I was rather young when I’ve heard that birthdays are days that we are best remembered. I guess I took it to heart. Although birthday greetings from friends and family make me feel embarrassed, it comes with that little something that just feels good. Like perfection wrapped in a single indefinable moment or the mixed feelings of relief like ice cold water on a summer day in the beach, that unexpected but welcomed hug, triumph in the simplest of task, a goal, or a good block against a spike from across the net…
(this is me not making sense even to self)


Maybe it’s a sentimental or over romanticized notion from childhood, but I cannot deny the fact that it matters to me and no matter how I try to be cynical about it or undermine that thought, still pops up that it holds meaning.

(I should have stayed 11 for the rest of my life. I think I was omniscient at that age. Hehehehehe. Okay maybe that was a self-imposed idea of an eleven year old me. Still, I made sense then.)

Anyway, this is for loved friends, family, adversaries and strangers who remembered. Thank you.




Waking is never the gentlest of sensations.
Like coming out for air after adapting to its absence
Burning my insides, craving for the pureness an element than the rush of another.
This is my beginning and ending. My death and my life.


Breathing is never the means to existence
It is a performance and its theater is a broken sanctuary
Breaking my tradition, reshaping the image of a soul to that of its origin
This is my reason and falsehood. My lie and my truth.

Living is not the act of survival
It is a self-imposed blindness to a darkness not seen
Purging the structure of a false society, casting empty eyes upon the source of light
This is my weakness and strength. My spirit and my frailty.


Remembering is not insufficient recording of history
Like the ravings of a madman put into a volume of half truths
Searing the eye of my mind, forcing my thoughts to imagine the infinite
This is my center and mask. My façade and my heart.


And finally, a new day begins; I wake to a different tomorrow,
Breathing in the same air I breathed in yesterday
However, I find myself living a life I have not lived before.
And I remember, yes, this is my fealty after all.



Pieces of Always
Seerborn
January 16, 2006
11:27pm
My reply – The Ataris