I don't think the human mind can comprehend the past and the future. They are both just illusions that can manipulate you into thinking there's some kind of change.

Bob Dylan

I miss you heaps...

Youth makes you invincible.
Work separates you from life.
Suspicions eat you whole.
The future tears you apart.
Loneliness fades you away.

I've been bangin' out the crazies from the ballooning nazi ideas I've been having. All stuck in my head. All dressed in a black sartorial eeriness. Have I been a goon for fighting off the inherent soul-flier who's patiently waiting? And waiting for what? For paltry moments of intimacy? To feed on plastic sugar words? What the fuck am I doing? I'm getting shitloads of morbid days and I'm not feeling any better with these meagre touches of consolation. I need winning ones.

God tell me what I'm doing...

There, stranger. You gave me hope. That little light of almost satisfaction that grants me my dignity. It is during the fall of man made things that causes the man of things to fall that perhaps the only thing to feed on is encouragement. It is now that there are opened doors to let in the flood of dreams. The future to be modified. The past to be unclenched from. The present to be redeemed. But redemption works only with the swallowing of that huge pill called pride. And I'm working on it, while still allowing my dreams to brew.

Rationale:

1) Derivation, Source
2) Explanation: Why?
3) Abilities
4) Characteristics: Exemplifies what?
5) That is why...

FOR GOOD COPY:

ATTENTION
INTEREST
DESIRE
ACTION

FEATURE
FUNCTION
BENEFIT


o Research (Understanding) {Grasp the Essence, Get the Feel}

o Clarify (Understand more)

o Study brief

o Look through helpful materials (eg., dictionary, thesaurus, archive magazines and websites)

o Read client’s website – Understand tone


For taglines:

o USE ACTIVE OVER PASSIVE WORDS (ACTION WORDS)

o Punctuations

o Short and sharp

o Easy to read and understand

o Question to evoke curiosity

o Sentence

o Story

o Rhyme

Well I have launched into this solo embarkation I've been clamouring about wanting. And it's been three days fine (well two only since the day has barely begun), since I've trodden my feet and keyboard hands into two EPL mad bosses' offspring of 11 years. The atmosphere is spring, for now I guess. And the giant swamp has not kicked in yet. It's a the beginning of the day and although it does not carry the kind of air I've always expected, I'm carrying a smile from the release I have from the drudgery of AE-ness. I'm mode-ing into comfortable. Not as much as me in my own family's, but the gentleness of the assimilation is very welcoming. The closing walls I sat within, which honestly frightened me, has me enjoying the sudden wealth of space I have now. No breaths blowing down the nape of my neck. No too-close-for-comfort-cos-it's-family-till-hell-breaks-out kind of feeling. And there are no pests I have to speak on the phone to. Most importantly, I'm doing what I love. Yeah it ain't the same as the jingle-jangle of strings and spouting loud, shivering, ecstatic tunes, but who says I'm not in the liberty to musicalise my words? Poetry speaks here, I would like to convince myself. But well, I am in the clouds now cos I love my job!

"Dense intelligence is made into a cockade."

I woke up this morning with this phrase staring blindingly at me in the face.

And so my world became.
From the time
Came the descent of perfection
That caused the cost of my smiles
The wretched days of cold
And the malice of shell emptiness visualed off.
She came upon the soft winds
That petaled through my path
While I jumped at the questions of wonder.
Her kindly eyes and prettiness
Her quiet little voice that swayed in me
With every wave and harmony.
And now in its fourteenth wave
I still bear a light for her.
One of purity, gentleness and love.

I am suddenly surrounded by myself. Actually, just the thickness of a crawling quiet digests into the room and floods in heavy lethargy.

Mistakes

To my Dearest Dad:
A man built in strength
Yet feathered in gentleness
With greatness and power
And kindness and mercy
But wholly made with one main thing
And that's the love
That you have shown
Not many I admit
Will gain to experience

Yet I have stuffed
Not deliberately
Your thoughtfulness and kind affection
Your words of wisdom
Garnered from the first day of your life
Which I have still the need
To learn with a humble heart
It's not with malice
Nor with dread
That I grate your words
While you speak them to me

I am sorry dearest Dad
I am but still a man
Made perfectly imperfect
So here I am
On bended knee
With a soul sincere with love
I apologise to you
For my mistakes as a son
I'll try my best to be the best
And not be hurtful again

It’s lovely crazy,
Scarily pleasant
How smooth and yet contrived
To spoil ourselves in a moment
Of sweetness in labour
And coolness so manifest
Thick in between
That your beauty smiles upon
The rosy darkness I cannot fathom
Just a word would send the tingles
Mingling with my pure grin
Because I know I might be in
But then again I might not be
So watch my lips as I smile
Right from the moment
I saw the charm in you
While your bigness beguiles me
Time and time again

You know what? I'm happy. But heartachingly happy. I would always wear your cross near to where my heart is for as long as I possibly will. You wouldn't understand my tears. I cried happy. And I cried sad. Thank you for making my life sweet again. I guess it's enough for me because I finally can smile a genuine smile again. It has been quite awhile. Thank you.

My past is remnant. It is merely but a vestigial presence in my thoughts...

One month's given you the obesity of time
To gather up yourself
And start rolling again
Walking on, withdrawing as quick
As the footsteps of a frightened colt

Your Best Summer, My Worst Winter

Passings are the death of the warm summer breezes
They die and die wilting upon the white breath cold
Dwindling, twisting in a paining surge
Silent, obedient - obedience: unchosen
Because it is what it is

But the farce! The mockery!
My monkey sins they been driven into the ground
Have I paid in full ever yet?
How much more am I in debt?
In hatred?
In love?
And I thought I paid them all back
With your big summer day,
The day I wrote out in tunes of magic for my Magic
The magic that was you,
And the best summer's day, you stole out of the skin of my hands
Tuneless now, blank now, heartachingly white

Voices of silence cover my music thoughts
The blowing of the cold winds impended
And picture perfect you ease through my taut mind
Always escalating me to another heartache, another cliff's edge

Days droop into balls of ravelled delusions
Tighter, tighter
And tighter yet
Till the frowns of my brows darken
Sharpen and cut like my heart's blizzardy poison

You smile and leap and your brown hair sways
And I try to find a gladness in me
A shiny spot of crazy sunshine
Because I love you

I have had my worst winter
Have you had your better summer yet?

In my mellow hollow shell, there remains the blackness of shadows of memories grappling themselves to be set free from the menacles my liquid thoughts refuse to unshackle. I'm wafting sighs to heaven, holding in the hardships of a broken heart, refusing to cry. The tears fall anyway, not from my eyes, but they hang each drop from the very nerves that once held the intensity of love and now has been transformed into a limitless thought thinking, self indulging, deprecating joke that I'm wholly infused with. I'm desiccated.

The saddest day of my life is everyday without you and knowing that you are happy with us being sudden strangers again...

265 sweet days of knowing that your brown moon eyes shone for me was the heavenliest feeling I could have felt...

Once more upon a time. The wonder of all wonders. The pain of all pains. A tiny flower wilts. And the tempest sweeps it away. Once more upon a time. The juggernaut crushes. The swell rises. The hauntings inundate. And my mind augments a decline. Once more upon a time. A hole gaped. And I got swallowed up whole. Into the darkness. Into the void.

thoughts of you

i remember showering you with kisses
and how you loved basking in them

i remember holding your hands
feeling the warmth and tenderness of them

i remember the hugs
how good and comforting you felt

i remember your words
and how i treasured every lovely compliment you gave me

i remember the laughters
the silly things we did together

i remember your angel face
your smile, your eyes, your lips

i remember making up after the fights
they were the most tender moments

i remember your sweetness
the letters you wrote with unrestrained love words

i remember looking into your eyes
seeing only me in them

i remember the days that belonged to us
nothing could ever disturb our time together

i remember the nights that belonged to us
touching you and feeling that everything is right

i remember how you blushed when you read my poems
they were written exclusively for you

i remember the little hearts you gave me
they still sit in the throne of my heart

i remember our walks
i treasured every second every step of the way

i remember my birthday
i felt like the most special person in the world

i remember how inspired i was by you
you were the muse to my music

i remember the very first kiss
i was on top of the world

i remember you darling
and how perfect you always are to me

I remember my mistakes
and i vow never to repeat them again

i remember not to harp on things
because i learn that our love will make us better people

i remember loving you
and how i'm loving you more each day

and i remember how you love me
nobody else makes me feel more special than you make me feel

i love you...

Hanging in the ocean deep
Slicing the water's edge
Recalling the last real smile
Recalling the teary shed
A flogging gust of wind
The stripping rays of sun
The cracking whip of words
They flay my hided pride
This very familiar sight
Or sound, or taste, or touch
I'm wretchedly exposed
Again, again and again
Scrounging my last few senses
Beating my soul to sleep
I close my eyes to death
And feel it once again

In all the places and all the times that I've been trying to work my life into the purity of a cacoon, I was never once in a sweet state.

This is for my sweetie... Happy 21st sweetheart...

On this day a fresh breath drew

On this day a fresh breath drew,
While she took her leave from the heavens
And floated down to grace the world.
A brand new smile swelled in her eyes
As her starry lips freshly lit the earth’s domain.

She was born of song;
A piece of music breathed by the seraphs
Upon her face,
Like a soft petal of thought
That smoothed the vast beauty of an ancient sunset
Which, before the very void of my eyes,
A dream became displayed
And filled them with the gentle charm
From which she used to make my heart.
My heart, so brimmed with love for her;
With adoration, with desire for her.
And because she shines like no other,
That I love her more and more each day.
And even if there never was a reason for me,
I’ll still love her even more.

On this day the colours were made;
Created from her pink cheeks and chuckled laughs,
While the lips of the winds kissed her face
And brushed the colours across the lands.

She looked up with dusk in her eyes,
Sparkling and brightening the evening of the day.
And with this, my heart has found songs to sing;
Waves of words telling tales
Of a beauty, impeccable.

Her sweetness runs by the gallons
Through the brooks and brooks,
And streams and streams,
And the rivers from where my heart begins to beat for her.

On this day a fresh breath drew
And a miracle was born.

Hahaha... This is just for you my friend.

Reason why I've not been news-ing this page:

1. I don't wanna bore the hell out of people with the routine mechanics of my life.

2. My mind has recently been deemed spotless to write anything.

3. I've been bogged by the humpings of assignments on my brain.

4. I have not been online for long for a long time.

I am looking forward to seeing you soon dear friend! Come knocking on my door anytime!

I have finally found someone who SINCERELY appreciates me for who I am. I am utterly grateful for that. No more empty words without actions. No more being made use of. I am happy!!!

This is what I have concluded:

Anger is a defence mechanism. Because of lack of understanding and love, people get angry. Because of unfulfilled expectations, people get angry. We hold others to some standard that we have somehow fantasized, chosen, and applied to them. They may not even know about these standards, but that does not matter to us.

So often people are angry at us because we have not met their expectations. The expectations may be completely unrealistic, so that we cannot possibly fit their agenda.

Anger is a defense of the ego, defense against fear. Fear of being humiliated or embarrassed, fear of being minimized, of being mocked, fear of loss and of losing face, indeed fear of losing. Fear of not getting your way. We think anger “protects” us against the others, who would do these things to us, who likewise are angry at us.

When a negative emotion is understood, when its roots are illuminated, the energy behind the emotion diminishes and even disappears. When you feel angry, the healthy response is to learn what caused the anger, to rectify the situation if that is possible, and then to let go of the anger.

Understanding and love dissolve anger.

And i know now why there is hatred. And that is because people never put in the effort to try to understand where others are coming from. That is why there is the existence of judgementalism. The fear of the unknown causes hatred and jealousy to breed.

I am happy and at peace with myself.

Right now, I think I know where you concluded your slandering words from. Sigh... don't draw conclusions until you know. Accusations hurt. Accusations are always wrong, bacause you don't know. Research before you say anything else. I don't bear grudges. I really don't.

I have read a friend's blog today which I guess is fingered towards me with what she said: I still speak bad about her. For goodness' sake I have moved on. I have never and still don't bear any grudges against her. She knows me best among everyone else and she believes instead what others tell her. The devils are at work. I believe that the closer you are to God the more the devils will try to make you hate people. Believe in what you know and not what you think you know. I have moved on and long shut my mouth about things with you. Whether you want to believe it or not is up to you. I have long washed my hands. My conscience is clear.

Writing used to be something that I did everyday. I dwelt in it wherever I went. I ate it, I drank it and I even dreamt it. Words were just all over swimming in the trees for me to pick and paper them. I didn't have the need to look for them, because they were just there.

Then it just suddenly dwindled and now my hand feels a tad nervous and vacant. Don't get me wrong, I still am a lover of the word. Guess this is the right time to fill my hands again and start swording my pen.

When my eyes see your fragility bullied, I hurt so much but I can't do anything about it. I've been spending all my time waiting to talk to you. And when I do, I hurt even more because you step away. When will I ever be given the chance?

For every step I take forwards, I get pulled one step back. Never let me lose you, please, for I need you always to be by my side Lord.

Magic is something ordinary, like a child.

Someone told me I looked older. Strange how the things you feel manifests so plainly on your face.

Guess it's about time to throw the past over my shoulders and start making peace with everyone. But isn't that what I've always tried to do? Why am I still so bogged down with invisiblities?

How much of a hypocrite can one get? You called me and confronted me about the things I've said and now you're doing the same thing back to me. I know. Words can fly. My ears have heard the same way yours had. Could it be sweet vengence for you? Or was it merely coincidental that you also did what I have done but only when I did it I was wrong and you were right?

Well I guess the confrontation was meant to make you feel better so you wouldn't have had to feel the guilt. Well I guess it's worked ain't it? Have fun...

My ride is getting more and more bumpy. Hills and rough mountains up ahead. I think I've only conquered small humps, which is only the beginning. My mind seems to tell me, welcome to the real world. The fantasy life in which I have always been living in has been stashed away properly where I won't be accessing for a long time to come.

This is my life:

Way back in the beginning, there were flowers and rainbows galore. I took it for granted because my brain told me that life is such. It was perfect but mundane, floating on 5 erratic oceans. Then I threw it away because I wanted bluer skies and brighter sunshines. And my voracious apppetite for more grew. However, this sun will always be shining, I know.

Then came along a bed I slept in, to cushion the fall in which I chose. And I panicked because I slept for too long and had weird but nice dreams. And when I finally awoke I knew I had killed someone. Two crimes done.

I decided to fly and not jump and fall anymore. I flew without the desire and the lust that once followed me around in shadows. And I began to see sunshine once again. The fight for my flight seemed horribly intense and long. That was my first fight. And it was a real one, just in case you're cynical about it. I was intensely passionate about this fight that I got blinded by the sun. But still I fought on. I don't know why I did. I just did cos my heart told me to. And I got burnt black, then was invited to stop. The story has not ended yet... This is not a crime.

So I stopped and landed to the ground, head on my shoulders. Now it was someone's turn to fly, literally. I fought again, but this time, to pull the flight to the ground. And to the ground it landed while I laid out a path of rose petals for the landing. Too bad the pathway had a big gap of nothingness in between. My life took a change back to where I had to be but not belonged anymore. That was the gap. And I tried to fill this gap with more rose petals but the daisies kept getting in the way. And I let them get in the way, which led the path to a dead end. Third crime.

... And the story continues... But I continued nurturing the daisies. Cared for them and loved them. But I knew I could not pick them for they were not mine. I just wanted to care for them and see them beauties blossom in the sun that I shone... And the story continues...

A different scent wafted through the air. It smelt pleasant and sweet. But little did I know that it would sting. I fought for it with words that were requested. But I guess my words were overflowing. This is where the confusion begins. I breathed in too much and now am choking. My fight is still ongoing and it stabs me in my longing beater that maybe this fight is not going to be a victorious one. I cry.

... And the story continues...

My grief rings...
My anguish burns...

This is my life for now among other things that are currently contributing to my heartaches and tears. Guess I have to hold on tight.

It's malice I say. There was no need to ask questions like that. What is the point? I am already down in the dumps enough. Please, no more salts in my wounds anymore.

I couldn't face it. My brain kept replaying the dark images in my mind. My eyes should have opened before anything at all. But I guess it was too late. There was no recollection of a beginning, and the end left trails of blood rushing laughter that faded off into embarrassed screams into the night sky. Smoke out. Wash down. Breathe in. Screams again, then laughter. Never in my dreams would I thought I would feel so horrified. I woke up from a scratch, and turned away, not knowing what to say. Maybe it's cos I feel someone missing. Someone who made a deep print in my life. My mind's scared and scarred now.

I am happy I have cleared the animosity between me and a friend.

I know of myself and aware of what I do.

And a friend will not say never
Cos the welcome will not end...

Well.. I thought I was always welcome.... I've knocked on your door for too many times for help but I've always gotten a rejection.. thanks anyway.

It's time to decide.
It's time to be serious.
It's time to think.
It's time to know.
It's time to grow.

I cannot do my work! My eyes are dry and painful. The humming of the bloody machines are irritating me. The internet is a huge distraction. My mind is running like a wild dog, thinking of things I'm not supposed to think. My back hurts. It is getting late. I wanna do my work but I feel paralysed. It is stuffy. I've got not enough material to work on. There's no software I can use that is required for my asignment. I'm hungry again. I'm sleepy. People are talking to me. I can't pull myself out from the computer. I'm going to crash...

I compose and hold my hand
To pull me out of misery.
Misery is a ditch so deep
You'd wish to get back out.
But it takes a little while to see
That holding your hand is not the way.
Cos you'll just be going round and round
The light you'll never see.

It always happens when things go wrong. It gets worse. I was in the midst of a healing process with squeezing tears out of my eyes and attempting to catch some bags of breath. The depth of the darkness caught me at my most vulnerable and got me where I cannot say anything to save myself from what I have done. Good night.

And there they held. All the lying lay crazy and influenced. All the scent of that something foreign. All the smiles after tears. All my mind in wonderland.

I woke up from my dead and found out about the realness of the world. It is cold. It is lonely. And you see through blurry eyes people walking around all in a drunken state asking how do you do, and walk on, and you are left all alone again. When you thought that friends will be there to catch you when you fall, they don't. Because that's just a myth, and at the end of the day you are left all alone.

No one bothers to appreciate me. No one.

And I am abandoned again assumingly without being asked...

I don't read minds...

Is it such a thrill to test the elasticity of my patience?
Are my questions that difficult to answer?

The walk home was scary. Dark luscious clouds rolled in quickly. Lightning struck on one side of the world and the gale was picking up fast. On the other side of the world, the sky was sunsetting red and the contrast with the gloomy green was extraordinarily breathtaking.

I got home before the wonderous storm began. The wind filled in furiously and the rain started. Then the breath of the wind grew stronger and faster and madness started rising up from the darkened chambers of the sky. The storm gave out a loud shout and the hail exploded down to earth.

Trees were torn and roofs got shot into. Cars got their bodies mangled as the pellets of ice continued to fire in different directions. Streets and backyards and gullies started to pile up with balls of ice, tearing anything that got in the way. It was scary. And I thought it was the end of the world, because the storm grew heavier by the minute and everything was a blur.

Then all at once, after 15 minutes or so from vomitting all its guts out, the sky ceased to cough out anymore and it was just rain now. The poor tree outside my room got half it leaves torn out and the neighbour's backyard is filled with white now. Feels like Christmas... heh. Hope it starts to snow down here.

I never fail to disappoint myself.
Smile.

Despite all the pain that has drilled a cavity deep, I still smile and move on. 2 long ones and my mind still hounds back again like how it does every day to that place in time. A haunting ghost grieving. I know that I will never have my ears hear that one word, but then again, having this word lay upon my ears WILL NEVER work out what I have fucked up. Cos that's what I did. I FUCKED UP EVERYTHING. I could have had the willpower to stand away and watch my demons die.

Today I hear that perfection never was once in the skin of my face. But that I knew. Because perfection only resides in one's sighted eyes. Then why for the seduction? Why, since the perfect one sits unknowingly perfect in his throne, doesn't even know that he is waiting, must I be a jest for the game the player plays?

For once in my life I earned it. And then I lost it to someone who sees me as an imperfection.

I lose.

My war was never good to win to begin with.

And I'm just left with dangles of questions of whys...

Let me utter my disappointment to you. Something's leaked and now everyone's drenched in it. I shudder at the thought of how much more anyone can be drenched. That particular hole on your face was meant to shut. Your ears were only meant to hear, and eyes, see. And now you couldn't bear the sweetness of gossip dancing on the tip of your tongue, you had to spill. And spill it was you did, on what was given to you in trust, which, may I remind you, you have totally demolished. Colours ran by you hey? No one else could have seen it hey? But maybe the colours you might have seen was those of yours instead haven't you thought?

God gave me everything. Have I ever felt indebted to him? Point is I always try not to take people for granted by refusing them, but why do I recieve everything from God and not feel obliged?

Where is the effort I want to see that is supposed to come together with the claims I hopefully think are real? I cannot help but am made to feel the reins on my neck to be always directed where to go.

Under Napalm

Falling embers, struck their devils’ tridents
And broke through our fragile abode.
The sky mushed.
The fields drowned and died.
Animalistic screams sucked out from the mouths
Of those who saw hell,
Abundant and falling from the blemished, burnt skin of the black sky.
The worst of storms roared in its fury.

Suffocating pink clouds roped by the winds
Down in spirals through my throat.
And then I felt the first sting,
The searing through my flesh
Scraping down to its rawness.
I coughed out a scream,
In unison with the rest of the burning villagers
And my feet ran.

The shards under my feet sliced through
As I fled and flew and flapped my wings
All bright in blood under the grilling flames.
I waved a thousand hands but none
Saw through all the pandemonium at me.

Choking and gasping and burning and crying.
The fumes removed what air I had in me to breathe,
To keep alive my life, however little there was left.
I felt my skin die. Charred and cracked
As I disintegrated into the ground.
The waves of heat killed my tears
And smarted my eyes and dried them up.
The whimpers I cried croaked from my cooked lips, black,

My spirits withered like the petals of smoke
That licked the earth, descending.
I thought I'd say another time
To my mother, how I loved her.
But my chances were swift now gone forever
As I slowly laid still in a shrivelled coaled up bag of skin.

I've realised that I've so much to learn. I'm so much like an empty canvas, so unfilled so unsatisfied without colour or texture. And here am I with colours all around me like ghosts so full and complete. And I walk through them looking like a slab of stone. While I have the freedom to siphon these experiences just by taking one step forward and abandon the grey clouds behind me, one of them grey clouds anchors me with the pull of laziness.

I fall, I stumble
I create excuses to cover up my acts
What weak soul do I have
Such small tasks I scarce can't accomplish
That big ones await me
I will crush and crumble

But today I will walk away
Which many a time I have accomplished
But to stay away, that will be a feat
For I know what I do wrong
And I pray to God for strength once more
To do what's right

I've decided that this is it. I've dwelled enough and I've gotta walk on. I've written things I'll never send, and bought things that ended up unpurchased for some strange reason. My heart still stings from not looking back anymore, although the temptation of turning back is so strong, I know it will never happen again. Not in this lifetime.

Happiness embraced me in its lengthy arms for that period of time that she filled my mind, and my arms. She's still reciding in the most comfortable corner of my mind. And I'm comfortable with that thought.

It was a real pleasure to know you. Thanks for the memories.

I've always been proud of practicing the things I have been preaching to my friends about what's wrong and what's right, until I found myself in a similar situation and I cannot help but to be utterly disappointed with myself. Many times, I was able to walk away and I've always thought that for my whole life, I've been blessed. Until recently when I guess I took it for granted. That was a grand mistake. There's so many things that I want to undo. Heaven help me. It gets harder and harder each day to fight my demons and to fight people in my life who encourage these demons to surface.

I dunno if there's hope anymore to claim back what I've lost. I'm still praying...

My spirits are down. And I am sure things are bound to dip. But I pray it not happen. For if it does, the sky will darken.

I dunno. I hate it when things turn out this way. A whole world between us. Yet there's no sound from my handphone to assure me that things are fine and dandy. I hate it when things turn out this way.

It just suddenly hit me. After a whole humid day of immersing my face in the green book of compulsory article reading, and finally having completed the harrowing ordeal of 4 weeks of reading that thick Kim Wilkins novel, that I realised, I am all alone. All alone pounding away at my computer. It doesn't sound too good. Laughter and music streak the night with merry making. That's what I hear above me. A received message on my phone about a great night out with some friends. I see pictures of familiar faces smiling in groups and I can't help but to feel that pang of gnawing envy in my guts. No one around to even talk to. No place to go to. Perhaps I'm just a little weary from a whole day's work. Maybe it's just the awful stack of assignments that i've got to plough through. Perhaps that's just stress. It magnifies lonliness i guess. Or any other negative feelings for that matter. My coffee cup's empty now. My work does not seem to diminish. An early class tomorrow. Yet I can't be in the right frame of mind to rest. Burnt out brain.

Dried toads all stiff from the many days after dying in the sun and looking black and dead and smelly from their maggot eaten bellies that grown sucked to the ground you've got to yank it up so that it makes a squelching pop and you see more of them dead amphibian friends streched out in a sun tanning position black too and dried like those little animals you find collected in a box for chinese medical purposes.

Five of them unusual habitants to the back balcony and now left with one, for four died in various positions in the sun that their carcasses hardened and cemented to the ground that they couldn't move but just as well cos they're dead toads.

Dead toads i tell you that left one survivor behind to fend the impending autumn and then winter and then who knows how long more might it fend for there is not to be anymore flies to be as food for its weak and hungry tongue to stretch out its pout to eat and fill its skinny belly which will soon turn for food for maggots if it does not live properly.

Only when the rain comes wetting its soothed skin will it then spin its energy stored during the dry times waiting and stoning and it will leap as high as a form of attempt to escape its hunger but only to find out that it's a cell death waits upon them in patience.

It charges upon the doors with its white belly to escape or as a form of suicide?

Then you get to see its tired breath heaving from its throat inflating and deflating and eyes hopelessly staring into yours like glassy marbles, scared to face hunger and desperate to run and confusion to its whereabouts for it is after all a place unfit and strange for an animal like it to be.

And now it stays alone in the hole in the wall where hopeful drips of dampness will help to keep it sane till the next rain comes and it will try again once more to leap free.

But to where shall it leap for there's not a wall high enough to get over and that's where the confusion takes over from where it came.

So remain it shall in its death cell till the cold and dry rips its life off from its clammy skin and ribbed sides and joins upon his friends all dried up and dead in a sun tanning position, black and stiff and stuck to the floor in a suction from its decaying belly.

FORGIVEN

Into the dimly lighted space
I knelt and prayed for soulful grace
How cold and stark and dark it was
Yet warm I felt the father’s voice

Whence I came a sinner’s hole
I fought my demons manifold
Words I swore and souls I tore
I bore the greatest guilt of all

The words I dread yet ought to say
Swam from my lips with shame
And under my skin my guilt displayed
My soul I wished to tame

Poised with welling beads of tears
The father’s chiding words I feared
Yet gentle was he who said to me,
“My child your sins He has forgiven”

The blackest sin my heart has told
Taken from me and crushed in the cold
And now I walk embraced by God
My heart new once again

Trust has become a word to me now. A loose word that prostitutes people into divulging their deepest secrets. Brothers made out of what you think were strong bonds from the dripping nights of beers and talks of life and Beat and everything else that comes with the word "sex", seem to breathe out darkness into your loved one's ears as a challenge. Why so? Could it be my treasure is so precious that ropes out the beast in my brother? I am sorely disappointed. Enough said. Trust will never be such a common thing for me ever again.. Fuck you asshole! Thanks for trying to fuck up my life. You're a true friend indeed..

Yet again I am pounded by a thousand and one questions, all fists against the bones of my face, about how I am going to resolve this state that I've webbed myself into. Apparently, I was regaled the truth about such strong emotions of love for one whom was supposed to be The One. To wait in vain would be an effort worth the whole while. And now it has died? Just like that with the blink of an eye and a shift to another continent has changed a mind so drastically. And now, the truth surfaces again. I was supposed to be forgotten. I was asked to scoot. Little did I know I walked on with a tiny string hooked behind my back. I'm pulled back in. Truths should always remain unhidden however painful it must be. Now I'm stumbling. Stumbling in 2 different directions.

Being back here is like a beginning of something new. Something different. Yet so remotely familiar. One week. That's all I had. And now I have take my leave and leave everything I had grown so accustomed to behind again. My penance? Pointless now how it seems we chose to give birth to something so difficult to rear. But then again, my absence in her presence might grow fonder for her, and her absence in my presence might just as well. So anyhow, till then when she graces herself and feathers down lightly to my direction I'll be waiting.

Michael Damian - There'll Never Be Another You

I have a life
I live a life
It's more like living day to day just to get by
And it's ok cos i get through
I know there'll never be another you
I got my friends
They're always there
And someone special that i know who really cares
But late some nights
A voice cries through
Reminding me there'll never be another you
I can recall all those winters and falls
Nights of love that i thought would be always with us
Writing our plans on the beach in the sand
But they faded through time in the wind and with you
I think of you from time to time
Sometimes i wonder if i ever cross your mind
But looking back
Is hard to do
Cos it reminds me there wont be another you
If i could hold you again for one night
It would make my whole world come alive again
I will survive
And carry on
Once in a while i hear an all familiar song
It takes me back it makes me blue
Reminding me there'll never be another you
Yes i know there'll never be another you

I have no idea what this is all about no more...

A baby kangaroo. A joey. This time I got in again. Slid under through the shadows without my own knowledge and got in again. Only a fraction of 28 that started back in 29 that I gave in with no ohms. No qualms that I bled myself almost dry into a quandary. Heaven help me.

I have no cares of the offences that get punched into my face anymore for I have dwindled into obliteration, out of sight from the world I had exclusively built once. Hurting remarks of unproven theories cast calluses upon my spirit. "Sliming" is all I do if you will in your eyes. Thanks for so much trust in me.

I've been cordially invited to step out the door and not to come back. But I tried to wedge my foot in the door, only to let it be slammed and crushed. I knocked and rang the bell and I called, but my efforts were all ignored. I have always told you my deepest thoughts and feelings. But that's all I that I could have done. Missing someone who brushes off my words of profession is not really something I can take any longer. Thank you for the times and memories. I have been blessed.

The mere thought.
The dry moods.
My empty hands.
A rich presence of quiet.
Beady tears.
A weak smile.
An even weaker laughter.
Fat jazzy tunes.
Slow nights.
Crawling days.
Hungry.
Mangled beliefs.
Lost.
A ruptured rapture.
Gone.

Never knew I would find myself walking down this street again. Stocks of memories reaching out desperately to grab me. It was literally memory lane. How stubborn time can be. Now with every step of the way, I hop a step further in an effort to expand the space of time within a day, so i can do more things. Meet more people, get more things done, but at the same time, appreciate the smell of the roses.

STRUGGLE FOR LIFE

Brother, it seems, you have been beaten.
As Law decrees and Precept goes -
Your corpse is sniffed round by hyenas
And circled by the hungry crows.

It's not the pack who were the stronger,
Smaller beasts beat you to tatters -
And who fights now over your carcass:
Jackdaw? Jackal? Hardly matters.

Your fist when it was time to use it
Always stopped halfway in the air -
Was it charity? Weakness? May be.
Fear? Pride? Modesty? I don't care.

Or mere disgust, perhaps. So be it.
Good. Amen. I accept the terms.
I prefer that worms should eat me
Rather than I should feed on worms.

- FRIGYES KARINTHY

My new year's resolution:

1) Grow tall.

2) Be as big as Bono.

3) And become a billionaire.

4) With a six pack.



I think number 1 has the best possibility.

My new year's resolution:

1) Write something everyday. Be it on my blog, on a scrap of paper, in a journal, whatever. Just write.

2) Write at least a song every month.

3) Pick up a new activity. Something. Whatever.

4) Stick to it.

5) Get my "lak liap". Remove myself from the world of slops.

6) Do not cut my hair..... =P

Christmas did not come this year again. Nor did new year.

This was supposed to be up long long time ago... very long ago...

I'VE LEFT SOMETHING BEHIND DOOR 22... AND NOW I'VE MISPLACED THE KEY... I'VE BEEN FUMBLING FOR IT... AND STILL AM... MAYBE IT'S STILL BEHIND THE DOOR... MAYBE NOT... MAYBE ITS GROWN MORE IMMACULATE FROM MY ABSENCE AND GONE OUT ANOTHER DOOR... AND THE SONGS WOULD PROBABLY HAVE REMAINED... I'M HERE WITHOUT YOU... THE LAST THAT WOULD KEEP SWEET MEMORIES WAFTING ON THE ARMAGEDDON COMET OF THE RESERVED ROOM OF MY MIND... RESERVED... BUT I GUESS RESERVING'S NO USE 'COS NO ONE'S RESERVED IT... YOU KNOW WHO... =) SENDING A SMILE YOUR WAY

Me. Spendin' some time with myself stored up in this room freezing my ass off in the cold.

Me. With stiff fingers trying to put in sad words of my degenerating self withering like the cracking dried leaves under the soles of my boots.

Me. Hungry for some kind of peace of mind unsound for time unknown, longer than the way my song goes crying.

And the marks of questions that I have been searching for, which I have already answers to, punctuate my head into punctures that leak out till I'm hollow.

Me. It's just me now, with the good company of myself, enjoying all that I have been enjoying for the whole of my life.

Where's you?

And this is a song I wrote last Christmas...

Getting There To Wish You Merry Christmas

This Christmas, I'll pine for you
I'll be waiting
I've got so much to tell you
And I feel I'm just beginning to realize
That the moments we shared
Might not come back
Cos I fear you've gone too long

This Christmas, He'll be the one
I'll still be waiting
To wish you Merry Christmas
But now I'll pray
For strength to carry on
And pray I'll see you soon enough
When I get there



I feel melancholic now.
Tis' the season to be jelly... falalalala lala lala
Don my clothes on my big belly... falalalala lala lala

The pinnacle of the day today was that wonderous comforting and warm embrace I received that removed the load that almost suffocated my heaving chest. Thanks for removing that load...

A sudden peacefulness seeps through my veins and I close my eyes to see a face I so long to touch again. I breathe in and the smell of memories fill my senses. And I smile to myself, often wondering if any of it actually did happen because it was too good to be true.

So where's the song gonna land now? Because it doesn't mean a thing anymore. It's ridiculous. Ludicrous, I say. Meant only to be sung for the moment but the music and words leech on even though you don't want it anymore. It stains and burns.... I can't throw it away....

Slap me in the face
I've just been spurned
And walk upon the cold grey stone I call my grave

I feel like a puppet on a string now, moving where the pupeteer moves me. I can't run cos I'm attached. It pains me just to yank the knots off me...

Thanks for sharing all your precious thoughts
You know I couldn't have done without them
So I say
And thank you for talking to me
You don't know how a little silence could kill

How do I go back
To where the hellos were nice again?

Let me take you down to where it happened
Don't hide away from me
Let me take you down
The ride is breaking
You got to hold on tight

And thanks for being so interested in my life
You know how happy that can make me feel
And thank you for having me
At least I don't feel that invisible

And thanks for being so straight to me
Your consolation breaks me down...

People of the world. Leave yourselves and allow your minds to grow. Your puerile thoughts will only serve to burn you with scorn. Love yourselves by loving the world. Don't just stand there and think the world owes you manifold. Because with that thought rampaging your brains, you'll only live in a bottleneck, restricting you from catching the brightest star there is to find. And that star might just be the star that leads you to Epiphany. Never fill your hearts with hatred or scorn. Live like humans. Live with pride where love conquers all.

Forgive. Hatred and grudge bring stinging words and swearing toungues. Hatred and grudge bear all flaws that do not have a single semblance of immaculacy. Hatred and grudge stunt our growth to be a more God fearing person. Hatred and grudge are the works of a fallen angel fighting a battle against God.

Never let the demons win.

Some people just never know how blatantly shameless their words sound, no matter how dreafully subtle they try to make it sound. But well... I guess that's what some people do to get attention. Sorry mate. Reverse psychology never works on me. Enjoy your day anyway.

Real sweet...

The next moment of silence

The next moment of silence burst
And pumps out the breath of the crickets' cry
It's the sleeping sigh of the warm summer breeze
The crushing hushness stepping upon the night

The next moment of silence spins
Upon the flawless smooth of the monstrous sky
And the wenches and boys throw their presence
Away from the emptiness eating the streets

The next moment of silence jabs
Into the stomach with a stinging ring
That counts the seconds you writhe in pain
You'd wish the gnashing of silence's teeth
Would unfasten from your wriggling wrist

The next moment of silence's sweetness
Rides on the tongue of absence
As the delicious drips of darkness
Paddle away from the stretches of streetlamp rays

The next moment of silence reeks
Of the odour that rots from the hollowness
Of burning skeletons abandoned from the age
Of the mild and meek from whom they were never borne

This is the only way to reach true happiness... Forgiveness...

To forgive and to be forgiven. Difficult but possible. I know it cos I've been there and done that... Was taught to by the Lord above, and his teachings are really true.

Really love this song... Check it out

Heart Of The Matter

I got the call today, I didn't wanna hear
But I knew that it would come
An old true friend of ours was talkin' on the phone
She said you found someone
And I thought of all the bad luck,
And the struggles we went through
And how I lost me and you lost you
What are these voices outside love's open door
Make us throw off our contentment
And beg for something more?

I'm learning to live without you now
But I miss you sometimes
The more I know, the less I understand
All the things I thought I knew, I'm learning again
I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter
But my will gets weak
And my thoughts seem to scatter
But I think it's about forgiveness
Forgiveness
Even if, even if you don't love me anymore

These times are so uncertain
There's a yearning undefined
...People filled with rage
We all need a little tenderness
How can love survive in such a graceless age
The trust and self-assurance that can lead to happiness
They're the very things we kill, I guess
Pride and competition cannot fill these empty arms
And the work I put between us,
Doesn't keep me warm

I'm learning to live without you now
But I miss you, Baby
The more I know, the less I understand
All the things I thought I figured out, I have to learn again
I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter
But everything changes
And my friends seem to scatter
But I think it's about forgiveness
Forgiveness
Even if, even if you don't love me anymore

There are people in your life who've come and gone
They let you down and hurt your pride
Better put it all behind you; life goes on
You keep carrin' that anger, it'll eat you inside

I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter
But my will gets weak
And my thoughts seem to scatter
But I think it's about forgiveness
Forgiveness
Even if, even if you don't love me anymore

I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter
Because the flesh will get weak
And the ashes will scatter
So I'm thinkin' about forgiveness
Forgiveness
Even if, even if you don't love me anymore

- Don Henley

Go be happy... and spread it on...

I've just woken up. My head's spinning from too much sleep. And I know that today is gonna be a really boring day. My mouth tastes of last night's conversation with myself, and I'm weak from the afternoon sun.

Sometimes I think that too much of anything will kill you. But I'm still hungry. Hungry for things to be the way I never really experienced it to be. It was never too much because it never happened.

And now I'm thrown. The little pieces we have picked up along the way seems unknown. And now I'm blown. Cos little by little, I know I'll soon be alone.

I know that look, whenever the smile seeps in. That's what I know because I can see. The little happiness that awakes inside of me, awakes because of you.

There are a million thoughts humping their voices on my brain now.

Here's one of them: FUUUUCK!!!!!

And that's a scream tantamount to the shrieks that come shrilling out of the gates of hell. The screams that tear out my guts and leave my entrails wound round my choking neck. It doesn't spare the choking of my heart either that's bound within the apparent safety clasp of my chest, which unfortunately was torn open again at the seam of my freshly nursed scarred tissue.

And that person in my head howling the swear pounds his punches into his face till it caves in. He bangs the wall against his squelching wet brain that minces onto the floor and he cries. He cries because he will not die. He drives in a knife through his neck into the throat and twists. Gargling blood spews, and he sits to watch himself drown in his own blood, mixed with tears.

He doesn't die...

Thought of the day: Can happiness be fabricated?

I got a bad stomach ache now... I need to pang sai...

I smile. Cos you do. That's what I look forward to everyday. Your smile. It just lifts my spirits knowing you are happy.

I've just killed myself. Exams are full of crap. It's just a regurgitation of what you crammed up in your head for the past 4 months or so. What good does it do anyway? And they always say it's the experience that counts when you go out looking for a job. Hell you can get a degree in Medicine and end up as an insurance salesman. I mean what good is a fucking piece of paper?

I'm going to fail my argumentative essay for Youth Writing. Do all writers need to do this? Argue? Is that all they do? But then again I guess it's good to have an analytical mind to write good stories. I don't argue much. So does that mean I'm not going to make it as a writer? Sigh...

Nostalgia is painful
As it scours through the mind and soul
Rummaging, foraging for a reminiscent piece of the past
Once so good a past
Now elastisizes itself back to the present
A present that in itself might be a good or bad past
Nostalgia is the same flow of blood
Through the stream of rememberance
Every drop has witnessed the past without a moment forgotten
As long as it is in the blood
It matters not what the brain forgets or remembers
Because nostalgia is a feeling
Not a piece of the mind, or rather the brain, that remembers
It's the every drop of blood that flowed from the birth day that counts.

The person who came up with the word "armpit" was probably a really quirky guy. It sounds so crude when you say it. "UMM-PEET". Maybe that's why someone else came along and changed it to "underarms". At least that sounds nicer, although it does nothing to the smell. It smells just the same... sniff sniff...

We, as humans, are a bunch of creatures who are never contented with what we have, always scouring and scarring the faces of people to save ours, and searching for the oasis that is just a mere figment of our imagination. In actual fact, that idealistic shimmery crave that gnaws at our guts, utopia, is right behind us.

It is always difficult to see the good things we have been bestowed upon on this earth. And even more so, a rare sight to be able to see someone stopping to apprecaite and say the 2 simple words "thank you". That, is itself utopia for me.

I want to be a rock star. I want to write more songs.

Everyday I cradle my guitar like there's nothing else in the world to hold on to but to someone who made me pick it up again. Thanks.

i love mornings. especially when the sun still looks sleepy after it has just awoken. 5am and the sun breaks rays upon the weary world all ready for the batterings of human activities. and while i behold the darkness dissolving with my tired eyes, all full from pancakes and wedges and ears tired from all the gossip from 3 girls all excited about past news, i saunter down the wee morning streets back home with all them in my arms =) oh well i wish. ha. sang praise songs till the coming of the first bus back to char's place. penny devoured my bed.

Hi. Elliot is my name. I am a teddy bear. I have got light brown fur and black beads for my eyes. I was picked up at the post office one day by a boy and later was given to a very pretty girl as a gift. I am now a very happy teddy because I have lots of friends: Baba, Momo, Huey and Stewie. We are all very happy because this pretty girl talks to us and treats us very nice. But I think that she treats Baba nicer than the rest of us. We all envy him.

One day Huey and Stewie told me that they are quite tired because they always get flattened whenever the pretty girl sleeps on them. And sometimes she is lazy to bathe and they have to hold their breath because her hair is smelly. But we all love her just the same, and I am glad to be a part of her life. I want to be with her until I grow old.

Today is a very cold day. The rain has been pouring down the whole day. And I am waiting in bed talking to my friends and waiting for the pretty girl to come and talk to us and cuddle us so that we can be warm and sleep well. I think she is watching TV now. There are funny voices that are not hers coming out of the living room. So I guess it's the TV show that she is watching.

Lucky I am a soft toy. I do not go hungry at all. And I cannot move on my own. So I do not need to feed myself. And they say it's easy to get hungry especially when the weather gets cold. I do not wish to be a human. So I think I am a lucky teddy, all happy and furry with lots of friends to play with. =)

Change is a never ceasing disease that causes all of us to run for cover and seek solace in the bosom of our all sturdy and comfortable backyard of our minds. It is a plague that eats us up and we will never grow if we refuse to budge and hang at the edge of the cliff, not having enough faith to let go of it.

I have learnt and my cliff is far away from reach, but still within sight. And what a beautiful spectacle, a memory of what I used to cling on, I behold. None will ever know the true beauty of theirs unless they let go. Sometimes, it is the scenery that everyone wants to look at but are afraid to make the journey and continue clinging on.

Or is it the length of the road that I have taken? And that I have seen all the road signs, which some have yet to see, that has led me to where I am standing now? The piece of land that I stand on looking ahead to where my memory stands.

Take it easy as you walk down the streets of you. Keep walking and enjoy the view as you walk through the garden of your life. Live like you have never heard of tomorrow and you'll see how beautiful everything will be.

Charlene : Petite and feminine

I see her, sweetness before me,
An angel with peppered freckles
Kissed upon her cheery cheeks
Her laughter captures my heart
In adorable gurgles like bubble gum bounces
And like she, too, a cherubim skip
Holds time for a moment
While the vision seeps a smile through me
And I do, like a man who's lost all wariness
And rained down upon by oblivion
She returns my smile back at me
Her fragrance, pleasantly fresh and crisp
Like scented dewdrops hanging from heaven
Once again she looks at me and looks away
Eyes busy with thoughts I never can read
But endearing anyhow
As I adore her charming face

But I do know one thing. I'm in love and that's something that I am thankful to be blessed with. To be able to love is a gift not many people have. And it is very true that love does conquer all. Everyday seems almost perfect and I would kill just to stay this way forever. I do not ask for much.

Just you...

That sour feeling clumps up and creeps into my throat again. I really don't know anymore. I don't know if I have lost myself already or not. I don't know how to walk anymore, cos my legs feel horribly numb and my knees are giving way. In fact, I feel like my whole body's giving way.

Do I really know how it feels now? What is this whole thing all about now? I have put in a fair bit and sometimes just a single word would really make my day. But I'm really eaten up into this that I can't let go. I'll be that one who stands aside to take the blows but still remain standing, undaunted.

I often wonder why it is so easy to take things for granted, and to be taken for granted. I'm still learning to take it easy, but I'm really happy anyway.

And I smile too. For after all that I have put in, aren't I entitled to at least a smile too? I can tell myself to be happy now. Well at least for now. I'm starting to feel more at peace recently. All the mess in me is beginning to alleviate from within, shaping into something more wholesome and sound. And I am thankful for everything that has become what it has become.

I don't really give much of a concern to anything else around me now. For what I have is totally inexplicable and surreal, and I am happy.

It has been one hellava week I must say. Stripclubs and all. Getting eaten up by the sun and all. Saving a life from the undercurrents but to be treated like an aquaintance and not even a word of gratitude in the end.

There's no other happiness greater than being able to make peace with your enemy. And I bridged this animosity. The happiness that I'm bearing is much bigger.

I am a thick skinned person in other people's eyes now. Ah well....that's good anyway... Lonepine...

And now I have got the irritating cornflakes stuck in my teeth... trying to dig them out... if not they will remain there and maybe one day i'll be able to find some treasure in it?? hmmm..... oh well..

Anyway, I've just com back from the land of surfers... way cool... And I saved someone from drowning! The best deed I've ever done in my entire life! Now will that earn me some more brownie points to heaven? I don't wanna go to hell!!! Just hope my dream with Jesus will not come true... Pearly gates here I come!

K bye

I've always tried. And it's not that I ain't got no strength. Hell, there's no shell at all! Its been opened and the only thing left is what's inside. How am I supposed to get something from inside when all I see is already the inside???

It's ok... Like they always say... It is a virtue... Take it in your stride... Yea... And though your eyes tell you... Just hang on and see... And even if you don't see nothing... You know that it was worth the while... It's beating real hard now... Painful... And I see them all laughing... Just smile back up... After all you're just a pawn in their game... Not a big deal... Just smile and take it in your stride... Swallow... See what has gone wrong... And stand up again... Harps are meant for music... Listen to its music and don't ever take it...

Rejoice! For the it is here again... Yippie...

1.40am - Drinking my huge bowl of miso soup after eating a packet of mee goreng
1.26am - Realized that my brain cells are dead
1.25am - Finished the powerpoint presentation which i've been spending the whole day cooped up in my room for
8.07pm - Entered my room and continue on my presentation
7.58pm - Just finished dinner
7.15pm - Sat down with the rest to eat Mark's fried rice
7.05pm - Came out of the lift to the 4th floor to see Mark cooking fried rice
7.05pm - Waited in the lift
7.04pm - Waited for the lift
7.04pm - Came out of my room
7.04pm - Finished changing
7.03pm - Came out of my computer
5.00pm - Received a call from Mark to join him for dinner
1.49pm - Got seated at my computer and started on my presentation
1.45pm - Finished my lunch
1.16pm - Started on my lunch
1.13pm - Came out of the bath
1.09pm - Went into the bath
1.08pm - Stripped naked
1.07pm - Opened a can of stewed beef to cook and eat for lunch
1.06pm - Brushed my teeth
12.42pm - Switched on my computer
12.43pm - Called her
12.41pm - Received a miss call
12.41pm - Finished rolling in bed
12.30pm - Opened my eyes
12.30pm - Woke up
11.45am - Went back to sleep
11.45am - Opened my eyes
11.45am - Woke up
??.??am - Dreaming of her

It's always difficult to see with your eyes if something's hot or cold.

Real smiles come and go like the breath of a warm breeze.
Fake ones stay and linger on like leeches; like a stubborn stench that makes an impression and refuses to leave. And you always wonder why.
My eyes do hear what my ears don't. I pray they were blind enough to make mistakes.
I threw all my defences down. And now in a rueful cringe, I pained myself to build a strong armour.
Gentle now and be careful, for there will always be nails beneath a cotton ball.
You don't hear much anymore into your ears what they once were honeyed with.
Cos I don't much anymore into mine.
So I'll climb and see what happens.
If I see the sunrise I'll be glad.
But I've never asked for the mount to turn rough against me, for I was always planting something beautiful, only to have them yanked away with rolling stones.
But I know that no matter how I climb, a sunrise will still shine on me.
And I thank God for blessing my days and lighting my paths and holding me in his arms to carry me through hard days when I'm almost broken.
Thank you, Lord.

My mood's escalating, but gently.

How do you go about making sure the air is pure enough to breathe? You can't. So I'm breathing in anyway just so that I can stay alive long enough to savour a moment's bliss than not breathe at all and fade away without knowing if it was possible to stay alive. Yet there are choking times, but I fight for breath and I would not regret if I do fade away from being poisoned. At least I've lived.

It is a saturday. And the weather hangs brightly over the blinds of my room. It is a fine day.

FEAST


The bristling darkness rustles in the quiet
And permeates the earth as the groping wind scuds
As the wheels of the universe gyrate
In its own regal splendour
Of mosaic gems that explode in flickering randomness
Of wavering glint eagerly snapping attention out of one another
Killing and resurrecting
Beaming their beacons and running out of time
Hovering above with propelling light
In the midst of the flaming darkness
Each in the horde of its millions
A reliquary poised to pour down its dusty molten
Into the mouth of a skeptic hopeful
Who once just a week ago
Swam through the streets with other existing hopefuls
Rapturous mongrels
Who prowled on their noses
Unwary of a brewing anger prowling beneath their noses
The feeble stench of a waking primate
Ready to make life a galloping dwindle
We’re giving in to the bastards of stealth
No one has ever let in an ear to the name
Where our legs have ever treaded
Now a brand new web is spun
Devouring masses of the open eyed blind
As we see in helpless conservation
When each soul gets pulled down in inundation
The swelling of weepers crying for themselves
While the creepers bed themselves in their tears
Awaiting with vulture brains
For yet another helping to feast on

I wanna give my thanks to your guardian angel.
He who put his wing before you as a shield to protect you from harm.
I wanna give my thanks to your guardian angel.
He who stepped up and pushed you out of harm's way.
I wanna give my thanks to your guardian angel.
He who carried you and ran you to safety.
I wanna give my thanks to your guardian angel.
He who now lays beside you and continues to guard you night and day.

Thank you...

I am F4. Cos I just dyed my hair all black it looks blue. And I've become a member of a taiwanese gay band. That's all I can say.

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful phoenix who crunched up my hand and flew away.
The End

And my eyes have found its way into an enlightenment from a folly.
And I tell myself, fool, I'm counting your days now.
And I let myself trudge on with hooks upon my back, tearing the flesh out throbbing and searing and pulling onto chains the weights of my own stupidity.
And my bones leak and grate.
And how they scream, from the scratching and gnawing of the iron claws.
And now I witness the eyes as they tell on their owner.
How difficult it is as well to pull on his own chains shackled to the legs that refuse to walk a different path.
I submit...

And they say that ignorance is bliss... Hell... What I do not know still breaks me apart...

The days they peel away painfully now. And with each layer, I get a better view of how much of a fool I might be. You know the feeling when you get knotted up in the throat and your stomach churns and everything tastes sour under your tongue and the knots choke you and you got to swallow real hard for it to get cast away. But I'm contented although I know that I'm stolen. If not what do I do? Fade away?

It runs like a rash all over me and stings in its draping shroud like a jellyfish and devour whatever sanity I have left in my reservation. That's the tip I get from the silver platter I serve on. And I feel that maybe the life I'm growing on this earth now is just there for the usage of people scratching my raw flesh out. It's like having my heels scraped off from walking my bare feet on shards for them just so that they may have theirs well covered. And I do this even though it hurts. And I do this because I want to. And I do this because I love...

Something's not right. It seeps into me. And the crunching digs its teeth right in straight to my bones. It does not feel good. Cos I can see. It's all over, written with grim.

Stewed Pig
Stew Pig
Stoopiak
Stewpiak
Stoopig
Stood Pig
Stoopik
Stoopid
Stupid

Run along the sands that dusty now the stretches of beach
Funnel in the saltwater washes as they squash themselves onto the clay pebbled land
Now as the breath of wind pulls under the puffy sky,
White like spotty napkins stained on sperm
The raging splashes shout with hoarseness like clearing throats
Phlegmed up in a flaming cough and back down again swallowed
Yes and the dangle sunny screams light into being
Bronzing up skin slimed and splodgy in bananaed oils
Laying nicely carpeted and scalding in such masochistic vain ways

My Contrition

Allow me to introduce myself
I’ve been away for too long
I don’t know if you would recognize my face anymore

But anyhow here I am again
To shatter down these walls
I've built them through the years

By now I have learnt
How to put the past behind
I've swallowed all the pills
Of my pride and my prejudices

And now that I'm reborn
I'll try to stash the bricks away
I'll never run again

Won't you help me?

So I guess that you should know me by now
I'm pretty sure that you did
Right from the start

But anyhow here I am again
I've stripped down my disguise
For you

Won't you help me

Slowly, the words that have lost their way, hidden in the crevices of grey, are thumping back, returning in small chunks, to the amnesiac brain of mine. But they are now back with stands and legs. Not like the wings that they use to have when they floated around and came and gone as and when they liked. That is the freedom I use to have. They were plucked randomly off they boughs hanging richly before me. But now, they seem ripened and stable. Worthy more of comprehension. Without the freedom of floating and snuggling secretly into sentences to draw them in the mind with no effort.

I'm pulling hairs all over for a story. And slowly and finally, there's something good for me to write. I hope this'll turn out good and well.

Today is a Sunday.
Again.
Uneventful.
Again.
But I am glad that at least I've got something to look forward to for the day.

I was great once in my life. Was an honest screamer, but burnt away all my tears and tore down whatever that came in my way. Cos then it became apparent to me how my life started to evolve and mould itself into something that I didn't ask for. I was something superficial carved out into a vase that maybe I wasn't supposed to admire myself. The hopes that haloed over me were made to stay there for i am and will always be the only guy in the family.

My last days in Singapore have been good to me. I'll fly off with a satisfied heart, because what I have yearned for, I have been given. I didn't ask for much. So that's enough for me. At least now I know how i feel and how she feels. Now I know at least where I stand. Whatever it is, I know we have come to good grounds. Best friends? Well maybe. It probably is the best we remain this way. I wish her well...

I seem to keep having to countdown to a moment of a lifetime my whole life. And for now, my next countdown is towards a certain part of my life where I push myself to a next level of education. But who's to know what i'm gonna do after that? The future seems rather cloudy to me.

It's 2 days after my ORD. No sound whatsoever. Thought I'd make this moment of a lifetime to use a little lunchtime celebration. Well I didn't in the end...

I am going insane with black thoughts stinging my brain.

JUST ONE OF THOSE DAYS WHEN YOU'VE GOT NO PLACE TO GO AND YOU FEEL ALL VOLCANIC INSIDE YOU FEEL THE BUILDING RUSH THE POWER TO PUSH WHATEVER THAT COMES INTO YOUR WAY HELLO! CAN'T YOU TELL MY BODY'S IN A SPELL IT'S GETTING QUIET COS THE WIND'S CHASING ME YOU RISE UP AND SCREAM A THUNDEROUS ROAR YOU BOLT LIKE A STEED WITH THE WORLD AT YOUR FEET...

I want to live
And run away from the thorned world
But there's no need to hide now
I'll stay and keep afloat
I want to see
How many skies will fall
And see the angels come tumbling with damaged wings
After all the search will never end
How does it feel
Now that you're born into this world
To face a myriad ghouls
That feed on your flesh
Poison your stomach with acid pleasantries
And leave you naked dying,
Rolling in pain
How does it feel?

Once Ago, None In the End

I see rock chasing money prostitutes, cruelly hounding, cruelly conditioning
Them, yelping bitches tickled by the meager sparkle mounted by their honeys on their skinny fiddlers
Noses thrown high, sneer casting their eyes, screwing their heads in gluttonous disappointment
The glittering greed humping their eyes, howling their misled fortunes to the diamond chiseled skies
While the poor boys drudge their knees and calloused hands through a gold world
That teaches their wenches the value of love comes from the magnitude of a ruby, an emerald, a sapphire
They cry
The skimpy stones bewail only a glimpse of heaven and the giver's heart
And they peer their peers with jealous eyes, whose blinkers offer a life in Shangri-La
Gaudy broads riding the jeweled life, puffing and huffing about their handsome existence
Unknowing of the deadly squandering of their lives till a sickly, ill time on earth
A cancer spreading proudly itself to death a hollow anger angry at the only thing that cannot satisfy
Conditions set upon the lifetime vows they make, that turn around empty as the golden halos peel off into steel
Hideous monsters emerge from the darkened blinds of a foolish agreement the holy union made
An agreement thickened by the disgusting crown of royalty they see and want and eventually hold
Only to find the questions to life unspared, that leave them scouring the devil nights of pounding ecstasy
And now the crunch begins
They spill the streets for rushes and highs, and return the living room with smeared disguise
Shaking their junked up heads as they call it a day, a day they found the transient answers that show more than what their rubies could
That shine and howl the eternal vows, till death do they part, with their wills close to their hearts
And they, who yearn for the charmers all yellow and cold, with stiffened hearts studded with trinkets galore
Without anymore of the flooding bloody rage unstopping and floating up on rooftops stinging the wind with their sorrows
Madness eats them up
Banging their punches on the top of their heads in a whirl and their face holes tearing the skies with cries
Harping the indifference stuffing their pores, and fury burnt upon their throbbing brains
Bursting hyaenas, crumpled faces of frustration erupt the flawless night serving their trumpets of sins to the world
And all at once is finally washed out and immaculately poised to face the plunging thump to the screaming streets
The worldly eyes zombied and grey and tired, now feasting the cradling howling gust
Stare in ready deafness, hogging the affection of the wind and savouring it for the last time
Stare in lonely stone blindness from the heightened diving board honoured of a first jump
The race is on and the chill digs in, whacks through the nostrils and pulls out a first retarded frightened sigh
The body seeps the earth with a crunching metamorphose blow, digesting yet another unquenched stone chaser

In the time between sleep and wake, I saw a frame frozen in time, that told me of a silly deed I made.

Well I guess my words just find it difficult to be conceived...

I was poked by a messenger's inquisitions today, whose tidings will unfortunately be received in umbrage. I can't help but to face my eyes towards sympathy where my words get mistakenly appropriated. Words that stab my heart with rue. Words that lavish and festoon upon the chains of my past. My ties have been cleanly cloven by what I have said already. Do not rope me back with words of seduction for I do not wish anymore to kiss my recent past.

My composure sits. I express contrition. But the smarting of a vicious cycle thrusting and stinging my nerves is something I have no strength to repeat.

My remembrance of days of yore is diluted by something of a more potent capacity. A character native of my heart. A story that drifted on 5 erratic oceans, encapsulated in a bottle, braving whatever storms or calm there was to come. However, the bottle's anchored to shore and has been opened now. Storms and calm are over now. Just like your story is come to a close.

But even so if there ever was a ditty worded for you, they are merely words. No hidden message of a tryst eagerly waiting in anticipation to be decoded will be buried within. So I say, truly, let go. I have.

The Unfinished Ballad

There is a girl whose innocence is so tender
I'll bet she's the only one and there's no other
She raves about a boy and craves his attention
She's a cotton ball, a cloud who floats his direction
This girl is simple as a beautiful creature in the world
Whose only weakness is to give her all
She's partly human and wholly angel
And the rest of her just simply a girl

Well this boy she's been talking all about
He's young and obviously not seen enough
He loves her too but knows not how to love her
Cos he wants to see the world, his all's just ain't enough
When he makes her cry his heart dies and he's sorry
He sings his lullaby for her, now she's happy
But this is not enough for him for he's hungry
He wants to rule the world

Now it seems that he's been superficially dreaming
He feels the torrent emptiness waking
But still he tries to walk along the path hither
Towards the place where he finds his vigour
While he's busy being blinded by his romances
And other great things he's planned to do
This girl still waits aside silently
Till his heart flies back to her

In the midst of this burnin' confusion
And his constant contradiction
She grows tired of excuses he is making
His words and promises seem to be breaking
He flies to her and out again
And leaves her standing alone again
Now he sings his lullaby for her then she's happy
But it's only a brief phase

Now while the world goes on rotating
The sun and moon continues levitating
The graveyards busk silently in the constellation
And people go on living their own chapters
This story of the boy and girl that I've revealed
Will constantly go on in recurrance
So I tell you now don't keep in heart what you listen
Cos this story might not be real

SWEET DREAMS

Nothing in nothing, it seems
Might actually be something in nothing
That manifests something from nothing
Which really is something
So this, I guess, is something
That materializes from something
Which initially was developed from nothing
That was nothing in something
So, this something
Was always there in nothing
That created something
That multiplied into something else
Hoorah!

The scent of an angel drifts through my reminiscent graveyards. By and by, little beads of heaven will wash out the pangs that grated my heart. Cloud out whatever that boiled in me. Cloud out whatever that remains a blemish that drove my mind out into sewage recollections. I cannot help my own hands to write what i used to. But only to find the papers stained by a handwriting driven by love. Somehow, they only remain what they are now. Paper stains outlasting ironically the confessions they read.

Hunted down by my own atrocity, I know I need no more to gouge out my eyes to shroud the grief I have set upon myself. I smiled a smile that stayed too long. I smiled a murdered smile, holding back the axe with my head in the hood, picking up pieces of stones that fell along the way into the mire.

The scent of an angel has hidden itself from me where I no longer have the courage to stand up to my resolute grounds. And I cannot suffer the pains my legs receive when they trudge upon the fiery nails hell cannot even hold. And I get drunk on self pity, something that lodged into my intestines and unwilling to pass itself out, talons digging deep and stiff. Stiff from too long in limbo. And now it just decides poisoning me on self-deprecation shall more or less do the job. I get knuckled under.

Fairies leap their trips on their flutterers bounding. Spraying the emulated fragrances that cannot last long as they nose out. Skunk out. Rudely fuming hard nostril punches driving deep into a teary burn. They don't and will never meet on equal grounds. For they are merely fairies soon to wilt and crumble to sprinkle. Dissolving into an obscurity they never thought they'd end up.

An angel is unfairy. And I've wrenched her out. And I miss her...

Happiness is an angel

The scent of an angel has hidden itself from me. I smile a smile that stays too long and now it has become murdered. A smile that is murdered still smiles. But only now it is dead. Cos it's waited too long for the scent of the angel to appear again.

Remember that
God blesses you
and loves you in
all you do.

Heavy heat sets in under my skin. It crawls and eats with searing discomfort, plundering the sweetness of vanity I've yet to savour. The magnanimity of what that poured out from the sky... I am burning to death...

I am stew in der ar mee!!!
Sum wan hepch me tu O-R-D!!!
Eh wee day I am go ink cray zee!!!
2 mor monks but still like roo kee!!!
Stay in bung lee veeng like a coo lee!!!
46 mor days and I will be free!!!
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.
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.
.
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I guess there's no choice but to grit mi teeth...

I'm completely indifferently submerged. It's time to let my time start alone. Trip down farwards fairyland and it'll be just like beginning a waterfall kiss flitting and falling. Why don't I just take my time quickly. Watch the way my eyes taste the dense muffin wind. It's tasty sin isn't it? Lovely. I'll take my chance in the meantime and close my eyes to the sweet devil charmers. The sweet coquettish grins spewing brazen drunk uncontrolled come-hither breaths piercing the mosaic darkness with fountains of blinking glare. They would never fail for they provide the material pleasure what most are looking for. What about the bigger picture?

I'm deadly surprised of my brand new hunger. Not the ravenous skirt shredder, but the one that cocktails my horrifics and nonchalant ebullience of the wonderment of being. Breath and existence. One and all. The miracle of change supplies a new me in every second. Are you really the person that was supposed to be a thought ago? Think about it. Your senses always tells you the same thing. They don't change. But your thoughts are on a perennial journey. They don't ever stop. So it is that while you perceive your material surroundings as they always are, you have become a different person altogether through your thoughts and breath.

TRIP THE LIGHT
WHERE DEATH ROLLS ON MY MIND
COLLECT MY DEMONS
AND RAGE THEM AGAINST TIME
DO NOT TAKE MY HAND
FOR YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE SCOURGED AS I
I'LL CARRY YOUR ACID WHISPERS
AND PRINT THEM ON MY LUCID DREAMS

Imagine today is a box. And yesterday is a box. And the days to come are all boxes. Your thoughts, deeds, spoken words, every responsibility, toubles and every material enitity are collected and stored into this box. We become a prisoner within each day. A life that seals up and opens up new upon the clangour of the midnight chimes.

You'll never be able to even have so much as a glance of what's in there again. Only the vestigial memories. The stone henches of your ancient achievements and failures all wrapped up in a 24 hour package. Even the individual seconds of the day are ice cubes of all your thoughts, deeds and words. Change is immutable, never ceasing. You look up into the sky and you miss a raindrop landing upon the ground. You'll never have the chance to see the frozen picture of everything happening all at once in this world of galloping time at searing speeds.

So I've come to realise the preciousness of each second. Why freeze those unhappy times when you have a choice to look beyond its guise and see them as a good way to grow in strength and faith in God. Why bother to dwell on the bad when it stifles your development. Spilled milk will evaporate. Or you can even speed it up by wiping it away. Every problem is just an opprtunity waiting to be discovered. Take your time and find the light. There will always be an exit in every cave. Or rather, an entrance that you can avoid.

I cannot see my eyes
I cannot smell my nose
I cannot hear my ears
I cannot taste my tongue

Only can I feel my emotions
And think my thoughts
Because my body's just an illusion
A temple built in your eyes

What did my eyes utter?
One hour did they bat their flutters
Did they then come to life
Upon the midst a morn contrived

How I dragged my dread
And scorned the sleeping
The thirst for bed
Swirls the hours unstopping

Whom the fault shall I throw
In place my dusty eyes?
Not any will they have contrite
But me I'll bear in sluggish might

I've finally handed my fears to the furnace and to thee i spake. Now my spangled heart rises with the stars and rests in a satiated langour. Thank you for the exchange. Nothing means more than a word uttered in familiarity. And my walk clears up towards thee.

I'm stoned-bound our foot traces will agree. What a year? What a decaded piece in time? I'm certain that one day out of that 2 will come. And of course, the 2nd is imminent.

But I'm happy there is some sort of gladness in your company now. There's no telling on heartfelt sorrows or heartfelt love. There's only just one thing in the realm of my knowledge. And this I say from the bottom of my heart, for the length of time I'll serve my time under the big cheese, my presence will be ever ready to forego priorities under your name.

The sky's loom clouds over
The world's forehead bends
And the fisting gales rages through
And ropes in the hailing tides
There's a perfect weather for me

Everything blocks out the memories of time and my quivers just act out their spontaneous evolution to end. It's gonna be all right i guess. Cos the storm now in its tempestuous stage wizards a most horrifying string of thoughts in my brain and I can't renounce them. And it will end soon enough. I've walked this stretch round my life and have gained good enough knowledge that this will begin with a good ending.

And it's good. My trials got me good with a huge dosage of patience stuffing me up. I'm better now and ever will be. But now to dare, I dare not dare. The raging in my head swirls and surges, and batters my longing beater. And the gushing urge to bare my barest dear to me is swinging out of control now. Once the jingle dwindles, the serenity will come and drape its dribble upon my frame and I'll just close my batters with sweet peacefulness shot through my veins.

That day will only come in 2 ways.

Howls! Howls you? Arve bin stinkin around fur quite sum thumbs now. Trance out a biddie bit wiggly squiggles and I must say tis' a spankin new thangalingaling fur my doodles. Aight now. Arve just weetle left of thumbs ta goo and fig your'd that mee bee ard press a few mua bootens n skoot out arf ere before ma geetar chums boot me ass! Lata!