Never Knowing Jewell
I have gone through life without many a thing but to think upon past grief now I realize that I have gone through life without ever knowing how Jewell felt about me. Those blank stares and her spaced out attitude could just well have been her mask for which she can hide her conscience.
In truth, for the whole time I have known Jewell I have never known a time where she has spoken out to say kind words of me in respect to an attraction. I’m sure there would be a time or two she can capitalize on but the only remembrance I have are the first conversations we ever had where I asked if she liked me. It seems now that her denial was intentional as she wanted to hide from the reality.
Jewell as she told me and as I know was new to the game but not new to understanding. And that time I sent her my very first poem, that same day where she tried to act normal and done so, she concealed the truth and she protected herself. It seems to me that Jewell never wanted to get into a relationship with me but my powerful charisma and charm in the beginning led me to gain a spot.
With this smooth persistency I feel that Jewell gave in to her expectations and her chastity and decided against all that her mind was speaking to her. All was new to her and I did respect that and for that reason such a time was taken to get to know each other.
Matching Emotions
Jewell feels emotions differently to as I do or at least she conceals it well. In her own times when she left herself to be vulnerable on our phone conversations there were times when I knew that Jewell was exactly like me in emotional characteristics. This is why we had such a mental bond and I felt that I could feel her every emotion when I talked to her on the phone because I knew them so well.
Her emotions were such like mine that Jewell and I could usually interpret what each other was thinking and we could always sense when something was wrong in each other. As to Jewell feeling emotions differently I hold that to her for the fact that she chose to push away from what could have been. I had also done the same but for all different reasons, I was tired of the chase, tired of the suppression and tired of my emotional drain that would have soon led to extinction.
Remembering A Daydream
Jewell cried with my cries, she dreamed with my dreams, she laughed as I laughed but she never loved as I loved and therefor she died as I died. It is sad that this one true love could have been but in turn had not been. It does take its toll when you see me here, writing Sonnets not only for inspiration but to hold on to my memories and mark them once again.
I write none more for the creator of the lost years who was an advocate for such and was such an adamant individual in such. Alas, Jewell’s better part to me is remembered as the fantasy that be. For all that I knew of her I was happier to be with her but that never lasted. Therefor, I prefer to remember her how she made herself be, as a daydream and at night a fantasy.
To have had her on the phone for so long never being able to see her and then having my chance if only for one night, that would be my memories most devoted. The night she came over last, when we last met after a year suppressed from my vision my day had come, short but cunning to my lust. Jewell on her bad day, with worn clothes but a beautiful glow did look as her good days would allow and I would love to remember those goods days, I would allow.
Peace And Dreams
Peace be, let peace of you be, and let these days and night’s seem but hours in my mind. Unless I wink and dream of thee, then let an hour be the better of these. Where my hour is dark, prolong the sleep if I dream of thee. Where my hour is bright let daydream last an eternity. But let me wake if you are near, this dream of mine that I endear. And sing to me, yet hold me close to hand, as in my dreams you do not sing but my mind does sing of endearment.
And let me hear you without my yielding hand, say these words beloved. Speak them to my heart that will make even the heaven’s smile and wink brightly. Alas, you cannot, even my dreams forbid such actions not of your temperament. But I wish that it were, as I would paint a picture with your love. But loath I where as I the artisan being thought have to my mind etched your worth and unto that canvas your worthlessness. Yet what sheds a tear, not I, not my canvas but the vision that hath captured the artisan.
That being you, have all but shed a tear and to me, only tears in happiness did you give. Now my loved where it bitters my tongue to say, I do not loath you but here I must say. You have lived me, you have grieved me, you have heard me but of love, you have not loved of me. Forsake your tears and bid away your grip upon the artisan. Once he did hold you dear, but once too many a time you did of him fear.
Wednesday 11:41 p.m.
A Day Without Excitement
Once again, another day has drawn to an end and the curtains have closed to excitement. Though there was none today except for the Gym I have a fair few topics to talk about but hardly a book to fill tonight. My day started for me at 1:45 p.m. by a call on the phone but it wasn’t from someone I had known. Rather, it was a person inquiring about buying the weight set we had and if you feel lost, let me explain.
My Brother's Leftovers
A couple of days ago or after my dad came back home from his last trip to see my brother in Queensland. Upon coming back and a couple of days ago dad informed me that he was selling all my brother’s possessions that were still at the house being only the telescope in his room and the weight bench with weights outside. If I haven’t noted so already I thought Lyssa could use the telescope since it was pretty large and walking to the backyard where my dad was I haggled with him.
Haggling In The Backyard
The price of the telescope I heard was $650 and dad wanted to sell it for $400 so the price that I was thinking of selling it to Lyssa for being a mere $50 was pretty much out of the question. On Eric’s benefit my dad didn’t want to sell it cheap so we agreed that if he didn’t sell the telescope then I would ask the person if they wanted to buy it for $250. A day or two ago I asked Lyssa her thoughts even though I was going to keep it from her until the day came.
Lyssa informed me that she wanted a new telescope but she didn’t sound too keen upon it and I feel it was because of the price. If it was mine I would have given it to her but that can’t happen so I won’t even bother asking Lyssa again if she wants it. Well anyway, today some guy rang at 1:45 p.m. waking me up and inquiring about this Gym equipment and thinking that mum and dad weren’t back from shopping I answered most of his questions and that was about it. I feel that I talked with them more freely about the Gym equipment than my dad probably would have.
Diary Of A Mad Chaos is a daily diary written from March 1996 until today, of which individual books and book series have been created, namely “The Lost Years” an exploration of young, entwined love, the “Wubao In China (猎艳奇缘)” book series which provides an extensive comparative analysis of the cultural differences between Eastern and Western societies, and the book titled “Foreigner (华人)” an exploration of race relations in Australia.
