(I know, i know, this blog needs a new look, and a new header. Oh yeah, I do not know whether I'll keep this name or choose a new name for this blog as well)
Warning: This blog shall undergo massive changes. hehe. Thanks to http://www.track.unodc.org/ for the pic.
Writing from a sick bed is apparently what I do best (maybe cause i'll be emo. LOL), and today is where i find myself down with an old nemesis, Gastritis. (yay.)
I also realize I haven't written in a long time. I guess it's due to various factors, amongst which is the fact I was starting to go on an unending circle of dreary rant after dreary rant.
I feel like a sick old man. Thanks to http://www.claudiawolf.com/ for the pic!
This will be one of those emo posts, of course (have to keep my signature dish), but there is a kind of direction, albeit from the mess. Hang in tight for a one year's worth of emotions. It's about time.
(Oh yeah, the bloody chatbox on the right is badly hacked and useless, so i removed it. Some interesting things should surface once I actually update the look of the blog.)
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Nope, I am still not in a church or found a place I belong to at the moment. Soul searching seems to have taken a long time for me, and is still underway. Looks like I ain't outta this wilderness at the moment.
After a certain incident that happened in April last year and disaster struck in May, I've been on a non-stop spiral of I don't know what I'm doing hence I'm just floating around and doing jackshit. Work performance faltered. Studies took a back seat, even side projects got sidetracked and derailed. You could call me a mess.
Fun pic: my room actually looks like this right now. Also, i need a better camera.
Many of whom I consider my close friends (or maybe not) has lost touch since all this has started happening. I guess it's the grief. I guess is the want of an answer. I guess is the fact that I never realize that I'll probably never ever gonna get through the fact that what's done is done, and what's gone is gone for good.
I admit, I'm a lousy sport when it comes to showing that I care and that I hurt, too. I only know how to bottle it up inside and spill it all on this lousy, ill maintained blog. And that, in cryptic circles and bloody rhymes that make people think I'm some BS all-righteous bitch with some dark secrets. I know, I don't know how to share my feelings. Haih.
I also am lousy with consistency, and I completely do not know what to do with my life. I do not have a direction or a want in life. And it frustrates the hell outta me. I want and I need a reason to do what I do and love what I do and a reason to exist.
lol. http://the4faces.com/
Sure, there are glimses, but time and time again I lose sight of it, or it lets me down. I'm so overwhelmingly... lost. Even what I do best doesn't even seem to interest me the way I loved to tweak and mess around anymore.
You might even call me depressed. There is though, buts.
I am optimistic that this all is a process that I have to go through. There are demons to get rid off, scores to settle, disciplines to set and direction to find, but I know I will get out of it eventually. I just don't want to get out of it way too late to be of any relevance or weight anymore.
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Even though you could call it expected, I was completely shocked by the leaving of my hero in life - my dad. He's not a perfect man, he's no angel, he's done a lot of stuff anyone would regret, he's said stuff he never meant, but by God he tries his best.
He might have realized a thing or two a tad late in his life, but he never let age or strength or sleep stop him when he did. He helps, he fixes. And he never expected a thing in return.
Frankly, I'll never be able to come close to him in terms of integrity and character, a sensitive person who cares deeply about everyone he's seen or met. A person who isn't afraid to voice out his opinion and not budge, but at the same time, never hesistant to admit he is wrong.
And a hair over 57 years is too short for anyone of his caliber to be around. If anything, the world treated him unfairly. He had so many years of good service and talent to fearlessly contribute. But he was shut up, ignored and silenced by many. Yet he never gave up.
I wish I didn't say many things or did what I did. I wish I could've been there to get more out of a man who works himself out not caring about his own health or welfare, for the sake of his family and people and causes he holds dear. I wish sometimes, I could have just stopped him every now and then and let him rest for a while, if only so he can regain his strength and health. IT WAS PAINFUL seeing him stubbornly work to the bone.
And oh how he was not appreciated only until he left, by so many people whom he held dear. If anything, I completely resent more than half the people who suddenly turned up to wish who he left behind condolences. I admit, I was part of the fault, but where were all this hypocrites when he needed affirmation, love and care when he was so exhausted giving?
But let's not dwell on that. His legacy remains, and will never be matched or surpassed by those who will come after him or has before. A man greater and many, and a time allotted too short. Never appreciated, but nevertheless gave and never received.
He will be missed, particularly by those who hold him dear, but fail in letting him know enough.
Most likely the last ever picture of him taken while still alive, on his birthday barely a month before his death. He's not a guy who's photographed often. Sorta sums up who he was in his later years.
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This blog post, though, I fear, too hastily written with too many insuffiently profound words, is dedicated to my dad, Winston Charles Lewis (15 April 1955 - 11 May 2012). A year has passed and it feels like he left us way too soon just a moment ago. He is missed.
