Finding Forever.

Gravity.

2012-02-14T00:02:00.004+08:00

wanted to write something meaningful, what people would say relevant to my life. You'd realize that people always have something to say about you - your hair, shoes, even eyebrows. Everyone has shitloads to say about everything about you.

Why should I care that you don't like my shirt? I like it just the way it is, tattered and with it strips of once vibrant colors. I'm the one wearing it, for one. But the truth is, people don't give a shit how your shirt looks. They just want to say things that'll make you look bad, thus making them look good. A sense of superiority is all they're seeking, by the petty way of demeaning you.

They're everywhere. You've no escape.

actually really wanted type something that'll really let things go, but heard john mayer and went on to learn the chords to gravity instead.

I have the attention span equivalent to that of a corgi.

One.

2012-02-07T00:16:00.002+08:00

There's so many worries in life, yet one that kept me puzzled and confused is still the one about you.

I like to think myself as being on some sort of mission. To seek out my other half. My soul mate. Etc.

Maybe I've watched too much romantic comedies to have this sort of mindset in me, but that's really just what I thought and will always think, until some point in the future when I'm broke and realize that I can't survive on feelings alone.

And til that tipping point comes, I would be happy to remain as a hopeless romantic. One who fails frequently and most terribly.

Hopeless, yes. but I deigned to remain hopeful, always.

Manual to Labor.

2012-01-28T00:06:00.002+08:00

I scoff at the inane ramblings of my own that I call blogging.

Alright, to the ramblings themselves.

I've been meaning to list out what's wrong with my life for a couple of years now, the lists just kept growing over the years and I just sorta lost count and the the mood to write them all out. Still, can't deny credits for having tried. I mean, how does "not growing taller" fits into that list?

Found out plenty of wrongs to right. But how? It's not like there's a guidebook somewhere that gives you insight into there things. When you ask, people just tells you to go ahead with it, and when you do fuck up, they tell that fucking up is proof that you're growing up. I mean, seriously?

For one, I have screwed up social skills. I really suck. Period.

How's that one for measure? What do you do when you can't talk and you're not dumb? Open your mouth like a gaping idiot? Well, that's what I do most of the time in situations where I'm required to open my mouth. Excluding eating and drinking and breathing. Other than that, I'm golden.

I liked to think that I'm cool with shutting up and just observing others. Apparently, others will take you for a retard if you just stare idly at their faces when they're trying to make a point. Now, there's not much I can do to fix that shit. Unless I take some charisma class or something. There is such class, right? Pfffft.

That aside, I have absolutely no idea where on earth would I be in a year's time. Some, many others. They have a plan, to be somewhere doing something. They work hard to fulfill that plan, they have that one thing going for them. A drive to motivate them to wake their lazy ass up in the morning.

I don't. I have not the slightest of ideas of where to begin. or continue. It's like I'm just hanging here, waiting for the executioner to finish his job. I mean, I don't even have this one thing to go for. So, why do I even wake up in the morning for? 'cause I'm hungry?

And that's just naming a few. Trying to get some sympathy from people, or attention. I can't differentiate now. Maybe a little of both. Pathetic? Why not.

Surprise.

2012-01-27T23:32:00.001+08:00

There's always one. Be it pleasant or sour, it will be there, waiting to jump at you when you least expect it.

For most parts, I'm mostly just another victim of the prowling and pouncing.

Still not feeling it, the used to be gnawing desire. A sign of what? ill-fate perhaps.

Ephemeral.

2012-01-26T00:36:00.001+08:00

I think I'm in love with you.

Now, please go away.

New.

2012-01-23T01:46:00.000+08:00

It's not a new start of life, nothing extra special about this spread of new cheese. It's just on the same old bread. But you could call it that - a beginning, of sorts.

Everyday spent garnering the attention and affirmation of others are soul exhausting, but we still do it.

Just that some old habits die hard. like really harddd.

Kek.

2012-01-21T00:05:00.001+08:00

There were hopes and dreams, then there were crushed lemon juices.

From the start.

2012-01-13T14:06:00.002+08:00

I just know it would be somewhere here that I would take on a hobby or something. Like stamp-collecting, or writing a diary, and gardening. It just feels like the right thing to do, at this age. To really take something up and stick with it, don't really seemed my style though.

No, but it does seem to be the rational thing to do now. Now that I've so much time that I've no idea where to spend them. That or, I start working. A terrifying thought, to wander out there finally. After so long of being coup up in my own vault. Something inevitable? I'm willing to prolong it for as long as possible. Probably indefinitely. I cannot fathom how my poor-often-stressed social skills will fare out there. Like so many clinches have said before me, it's an urban jungle out there. I just ain't ready for that shit-taking yet.

So, back to my hobby. Ahh, screw it. Is there any point to said hobbies? Why do people even choose them anyway? Pretentious bastards.

Music.

2012-01-12T10:10:00.000+08:00

Some says it is the food of our soul, it calms us. Agitates us, put us to sleep. So many wonder that music can do, not every possibility explored. Yet, I have no idea how to have some for myself.

Might I ask, how does one have some music?

2012-01-11T11:03:00.000+08:00

Thought I'd write something awesome but instead I'll just post a youtube link, much easier, hassle-free, not any less awesome too.

Lichen.

2012-01-09T13:58:00.001+08:00

I was going to post something momentous, you know, to celebrate this being my first post of the year. It's kinda an annual thing. But what's there to celebrate about? I don't get it myself. Live my life and celebrate what? Life? Sounds redundant. It is, as a matter of fact. What about life isn't? It's the cycle of life that gets us going. For things, at other's throat, etc.

To summarize : This is going to be a __________ year.

Mask.

2011-12-30T11:06:00.000+08:00

Smile, 'cause that's all you can do, to hide away the sorrow.
Of what? Being poor? alone? short? talent-less? So many things to be sad about, why be happy?

Simplicity.

2011-12-28T14:29:00.001+08:00

If only life is a simple, perhaps I wouldn't even have a need for this blogspace. It is the complexity of it that truly have me spinning on my head. So many upturns and downknots, choices and dilemmas that make up what we are, where we go, what do we do. Everything, with consequences, known and unforeseen. A cause for an effect. Karma.

Whatever decision made, you have got to stick to it, no matter what.

If you've decided to learn another language; conjugate to the end.
Maybe you want to pick up the guitar as a hobby; strum away.
Started a pre-university course; don't look back.
Gotten yourself a part time job that involves plenty of talking; fire away.
Fell in loved; go all out.

A couple of my past/present/future endeavors, all hanging there, with loose ends and no tying knot in sight. It would seem to me that all I've dabbled in, they never end well. Nothing I do have a positive effect on my life. They just leave a helluva regrets for me to brood on; why did I do this, why didn't I do that etc sort of argument, with myself. It's all in here, in my head.

How long will this go on, will I allow it to go on. Just live life as if nothing matters? Everyone has got their purpose, a personal agenda to set for. Guess I'm not everyone then. All these failures just made all the more motivated to try new things. I know I'm still not yet past the stage of trying new things, yet I fear.

Seems like whining is all that goes on in this pathetic excuse for a blog.

Heart.

2011-12-27T10:24:00.002+08:00

I've learnt that one's heart can't really be trusted. Aside from pumping blood and stuff, it does pretty much nothing but screws you over. It is traitorous, it will betray you at the slightest sign of our fallible nature. It is the sole reason that I'm still all lovey dovey when there's no one for me to be jumping around like jack. They don't call it heartbreak for no reason, it does hurt the most right where it's most vulnerable. It's much better to be heartless than to endure another ordeal of being in denial. But really, is it so easy to just leave your heart?

I know I'm all talk and no go, but somewhere along the lines of grievance, I did tried going, a couple of times; only to be barred from the inconspicuous amount of joy that I was seeking. Nonetheless, I did have the time of my life fantasizing shit that never happens. Sulking in a dark, unlit and windowless room does that to you, surprisingly.

once bitten, twice shy. It's really a good idea to just leave it here, my heart that is.

Last Christmas.

2011-12-26T16:41:00.002+08:00

I gave up my heart. Forgot where I put it, need it back real quick. Else where all this blood is gonna go?

Sapling.

2011-12-23T09:29:00.002+08:00

Perhaps an overreaction, or an understatement but I'm pretty dumb to notice that there are greater forces at work most of the time. So why is this time any different? Maybe I'm just a sucker for such things, be it great or small. Trivialities.

Maturity. Does not comes with aging, as a matter of fact, god knows what does it comes with. Pretty much all the shit in life? I just know I'm not there yet, to handle such mature tasks. Not up to par, to the standard, si?

The probability that the sapling has sprouted without me knowing is pretty big; but the fact or fiction that it sprouted at all is all but my mind's imagination. Perhaps it had not and I'm merely making things up as I go. I know, whatever crap I typed might be a hard pill to swallow, or maybe you don't even want to look at the pill at all. It's perfectly understandable, all this shit is pretty much incoherent babbling unless you're me.

And you're not me, so don't try to know me before I know me, savvy? Let's take things one step at a time.

I've heard rumors, but not cold hard facts. Everything in me wanted to believe, I just couldn't. Not another time. This passive aggression things isn't working too well for me now, I barely remember the thing I wanted to say. Something to do with marshmallow, I think.

A sproutling, eh? Daresay I know thee well enough?

Not really, need to do much work.

Green Eyes.

2011-12-19T19:56:00.001+08:00

Post examinations, reality strikes, really hard. It takes a swipe from the right of my face to the left, then again, from the left. Repeatedly. Leaving being bruises, blue black marks. So, am I awakened yet?

I don't really know what to do from this point on. I'm a free man and it baffles me. I can do everything and I would do nothing. Does it make any sense at all?

I pick up my guitar, strums halfheartedly, promptly drops it. Hardly motivated to learn a song or two. Back then, I used to just pick a song simply just to avoid picking a book. Now, it's just....meh.

I don't even have the inclination to step out of the house anymore, I'm more zombie than cow nowadays. Really need to find a viable way out of this. Trying, but not succeeding very much.

I've lost it. Now, I've nothing stopping me from doing what I've wanted to. Yet, I don't know what to do, or maybe, I've forgotten what it was that I wanted most.

Oh, and I've always wondered how green would look on you (me really).

A change of scenery.

2011-12-19T19:24:00.001+08:00

Just found out you can actually change colors and stuff. No really. Just wanted to spice things for a bit. Guess life is too mundane at the moment. Change is good right? Need to learn how to actually embrace it though, still struggling. A bit. A lot. Plenty of struggling going on right now. Not quite as adaptive as I'd learn myself to be.

Decembre.

2011-12-18T19:29:00.000+08:00

Time, does not really fly. It just goes by too swiftly for us to take notice but we do take notice. Only when it's too late. Most of the time. Some people do notice it early, they are the lucky ones. Unlike them, the majority tends to just let time pass by. It doesn't matter how much time or how you let it pass, what really matters is when's your wake up call gonna be? 10 years, 20 years? We actually invented a name for it - Mid-life crisis. Not that I'm concerned about that now, just thought I should give myself the heads up. Time, once noticed poised a significant role in our lives. We live it now, without a care about it being used up, because we have unlimited time, or so we liked to think. Once we realized that it is not the commodity that we once took it for, we will start to avoid wasting it. We will began to regret all the times in the past that we've wasted it. We will look back and wished that we've used it productively, instead of idling, loitering and wasting away. That in itself, in the core of it, is a waste of precious time as well. Thinking about the past tend to be a favorite pastime of all mankind. You might do it more or you might do it less, but you do it nonetheless. I think that each and everyone of us are hardwired to do just what we weren't supposed to do - to waste time. In our own way, we'll find an outlet to do just this, it might be insignificant - a trickle now. It would accumulate and escalate into something worthwhile of your time, in the distant or near future. That would depend on whether you enjoy throwing time away or not. There's actually another word for such situation - procrastination. It's funny that we've invented so many words, phrases and terms to describe the wastage of time. We took the time to actually come together and discuss whether this particular word would sufficiently tell others that we're wasting time. Pretty contradicting? That's the human contradiction right there, we're all flawed and faulted at some point in some areas. We tend to conjure more flawed plans to right these organic defects, it's become so much of a practice that we've forgotten how to just live with them. All so confusing eh? I'm flabbergasted as well.

Umm, just ignore the last paragraph.

I'm just really thrilled that STPM has ended. Yeah, a good way to employ one and a half years of my life. Definitely not a waste of time(?).

fin.

2011-12-15T23:29:00.002+08:00

This was coming, for a long time. Long overdue post. Somehow, all the anticipation building towards this date is just a lot more than what I bargained for in reality. It doesn't feels as well as I imagined it to be, alas still it feels good, in a way. No matter, it is an ending, of sorts.

title.

2011-12-13T10:23:00.002+08:00

Could just spend weeks trying to figure out a suitable title. Always wanted to write something real bad, but couldn't get my titles straight, Innumerable times I given up just because of one stupid title. Why does it matter though?

Could it be some hidden message written into the title? Or maybe I just wanna appear cooler than I actually am, in real life? For the life of me, I can't figure this shit out. It had me stopped dead in my tracks, unable to move on. Much as I hate to admit, moving on doesn't seem as easy as it did in damned movies. In actually blood and flesh life, you get stuck to the same cycle, every once and then.

Could I be saved perhaps? from this recycling process, I could. but then I'll have to grow up, which is incidentally hard, because there's no goddamn surefire way to growing up. You either do or you don't. There's hardly a foolproof guide to helping helpless like myself to step out of helpless and into the 'helpful' category.

Oh yeah, exams later. Just in case I forget, I'm already feeling like they've ended already, which is why I've yet to take up a single bloody book since maths. Jolly.

insomnia.

2011-12-09T22:56:00.002+08:00

Everyone's got opinions, everyone likes telling everyone what they think. That's a given, in any social setting. People likes to be right about almost anything. I know I do. Don't you?

but lately, it seems I don't have any voicing out that needs doning, it really is getting quieter around here these days. Especially lonely around the festives, *wink wink*

Sometimes -Oh who am I kidding, most of the time, I'm just a tight-lipped bitch, who thinks too much, speaks out too little. A friend once told me, I speak very little and the rest I post it on facebook. I'm finding that statement very true and accurate but I can't decide whether to embrace this revelation or fucking forget about it. It's pretty shocking to have such delicate parts of you revealed, I'm still shaking in fear. Or cardiac shock, I couldn't decide which is more damning.

I can sleep just fine, thank you.

Fearless.

2011-12-07T23:25:00.004+08:00

Quite apt to call me that, even after that little maths fiasco yesterday. Fear is good, when you no longer have the tendency to be afraid of something, a small bit of you dies away. Innocence lost. It used to be how you were afraid of the dark when you're small and teeny, but as you grow up, you know that there's no monster hiding under bed/closet/wardrobe/dark/etc. Your fear of all things unreflecting began to dissipate, much like everything else from your childhood. There are no monsters.

Right? No monsters.

Maths got me brooding, maybe I just ain't built for this. Time to find out what other offers life has for me? I daren't, for now. I'm wanting and willing to stay where I am, just for a little while longer. Til kingdom comes.

Back to the topic of fear, I still fear loads of stuff. Like the paper 2 tomorrow. HaHa.

I don't know where or whence, but the fear of failing has been cured/banished from me, altogether. For now.

2011-12-03T22:20:00.002+08:00

I see blank, I type blank.

Can't write shit for shit's worth nowadays.

Cascade.

2011-11-30T21:13:00.002+08:00

Everything's falling down, whether into place or not, still remains to be seen. I'm just glad things are going the way they should, everything's moving along, smoothly. Like flowing water, bringing with them the stifling currents of time. Moving forward, never wavering.

Been trying hard to do last minute revision and shit. Mostly not succeeding, evidently, since I'm here again, blogging stuff that no one really cares about. I wonder what really bothers me, the fact that I'm so calmed throughout this whole exam or that I've lost all will (perhaps) to catch on to anything that might help me to scrape through. Tough luck, huh?

Anything goes, I can only feel glad that I'm already halfway done, for better or worst. It will end.

Blabbing incoherence cause I can. And sick, again. Exams don't agree well with me, at the rate I'm falling sick, I might really die before it all ends. Stressed or bad living habit? (Don't) judge me.

It won't be long before soon.

2011-11-27T21:24:00.002+08:00

Quite a cheesy title, but really the best I could come up with, for now.

I don't know whether I have given up hope or what on whatever's going to come up. I just know I'm totally deprived of any will to go against the state of current affairs.

Soon, yet again.

Looms.

2011-11-20T17:01:00.002+08:00

Wonders what did I ever do to have it all come down to this.

Mrrmmmghhl.

2011-11-19T14:51:00.002+08:00

Skyrim, COD3, Arkham City...

November isn't kindly towards people taking on major examinations.

Argghhh, tempatations.

sick.

2011-11-15T23:02:00.000+08:00

now. Why now, of all times? Fuck you, whoever's up there.

nulla e reale.

2011-11-14T23:09:00.002+08:00

An eye's blink away, yet seem faraway. Too far to even feel surreal, nothing is real. Unwilling or unable? Everyone is able, need to be resolute, aim for a goal. Mayhap just being pathetic again, trying to lie myself out of studies. I'm just too superficial.

anxiety.

2011-11-13T22:37:00.002+08:00

stressed. But apparently not nearly enough for me to still have the inclination to login to blogger and type stuff. It's bad, for sometime. Then again, I act like it's nothing the other times. Indifference, hardly affecting me, on the surface. Deep down, I shaking jitters. Too cramped up, I don't know where to begin doing revisions. I end up doing nothing at all, for most part. I'm just that bad at handling situations like this. This is really bad, not knowing what tomorrow might bring, besides more studying of which I won't be doing. I just suck.

Seven? 7.

What else?

2011-11-06T16:23:00.002+08:00

The final stretch of dry sandy desert. To the end, is the proverbial oasis, or paradise.

And to your left, is a friend called procrastination.

To your right, is a friend called desolation.

Hmm, choices.

Drop.

2011-11-05T19:17:00.002+08:00

Tad bit late to be blogging about the end of things. Another graduation, another unfeeling one. This ceremony used to have a spot in my heart, I thought it would mean something. Maybe light up something inside me, like a flick of switch and I would come out different, changed. Turns out, just another morning wasted, sitting there, listening to another horrible rendition of auld lang syne. Seven years, gone. No more, cutting classes going to have fun outside, somewhere; no more after school tea; no more sleeping through classes, waking up no less refreshed.

I know I'm talking shit, but it's just human nature to talk shit. I just talk more often than most.

I thought I would at least shed a tear or two, seven years of memories. I can barely remember half the things I did here. Much less cry about them. All in all, I can just say that I'm glad this is finally coming to an end. It's a much needed closure for me. Form six did not treat me well. I learnt too little, much too late. Finally, it's gonna end. For better or worse, just fucking goodbye.

The only thing I got out that amusing yet mildly interesting speech was how cool it would be to stutter and stammer and yet deliver an astounding speech that can captivates your audience, to a certain degree. I don't talk well, for shit's worth.

Twenty.

2011-11-01T21:24:00.002+08:00

I will look back to this post, a month or so later, and laugh. At my sheer stupidity, of not realizing how important this particular test is for my future etc.

Ha Ha

One.

2011-10-17T20:10:00.002+08:00

In all your wildest fantasies, which you'll never get to telling anybody. But I'd assume that somewhere in there, is a male/female celebrity or two, just pure coincidentally, it'd be hard not to, you know fantasize. In a wild but appropriate manner.

Hardly.

I have these words in me, stuck. Just there, at my fingertips, yet unable to let it all out. Perhaps I'm wary, cautions or just merely afraid. But for now, I have these words.

"He was single-minded. He was enchanted. He was possessed. He was in love."

I'm gonna drink myself senseless after this shitty exam, for good or for bad.

I want

2011-10-16T15:34:00.003+08:00

to be in the know. There's still this gnawing need, to find out. An insatiable thirst, to have the knowledge. Yet, being unable to makes me so powerless.

Are you okay?

A question I longed to ask, not because I'm inept but rather I can't. Not without incurring a sense of wrath from above the skies that I'm on the wrong side of right.

-nothing.

whispers.

2011-10-12T21:48:00.004+08:00

vespers.

There are many types of whisperers in the world, there's the ghost one, the palm tree dude, and even animals liaison has began popping out of nowhere. What I truly need the most now is simply that, a little whisper, here and then, now and there. Though it might not really help my case, it will always be comforting to know, someone is really out there, to lend a shoulder, if need be. Or even money, should the situation really arises, but then it will be harder to stay in touch when money's involved. It's just nice to know there is someone to rant my bitching to, no matter how irrelevant all the shit I come up with has to do with anyone, at all.

These problems don't come everyday, I should be thankful to be hampered by them. It's a trial I have to face, to grow, to learn, to gain experience. To not fall, the next time, should it come.

Trials and tribulations. Fire and hell.

flustered.

2011-10-11T21:48:00.002+08:00

blusters, blisters.

today is just hectic, the ambiguity of today's event baffles me. The day went by fine as sunshine, evading shit and rainfall. The night, not so much, feels so pent up and stuffed. Nothing seems to be going my way, not a better transition than last night in any form. Perhaps it's worse than bad tonight, I don't want to know anymore. I've found within myself, a voice which argues with myself. Psychotic? A little. You can't be too oblivious to yourself, you belong to yourself after all. It's only fair that only you and you should tell yourself what to do. Or maybe that's the rebellious adolescence in me, still fighting to live on. It seems futile to keep trying to keep busy, even though I know it's not my door you'll be knocking on. Fuck, it's even useless to keep standing on edge, wanting to, never having the courage, just standing there. Like an ominous figure, looming over something.

Tell me, what am I gonna do?

tower。

2011-10-10T22:22:00.002+08:00

no matter how delicately I put each piece atop each other, making sure each and every single dimension of each block is the same, the slightest margin of error thrown away, if possible. Block by block, I build my castle, here and now. My fort of solitude, of loneliness, of steadfastness. I tried to make this land thrive, without any distractions. Just being within my walled up space, building my tower.

just as easily as being there, you toppled it.

Friends, Lovers, or Nothing.

2011-10-06T23:41:00.001+08:00

So, it's gonna be nothing after all. It's so hard to keep pretending after all this time. I'm just no good at this. Hopeful and glad that this will really be it - nothing.

It hurts.

2011-09-28T23:26:00.004+08:00

Not hardly enough, it would seems. Since I keep going back for more, it doesn't have an impact on me as much as I'd like. Perhaps six feet off the ground ain't really that much of a big deal. Bruised and hurt, I still go back to the same starting point, ready to go through it all, again and again.

A monotonous repeating cycle, of which I'm inexplicably stuck in, just keep on spinning with its rotating torque going stronger than ever, and it never-ending. Maybe I've developed a taste for the self-pity thing. I wouldn't know.

I don't know a rat's ass about myself, that'd tells you a lot about me. Not a rat's ass.

I've likened this to falling, or even drowning. This is actually something much much worse, because if you really do drown, it's an one-off deal. You just die and go to hell. You don't get hurt, again.

The irony in this is I've grown to become someone who enjoys hurting himself. A little tadbit, but still, pain makes me feel alive. More awake than ever when I am falling. I drift along the sandy beach, trying for a bearing, none feels right, I pressed on, unsure of where is my destination or how to get there.

Hurt, that leaves no mark, of which there is no cure. I'm definitely fucked, and this close to the end too.

Fuck.

Te amo como un rie.

2011-09-19T19:39:00.003+08:00

With all my heart and soul, what's left of me is all yours for the taking, but will there be a happy ending to this story?

No matter what I do now, you are not mine and I am not yours. Though I can honestly say, I loved you.

illusions, made up?

2011-09-18T21:33:00.002+08:00

I'd admit, this time, I've really bended the rules quite a bit. Perhaps it underwent a little plastic deformation and thus stayed malformed, so I apologize. I never wanted things to be like they are now, I tried to run. To escape in the face of great agony, is no cowardly act, tis but human instinct to not want to feel pain, to be free from any sort of soul gutting.

I could've handled things way better than I had, but I did not. Why is that? The same old question kept coming back, again and again. Still, I remained silent, unable to give a satisfactory answer to sate myself. Then, now everything is pretty much fucked.

What can I do, now, if not then?

Implicit.

2011-09-14T21:57:00.002+08:00

Sometimes, you would feel like nobody understands. You feel so alone in this world, lonesome because none of them gets it. You're on your own. It's you against the world. Nobody to count on, to rely on, to fall back to. You're there, standing proud, fighting to the last by yourself.

but that don't have to be the case, I can be the one for you. I would be there for you whenever you need me. I've tried to be, and finding out that I'm neither capable nor suitable, I wanted out. Turns out, you don't just say out to this business.

Then, I became the one all alone.

y.

2011-09-14T01:04:00.002+08:00

could have, would have, if.

All true words of a coward. The frequency of my usage of such words is increasing alarmingly. I guess that says a lot about me. Always looking behind, wishing everything was done differently in retrospect. Oh, how things would turn out now?

That's why, no one have the slightest at what the future will bring, looking forward to it? Can I not be? Even if I do not what such a future. what I can but accept? It's never a choice. To fight against the currents of time? Folly.

Just let it wash over you, follow through, to the end of the end.

River.

2011-09-04T21:22:00.005+08:00

Sitting by the bank of a shallow stream, flowing down a low hill, setting by a couple of rocks and a little sunbeam shooting down upon the translucent waters, reflecting upwards is the most beautiful of colors one can only begin to imagine. A cozy breeze every now and then, sways the trees with a rhythmic pattern that oddly resembles beats in a percussionist's repertoire. The amalgamation of these elements bringing together the bending of light, and somewhere, unseen the soft yet soothing chirping of birds, insects alike. The sky, answering nature's call perhaps, became the final missing piece in the masterpiece of true beauty, serving as the azure backdrop.

All is well.

Te amo como un rio.

Quagmire.

2011-08-22T22:30:00.002+08:00

Am I walking towards one, blindly as I am?

or have I already stumbled upon one, knee deep in shit?

The question.

Oh, how I like q&a sessions. All the nosy people just keeps shooting their flailing hands up, asking nonsensical stuff which is actually unrelated to whatever is presented in front.

Sometimes, I just like to post things like this particular one.

Total incoherent bullshit all the way, even I lack the ability to grasp what I'm trying to convey here. That's like on a totally different level of geek.

Everything is just like how my brain works, scattered like sand.

Oh, how I wish I could change things. For better or worse? I don't care, I just wish for more time. I don't mind if I've never knew but to never fall? I could not fathom how less emo I would be if I had not taken that fateful stroll one day, and just simply - fell.

As hard as it hit me, it is the aftermath that hurts most. The groggy feeling of having not being able to feel your entire being, smells like mutiny. Your limbs have started to show signs of being fed up of the abuse you've inflicted upon them.

It hurts, so much this time. It's a first that ranting doesn't help, it's a process. Need to find a better outlet? Someone? Anyone?

A little update on current life. Trials in two weeks.

Oh, jolly good life. This calls for an emoticon!

:)

Flatuant.

2011-08-19T22:58:00.002+08:00

Been a while, and while I haven't been away, I just can't find the energy needed for such random rants anymore. Lately, I feel - for the lack of a better word, cluttered. So many things happening at once, stuff I have been putting under the table, mostly neglect and some regret, starts popping up at the most inconvenient time. Jumps at me, like a prowling jaguar or something.

And I always stand unprepared, get pounced and minced like a fool.

Bloodied, and splattered with mud, dirt and every disgusting thing you could think of, I still stood there, like a fool.

Luck.

2011-08-10T21:04:00.002+08:00

其实，毕生能相遇，已是一种缘。
亲人，朋友，这全都是偶然吗？
Coincidences? There can only be so many of them and not all of it good.
能同座吃个饭，谈何容易啊。

错过的，就无法挽回。
去尝试，抓紧或是死缠烂打？
一个不小心，摔烂这花瓶。
那就真的是彻底的败。
Living with stolen time does have it's share of up's and down's.

得小心翼翼呀，可却是无奈的。
对人，对事，终得有个交代。
Probably.

I think.

苦甜。

2011-08-07T01:09:00.004+08:00

勉强的，得到是值得吗？
已拥有的，抱得实在吗？

孤独的，难道生命就没意义吗？

富裕的，快乐吗？
贫穷的，难过吗？

这条人生大道上，眼前掠过的，多不胜数。
我们能真正握在手里的，会是全部吗？

这社会的观念，会超越我们的道德底线吗？
背着宿命，忘了的何止是我的姓啊。

心跳，停了不知是生命还是哀伤呢。
血流，干下来的还是血吗？

旋转的木马，终点在哪儿啊？
岁月流失的童年，能寻回吗？

苦的，就不甜吗？
甜的，就不苦吗？

Contra.

2011-07-28T23:42:00.002+08:00

Dark as night, smooth as marble.

The end of something usually signifies the beginning of something else. It's mostly a continuous process, the end of the beginning or the beginning of the end. Oddly, neither heads nor tails can be made, but it is often observed that a change of sorts is sure to follow through.

Change.
What is it, truly? It's so hard to detect change in oneself. It's almost not there, invisible. Til you see the change, til it's all too late. Someone once said, be the change you wish to see in the world. Of course, it sounds very mystique and wise-like, but how? Do we change ourselves or others? Where do we begin, isn't there like a manual or something?

Turns out, change is more like someone's perspective of you. What you do, how you act, your behavior in everyday life. Even, sometimes, during certain events, where you get to show your skills and talents. Let yourself shine.

To change, first, we must have an audience. The jeering ones or the clapping ones? Even those high on coke will have to do. Without which, nothing could happen.

Oblique。

2011-07-24T23:37:00.002+08:00

像等你现形，却不知你已攉离而去。
不知不觉地走入了这无人境。

无人性，无人证。。。

清醒总是需要渾忘一些，
开解与宽恕。

隔着空气，贪一刻的温馨。
偷偷地回首，从前的那味儿。

真想不到我当初是如何，
今天竟却越来越记褂。

无分弱强，没胜负可分。
如何杀入战场？

谁又明白这现象？
沾湿的眼角，是吗？

La Da Da.

2011-07-24T10:55:00.000+08:00

Why blog at all?

Sorry.

2011-07-22T23:40:00.003+08:00

Once upon a time ago, I've said things to you and to myself. The words I've blurted out, from sheer stupidity and pure irrationality, I remember them as clearly as the moon tonight, and perhaps even clearer, more pristine and opaque. And no less rounder, even farther somehow.

Once, there was this little boy who wanted to believe. Who would've given it all up for a chance at salvation, at renewed life. Long story made short, that boy didn't make the cut. He wanders still, lost in this highway of life.

Once a lifetime ago, I dreamed of new beginnings, new direction - just better pastures, elsewhere. Remained stuck here, I did. Neither going forward nor backwards, just stalling here, alone.

Once, I've told myself to stop and just let everything go. To see the world as it is, to not get tangled in man's affairs. Now, I've rolled even deeper into that mud hole which I swore to never see again forever.

Once upon a time ago, I would've given it all to you. Now, I can only throw it all away, in hopes that you might never know. So that I can preserve whatever pride I have left. For what it's worth.

I blame everyone else but you for I cannot bring myself to hate you. There's still this fine line that I would never cross. I was made to love but never loved. The irony of this is sickening.

I apologize for being shitty about my feelings.

Oblivion please take me.

Hurt.

2011-07-22T18:31:00.000+08:00

Like when you cut yourself with a sheet of paper.

Just x10000 more painful.

想不想也日夜懷念.

2011-07-18T20:33:00.000+08:00

明明無餘地再過問.

但如果　但如果...

Desolation

2011-07-15T19:39:00.004+08:00

The one time you think you can finally get the much anticipated release that you've been looking forward to for so long. Then it comes biting at you, in your arse, the soft spot of it.

It's always pity. This and that. Life. Mostly regrets.

but if you take a closer look back, those mistakes you made. You have made them not in contempt nor out of irrationale, but you made them because you made your call. Be it wrong or right, it is your choice. And that, is what truly matters.

Your mistakes don't define you, in fact, they shape you into what you are now. They are the mold that gives rise to your person, as a whole. It is from mistakes that we learn, through the hard way. It's never easy making the wrong choice, taking a left when it should've been a right. There's only so many right choices in the crossroads and the chances of sailing through all of them is slimmer than that slimfit advert girl, that you've been eyeing for quite some time now.

When bombarded with life's choices, the only thing you can do - take it and hope for the best. Learning to give some things up is only one of life's many lessons. You can't have everything in life, so why not just be happy and enjoy what you have in your possession?

This too, is easier said than done. It is in our nature to be greedy bastards, we're never fulfilled. That's also the root of all conflict, it's never about the money, despite whatever bullcrap they have seen fit to tell you. Us. That's the problem.

We see, we want, we get, we want more. The cycle continues, in a perpetual way that in no way it is seemingly going to end. That's just the way it is. It's always the wise man's word to teach us to let go of things in life. One more bitchy rant about them wise man, they only know how to tell you what to do, but never the method of achieving what needs doing. They just keep telling shit to your face that you need to stop this and start that.

So what if you don't know what to do? Then you probably should just jump off a sea cliff and drown.

Happy(?)

2011-07-13T23:49:00.000+08:00

Expectations, to be only bring about more disappointments, to come.

Falling Skies.

2011-07-10T13:56:00.003+08:00

You wake up, struggling to get your clamped shut eyelids to open. Rubbing them in the most ungentle way that you're sure that you screwed your cornea the wrong way down. Blinking your tired eyes, everything was blurry, you try to get your head straight and everything else to stop spinning. Eventually, you settle on the ugly little red clock that your friend has gotten you last Christmas. Who was it? Was it even your friend that has given you this hideous little thing? And you wonder was it your birthday present or something else entirely. Does it even matter? Nothing makes much sense this morning.

It never does, not in the morning anyways. It should improve in the afternoon, or so I had hoped.

Dragging myself out of bed, I pulled myself to the bathroom. Grudgingly, I splash the cold water on my face, trying to grasp the wakeness and awareness that still eludes me. Lifting my head up, I look into the broken mirror that for some reason, remained broken for as long as I can remember. The jagged shards protruding out of once smooth surface showed me a reflection. An image of what I truly was. Everything was in pieces, my friends, my work, my family, my life. The damage was extensive, it's like web starting from the middle, branching out, cracking here and there. Staring back at me, was a pale reflection of myself.

So very discolored, it's like looking at death. What have you done thus far? Is this really how you want it to be, until it all ends? I shook my head and continue barraging myself with water, hoping to get sense of clearness among all the fogginess. The sound of the tap water flowing, constantly jerking at the periodical motion of the water pump, stopped me. I listened, carefully. To the rhythm, the beat, the repeating 'swoosh' sound at the exact same second. Oddly, I've found myself some peace and serenity in my madness. From a water tap, no less.

Still dissatisfied though feeling a little less empty, I began to finish up on the rest of my morning ritual. Today, I will be better, I tell myself as I fit myself into clothes that are too big for my size. I will ask that pretty girl out, I will ask for a pay rise. I will make it all right, today.

I will have to buy a new mirror.

Touched.

2011-07-04T18:07:00.002+08:00

I definitely am. Really touched, thought that I'd mention it in a post.

not that its likely you're gonna have the chance to read or anything.

Touching much? Heh.

Religion.

2011-06-30T23:03:00.002+08:00

Words are coming back. I am doing a victory dance now, in my room, with my dog.

I have tried taking that road, down the journey of life. Landing my sore foot on the smooth masonic tiles, looking forward towards what appears to be a better road. I tried, hence I failed. If I succeeded then I would say I succeeded or something similar. There's no use pretending.

Quite some time ago, I deluded myself into thinking that I have to pretend in order to be accepted. To blend, to make myself a part of something much much bigger. I succeeded there, delusions make such great companions, before they stab you in the back, that is, repeatedly with a dirk or some sharp shit. Then, for a period of time, I lived as a pretender of sorts. Hidden behind even more layers of masks, I tried navigating through the strange tides. People were all smiles and teeths everywhere. I know them not, I wanted to though, I'd admit. There are some pretty pretty ladies in the fray.

Wanted, hence I did not. Something held me back, deep inside me. My traitorous heart.

Lost, I was. I am, because I am still not found. Those were the days, when I thought all I needed was a prayer. I hope to go back to those innocent days where I foolishly felt that I was only one 'amen' away from everything I could every wanted, wished, desired. It was in my foolishness that I discovered I'm ill-suited for all this. I could not pretend, not in front of all these nice people.

Lies and not lies covered upon excuses based on extremely complicated intricacies.

How could I do that to them all? I could not, hence I stopped. Pretending. I returned to the island, of pure solitude and solid ground. Stepping on the dry coarse sand, I felt unsettled but content, fulfilled to be myself, grateful that the lies can finally be put to rest. I went back, to before, to the hard road ahead. It will be tougher but it's a choice I made, so it will be worth more than anything in the world.

The world suddenly seemed bigger.

once more, I tell myself I do not hope that you would read this but who am I kidding? No really, don't read. Yeah, that's the whole point of me posting this up in the first place. To be not read by people. Phew, I'm glad that's cleared up.

darkness.

2011-06-30T22:56:00.002+08:00

Where has the light gone to? From whence it used to come from? Why I do miss it so?

All I have are questions, shitloads of them. Never-ending, ever-coming, always poising a great inevitable obstacle to my daily life. They say as you grow older, these queries get answered, it's almost natural, like how wasps apparently enjoy stinging people to death, for no apparent reason at all. Yeah, you better run to hide while you can cause there will be a wasp somewhere, anywhere.

but, for me. These questions just kept mounting up, none of them ever gets solved. Problematic.

and of course, a wasp is probably hiding inside your closet, or the blanket you hold so dear.

in the beginning.

2011-06-30T22:51:00.002+08:00

There was light? Yeah, I suppose so.

Words don't come now as they used. Guess I'm screwed.

in the end?

2011-06-16T23:14:00.000+08:00

Then you latch onto the very first person who pays you any attention, even if they're not right for you. Because, shit, what if nobody else ever comes along?

Alexithymia.

2011-06-04T20:30:00.001+08:00

seriously.

Reprieve.

2011-05-29T21:50:00.002+08:00

Heaving a sigh, the man sat down on his favorite green armchair, one he almost always sleep on now. His head heavy, filled with thoughts he'd want to leave out. He stares at the candle burning by the window sill, it's flickering light reflected on the window, dancing behind a darkened veil. On the table, a half emptied bottle of whiskey. Why? Why torment me so? What can I do for her? All the wild things ran across his head. Possibilities of the if's and maybe's. Everything was so confusing, nothing seem to coming out right. Taking another slow, long sip from the glass he was holding, the man sees nothing, his eyes were blank. Like that of a mentally unstable person but no, not yet. Alas, he was getting there, pretty soon. Smell it? The alcohol could only numb his senses for so long and so much. When was I when I was needed? Sooner or later, another alternative to provide an out for all this would be much more dangerous and yet effective. Would he go that far? Was there anything he wouldn't do anymore? There was so little he could do for her, so he inflict upon himself, instead. That's doing something right? In this, contemplates the man, there's no right or wrong, there's only the result, the conclusion, the verdict, the outcome of all this. Standing up, staggering for a bit, he went to the table to pour himself another glass of the intoxicating drink. His hands were shaking, trying to steady the bottle, struggling to get the dark brown liquid out. In exasperation, he grab ahold of the bottle with both hands and started gulping it all down, hoping to drown everything. All of it, all the bullshit of life. Tears started flowing as the bottle began to exhaust it's reserves. The man, stifling a tear, went by the window, putting pressure on the table as support. He stares ahead into the candlelight as it die, a whiff of white smoke and eventually, nothing. The room, dark and yet the man could still see, by the dim moonlight pouring in through the four panel windows. He groped his way to the drawers, trying to remember where might he have put it. Like at the end of a treasure hunt, he look onto the object that was which he was searching for, a .45mm handgun. Weighing the firearm down, the man slumps back into the green armchair, thinking about his next move. So many nights, he'd cried out inside his heart to just end it. So many nights, he slept in that chair, delaying his sentence for another day, another week, another month. No more. No longer have I the need to suffer. With that, he points the barrel at his head.

and pulls the trigger.

Dissension(s).

2011-05-24T21:31:00.002+08:00

Too many of them.

Everyday, within myself.

They struggle, endless.

Too hard on me.

Everyday, without pause.

They strive, victorious. (soon)

ramifications.

2011-05-21T12:14:00.001+08:00

aplenty.

My foolish actions beget serious repercussions.

Before, I thought I could cover it up.

After, I know I could not, but did more than I would like to.

It ain't nothing you would do.

comeback.

2011-05-06T21:17:00.002+08:00

It has been quite awhile, hasn't it? I have finally ran out of stuff to write.

As if.

There's so much to say, so much I wanted to say. Yet, I remained silent, out of the circumstances forced upon me. All due to the fucking laws of nature, like how rain must go downward, towards the earth? Yeah, fuck that rule. Gravity too.

Letting everything go would be blissful. Heck, it would be like being high while not on alcohol or any of that hippie shit. A release, without a limit, just poof.

But I can't, incapable of one such easy act. One which even a small little child could accomplish, without breaking a sweat.

I held on, to what end?

Bidding my time, waiting for wilted flowers to bloom again, someday.

浇花。

2011-04-26T20:19:00.002+08:00

太多水，花会死。
太少水，花会谢。

水不多不少，花会又死又谢。

2011-04-25T17:50:00.001+08:00

deductive geometry.

2011-04-23T15:54:00.002+08:00

is more like art than maths.

but that isn't the main point, it's just written to pique your interest.

Had an awesome, great, scarred, shaken, tasty, frightened, aeroplaned, confused, awashed, beaten, cold, smooth, comedic horror, rainy, sweet, sleepy, gloomy, bumpy, happy, sick, tiring, ceiling hugging productive, comforting, scared, steady, relieved day.

some day, eh?

The main point here being, can anyone really feel all that emotion and not explode? Hmm.

2011-04-23T15:51:00.000+08:00

what now.

2011-04-22T15:53:00.002+08:00

another time, another place, another one.

it's almost as if an invisible hand holding my head down, pressuring me to bow.

once, twice, still acceptable. But you know, they say third time's a charm.

thinking about it, I feel as weightless as a man going to the gallows, hanging there, lifelessly.

fault, yes. I can be faulted but these things occur, all base on random chance.

And fat luck.

wrath of the wronged, unbearable, in the face of unworthy kindness, how will I bear it? with what ability of mine that I call myself capable of taking such burdens?

doubts and uncertainty always dogged my steps.

Equilibria.

2011-04-19T20:17:00.002+08:00

can't seem to get the word outta my head, a little too much listening in class perhaps. I don't even know the meaning of this word. The concept of chemistry, as a whole, completely eludes me. I know I'm definitely not alone in this, but does this count as something to be proud of? I think not.

I wonder what makes me don't study. That's right, not studying is actually an action now.

I guess the narcissist in me does that, I believe myself perfectly capable of studying at the very last minute. This theory has served me well the last few years, not so much recently. The more I try it, the more it fails me. Ah, failure has never tasted better, or bitter.

yet, the harder I try to get out of this mindset, the more it clings onto me, like a parasite, feeding upon my ego, growing into unimaginable proportions. Everyone else seems to be busy with their life, I shy to talk to them, though I would very much like them to give me help and support.

Perhaps it's my inflated ego balloon; or it just might be that I am afraid of ridicule and humiliation.

Haven't blogged for some days, really do miss the feeling of actually posting up something. I'm not sure that I can quit this anymore, I feel more and more like an addict each day.

My mind wanders, alittle too much, alittle too far,
but my heart stays with you, always forever and ever.

a small piece of my deadened heart,
yours for the keeping.

Friendship.

2011-04-19T20:01:00.002+08:00

the most valuable thing in life? I wonder..

Fort.

2011-04-19T19:56:00.002+08:00

My heart is like one, with high walls and elite sentries.
High end surveillance stuff.
Barbed wires and landmines.
A long river filled with gators.

to keep them out.

words.

2011-04-16T15:57:00.002+08:00

somethings are more than words.

yet, for now. Words are all I have, with the illusion of hugs and love.

A feeble attempt at an already failed attempt.
Always, my endeavors bring me nothing but more tears and heartbreak.
As close as you seem to be,
A gap in between guarantees
A dark chasm of unfathomable depth.

I stood alone on the cliff of such a chasm, closing my eyes, I took a step forward.

Emo, I wonder why. Past few days' happenings are by far the most spirit lifting thing that has happened in a long long time. I still feel alone, perhaps we're all meant to be alone.

To live and die, as you came and went.

feelings.

2011-04-15T23:18:00.002+08:00

don't really know whence or where to start,

just feeling jumbled up stuff now,

don't really know how to express,

just trying really hard to tell someone,

through this little space of solitude.

truth.

2011-04-10T23:42:00.002+08:00

there has been a little to what i've been saying all along, i'd admit that much. a little of truth, much covered in webs of lies and conceit. cobwebs. at that too.

i hope that to the eyes of the casual reader, all that they can see - a narcissist, a pessimist, a coward, a loser (sore one), and of course sometimes, self-proclaimed suicidal. Perhaps, everyone has gone weary of my endless ranting. Like the babbling of a madman, everyone listened until they finally deem the man to be without his wits about him. Everyone would stop caring, much less hear the cries of the deadening man. Drugged with fear of losing their sanity along with the witless one.

They all flee, to save what's left of their humanity.

away with it, the truth.

There are many things that matter much to me. These things, which others might find heavy and dragging, steadies me for another fight - with the sinister bitch. I have lost much, of these things I speak of but couldn't name. Sometimes, the going of something you're so used to in llife, you find that yourself - numb and empty.

A little cold, tugging at my blanket a little tighter.

I am that.

Once, loneliness gnawed at me. This was a type loneliness that could not be cured by my ties with my family, nor my friendship, the few I had with others. This, the longing for a mate. I'd admit to myself, I'm a naive boy, waiting on the world to change. I kept thinking it would, for the sake of a teary, red-eyed youth clutching his beaten and world-weary heart, that it would, someday. Now, I knew better. But deep down, somewhere, I know still lives that boy. Covered by all the ugliness the world has to offer. He withdrew into this depth, seeking to drown himself out of existence, merely to shield himself from the cruelties and tormenting that would be sure to come at him. Yet, I could scarcely justified my hormones to that of a young boy's desire but I think it need not be explained, for my way with words lent me little help to try and break it down.

Perhaps most folk are just weary of my constant drudgery.

its new and something to talk about if you do it once or twice. but seeing my blog makes me wonder, what I 've been doing at all. I havent the slightest of idea.

I write this thus long, just so you would not read all of it, but skim it through and deem yourself to have a thorough understanding of me. So when we meet again, we might have a laugh or two out of my sometimes sarcastic and cynical humor.

I try sometimes, very hard.

I had thought myself to know love of another being. One of other blood.
I proved myself wrong. I find it difficult to put trust and faith in another.
Betrayal? but can it be called that if you've never believe before?
perhaps it is but a similar feeling. it does hurt the same.
if not much more than what I'm used to.
I play it off with jokes and insults of my own.
feeble ones, with hopes of shrugging off questions.
queries, I know the answers, to be ones that I wished to talk about.
just spill everything out, with words, through mouth.
not like my blogging, where feelings expressed are taken through a different channel.
the truth, i'm both free and guarded here.
I wished to be able to freely talk about everything.
I'm given the illusion that it is that, the blogging.
then
I kept off writing the whole truth, always laying off some vital things.
such as, names and places, I do recall.
events, notable ones even, someone's birthday.
things I deem significant.
everything
I just could not bring myself to take everything to that level
of exposure,
I still have not the courage nor face to do it.
it is but a parade of manipulation
of wanting to want the love of others
but what I have gotten, just a pale imitation of love
pity.
a little here, a little there.
I pity myself, mostly. then there's always someone out there, making you feel even smaller than you already are.
I seek what could not be mine
I destroy what little was mine
I live, clinging to what was mine
at i thought to be.

perhaps I've said too much. let yourself drown in this wall. of despair.

-the enclosing darkness, groping after me. Every fiber in my body fought, to no avail.
I lay down, to be eaten away by the devouring void. It crept slowly, knowing it has no resistance from me any longer, victory in sight. Almost, I could see a sinister smile forming upon the shapeless evil, surrounding me. Trying to take away my mind. It reached out, fangs barred, claws outstretched, it jumped. And touched nothing, I was already gone."

radiant light.

2011-04-06T18:52:00.002+08:00

I don't see it.

nope, not now, likely not ever.

the tunnel, pulsing with almost evil darkness - stretches on indefinitely. There's no telling whence will I emerge from within it's shadowy intricacies, I don't see the light at the end of it.

without the righteous beacon to guide myself, I grope blindly to find my way. But which way? Am I groping towards the fabled light or further into the silent dark? There's no way to find out. I can only hope for the better outcome. And even that I have not the slightest idea of figuring out.

Enough toying with words. Many of which I can barely and scarcely understand myself.

yet, I can't seem to find the right words to tell this tale of mine.

How should I put this?

Perhaps next time. Or I mean next post.

vacant.

2011-04-03T20:31:00.003+08:00

been away for the weekend, really do missed writing stuff here.

in people, I never seem to find the comfort and solace afforded for me.

in books and writings, I get the weird feeling that I'm fulfilled. Almost like a Krispy Kreme donut doubled up.

somewhat similiar, just with more sugar and win.

I supposed people have failed me and I they.

Who knows?

2011-04-03T20:30:00.000+08:00

expectations.

2011-03-30T22:46:00.002+08:00

since when do I meet them?

I really hate rushing work last minute, but it turns out I always end up doing what I hate.

It actually matters little how one expects oneself to not meet one's expectations. In truth, all we're ever doing daily is fulfilling others' expectations for us, vying hard for a teensy bit of acknowledgement from the people, you know in your heart who don't give a damn about you.

It's the bullshit called life.

just depends on how deep you tread into it.

DEEP SHI- !

sandman.

2011-03-25T21:55:00.002+08:00

been playing my guitar, excessively. Too often for comfort I would say, and I can still barely play the few chords I know. Zero to no musical talent, I have.

No one could really have everything they want in life. Oh, but they'll wished for it. And spend the rest of their lives trying to attain all that was made remotely possible with the help of narcotics.

Happiness.

Is it a lie? If it is, why? How are we brought up being told a lie which we took for the truth of the world? Does that word even exist? Outside of the dictionary, I mean. I've yet to experience the joy of being happy, for extended period of time.

Perhaps, it does not meant to last. A fleeting thing, like a meteor.

wishing upon an extinguished wishing star.

runaway.

2011-03-24T21:18:00.004+08:00

The Corrs.

not much of an artistic person, never could find the right thing for me to just let it rip.

still looking, I suppose, neither am I anywhere near poetic, nor sophisticated nay classy.

your average joe, looking out the fogged glass window; wanting to break the damned pane into shards of immiscible proportions, yet afraid of the bleeding that comes after.

so, here I stand, unable to make a stand.

there is a lot on my mind, but there is no one I could talk to, or rather, I daren't talk to others about my feelings. Though writing them out like this is perfectly fine, I don't know, maybe all I want is just some attention.

can I ever tell you how do I feel? If only time could rewind, and playback against the tedious flow of life. Probably, I would have done what I can't do now. I don't know why am I still doing this. Most likely that's because I'm still an insecure person living in a cold & cruel world, where harsh reality strikes all too often.

After all that bullshit, it all comes down to ballsy-ness. I just lack courage. The bravery to do what I think right, sometimes, to just charge into the midst of danger. The exhilarating feel of risking everything, the joy of finally achieving what we vie for. I just couldn't get past myself, more than once had I told myself to just do it.

many more times, I have completely and utterly failed myself. Never once did I carry out my promise. Empty words are all I ever have for myself. I just don't know anymore.

just let me wallow in self-pity a little more, drowning might seem a better alternative though.

the precious commodity of time has out, the veil thickens, we grow farther and farther away as each single monotonous day go by. My life is but of black and white without your smile, laughter and...

my blog is definitely getting boring-er.

problem.

2011-03-24T00:10:00.003+08:00

heavy thoughts, sleep ain't coming.

doesn't seem to be anytime soon, insomnia really?

I don't seem the type to be awake, pondering on stuff. Do I?

but, what can we really say for others? what's on the inside rarely shows outside.

all the grief, hurt and tears, it just makes me suicidal.

haha, maybe just another cup

need sleep
zzz

recap.

2011-03-21T23:14:00.002+08:00

did nothing this whole day. Not maths, chem, physics - none of the shit done.

not my first time, but it definitely staggers me to know that I can't keep one simple promise to myself. The vow to very least do a bit of light reading every night, among many of my broken promises. Won't be the first time - both me breaking promises and doing nothing.

just doesn't feel like it, not tonight. Just sitting here, lazing, I'm contended. For now.

perhaps tomorrow, running out of them? perhaps.

so,

2011-03-20T23:58:00.001+08:00

it begins.

2011-03-20T22:32:00.000+08:00

possibilites.

2011-03-20T18:25:00.002+08:00

what can, might, should be - all these variables running frantically inside my head.

Jumping around in fantasy land never gets old.

I get all jizzed up by heavily distorted power chords, a sucker for noise, I likey.

I know I have a point to make in this post, just that I don't know how to actually express it.
Words and paragraphs have come this far to fail me.

I've failed myself.

maybe I should stop writing, what do you think?

Oh and-

ever felt sorrow in a way that it's like phlegm, stuck at your throat, irritating you? I do, and frequently gets weird mouth odor.
it tastes like chicken.

or pasta.

joust.

2011-03-20T01:04:00.002+08:00

never really know what does this particular word mean, most likely wouldn't for quite a long time.

Perhaps someone would take the bother to enlighten me.

I think it has something to do with spears or lance, and maybe even a horse. Can't really be sure without confirmation from verified sources. If they ever come.

if you do follow my blog, which I have noticed none does, you'll find that I have began to post with increasing frequency. Alarmingly so. I think my reluctance to be anywhere near my homework has something to do with it.

It's twisted logic, but still rational to a certain stretched extend.

and maybe, I think deep down inside, I still think that maybe if I'd just keep writing. Someone, eventually will finally appreciate my stuff. You know, stuff like the one I'm writing now.

but that will remain as one of the many of life's letdowns aimed at me. There will be plenty more thunder and storm to come.

je nen pas ren ton amour?

2011-03-19T16:04:00.002+08:00

don't even know whether I got it correct or not.

My french has gotten mushy, oui?

non, it turned shitty, beaucoup shatty.

I don't even know the language anymore.

Really shitty, like as in shitty shitty.

I'd really wished for another you. If only the real you isn't as unique as your voice makes it sound like, nonetheless, I'll keep wishing, for things to come. Sweetest sound I've ever heard in my short petty existence. Like the fucking soundtrack backing The Dark Knight, just, everything fits. Hans Zimmerrrr

All the pieces falling where they should, as they should.

And me, standing afar, atop a tower with no stairs, just a stained-glass window, looking out, longing for where the pieces are. Bleeding knuckles just made the window more so colorful. Red splatters, everything goes black.

That's how I always envision death should be, and maybe it will be.

The clouds move with wind, so free and boundless. A joyride atop the highest peak of heavens.
Never stopping, never pausing, never relenting. Always drifting, without aim, yet full of purpose that comes from being at the top. looking down at us, ants.

On the second note to self, never start things you can never finish. Leaving yourself hanging on a cliff might appeals to movie fans going for the next action flick, but when you are really dangling from the edge, holding onto nothing but a shrub or some shit. Death will have the last laugh.

There's no mattress down there waiting.

Falling slowly, into the swallowing abyss of eternal darkness. A spiral into never ending madness.
Insanity, I really think all of us have it. We are all out of minds at one point or another in our lives, doing things that even ourselves deem inappropriate in other times. We are all insane, just that our ability to hide it within us, proves that we are rational and easily hurt. Some more so that others.

How I wish everyone around is just as nuts as I am acting to be not, deep down we are all living in fantasies of our own making. What won't anyone give to just drown in that make-believe world of fireworks and happiness. The bliss of being in charge, oh the joy of living the dream.

Just that our choice of whether to dabble deeper into that depth. Too deep and past the point of no return, all you get is a cell in an asylum. Too shallow and you'll never feel satisfied in your life, no matter what you do, ever. Thus, we must tread carefully in these tricky and treacherous waters, in fear of being taken by Davey Jones.

mad as hatter, oh how I wished.

nightfall.

2011-03-19T00:48:00.002+08:00

it's way past midnight. Booming my speakers, can't sleep.

Afraid that if I open my eyes, I be closer to the day I need go back to school.

Childish I know, but hey, everyone's got some kind of fear over something.

The phobic fear of holidays ending, much much too early.

the midnight bells strike, one step closer to doom's calling - a much more literal approach to what I said. well, more like a I-feel-important-typing-shit-I-think-cool approach. It's my blog.

Getting overly defensive, I think. blogging is all about expressing yourself but maybe - just maybe. There might be a slight possibility that I went a little overboard. I don't know, slight as in 95-99%?

Probably, can't really say for sure.

This might be another surfacing problem with me as well. Probably was in me for a pretty long time, the fear of having to commit to something. I'd assume everyone has it, just that some more severe than others. Mine would rated on the scale of being moderate to fucked up.

I guess.

See what I mean?

I think so.

Gahhhh

cocoa cappucino.

2011-03-18T16:53:00.002+08:00

just sittin' here, chillin' - them haters, hatin'

might be a little too chilly for my taste though. clattering teeth seems more like the case here.

My first time drinking frapp at a coffee joint - I'd never seem to find the time, the right cup of coffee, the money, the person to drink with, the shop with the right ambience, or even a damn laptop to go with the drinking process.

I always laughed quietly at others taking their laptops to coffe joints. Sitting there for hours, just surfing net, drinking coffe. It seems such a hassle, bulky little thing to just bring everywhere with you. And all you get is a crappy wifi connection where everyone seems to be downloading some shit or another.

well, I have noticed that it's not for the free connection.
It's the ambience and the chatting that attracts people there. Well, for my first time, it seems enjoyable enough. Too darn cold's just my complaint.

I'm bringing a jacket next time, if there's a next time. A red jacket.
Java chips vs title above.

Win-ed!

ITS TNT

2011-03-16T01:45:00.001+08:00

drinkin is good, definitely.

heartfelt thanks.

2011-03-15T00:44:00.002+08:00

goes out to a dear friend, who showed concern and support when none even bothered turning their heads. I can't blame no one but myself, I don't really want many knowing.
I would start labeling myself as some sort of tragic hero, that would be pathetic.

Words can't begin to describe my gratitude but I'll try.

It really cheers me up to know that there is really someone there to back me up when times get hard. Not trying to sound pretentious, but such a friend is hard to find. and pretty darn precious.

when it really comes down to expressing sincere feelings, I really do suck. I just hope I get the message across - me giving thanks. that's the general idea anyway.

it's kinda awkward for me and I know especially for you. Yet, turned up you did. Know that those few exchanges of words gave me the much needed strength and support to manage. Yupp

I don't really show these feelings on the outside. so here I am, writing 'em out.

pretty suck for a social animal huh? yupp

thank japan for inventing pokemon too, seriously. Hats off, clothes and all too.

once again,
thank you, friend.

and plenty of pent-up emotions for a day of trauma and mishaps, I think I'll go cry myself to sleep for a bit.

dreaming with a broken heart.

2011-03-13T22:48:00.002+08:00

waking up, is hard.

but, perhaps inevitable.

I wouldn't know whether this dream was good or bad, there's no way to tell.

I should just get up, roll off my bed.

hitting the floor ought to knock some senses into me.

all at once, the flashes flood my soul.

my reasons, selfish they be - still remain why I am me.

maybe my dreams will finally come into some sort of shape

so that I can actually carry out my duty,

of realizing them.

1+1=?

2011-03-09T20:19:00.002+08:00

running out of any idea for titles. A little suggestion would come in handy.

acting indifferent is one of my many specialty.
The reason I act as such is because I care too much, for reasons I know not, I dare not show even a tiny little ounce of these feelings. For fear I might lose them, I surmise.

So, I still go about being me, strutting about, nothing particular on my mind.

That's the cool thing about guys. We can go about 15 minutes just staring into thin air, absolutely nothing goes through the processing and wires of our brains. It's one of my favorite pastime, wicked thin air.

yet, often. I find my thoughts resurfacing, against my own wishes. perhaps age does play a factor but I don't quite seem to be able to tune things out like I could. It was blissful to hear nothing but pure ecstatic static buzzing, ringing, echoing in my ears.

I would put the blame on distractions. and raging hormones.

still, it would be nice to be able to show sincere concern when one wishes to.
I've kept in my shell for far too long, it's nigh impossible for me to let anyone in now. Even if I do wish for the embrace of such caring and tender hands. I can't open myself to others, no matter how hard I might try.

To put trust in others, to let them know your desires, your secrets, your joy, your shame, your fears.

I can say I don't have one such individual to confide such matters in.

Suffice to say, I have bloody failed as a human being.

so how leh?

reciprocal.

2011-03-06T15:35:00.002+08:00

title's actually a little relevant this time.

a reciprocal is basically the something turned upside down.

if you didn't know, it's maths. And while talking about maths - fuck maths.

again.

Disappointments and regrets rule my world, they don't seem to want to stop knocking at my door.

I really wished there is some sort real world-pseudo reciprocal machine thing.

Then I can reciprocalize my life.

ah damn, it isn't even a bloody word.