf running free in the wild. I felt like I have been pushed to run in Iron Man race (which, by the way, will never happen in real life) and so I grudgingly did and feeling like I was gonna die; but I survived and I look back in surprise thinking: "Holy sh*t! I actually did it!".  I know my strength. I know what I am capable of. I am also very, very proud of myself. It's beautiful, myself is; beautiful even though kinda chipped here and there, but I won't change it for anything because the broken bits only enhanced its beauty. Yes, I bloomed; and goddammit how I glowed!

Knowing my strength also allows me to be me. There were days, nights when the old me came back with worries and fear, questioning everything and instill doubts in me. It is uncomfortable, but it is not permanent anymore. For instance, when I get worried whether or not I am 'good' enough for my beau, I would toss my head up and said bravely, "I can always walk away". [Though with a little quiver still. I really dig him]. Not that I intend to, but the notion of what I can do gives me strength and confidence that I need. I am no longer tethered to 'What if…", which is very good, because not all What-ifs are preventable or manageable and I'll be wasting my time and energy fretting over them. As a presidential candidate said: "The shackles have been taken off me!"

No, my previous relationship was not the shackle, as tempting as it is to claimed it as one. My shackle is my doubts, my lack of self-confidence. My shackle is my own mind tethering me to 'safety' in order to get a happily ever after where I will be safe and sound. My shackle is my fear of not being accepted, of having to live by myself and unloved. There is still a good part of me shackled, especially in the manner of self-confidence, but I am looking forward to be free from it and strut my way in the world. Even now when I am only halfway (ok, maybe 2/3 of the way) freed, I can feel myself rising to the challenge, blooming and more receptive to the amazingness of the world. I am free, with my five senses spoiled and my heart filled with love. Is it really a wonder I look so different these days?

There will be times, challenging times ahead; because God likes to challenge us and Universe likes to tease us. There will be times when the mood of my writings will be more somber or even downright devastating (again). But that could wait. For now, I am enjoying my grinning face and my easy going struts. For now, I enjoy the compliments and the dreamy look from people who seen me. For now, I enjoy planning and filling my days with fun and laughter, as well as pursuing my ambitions. For now, I enjoy this feeling of self-confidence and freedom, and the pride in myself as well as the pride of knowing I got my sh*t together. And no, you can't take that away from me. Nobody can. Enjoy this smile fellas, you'll be seeing this smile for quite a while.