K

Like a cancer
taking charge of the mind
swinging eyes around
hinging on the next

And come inside
luring life
further away
from the next line

Until the end
strangling the skin
forcing regret
to live on the edge

I Am a Boy

A friend mentions, how he would have thought of me as a boy if no picture and name accompany these interests.

Well I do wish I am a boy, so that I don't have to struggle with the harassment from the women in events, forcing me to put on some chemicals shit on the face. And so that I could live my lifelong dream of becoming the mini Mullen, or a clown, or a mime artist, or a drumming twat.

That's the beauty of facebook, or any other social networking sites. For us to judge on a person based on what he or she, allows to be made public, and not feel bad about it. Cause' if you really like people to not bother in making assumptions on who you are, you wouldn't have participated in this social madness.

So speculate my dear friends, on how I am actually a boy using your wacky friends' name and picture to appear even wackier.

Or how I am an alien, trying to tear your skull apart, and devour on your yummy brain. Haha mental.

Metal Bums

Where world culture is dominated by people who build themselves based on the culture, it is not easy being the one who do not understand of such culture (?).

Pop-ish twats wear shits, punk kids try to look tough, indie peeps dress annoyingly 'cool', and hipsters are a sad excuse.

Oh yeah, and metal heads should look like this



To note, that is a bloke looking funnily like a girl, or it is just me that thought he looks more like a girl.

While I enjoy almost all types of music, except the ones where the lines consist of something to do with fucking a girl or smacking her arse, or anything remotely stupid as that, I find it difficult to relate to anyone else who shares the same enjoyment. However, I face a challenge, when confronting the other music goers. Most of them often give me a funny look, implying their belief that I am an imposter and I will never belong in such music culture.

For instance, I fucking enjoy metal music, which is the first rhythm I enjoy as a child. Yet, none of the metalheads enjoy seeing me, as I look like this



Not my best look but it indicates how I do not look the part, any part of the music culture.

But really, are you that deep in shithole that you need to assume a look to be a part of something. And by giving me faces, you bury yourself even deeper my friend. I like how I look so sod off, and I like my coffee just like my metal. Haa no coffee is shit, and metal music is not.

BooYah

HB

I am under privilege. For the ability to live pass you.
Around the circus I dream. Press feeding your eyes.

I am under. Cloud nine and a half.
By no weave. Hinging me in.


.......................

While people worry on the endless loneliness in others, I worry about their mental state.

Two is a party, and one is a ghost. Traveling through the age of survival.

For me to be a ghost, is, undeniably, the most precious thing I could ever possess.
Until that other comes by - I will pass through your windows. Prancing with your best memory (ies).

I understand the concern coming in. But really, do I appear to be horrified about life. Or you are imagining this, to taunt me with your ties.

It is not easy flying by. Searching for the ghost to haunt me. I am no you or she or they or everyone. I am the stone rolling in - making rough remarks. On the girly eyes, the C+ smile, and the ingenuous days you wish for me to dream on.

Believe me when I say I am fine. Proof:

1) I google for all animals with an addition of the word 'fat', and I sure enjoy it.
2) I youtube kids scarred for life - by being tricked into tricks, and hell I love it.
3) I talk to myself about the world and everything else in between, and you better believe I like it.

and

4) I do everything for my own pleasure, and you cannot tell me how terrible it is.


The reason of the thrill I absorb, is because I do things for me and my mind. In a party, there is no 'I' and there can never be.

When a premise to be a selfish bastard is presented to you - without any hazard to be
purported on others, why not jump into it. My selfishness harm nobody - yet. With it, I must make use of it before it fades. Like all the other traits I used to have.

So the next time you feel bad about me not having a partner, reflect on the things you have missed. The infinity of laughs by only watching people caught up in confusion. The infinity of watery eyes, by having daddy longlegs scare the fuck out of you.

Hence, with the new trend, I am lulzing at you for not hanging on. Square.

G

Once you get in
with eyes threading
on the stoned lips

In further carry on
a moment of crude
gently withering

And I could
draw for you
to set off

the fire under

Till now
you have forgone
the minutes of viral

flood the scene

When all seems to end,
forward
pacify the sky

..............................

Is it terrible having 13-16 years old boys asking my mother about me. I don't respond to the calls so I can't be a paedophile.

For the Lulz (Sec)

The recent takedown of The Sun’s website continues to captivate internet users, whether it is for or against the perpetrator, LulzSec.

It is commonly accepted that they do enjoy the attention, given their Twitter page accounting every completed ‘mission’. Denial of such is just plain abnormality of the mind.

I would not be too joyful if any of my accounts are hacked, though I would believe that they would be on the losing end - considering the lack of delicious information in any one of those accounts. Mind you, I am not luring your desire to prove me wrong.

With this I should direct my question on the very purpose of their attacks. Other than for the ‘lulz’, I wonder why its’ members conduct these operation. There is slight enjoyment that occupies me, though as this subject is well beyond my comprehension, I must admit how careless of me to take this as an entertainment.

My support is well provided when it comes to shoving it off to the big corporation on how they have manipulated the consumers by not protecting the data - when they should. However, do the LulzSec ever wonder that perhaps these corporations could not give a wanker on what has been proven - which ultimately, diminished the whole purpose of the operation.

As I stated, I am not within the knowledge of this subject. Therefore enlightenment could very well be appreciated.

The fact that they have stated to be disbanded and then attack The Sun makes me a bit off. As it reminds me of the day Jay-Z mentioned that –name- album would be his last for his retirement, and then came back with a new one several years later. Though with the LulzSec, it is different, as my ill feeling does not exist towards them.

While I enjoy the wits coming from the Lulzers (?), it would be gracious if they turn out to be nothing like the posters on Guardian expected them to be – young, non-social geeks.

Nothing is within my expectation that my words would be traced by them, but if they did, feel free to not meddle with my internet shits because I actually like you :), unless you are awkward non-social geeks who would do anything to justify your love for Star Wars or anything akin to it.

By the way, how much of an extra time and interest you must have, considering I never really enjoy the internet other than random lulz I get from random search. Oh......

F

Let the waves swallow our eyes
wrestling
as a reminder

The marks we paint
washing away
the high blues

With days we take
submitting
to the soul underneath

And the promises
would cripple
under our breath

After-Delight

An afternoon of past encounter. Exactly three years of past.

Time changed people. It changed me and certainly everyone else involved in the wicked
circle of life.

We spent a lunch together, after three years of non-physical contact with each other. I was expectantly cold off my feet. Worried on how we might turned out to hate the company. Like almost all my past faces, she grew much taller than I am. I don't quite fancy the outcome time had imposed, as we now no longer converged upon the same bubble.

with time, she finally discovered how I couldn't give a flying monkey - when it comes to saying things. The instance being me lashing out on the smoking culture, when sokers behind us could've easily heard me.

It was also found that I am, definitely, an evil insensitive being.

Precisely a 'face I'd like to kick', as pointed out by another friend while comparing
me to Mr. Jimmy Carr - not a bad comparison I must say.

At such, I learned she sounded a lot mature than I am, by way of the tone of her voice (she sounds like a grown up, and I sound like I just popped out of my mother). Fitting perfectly behind a table of brilliant panel of brilliant people. And she planned on Medicine world for Uni. While I cringed on the idea of being a working adult.

She had, indeed, made me felt like a little twat. Nothing bad about it, since she felt the same. Crying on the fact that I am going to my third year of Law School at 20, while she, an aspiring being at 19, waiting for an entry.

Reminiscing the weekend trip that brought us a bond, of the time spent learning about each other. While spending the next three not knowing each other.

I am by a lot, felt the need to grow up. To set aside my imaginarium, the video games, the sugar high carefree vibe, the peter-pan life. It could be time for me to be more like her. Sounds all grown up with a deep stern voice.

Eh fuck it, I like being a child, of babies voice. I like my imagination, video games, hyperself. I like being looked upon as a soft sand on feet. Then terrorize the world with sandstorm. By this I don't mean to hijack a plane or perform mass murder.

If there's one thing I learn over the lunch, by no way should you adopt a sparkling face while telling a terrible story. Apparently I did. Must've been the anxiety.

I

If there is something to talk about,
the feet that tangles would bring it out,
making words to fall out of the tongue

and until then there will be thoughts,
rummaging nights for empty eyes
by the round table on a false light

for it to be more convenient,
to think of ways to cheat time,

for it to be more
than counting sheep at night.