It’s Not Goodnight

Let’s dance
Let’s not waste this one chance
Around your neck, around my waist
A game of twisted fate

The bed is our dance floor
The sheets my dress
The candles – the dim lights
Show the lies, show the lies

As we twirl, as we sway
Don’t forget the part you play
Say your lines
This makeshift dance floor is our stage
As we build up to the resolution
This time I’ll say
It’s not goodnight
It’s not goodnight

Don’t talk
It’s not the time for talking
This is the part where no words
Can be formed, will be understood

We dance faster and faster
And we fall to the groove
Of a never-ending masquerade
Of a never-ending truce

As we twirl, as we sway
Don’t forget the part you play
Say your lines
This makeshift dance floor is our stage
As we build up to the resolution
This time I’ll say
It’s not goodnight

And you say I’m your addiction
I’m your heroin
But she’s your heroine

As we twirl, as we sway
Don’t forget the part you play
As we build up to the resolution
This time I swear I’ll say
It’s not goodnight
This time I’ll try

Goodnight

Close

Whisper in her ear
Smile and stare
Like a movie scene
Pretend not to know
Pretend there’s nothing there
Like every single time before

All alone in a crowd
Oblivious

So close, so close
He moves, she talks
An inch of space
Just touch already
Go, just hold her close
So close

There’s a spring in her step
And she’s sunshine
The moon stands no chance
And he drops everything else
Every time she walks by

So close, so close
He moves, she talks
An inch of space
Just touch already
Go, just hold her close
So close, so close
He tucks her hair
Behind her hear
She smiles and leans
So close

And yet there’s really nothing there
And yet sparks still fill the air
I should really stop
Drilling holes in the back of his head
As they get

So close, so close
I wanna be
As close as she is
When his arms go ‘round her
So close, so close
But far from my reach
As I watch his eyes gaze at hers
Lovingly
So close
So close
So close

Trigger

Far away
There’s a boy who would build bridges
And come home late at night
And there’s a girl who stains her eyes and lips
And wakes up from a dream of a world
With no cars and houses

Door to door, all the windows closed
He forgets, she pretends
Far away, far away

Who would know?
Who would care?
Ready to pull
No one’s there

They crawl as they walk
As they stand on the edge
And they find there’s no distance
Between his bridges and her dreams
They talk about
They talk about

Who would know?
Who would care?
Ready to pull
No one’s there
Who would know? (bitter hopes, rough caress)
Who would care? (bring silent screams, bring perfect mess)
Ready to pull
No one’s there

They talk about
They talk about
His bridges and her dreams
They talk about
And time goes by
And they forget

Who would know?
Who would care?
Nothing to pull
The trigger’s missing
Who would know? (bitter hopes, rough caress)
Who would care? (no more screams, no more mess)
Nothing to pull
Nothing to pull

Bitter hopes, rough caress
No more screams, no more mess

Prologue

He was one of those guys – exclusive, unreachable, and important, in every sense of the word. He and his friends seem to be inside this impenetrable bubble. In there, they have created a world of their own. In there, they were like gods and goddesses among wide-eyed mortals who grovel at their feet, begging for even the slightest glance just so they could say they have entered the bubble, even for just a second.

It’s sad. And pathetic.

I remain indifferent to their world – not seeking, not rejecting. I see the difference between here and there, and I’m content enough here to even start wishing that I was there.

But life has a funny way of intervening with the normalcy. Routines break, the impossible becomes possible, the unreachable near enough to grasp. Suddenly, life takes a turn – for the worse? For the better? It’s really hard to say. All I know is that this wasn’t the life I envisioned for me. But I don’t regret anything. Not even a little bit. Not a thing at all.

A song inspired by watching two guys play StarCraft.

So I was with one of my closest friends and his friend the other day. We were in an internet shop and they were playing StarCraft, effectively shutting out the world with their utmost concentration and dedication to their game. I tried to pay attention. I really did. But hard as I try, I could not seem to get a firm grasp on it. Instead, my attention was diverted by the elegance of their hands on their respective keyboards and mouses as they tried to fight and maneuver their way to victory. There, for a moment, I was inexplicably mesmerized.

It was only after I noticed that they were both losing that I really got into watching them play. Surprisingly, I became interested with their game. It relied heavily on strategy and instinct. Metallica’s Seek and Destroy started playing in my head, and just like that, an incredible itch to write came over me.

So there I was, pen and notebook in hand, driven by the fascination I held for the game before me. Words and phrases came to my head and I wrote them all down, glancing up once in a while to watch their ongoing match. Little did I know that StarCraft would turn out to be the inspiration of one of my proudest compositions.

Half an hour, and more or less three rounds of games later, this song was finished.

White Flag

(an original)
So here we stand in the middle of a battlefield
Uncharted, unguarded as we prepare for what’s to come
And I’m filling up the blanks of your never-ending labyrinth
Grasping, pretending to know what’s going on

Refrain:
The stakes are higher this time
‘Cause the war’s begun long before we realize

Chorus:
And we gather all our strength
And we charge head on
This war before us we cannot forego
I’ll fight your losing battle
I’ll surrender all control
So when I raise my white flag, you’ll know

So here we are now before we advance
Distorted, misguided, locked in a fatal dance
The calm masks the danger, there’s truth in the lies
Unknowing, unsuspecting, trying to cross the line

Refrain:
We’ve been trying to avoid the loss
‘Cause we both know what’s at cost this time around

[Chorus]

That I have lost – that I can’t get back up again
That I am wounded – that I have kept all of this hidden
But you’re too busy with your victories
To see you’re fighting for the wrong side

Chorus:
And we used up all our strength
When we charged head on
This war’s not unavoidable
We just thought it was so
I fought your losing battle
I surrendered all control
I waved my white flag
So now you know

Signed, Sincerely Hoping You’d Get It

I used to scoff at the idea of the two of us being together.

You found it quite ridiculous as well. But we got caught in a whirlwind of intrigue and we found ourselves having to assert the fact that we were nothing more than what we claimed to be. You dismissed all the talk as the irrational human folly of needing to fabricate and seek for real-life fairytales.

We clicked despite our clashing personalities. You were a traditionalist while I was a ball of spontaneity. You thrived on technicality, and I, on overviews. You were logical. I was intuitive. And yet, we had a certain instant chemistry that almost seemed as if it was conjured up from midair.

Music, the arts, and our overwhelming curiosity were our unifying factors. Our chats, lunches and dinners increased in frequency. You were the first one I’d call whenever I needed someone to talk to. I could tell you my ideas and failures, no matter how trivial, silly, idiotic or incredibly serious they are. I saw you as an older brother, and I doubted I would see you as anything more.

But somehow, everything is different now.

You say the darnedest things – so casually, and so oblivious as to what it does to my little heart. To an outsider, we might have looked like the perfect picture of romance – the two of us sitting side by side, arms touching, talking and laughing as if being together was the most natural thing in the world for us.

And right there and then, I saw it.

I saw what a relationship with a foundation like ours would be like. No, it wasn’t full of moonlit dinners or kisses on the beach or romantic gestures and flirtations reserved for fiction and occasional cheesiness. It was convenience, stability, and sheer perfection that I saw. You’d be like a light. Not the sun that drives away the darkness but more like the stars that shine through the bleakness of the night. You would encourage me and give me time to overcome my obstacles because only you would understand that you can’t fight my battles for me. And whenever I see you, I’d know that even if things would become unbearably difficult, you will be there, serving as that speck of light in my life, and everything will be alright.

I saw it all. And I began to want it badly. And I wondered if you did too.

So I glanced up and met your gaze, your eyes burning with an intensity that rendered me speechless. And for a moment, I thought I could see everything I was thinking there in your eyes too.

But then you hugged me playfully, called me a kid, and began walking me home. A war broke out in my head, disturbing the peace it had grown accustomed to.

I used to think that I knew myself well enough to have a strong hold of my emotions. Tonight, as I lie in bed with a smile plastered on my face, a brewing internal conflict, and a heart still pounding heavily against my chest, I’m not so sure.

Insignia

I love his smile.

It is a crescent moon tilted at just the right angle shining through the bleakness of the night. It is the first star that comes out during the afternoon to evening limbo of twilight.

It is the first ray of the taciturn peeking sun as it drives away the remains of the darkness. And it is the last jubilant sun spark just as the dimness returns.

His smile is as familiar as a breath of rejuvenating air, a gulp of revitalizing water, a step into reassuring earth. But it is also as mysterious as the subject of da Vinci’s tour de force, as unique as a one-in-a-million shot in photography, a distorted reality of abstract.

It is a force that pulls the ends of my mouth in perfect synchronization. It is the resilient energy that fights off any kind of gloom. It is the sharp pinch that wakes up the sleeping soul. It is the loud cry that startles deep slumber.

His smile is a blow that takes my breath away.

It is a song for euphoria. It is a dance for joy. It is the heart’s sonata. It is the mind’s aggravation – a loss of common sense, practicality and reasoning, guided by nothing more than sheer intuition and instinct.

The response it gets from me is a smile that never quite reaches the eyes.

A secret hope.

A futile prayer.

An inane wish.

I love his smile.

She acknowledges with a smile of her own. And the ground swallows me up.

A secret hope.

A futile prayer.

An inane wish.

I love his smile.