you’re a great person, you know that. but i think this is goodbye, forever. it’s not about being heartless, it’s not about being pragmatic, it’s not about taking the easy way out; it’s about God.

so long on status quo
i think i’ll just let go
You make me wanna be brave

But darling,
You are the only exception
You are the only exception
You are the only exception
You are the only exception

Maybe I know, somewhere
Deep in my soul
That love never lasts
And we’ve got to find other ways
To make it alone
Keep a straight face
And I’ve always lived like this
Keeping a comfortable, distance
And up until now
I had sworn to myself that I’m
Content with loneliness

Because none of it was ever worth the risk

You are the only exception
You are the only exception
You are the only exception
You are the only exception

I’ve got a tight grip on reality
But I can’t let go of what’s in front of me here
I know you’re leaving in the morning, when you wake up
Leave me with some kind of proof it’s not a dream

You are the only exception
You are the only exception
You are the only exception
You are the only exception

And I’m on my way to believing
Oh, and I’m on my way to believing

Love Is A Parallax by Sylvia Plath

‘Perspective betrays with its dichotomy:
train tracks always meet, not here, but only
in the impossible mind’s eye;
horizons beat a retreat as we embark
on sophist seas to overtake that mark
where wave pretends to drench real sky.’

‘Well then, if we agree, it is not odd
that one man’s devil is another’s god
or that the solar spectrum is
a multitude of shaded grays; suspense
on the quicksands of ambivalence
is our life’s whole nemesis.

So we could rave on, darling, you and I,
until the stars tick out a lullaby
about each cosmic pro and con;
nothing changes, for all the blazing of
our drastic jargon, but clock hands that move
implacably from twelve to one.

We raise our arguments like sitting ducks
to knock them down with logic or with luck
and contradict ourselves for fun;
the waitress holds our coats and we put on
the raw wind like a scarf; love is a faun
who insists his playmates run.

Now you, my intellectual leprechaun,
would have me swallow the entire sun
like an enormous oyster, down
the ocean in one gulp: you say a mark
of comet hara-kiri through the dark
should inflame the sleeping town.

So kiss: the drunks upon the curb and dames
in dubious doorways forget their monday names,
caper with candles in their heads;
the leaves applaud, and santa claus flies in
scattering candy from a zeppelin,
playing his prodigal charades.

The moon leans down to took; the tilting fish
in the rare river wink and laugh; we lavish
blessings right and left and cry
hello, and then hello again in deaf
churchyard ears until the starlit stiff
graves all carol in reply.

Now kiss again: till our strict father leans
to call for curtain on our thousand scenes;
brazen actors mock at him,
multiply pink harlequins and sing
in gay ventriloquy from wing to wing
while footlights flare and houselights dim.

Tell now, we taunq where black or white begins
and separate the flutes from violins:
the algebra of absolutes
explodes in a kaleidoscope of shapes
that jar, while each polemic jackanapes
joins his enemies’ recruits.

The paradox is that ‘the play’s the thing’:
though prima donna pouts and critic stings,
there burns throughout the line of words,
the cultivated act, a fierce brief fusion
which dreamers call real, and realists, illusion:
an insight like the flight of birds:

Arrows that lacerate the sky, while knowing
the secret of their ecstasy’s in going;
some day, moving, one will drop,
and, dropping, die, to trace a wound that heals
only to reopen as flesh congeals:
cycling phoenix never stops.

So we shall walk barefoot on walnut shells
of withered worlds, and stamp out puny hells
and heavens till the spirits squeak
surrender: to build our bed as high as jack’s
bold beanstalk; lie and love till sharp scythe hacks
away our rationed days and weeks.

Then jet the blue tent topple, stars rain down,
and god or void appall us till we drown
in our own tears: today we start
to pay the piper with each breath, yet love
knows not of death nor calculus above
the simple sum of heart plus heart.

******

truly i wish it were just so simple.

growing up certainly is complicated.

i made this resolution one year ago, and it’s time to renew it. it’s a simple testament to how much you’ll grow if you keep your eyes on God and off the things that would so easily drag you down. let this mark another year of being found only in Him.

to seek Your Lovely Face
ever before my eyes
this is my prayer
make it my strong desire
in my secret heart
no other love competes
no rival throne survives
and I serve only You

but it’s time to stop running away. it’s time to stop finding all ways and means to escape. sometimes it’s so tempting and easy to fall and take the easy way out. the battles before were tough; the battles ahead only seem to get tougher, while my strength only seems to wane. yet i need to know that the battle is not mine, but His.

all to Jesus I surrender
all to Him I freely give
I will ever love and trust Him
in His Presence daily live

i’m glad God’s using me and changing me recently. i’m glad He’s shown me how to love, to see things through His eyes and not mine, and for so much more. i really feel His hand moulding and shaping me into who He wants me to be.

yet i struggle with the expectation of being, well, a new and better creation in Him. yes i’m learning to love, but it isn’t without it’s struggles. it isn’t without the times of struggling and accepting people. it isn’t without knowing that deep down i’m still highly critical and judgmental. it is a struggle, because i know i want to be an extension of His love, yet i don’t think i can be, cos of all these skeletons in the closet.

maybe it’s a struggle because, deep down, i struggle with being worthy of being changed and transformed. i honestly feel it’s too big at times. i feel that i’ll never be able to let go of these tinted lenses that i see people through, and because of that, i’ll never completely be transformed. yes it’s no longer a challenge loving the less privileged and less fortunate, but what about those who you’re just naturally opposed to, people whose character traits clash so fiercely with yours and you just can’t see eye to eye with? i still can’t find it in myself and bring myself to extend this love. i still find myself highly critical of them. i feel disappointed, in all honesty, that i can’t let go yet.

but i do hope that it will change one day… just need to keep reminding myself that God’s focused more on the process than the product, and that i’m not expected to, in the blink of an eye, be someone else altogether. just got to keep taking those small steps in the right direction…