Some bones are funny, while most trace the trend. Hidden beast in an angel, triumph terror in a glass. Some lines are high, and the spoken pacing rough. Linen covered under ears, and stealing reality from the breathes. Sallow and sweet, sudden, yet no longer by side.
..............................
People are funny. Unfortunately not in a comedic performance. Too attached to modern cultures and racing ways, yet empty in the hole where fillings are the most plead.
It's a fact how everything we see corrupt our minds. We no longer learn anything by our own thoughts and efforts. Everything is drawn down for us to knock ourselves in. Manners, way of life, and, to the way we dress. No one really bothers in finding the person inside.
Ignorance is no longer the issue. It's the pride and sense of worth that do us blind. We're too cultured and hip and cool, that we do everything wrong to the nicest being we're next to. We're too pretty and intelligent and possess no body odours, and yet, we use the spoon to saccharined our fouls.
In a way, I'm glad nobody really knows me. Since I know myself too well to blend in with the light minds. Let see how far you can climb, cause baby, the land will always catch you free. Be there a name glittered on you, I can tell better with a poo carrying me.
Keep Steady Beat
Miss singing the kind of shits being played all over. It's almost fun when you're with the people. Unless you're keen in singing, this may not be a preference.
A family friend had lavished me with her past items. A mustard-coloured, funny and dirty bag she had since in her twenties is now clinging on my shoulders. Beside it being bigger than myself, it fits nicely and extensively.
And the 'cool' sunnies kids are wearing these days. With rejection on such by her niece, she decided the best person to give away unwanted stuff would be me. Made sense because a thrift kiddo like me appreciates free things.
Besides, the best things in life ARE FREE.
Where's The Ginger Girl?
An anagrammatic text would either annoys the shit out of you or connect your mind to others' thoughts.
If only there's a vision goggle in reading it. I have a friend who's as keen in anagram as me, resulting various migraine in coming out with an actual message.
She reckons dreams are made up of anagrams in pictures.
I reckon we should lay off the problematic and mind-boggling things to computers. We're doom to be taken over by them anyway.
If only it would be easy to read a fine by your circles. Would've been as easy as playing with colours, and tripping over it once we come to its' grip.
If only there's a line to your door. It'll be less of everything.
If only the sky bow down to me. I would be farther, leaving every note of wishes.
IF only I could speak in you. There will be no words left to be a reminder.
If only there's a vision goggle in reading it. I have a friend who's as keen in anagram as me, resulting various migraine in coming out with an actual message.
She reckons dreams are made up of anagrams in pictures.
I reckon we should lay off the problematic and mind-boggling things to computers. We're doom to be taken over by them anyway.
If only it would be easy to read a fine by your circles. Would've been as easy as playing with colours, and tripping over it once we come to its' grip.
If only there's a line to your door. It'll be less of everything.
If only the sky bow down to me. I would be farther, leaving every note of wishes.
IF only I could speak in you. There will be no words left to be a reminder.
Arthi
Those fast eyes, chasing the end. Losing its' tip from the body. Tucking romantic lines and savour the spits. Exposing the lifeless. Echoes the bridge. Covering the lips with numb thoughts. To stage a life, to marry this bone.
..........................
The best part about looking like a 15 year old is getting away when stupid commentaries are made. The un-best part about it, is, having another 15 year old saying 'Nice to meet you' in a superior manner.
Once I turn 20 next year, I'll be 16. Hence, a disregard on money should come in again, in a bigger form.
It's almost impossible for me to watch any news channel now. CNN never cover the football properly. BBC fuck you hard. And others say things they probably don't even know of. Our news broadcaster is turning into Wikipedia. Appreciated for the wrong reason. Or no one cares in tuning in.
..........................
The best part about looking like a 15 year old is getting away when stupid commentaries are made. The un-best part about it, is, having another 15 year old saying 'Nice to meet you' in a superior manner.
Once I turn 20 next year, I'll be 16. Hence, a disregard on money should come in again, in a bigger form.
It's almost impossible for me to watch any news channel now. CNN never cover the football properly. BBC fuck you hard. And others say things they probably don't even know of. Our news broadcaster is turning into Wikipedia. Appreciated for the wrong reason. Or no one cares in tuning in.
Obbie
Snorting the present lights,
as a phase pass on by.
Illuminating trends and deep delirious thoughts,
harvest next to the collected dreams.
The neck elongated,
for a catch better tainted.
Mouthing a peripheral context,
to earn legs in the tribe.
Prayers needing substitution,
of another washed vision.
Tracing their defaults,
a mechanical faulty trials.
....................................
I like to think there is still an available rustic wooden shack waiting for me at the end of the light, reaching the edge of life.
I like to think I am not as daft, even without any interest in reading constantly.
I like to think my freckles and rashes are only the phase we all go through. Or at least I am going through.
I like to think I have my mind, still, and the girl inside is holding on.
I like to think.
as a phase pass on by.
Illuminating trends and deep delirious thoughts,
harvest next to the collected dreams.
The neck elongated,
for a catch better tainted.
Mouthing a peripheral context,
to earn legs in the tribe.
Prayers needing substitution,
of another washed vision.
Tracing their defaults,
a mechanical faulty trials.
....................................
I like to think there is still an available rustic wooden shack waiting for me at the end of the light, reaching the edge of life.
I like to think I am not as daft, even without any interest in reading constantly.
I like to think my freckles and rashes are only the phase we all go through. Or at least I am going through.
I like to think I have my mind, still, and the girl inside is holding on.
I like to think.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
