Little Chump

Little chump got mad when left for a week. Little chump wouldn't be even more mad when left behind for another week. Little chump would be terribly mad when I have to go back to Uni and only sees little chump on fridays and weekends.

So sorry my little chump.

As it goes

Apparently I have Vertigo.

Never pay any attention to it, since U2 practically torture the name.

Oh No Ono

Listen to your breathing, Listen to your child breathing, Listen to your friend breathing, Keep listening

                   Yoko Ono



I am pretty sure a psychopath would say such thing. Or a demented person collecting a mental tape on others' breathing.

Not sure about Yo(cuc)ko(o) but it's not an interest of mine to listen to a person breathing. In fact, it's rather annoying/tad a bit scary. Yeah women, I have nothing better to do than listening to myself breathing, or anyone else's for that matter. Surely she'd say that such memories are pertinent, when handling the loss of the person who you have listen to him/her breathing.

I miss a friend, and the thing that keeps me alive is the sound of him breathing. His breathing calms me at times where I would long for him to be near me. The playing of mental audio of him breathing allows me to rejoice the moments we had.

Unless myself, a child I haven't have, or a friend is battling with a breathing disorder that requires constant inspection to avoid fatal occurrence, then I'd be glad to lend my ear. Otherwise, I'm not a psychopath you mental head, or a doctor.



On a serious note, this women has been suffering from neglect. Given the constant twattering on whisper or tell a non-living/intangible object something, as the object will take it to the other objects or the end of the world. Obvious clue there eh. She leaves quite a number of them, lack of passion, lack of love, lack of everything.

for more, feed your mind with her nonsense Hiyar

"...they couldn't tell me who Pearl Jam was, not a single one of them..."

and they keep on upsetting and disappointing me. Really, how can you not know who Pearl Jam is. How can you not know.

We have players as gold as 30 plus, how is it possible to not even heard of Pearl Jam. They'd probably have shits like, I don't know, shits on their music player.

This calls for my mission to possibly lurk inside their lives and turn their heads around. Feed them with proper music and not current top 40.

You dear Sirs have officially acquire the distressing look from me. How could you be so square, or chavvy, or that daft to listen to top 40 without accepting any proper music. Pfft

88

If once I could be seen in colours you'd like. And to exist in eternal memory. Walk on the endless path. Tremble to the never ending noise. If I could be seen in form you'd like. We'll be ghosts. Lost inside the faded memory. Lingering on the path we'll never find. Shivering on the careful silence. If I could be seen. By the eyes outside.

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

The beauty of internet. When you don't look hard enough, you'll look like an idiot. Even an internet palm reading services/wacky mind reading people could figure me out instantly.

So if you look hard enough, you can find anything you're looking for. Even the structure of my being. Quit hacking me accounts or pretending to do such because I lie when filling out the information columns. Unless you'd find my skype account, or you're that good, or you've been spending too much time on the net, or you're just mental.

Why bother looking for me. I am actually a 54 year old bearded man living in a cave with a fantastic internet connections, and I absolutely hate everyone. As Roy puts it, People...what a bunch of bastards. And you, bastard, there's a way to get to someone, called email.

Don't look for me. Unless you own LFC and everything else.

Youuuuul Neeeeeeveeeeer

Waaaaaalllllk.......Ahhhhhlooooooneeeee

It's quite obvious the amount of time some people have in their hands, especially when they're no longer tied upon the pillar of slavery.

After a month of excruciating pain of working, could now get back in the mood for Football.

The squad appears to be in a solid form, and the only thing I could do, is to hope that the look would translates on the pitch.

The boys have each scored their first. A massive Congratuwelldone! More to come perhaps. However, all good news must be accompanied by a bad one, Kelly could probably extend his injury days, and that's shit.

Nonetheless, they promised that I'll never walk alone, and after 10 years of supporting LFC, hopefully, this season would bring me a partner to walk together. Through the path directing to Anfield.

I quite enjoy this form of lame statement to be produced occasionally.

and dear God of Football, let the Gunners triumph in tomorrows' clash, as we could no longer tolerate brattiness and arrogance airing from those United bastards. May you bless us all.

Fall

The wounding sorrow
gleefully wrapping life in
Dispersing bile
on the reminiscence

Pass the warm fumes

Kiss the cold air

Hide the hands
that collect the memories
Close the eyes
that witness the bearing


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


G: Have you ever experience a moment when your heart just stops.
M: Cardiac arrest? No.
G: No silly! Like when you see someone you like, or the person you're really in love with.
M: That would be an alarming moment.... maybe you should see a doctor about that. Really, your heart stops and it doesn't worry you. How did he do that anyway? Making your heart stops when you see him? Is he a wizard, or he's just that ridiculously ugly, your heart just fails....

She probably despise me at the moment. Given the amount of terrible remarks I keep on throwing at her.

How could a heart stops beating when feeling comes in anyway?

Perhaps the only reason I am asking such question is due to my incapability to apprehend the concept of being in love, as everyone puts it. It is basically when a person turns the infatuation developed over another to an overt reality.

The suspension of life, for love is as dubious as it seems.

Love is when you:

Find someone you like, exchange batches of traits and interests, feeling a little more that you would normally feel for any other human beings, turn into someone a tad different than of what is modeled, embark on journeys, possibly pursue the evolution of the relationship, and die. Or you just realize what a bunch of tosh the person is and circles around the cycle again - with someone else that you believe to be of whatever it is.

Sounds a bit tiring is it not.

I am a horrible person, often found to be rude, deep in my own imagination, perusing
matters completely irrelevent to the progression of life (as people believe), unable to retain focus or control, selective in listening/hearing, enjoy manic subjects, hold on to the idea of life as an avenue to troll around while loving it, a bit blokish, can be aggresive at time, hate going out, and if I go on even further, I might just start thinking of myself as a corrupted monster. So how can there be a person to be able to take this.

Maybe I am just higlighting the terrible components, to avoid this subject altogether.

Maybe I just want to enjoy having the power to infatuate over any beings without the
trouble.

Regardless.

Is there a proper or scientific explanation on how a heart could stop when in circumstancial dilemma or event. Clogged vein? Anything? Because if I ever start to experience it, I could seek help/intervention without wasting time.

I would really like to know that.









But the truth is, it hurts to arrive home from work, at midnight, with the glimmering moon inciting awful feelings about life, to only finds a cat waiting for you to come home, a text from a network provider saying stupid things, and a bed offering comfort and warmth. Because I would be much happier if a dog together with the cat are waiting for me to be back, with Jaffa Cakes and orange juice by the side of the bed, and a text from a friend telling me there is a wicked show on the telly. That is a life.

A Jolly Season

When an admin of a footballers' page updates shit like 'New picture...Show me some love', it is within a normal expectation for this kind of response to be given away. What baffles me is that it's approved for such comment to appear. A point for me?

Some says it's Martin Kelly himself updating, showing the side of him we don't wish to see. Nevertheless, the update, on the same boat as Maldinis' is deleted. Though I'm not assuming responsibility for this one as the poster below me takes one step further, and use the word 'Fuck'. We all know such crass language is not to be tolerated by them footballers. Pfft.

So far Me: 1+1, Footballers' Page: 0.



While we're at it.


Tired of United Fans being dickheads. So do I.

But what is there for us dispute. They're the champion. They're terribly good in everything in life. From shagging old lady(ies), being demanded for occasional drug test and missed it, being incredibly dumb, cheating on wives, constant appearances for public pub brawls, drunken antics, unprofessional behaviour on and off pitch, slagging off people for being more mature than they are, slagging of other teams for the other teams having more balls and brains than they are, chavy attitude, and football.

What do Liverpool have to offer? Good football and Stevie G public pub brawl.

I'm left unimpressed by my team.

We don't encourage our players enough, in supporting and chanting for our fellow running-chasing mates like Owen from United does for their beloved teammate.



He learns a lot of the good values since settling on the bench. Why can't WE thrive for such admirable gestures.



The only thing we have is Ste (don't watch it, just google-d it) screaming 'Go away! It's mah ball' during match.

Why can't we be great.

And it keeps on coming

"Even if all fat people are the way they are due to their bad choices, even if every single fat person is unhealthy, that does not justify sub-standard treatment. How can the health of strangers possibly inspire such vitriol? If you remain convinced that
others’ bodies are your business and people must justify their existence to you, perhaps you should consider the possibility that you are an arsehole."


She deserves a massive collection of laughter for what she shit about.

We don't care about fatties, but they are pushing it when they come on our telly and moan.

The "Why did I become like this?, How did I get this fat? I can't live like this.
This is not who I am." and it goes on, and on, and on.

So Ms. Frances Lockie, you wonder why we are in disgust over fatties. It's because fatties ruin our television experience by asking mind-boggling questions, while hoping we would show some sympathy, or empathy from fellow fatties.

You become fat, as the callous woman puts it (fat is not a fucking term to describe a person you idiot) because you eat like a cow after a year of hunger strike. So don't go around asking me why it happens, ask the one holding the shit.

Their fattiness is none of our business, but they make it into a business.

The same goes with models who look like they're about to jump into the soils. We bitch about it because they go on every possible media outlets and place together their bones, to make people believe that's the only way you can be look upon as beautiful, interesting, with the chance of banging those we could only long for. We bitch about it because they are implying the idea that looking like a dead person is a marvelous choice.


So, with all fat people being the way they are due to their bad choices, with every single fat person being unhealthy, that does justify sub-standard treatment as it goes by their constant efforts in moaning in front of our faces. The health of strangers inspire such vitriol due to the nature of fatties blaming everyone and everything else for their bad choices while taking their filth to tellies and make money for it. We are not convinced that others’ bodies are our business and people must justify their existence, but perhaps Ms. Lockie you should consider the possibility that you are an idiot because nobody gives a fuck about fatties before they pretend to have been treated as worthless fucks by the general public.

Oh, must point this out, this nutter writes for Cosmopolitan. Way to go, you hypocritical cow.

Hot Jumping Beans

After long hours of work, this REALLY made me happy, and food, and the fact that they make the fatty looks and sounds like an idiot/pig.

Me want some hot jumping beans with loads of ketchup.

Fucking hell, and people I know refuse to laugh as loud as they can.


You, dear sir, is a winner. And I applaud your effort in being super fine.

Epic

Cannot understand how no one else sees this. Maldini is great, but whoever posted this should know that he/she is making no sense at all.

Great they're having a wonderful holiday. What. Me? Manager? To who? Is this a fucking joke?.

It's sad to see the amount of 'Yes', 'What do I do?', and other oblivious comments.

Rest in peace my dear logic.

Ape vs Swat

Reckon that should be the sequel to Rise of the super long title for a film.

I find it incredibly idiotic with a touch of classic comedy, where you'd laugh mostly because it is stupid. Though my friend finds it to be a good film. I can't contest as I find everything to be shit.

It would've been better if they get actual raging monkeys, I mean apes to be in the film. The ape in hand is Caesar, who is quite cute before he goes mental - the point begin when the awful James Franco forget to pick him up from school.

Oh, and Franco just happen to get in a car that is virtually untouched by the raging apes towards the end of the film. Not even a freakin scratch.

Which proves that apes are considerate when it comes to this type of thing.

If any of the writer struggling for the next instalment, Ape vs Swat is the perfect gateway. You'll be on the edge of the seat when the plot revolves around raging apes battling horrible bunch of men in forms. Or just awful plot at its' best.

At the end of the day, the film is terrible because Franco is a thief, murderer and a bad father to an ape. And the ape demonize other apes, painting a bad picture on the population of apes. And with so many apes involve in the film and whatever shit I just mention, it just goes to show, you can never be too careful with apes. As they eat biscuits, and hang in numbers.

CN & CNC

Obviously mama fucked a cow and a chicken. And dad didn't care even a tiny bit.

Way to teach children the foundation of bestiality, prick.

Half bake reality

The revelation that twats run around the net.

Facebook to be exact.

There's this one kid (he/she mentioned to be a teenager) posted on the LulzSec page "Ï am a teenager and you inspire me ;).". To my surprise, without a definite knowledge on what he/she found to be inspiring, people started to click on the develish 'Like' button.

Being the person that I am, I asked 'What exactly inspires you?' - and because I was in a good mood, I inserted 'Not trying to be a prick', before such question followed.

With time passed, my harmless question was not answered.



In despair, I found such has been deleted the next day when I eagerly check for a respond.

I don't find it offensive, or inappropriate - hence the reason it was not being respond to is simply because the kid is a twat. I'm being terrible here so let me retract it and reproduce my judgement, he's a teenager who can't possibly explain himself.

It's not known who might have deleted it, but a direct conclusion would be a revelation, that these people possess no idea/stance on what they're believing in, in other words, they're twats.

If you can't answer a harmless question by a curious cat, you don't deserve a place to say you are supporting a cause to annihilate parties trying to take away rights - to speak, etc.

You are by careful observation, a teenager looking for ways to be cool. Sadly boy/girl, supporting something blindly does not make you a cool kid.

And if the LulzSec themselves/itself deleted it, then dear sir, you are a sad excuse for a cause.

I sure hope it's a mistake, because I hate the idea of having mindless children running around the world.

D-Man

The only reason for this distance, is the basis of this relationship.

We've scoured well within each other. With the eyes apart.

Volatile connections kept us in.

but this tailored piece fits well.

enough to be torn.


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

As you put it, I can't stand the idea of being with anyone whom I can't call names. Truth is, no one can stand me as I call them names.

We're two twats, capable of adhering to each others' antics. And that's what we'll always be - the two wrecking balls with time to spend.

Anthrofuckingpology

With my mother finally consented in letting me further my studies in Anthropology, the dilemma still lives - as she has no intention to pay my tuition fee. To be able to receive the coveted Scholarship is just near impossible for an unlucky cow like me. Hence, I will just have to beg my father to pay for it. As if it makes it that much easier.

I would like to go back to New York, and live with the friend whom I would have no need to find excitement. I enjoy New York and I have my favourite places to be. Though like my mother, I could not stand the wicked weather, and if I to be following the mother's steps, the next plausible option would be California.

I don't know much in loving California. Good weather, but nothing else matters. However, the positioning is fantastic, as I have families dwelling around the State.

With that in mind, the final option would be to answer the call of my Uncle and live with him in London, which probably the next best option after New York.

And all these mongering, the most probably thing that would occur is me working like a dog and longing for the chance to do Anthropology. Never does anything I have wished for turns around and knock on the door. Hence, it is a waste of time to deliver my interest to reality.

Because reality is one annoying fuckface.

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.