Not one of those one-tear-down-your-cheek because a heart string was pulled, but an honest to goodness cry. There was a puddle on my cubicle desk the size of my palm, because I was too shy to showcase my emotional agitation so I was face down on the desk.
I was listening to Dave Matthew's Oh, the only song which can make me cry spoonfuls of tears at any random moment. It was because I miss my mom, my old mom.
I hear you still talk to me
As if you're sitting in that dusty chair
The other day I came home to a glass of sugar water in the sink. This is frustrating as my mother is a stroke-patient diabetic. She can not move her left hand and can barely maneuver her left leg. A glass of sugar water is a death wish. Months of all this had deadened me, had this happened a year ago I would have been stark enraged. That night, I had simply let out a sigh and poured the contents of the glass down the kitchen sink.
It's cold and darkness falls
It's as if you're in the next room so alive
I could swear I hear you singing to me
Prior to her stroke, my mother is a lawyer. She braves long bus rides to provide to her four children-all by herself. She took beating after beating from my abusive father. I believe this had only made her more loving and protective. She is what strong should be. Looking at the four of us, I can sincerely say that we did not turn out so bad, however we are just subjected to the luck of the draw--or the severe lack of good luck in it.
I love you oh so well
Like a kid loves candy and fresh snow
I love you oh so well
Enough to fill up heaven overflow and fill hell
This entry is for my mother, because she makes me cry on an almost daily basis. Despite all the neurosis, suicide attempts before and after her stroke, shouting matches, and defiance, I love her oh so well.
I was listening to Dave Matthew's Oh, the only song which can make me cry spoonfuls of tears at any random moment. It was because I miss my mom, my old mom.
I hear you still talk to me
As if you're sitting in that dusty chair
The other day I came home to a glass of sugar water in the sink. This is frustrating as my mother is a stroke-patient diabetic. She can not move her left hand and can barely maneuver her left leg. A glass of sugar water is a death wish. Months of all this had deadened me, had this happened a year ago I would have been stark enraged. That night, I had simply let out a sigh and poured the contents of the glass down the kitchen sink.
It's cold and darkness falls
It's as if you're in the next room so alive
I could swear I hear you singing to me
Prior to her stroke, my mother is a lawyer. She braves long bus rides to provide to her four children-all by herself. She took beating after beating from my abusive father. I believe this had only made her more loving and protective. She is what strong should be. Looking at the four of us, I can sincerely say that we did not turn out so bad, however we are just subjected to the luck of the draw--or the severe lack of good luck in it.
I love you oh so well
Like a kid loves candy and fresh snow
I love you oh so well
Enough to fill up heaven overflow and fill hell
This entry is for my mother, because she makes me cry on an almost daily basis. Despite all the neurosis, suicide attempts before and after her stroke, shouting matches, and defiance, I love her oh so well.
Celebration Guns: Dave Matthews - Oh
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