Dawn @ Marina Barrage

Urgh I wanted to post this tomorrow evening, but I’m very sad now and I want to post something sad. Anyway it is TECHNICALLY tomorrow already. This was something I wrote today based on this profound sadness I felt on Sunday morning, 7-ish at Marina Barrage.

Early morning breeze fills your lungs as if a damp cloth is smothering the insides of your rib cage. Dew builds up cancerously in one’s chest as if one is breathing in molecular teardrops – those that fall from the sliver of the almost-moon, that upside-down frown, in its farewell to the horizon. Maybe that suffocating freshness triggers some sensory mechanism, the thoughts of the other kind of teardrop from above.

That is why one feels sad at dawn: the reminder that the night is slipping away from one’s fingertips, the grey-orange sky whispering in one’s ear, “Here ascends that orange globe, the nightmarish promise of a new beginning, to take you far away from the security of the night and the glistening stars of one’s happy memories… at least for the next 12 hours.”

One knows that despite the darkness, it always seemed like it was cradling you in the arms of someone – someone who exists despite feeling nothing, remembering nothing, saying nothing. It is that sunrise that is reminiscent of being thrust into some sort of void, the emptiness of physical reality, as one watches the clock tick towards the next escape into that cave which protects the treasures of one’s heartbreak from disintegrating under the faintly scalding kisses of the first light.

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12 comments

  1. mildred

    love the picture with 2 kites.

    sunrise holds a different sadness for me though. a reminder of promises unfulfilled. and of how each new day brings not hope or respite, but just another day of drudgingly going through the motions. and of how slowly, but surely, we’ll all be victims of time. either forgotten, or left behind.

    • Berny

      i don’t really know what i felt. i don’t really know what it meant. i just knew that in my chest welled this heaviness that i couldn’t really explain, and there was really nothing in my memory that i could pinpoint as the reason. but when i thought back on it what i really thought i felt was some sense of insecurity despite the light. and i thought about how love can be so very dark, how it blindfolds you with a false sense of security.

  2. mildred

    or a false sense of hope and a false perception. >< sigh.

    • Berny

      yeah everything that is a lie. it was still a beautiful lie. but those are the most painful… what hurts more, the beauty or the un-truth? what we’ve lost, or that what we’ve lost was something that was never real at all?

      the kite stuck in the antennae is a good visual metaphor for this situation.

  3. mildred

    issit me or are the kites rainbow-coloured…

    i think the question that tortures me most is whether or not it was a lie or whether it was something concrete. because if it was something concrete, than at least everything i’ve suffered/am suffering is still worth it. to know that once, at least, i meant something to someone. at least i’ll know that someone else will hold the same memories and experiences dear to their hearts. and it wont just be me and my crazy self.

    for me it’d hurt more if it was a lie. because tht just means that i’ve lost everything i gave. and gotten nothing back in return. and i’ll never get back what i’ve given.

    love is dark indeed…. i think that realisation hits me every night.

    • Berny

      uh the rainbow-coloured thing is damn obvious?!? it’s not just you.

      ditto, but i still don’t agree with the concept that “you’ve given everything and gotten nothing back”. i don’t know if it’s just different situations. but even though it hurts so much, i’ll always know that he “gave” me enough happiness, and at least enough wisdom, to make it all worth while.

      i would never regret that this happened as a whole, because i learned so much more about love and myself, and i live a fuller albeit more painful life now.

      and it’s never a bad thing if you can write about it.

  4. mildred

    ahaha. rainbow flags :p

    hmm well true. i guess the happy times were the best of my life. i’ll never regret that it happened too, and i think even if i had to choose again, i may not have chosen a different path. its just… sometimes you want someone so much it tears you apart, and i can’t help feeling like i may have just been one huge booty call.

    haha don’t know if my life is fuller though. i guess my ability to feel/see/perceive certain cruel truths has increase and life has taken on a whole new perspective. but deep inside, the emptiness and loneliness is so hard to bear sometimes.

    i am so concussed.

    • Berny

      i am very disturbed by your use of the phrase “booty call”, also by the fact that you said “increase” rather than “increased”.

      as i said. it’s a sacrifice i’m willing to make.

  5. mildred

    oops. shit sorry forgot the d. hahaha.

    booty callz. it does feel like that sometimes, you’re just being used for someone else’s pleasure.

    told you i was concussed ytd.

  6. mastergluer

    very nice 🙂

  7. mastergluer

    SORRY BERNY! THAT’S ME, GE. Mastergluer is my account for brainremoval -.-

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