Jumping through the currents,
she sings.
Of her paranoia and belief.
Forcing her thumbs,
to gesture love.
"Fly to me, my sweet serpents.
For you my love, I'll hinder"
Sands between her lips,
Crushed lies hanging off her cheeks.
She beg for nothing more than for you to speak.
Softly her hands deliver,
the long lasting sensation,
Of her burning visions.
Troubles of Memories
For the past few years, I had found myself in recurring flashbacks of the past.
Conversations between old friends stir up some old stories of my bad behaviour. It was nothing like a heist or teenage vengeance. It was more of a stretch of events that sums up my school's life.
They swear I would have become a bandit if I hadn't skip Grade 4.
Meh I miss kicking people's body parts. Pretty sure they miss my kicks too. Haa (_______)
Conversations between old friends stir up some old stories of my bad behaviour. It was nothing like a heist or teenage vengeance. It was more of a stretch of events that sums up my school's life.
They swear I would have become a bandit if I hadn't skip Grade 4.
Meh I miss kicking people's body parts. Pretty sure they miss my kicks too. Haa (_______)
Cruising Down the Road
“The wheels are faster than your hands”.
It is my first time driving. It is fun considering the bad essence that decorates the time during my lesson. As always, I land a spot in earning a well-craze exuberant man. He is fantastic, though his constant companion of chattering words that subsequently leads to dizziness fails to keep me on my two feet.
I guess it is a bad move to throw away the horse shoe since I have rapidly sinks myself into a deep dark hole.
The lesson starts off brilliantly, with a broken car and non-working air conditioner. However, all is good for me since the electrifying thoughts of driving make me feel like I am now much closer in becoming an adult. Yeah, driving will give me the power of excitement in cursing when stuck in traffics. (?)
When we arrive at the driving field, anxiety and freakish smiles kick in. After two gruelling hours of fears of running over the dog and immediate effects of u-turning for few minutes, the instructor delivers a manic idea, which is for me to drive on the busy roads if I manage to glue myself to the next lessons tomorrow. Mind you, the roads around my place are extremely intense and the people aren’t so ethical in driving.
Nonetheless, as happy as I did after the whole thing, my head beats me on raving and rubbing it off to my friend, who is not old enough to join me on this trip to road-kills. Countless more hours before I get to put my alluring skills to use. Or crying skill since that would make things much easier.
It is my first time driving. It is fun considering the bad essence that decorates the time during my lesson. As always, I land a spot in earning a well-craze exuberant man. He is fantastic, though his constant companion of chattering words that subsequently leads to dizziness fails to keep me on my two feet.
I guess it is a bad move to throw away the horse shoe since I have rapidly sinks myself into a deep dark hole.
The lesson starts off brilliantly, with a broken car and non-working air conditioner. However, all is good for me since the electrifying thoughts of driving make me feel like I am now much closer in becoming an adult. Yeah, driving will give me the power of excitement in cursing when stuck in traffics. (?)
When we arrive at the driving field, anxiety and freakish smiles kick in. After two gruelling hours of fears of running over the dog and immediate effects of u-turning for few minutes, the instructor delivers a manic idea, which is for me to drive on the busy roads if I manage to glue myself to the next lessons tomorrow. Mind you, the roads around my place are extremely intense and the people aren’t so ethical in driving.
Nonetheless, as happy as I did after the whole thing, my head beats me on raving and rubbing it off to my friend, who is not old enough to join me on this trip to road-kills. Countless more hours before I get to put my alluring skills to use. Or crying skill since that would make things much easier.
Coloured Reasoning is for Fools.
First of all, I believe I owe you an apology for not trying to comply with your basis of how we should live. Regret is something I have been taught to not agree to. Though, your lack of enthusiasm has pushed my limit of tolerance. Personally, I couldn’t give a slight of attention whenever you find spaces in mocking me. But when the false accusation you’ve thrown to me on being an arrogant and self-explanatory person is an absolute nightmare.
Basically, you are telling me, for me to be good in whatever it is I’m doing and wish to do, I have to know each and every person who had stamped the word ‘Best’ onto their forehead. I do admit I know nothing about whatever it is I am doing, but that’s only because I choose to not know it. The names you’ve mouth to me means nothing.
For me to be a good writer, I don’t need to know good writers. For me to be a good music enthusiast, I don’t need to know the legends of bands. For me to be a better being, I don’t need to look up to anyone. Call me whatever you will, because all the names you’ve hanged around your neck serve me no need to be an emulator.
So pardon me for being a failure in accompanying your vision of a good admirer of past time activities. My insufficiencies of participation in your imaginary success are an amazing source of anecdote. Yes, I only know Pushkin accidentally when I was actually looking for Pichushkin. Hey, nobody ever inform me on learning about other writers before you start writing.
Thus, all I can tell you is fuck off because you and your ‘amazing’ people know nothing about living my own life. I was once told, to be a writer, you should understand your own life as your words depicts your past, present, future and fantasies. Yeah maybe I’ve been taking advice from nut crackers, nevertheless I for one had received an almost perfect score in writing paper WITH spelling errors and inadequacy of fancy words and you didn’t. I hate to brag but none of your masters help me getting that.
As something to show you how much of a young insolent and petulant tosser you are, get a mirror. Trust me, it’ll help.
P.S: When you were bragging about how much you know about Mr. Shankly, though I know a little about him, it doesn’t take me a wikipedia page or a trip to library to know his first name in an instance. I actually have no clue what it really is but my ignorant brain works hard to recall what I had heard in my past dull years of my life.
Basically, you are telling me, for me to be good in whatever it is I’m doing and wish to do, I have to know each and every person who had stamped the word ‘Best’ onto their forehead. I do admit I know nothing about whatever it is I am doing, but that’s only because I choose to not know it. The names you’ve mouth to me means nothing.
For me to be a good writer, I don’t need to know good writers. For me to be a good music enthusiast, I don’t need to know the legends of bands. For me to be a better being, I don’t need to look up to anyone. Call me whatever you will, because all the names you’ve hanged around your neck serve me no need to be an emulator.
So pardon me for being a failure in accompanying your vision of a good admirer of past time activities. My insufficiencies of participation in your imaginary success are an amazing source of anecdote. Yes, I only know Pushkin accidentally when I was actually looking for Pichushkin. Hey, nobody ever inform me on learning about other writers before you start writing.
Thus, all I can tell you is fuck off because you and your ‘amazing’ people know nothing about living my own life. I was once told, to be a writer, you should understand your own life as your words depicts your past, present, future and fantasies. Yeah maybe I’ve been taking advice from nut crackers, nevertheless I for one had received an almost perfect score in writing paper WITH spelling errors and inadequacy of fancy words and you didn’t. I hate to brag but none of your masters help me getting that.
As something to show you how much of a young insolent and petulant tosser you are, get a mirror. Trust me, it’ll help.
P.S: When you were bragging about how much you know about Mr. Shankly, though I know a little about him, it doesn’t take me a wikipedia page or a trip to library to know his first name in an instance. I actually have no clue what it really is but my ignorant brain works hard to recall what I had heard in my past dull years of my life.
Placies? Playsees?
Poor guy, having to sound like a proper idiot saying all those things. Half of the time, I don't even have a clue on what exactly he is saying. Guess that's the reason the Castrol people put up a tiny bit of subtitles so that people aren't lost.
Heh the flashing money card made him forget that people are poking fun at him for this. Well, he might say 'I'm rich so who cares'. If he does have that in his mind, he is a proper idiot.
As good as you are in football or anything that you do, if you don't have self-respect, don't bother shoving in people's face.
Sick.
My dream of becoming a mini mullen was crushed by a mom. Yeah isn't fun being the only child with no moustache. She was terrified on the idea of me joining every sports boys are into. Heh I wish she had popped out another one so I can play sports.
A friend was teasing me about how much I'm interested in skateboard. 'It's all physics and since you hate physics, you should hate skateboarding'. Fair enough, except you don't need to calculate how a trick may be performed.
It's funny how physics rule every single shit. It's even funnier how much of a horrid subject it is.
World ______ Day
It seems that we are always in need of other's instruction.
World's Aids Day, Hungers Day, Pink Ribbon, Mother's Day, and other craps they can think of. Complying to these kind of programmes is a new way of life, for some. The only reason I buy cards during one of the 'Days' is because my loves would be expecting one from me. A sense of pride when joining the charade is not an accomplishment for me. I buy stuffs for my loves quite often, set aside the luxury. When a person bust their neck for money to get gifts, it's a sign your loves worth a shit.
Frankly, I couldn't give a shit during one of these days (Hungers, bla bla bla) since they are ruled by 'important people' anyway. Leonardo whateverhisnameis for the 11th hour, really? I bet those polar bears are kicking your ice-face for the green space you took in landing your cheap butt every night. Yeah 10 rooms for a person will save the nature. The probability of others to gag is much higher than you think when having to bear that horrid idea of saving the earth.
Ms. Jolie letsstealothershusband, ambassador of UN? Well, UN is not a real organization but still. How would you feel if a slag comes to you, sobbing to death to save you from dying ends up in high-end stores to get a cloth to wipe her magnetic skin. I do lavish myself sometime but I don't tell everyone to save a penny so there'll be another life on the other side of the world.
Why can't we do it ourselves. Send people who could care less of fame and fortune in helping those in needs. Those who are able to get in the mud to pull golds for others. 'With fame, people listens and follows you' applies to those absent-minded donkeys. Did you know almost 80% of money donated didn't reach te places where it should have. So much for 'Your penny will save a life'. One day, in god's willing, I'll do anything I can to help those who failed to receives the privilages I have. Though, I will not give them monies blindly. Again almost 92.3% of those in poor countries wait for foods to land on their open laps. I survived 50 RM every weeks with extras, so why can't others?
I know people are dying for lack of foods and cares, however hypocrisy does not saves lives.
World's Aids Day, Hungers Day, Pink Ribbon, Mother's Day, and other craps they can think of. Complying to these kind of programmes is a new way of life, for some. The only reason I buy cards during one of the 'Days' is because my loves would be expecting one from me. A sense of pride when joining the charade is not an accomplishment for me. I buy stuffs for my loves quite often, set aside the luxury. When a person bust their neck for money to get gifts, it's a sign your loves worth a shit.
Frankly, I couldn't give a shit during one of these days (Hungers, bla bla bla) since they are ruled by 'important people' anyway. Leonardo whateverhisnameis for the 11th hour, really? I bet those polar bears are kicking your ice-face for the green space you took in landing your cheap butt every night. Yeah 10 rooms for a person will save the nature. The probability of others to gag is much higher than you think when having to bear that horrid idea of saving the earth.
Ms. Jolie letsstealothershusband, ambassador of UN? Well, UN is not a real organization but still. How would you feel if a slag comes to you, sobbing to death to save you from dying ends up in high-end stores to get a cloth to wipe her magnetic skin. I do lavish myself sometime but I don't tell everyone to save a penny so there'll be another life on the other side of the world.
Why can't we do it ourselves. Send people who could care less of fame and fortune in helping those in needs. Those who are able to get in the mud to pull golds for others. 'With fame, people listens and follows you' applies to those absent-minded donkeys. Did you know almost 80% of money donated didn't reach te places where it should have. So much for 'Your penny will save a life'. One day, in god's willing, I'll do anything I can to help those who failed to receives the privilages I have. Though, I will not give them monies blindly. Again almost 92.3% of those in poor countries wait for foods to land on their open laps. I survived 50 RM every weeks with extras, so why can't others?
I know people are dying for lack of foods and cares, however hypocrisy does not saves lives.
Slow Motion, See Me Let Go
It is a wonder how well I work and enjoy my own company after hours. A day was well spent re-organizing my library/antiqueshop/museum. It's remarkably clean now, though in the eyes of those rarely in the room, it is the same, funky smelled, messy, child-like room. My room could probably be (at this very moment) the most incredible thing I have achieved.
A lava lamp is now my new trophy. It was someone else's lamp and apparently he grew out of it. He knew I enjoy such antiquated objects, thus it being the light of my life. (?) Funny how most of my collections used to another's posessions. The chain between me and the freaky people amazes me. Am I bound to hold the lives of others, to dwell in their past, creates memories they had failed?
Well off without strings attach. On my own two wobbly feet. Imagining the day I stop imagine.
A lava lamp is now my new trophy. It was someone else's lamp and apparently he grew out of it. He knew I enjoy such antiquated objects, thus it being the light of my life. (?) Funny how most of my collections used to another's posessions. The chain between me and the freaky people amazes me. Am I bound to hold the lives of others, to dwell in their past, creates memories they had failed?
Well off without strings attach. On my own two wobbly feet. Imagining the day I stop imagine.
In The Name of...
Purpose of life is something I have yet to discover. Guess now I'll be writing down 'Having a private library' as one of my life purpose.Ironically, I have always hated the library (except those with wheels :) )
It is almost terrifying how I almost cry reading this book. Obviously, it is a well-written book, Russian author. They are one of my favourites. Anna Petrovna, Alexander Pushkin (However his name is correctly spelled) and of course Nabokov. The sad thing is, my mum would not let me buy books of military history or anything akin to it. What I am reading now is the product of my sneaky tactics and horrible squeaky smile. Next, Prague: In The Shadow of Swastika. Hopefully I can get hold of it and the Tsars.
Russians have pretty intriguing history, and of course the inhabitants. Never been there but would love to. Do the russians call St. Petersburg, Leningrad still. I'd be delighted to have a city named after me, in a weird twisted way. I guess Russians powered man loved the idea of people spitting their names out, regardless whether if it's for good or not. One thing that I can look up to those not so kind people is, they realized they will never be half as good as anything we'd dream of so why the fuck bother on pleasing shit faces. Never in my mind believe because of that we should all be evil beings.
Purpose of life, is evidently a myth. There'll never be A purpose of life since we are all greedy people. The certainty of that is unworthy of the world's attention but I may not be the only one to regard it as a fact. A pessimist I may be but better than thinking we are all walking on flowered layered glass and inhaling air of sweet scent of lives. Hmm...
" Our singing was not hypocritical for we were singing out our happiness at being alive. Happiness at being born contrary to all the possibilities calculated by men of common sense and in contempt of all the wars invented by makers of the History. Happiness at being born, living and knowing that there is nothing better in this world than the measued words of a woman with red hands seated in a room perfumed with the snowy chill of linen covered in hoar-frost. In the name of what... "
- Words from Confessions of a Lapsed Standard-Bearer
It is almost terrifying how I almost cry reading this book. Obviously, it is a well-written book, Russian author. They are one of my favourites. Anna Petrovna, Alexander Pushkin (However his name is correctly spelled) and of course Nabokov. The sad thing is, my mum would not let me buy books of military history or anything akin to it. What I am reading now is the product of my sneaky tactics and horrible squeaky smile. Next, Prague: In The Shadow of Swastika. Hopefully I can get hold of it and the Tsars.
Russians have pretty intriguing history, and of course the inhabitants. Never been there but would love to. Do the russians call St. Petersburg, Leningrad still. I'd be delighted to have a city named after me, in a weird twisted way. I guess Russians powered man loved the idea of people spitting their names out, regardless whether if it's for good or not. One thing that I can look up to those not so kind people is, they realized they will never be half as good as anything we'd dream of so why the fuck bother on pleasing shit faces. Never in my mind believe because of that we should all be evil beings.
Purpose of life, is evidently a myth. There'll never be A purpose of life since we are all greedy people. The certainty of that is unworthy of the world's attention but I may not be the only one to regard it as a fact. A pessimist I may be but better than thinking we are all walking on flowered layered glass and inhaling air of sweet scent of lives. Hmm...
" Our singing was not hypocritical for we were singing out our happiness at being alive. Happiness at being born contrary to all the possibilities calculated by men of common sense and in contempt of all the wars invented by makers of the History. Happiness at being born, living and knowing that there is nothing better in this world than the measued words of a woman with red hands seated in a room perfumed with the snowy chill of linen covered in hoar-frost. In the name of what... "
- Words from Confessions of a Lapsed Standard-Bearer
Fish sticks
Missing the time when we were within each other has brought up distinct emotions. Speeds of laughters you drew were one of your beauty. Though, you never believed me and often called me names akin to a lady in the loony bin, I love being with you.
When the sun was blazing, poking happily into my eyes, you stopped and wondered how was I feeling. Words nor grievances formed as you observed me. The thing, littlest thing that you do, stirred up my feelings. Long hard notes you wrote while I was floating in the water. Absurdity and nonsensical phrases. Put a smile on my face.
The times where we wasted our times drawing funny faces, flipping coins, will never be replaced. Your love for childish things made me realize you were with me ever since I had existed.
The terror you faced when we crash the problem gate.
The fear of being teased.
The caricature of your silly works.
Made me happy.
When the sun was blazing, poking happily into my eyes, you stopped and wondered how was I feeling. Words nor grievances formed as you observed me. The thing, littlest thing that you do, stirred up my feelings. Long hard notes you wrote while I was floating in the water. Absurdity and nonsensical phrases. Put a smile on my face.
The times where we wasted our times drawing funny faces, flipping coins, will never be replaced. Your love for childish things made me realize you were with me ever since I had existed.
The terror you faced when we crash the problem gate.
The fear of being teased.
The caricature of your silly works.
Made me happy.
To You, Friend.
One to a hundred.
How much is too much?
Friends.
It is a disease in each and every one of us.
Like Polio.
Except it sounded better.
Enemies.
Now that's something.
Like Fever.
Though, it has better ending.
Whoever reckons having lots of friends is a good thing,
Surely a tosser.
How much is too much?
Friends.
It is a disease in each and every one of us.
Like Polio.
Except it sounded better.
Enemies.
Now that's something.
Like Fever.
Though, it has better ending.
Whoever reckons having lots of friends is a good thing,
Surely a tosser.
For the world to see, How I breathe.
It's been fascinating.
To watch how people around you direct their fears.
I had joined their parade.
Starved myself with hopes.
I was painfully pleading for my guilt to leave me.
When they were struggling to call my name.
As faults were waiting for the final greet.
Stumbling, tearing and moaning.
Have I done enough to be with them?
To watch how people around you direct their fears.
I had joined their parade.
Starved myself with hopes.
I was painfully pleading for my guilt to leave me.
When they were struggling to call my name.
As faults were waiting for the final greet.
Stumbling, tearing and moaning.
Have I done enough to be with them?
I am no feminist.
But sometimes people made me speak like one.
A friend of mine used feminist as a synonym for slags or what most people call, a bitch.
Considering how ridiculous this whole feminism shit has become, I was happy to hear that.
Enough about Emmeline Pankhurst, it is quite obvious there is no one who has an acceptable ideology that could bring changes to the life of the saucers (Cups and saucers, thats what I used when saying male and female). Nevertheless, I have no interest in yapping about feminism as it is full of bull.
What I wish to write about is on sports. Why in the world is sport being divided between gender. Have you ever seen a football match with a mix of gender in a team? Why can't there be one?
This is where those above and sports meet each other. Those so-called feminists forgot about equality in active culture when they were in tears promoting their jokes. All they cared about was money and shits. That's why cups take them lightly. Take all the jokes in the world and you will find not even one that goes like 'That lady kicks like a viking!'. Though I have no knowledge on the amount of pressure vikings put on their foot in mesmerizing others in kicking objects. The point is, all the screaming about equality had silenced a part on being as strong as cups. It is apparent that saucers couldn't give a fuck in potraying themselves as a strong entity. Talk about equality.
I remember growing up, where I was the only one with no object under there which would results me being in pain whenever we had too much fun. I played sports with them, I kicked and shoved as hard as them. But then, reality kicked in and I was forced to enter into the world where wearing comfortable clothes is a sin. Yes, they made you feel like an alien especially when you are covered in scars. A shock ran through me and I knew I was doomed for life. No more praises for falling the 17th time.
The world I had entered has made me become a sissy. I would cry if I get a small cut, and think about the physical effects for the whole day. I worry about when dirts come crawling to me with a huge grin on their muddy faces. All these things... I blame you feminists. Oh now we have the power to be as good as men, lets put skeleton on covers of pointless magazines and kill all the fatties. Yes you idiots, that exactly what you did. Because of you, I worry about my weight. Because of you I use masks to make me look like what you had wanted me to look like. And you people call Hitler a bad man.
OK
Lets pause and laugh for a moment as I had digress from sport to Hitler. When his name comes up, that is the mark I am digressing.
Coming back to sports and people. I wish there would be no female cups or whatever fucks. I wish there would be, even a short amount of saucers, playing with the cups. In football, tennis, cricket and all the sports in the world. Where the name Sophie would come next after Steven. Where a lady gets a red card for diving.
Nonetheless, I want that so badly since I was once told I can't be in their team because I look like a girl. I don't blame the cups. Seeing all the saucers in the world, I understand and accept the tragedy upon my life. I want to change that, so next time, I can run with the balls..., no the ball and score like the cups.
AND
That my feminists friends, is what I call an equality.
A friend of mine used feminist as a synonym for slags or what most people call, a bitch.
Considering how ridiculous this whole feminism shit has become, I was happy to hear that.
Enough about Emmeline Pankhurst, it is quite obvious there is no one who has an acceptable ideology that could bring changes to the life of the saucers (Cups and saucers, thats what I used when saying male and female). Nevertheless, I have no interest in yapping about feminism as it is full of bull.
What I wish to write about is on sports. Why in the world is sport being divided between gender. Have you ever seen a football match with a mix of gender in a team? Why can't there be one?
This is where those above and sports meet each other. Those so-called feminists forgot about equality in active culture when they were in tears promoting their jokes. All they cared about was money and shits. That's why cups take them lightly. Take all the jokes in the world and you will find not even one that goes like 'That lady kicks like a viking!'. Though I have no knowledge on the amount of pressure vikings put on their foot in mesmerizing others in kicking objects. The point is, all the screaming about equality had silenced a part on being as strong as cups. It is apparent that saucers couldn't give a fuck in potraying themselves as a strong entity. Talk about equality.
I remember growing up, where I was the only one with no object under there which would results me being in pain whenever we had too much fun. I played sports with them, I kicked and shoved as hard as them. But then, reality kicked in and I was forced to enter into the world where wearing comfortable clothes is a sin. Yes, they made you feel like an alien especially when you are covered in scars. A shock ran through me and I knew I was doomed for life. No more praises for falling the 17th time.
The world I had entered has made me become a sissy. I would cry if I get a small cut, and think about the physical effects for the whole day. I worry about when dirts come crawling to me with a huge grin on their muddy faces. All these things... I blame you feminists. Oh now we have the power to be as good as men, lets put skeleton on covers of pointless magazines and kill all the fatties. Yes you idiots, that exactly what you did. Because of you, I worry about my weight. Because of you I use masks to make me look like what you had wanted me to look like. And you people call Hitler a bad man.
OK
Lets pause and laugh for a moment as I had digress from sport to Hitler. When his name comes up, that is the mark I am digressing.
Coming back to sports and people. I wish there would be no female cups or whatever fucks. I wish there would be, even a short amount of saucers, playing with the cups. In football, tennis, cricket and all the sports in the world. Where the name Sophie would come next after Steven. Where a lady gets a red card for diving.
Nonetheless, I want that so badly since I was once told I can't be in their team because I look like a girl. I don't blame the cups. Seeing all the saucers in the world, I understand and accept the tragedy upon my life. I want to change that, so next time, I can run with the balls..., no the ball and score like the cups.
AND
That my feminists friends, is what I call an equality.
Insanity On The Run.
To say hello and goodbye,
To stare into eyes.
To shake away the memories,
To tap the beat.
Frequent tune in to small talks,
Visionary shot of long lost thoughts.
Strap in the new shoes,
Gaze for another view.
To stare into eyes.
To shake away the memories,
To tap the beat.
Frequent tune in to small talks,
Visionary shot of long lost thoughts.
Strap in the new shoes,
Gaze for another view.
I Survived
The camping trip.
Hah to those who think I can't make it.
Well, to be honest, I was pleasantly shocked to have found myself all giddy during and after the trip. It was rather epic despite the fact that I was all alone in the platoon (no such thing as group, we go by platoon or unit bla bla bla). No leeches but tons of biting bugs. I didn't bother to eat that much as I was flowing in red, no good eating too much because of that.
Almost half of my body is aching, good thing my parents let me skip classes.
Need food and rest. Classes and books will trail my seconds and burn me.
Two more weeks till my final.
Cant.fail.or.I'll.die.
Hah to those who think I can't make it.
Well, to be honest, I was pleasantly shocked to have found myself all giddy during and after the trip. It was rather epic despite the fact that I was all alone in the platoon (no such thing as group, we go by platoon or unit bla bla bla). No leeches but tons of biting bugs. I didn't bother to eat that much as I was flowing in red, no good eating too much because of that.
Almost half of my body is aching, good thing my parents let me skip classes.
Need food and rest. Classes and books will trail my seconds and burn me.
Two more weeks till my final.
Cant.fail.or.I'll.die.
Appropriate?
I had asked Jack whether he owns an electrocuting (?) machine since his hair looked rather weird in such upward position. To make the question even more inappropriate, I accused him (in a polite manner) of having spending a large amount of money on hairgel.
Guess the question will never be answered as to the degree of how inappropriate it was. He's a twat anyway, a posh cunning-charming-tad adorable twat. Just when I had learn to dislike him, he grew stubbles. He can read my mind and he knows it. Fucking knob. You are not funny anyway.
No wonder why I never last in any relationship. Like they all said 'Sarcasm is part of your charm, which exactly what kills the bond'. (?)
Such manic world we are living eh? And tinkie winkie is a man with a handbag, get over it :[
Guess the question will never be answered as to the degree of how inappropriate it was. He's a twat anyway, a posh cunning-charming-tad adorable twat. Just when I had learn to dislike him, he grew stubbles. He can read my mind and he knows it. Fucking knob. You are not funny anyway.
No wonder why I never last in any relationship. Like they all said 'Sarcasm is part of your charm, which exactly what kills the bond'. (?)
Such manic world we are living eh? And tinkie winkie is a man with a handbag, get over it :[
All of Once
The passing of my being through your window,
has made me realized how far we had walked
From the start where our fingers touched,
to the end of our synchronized beats of hearts.
The smiles in the summer
The heats of the night
Bring me back to the past
When the love was bright.
When the sun goes down,
your eyes sunk.
While you took over my conscience,
you laughed.
Cold memories
Please freeze the time.
Ship me back
To where it begun.
.......................................................
I had to wait for a while to watch this film. Must say this was an epic scene. I never really listen to Roxy but this scene was briliant. The dancing and how it was in slow motion but her lips were in sync. Must've been fun doing it. :)
has made me realized how far we had walked
From the start where our fingers touched,
to the end of our synchronized beats of hearts.
The smiles in the summer
The heats of the night
Bring me back to the past
When the love was bright.
When the sun goes down,
your eyes sunk.
While you took over my conscience,
you laughed.
Cold memories
Please freeze the time.
Ship me back
To where it begun.
.......................................................
I had to wait for a while to watch this film. Must say this was an epic scene. I never really listen to Roxy but this scene was briliant. The dancing and how it was in slow motion but her lips were in sync. Must've been fun doing it. :)
Cheap Drinks
Made my kitchen feels like a brewing factory.
I hate the smell of beer. It stinks. Thanks to you, now the sink smells beer.
The air was waving when she left her last mark.
A step foward would pushed her behind.
To stay in position where a different season might be bruised.
From her every words.
And her every guilt.
I hate the smell of beer. It stinks. Thanks to you, now the sink smells beer.
The air was waving when she left her last mark.
A step foward would pushed her behind.
To stay in position where a different season might be bruised.
From her every words.
And her every guilt.
Carpet?
A beige one as your screensaver?
I am happy and content enough to like you, but this, it's a bit far too much.
I take weird photos but never a carpet.
Never has it occurred to me that it would made such ideal screensaver.
Maybe a wall, but carpet, no, just no.
I guess these kind of people made me feel that it is okay to grow older. They basically have gotten larger or funnier in the face, but everything else seemed the same as it was before. My teacher for instance, she reminded me of being the future me. Well, I would've been reminiscing this unless I am under the soil all this while. She sort of fit all the things that I want to be when I grow up. Excluding being a teacher, I would be happy if I will become more or less similar to her (as in when I am at the age she is at the moment).
Age is just a matter of numbers?
No, it is a matter of your progress.
It is not about being a pessimist, it's about getting real. Positive is not really a good thing. Not in a pregnancy test when you are seventeen, not for any medical tests (some, I believe). Being positive actually decreases your average amount of thoughts, and that might results in moronic behaviour. I won't budge in this one.
I am happy and content enough to like you, but this, it's a bit far too much.
I take weird photos but never a carpet.
Never has it occurred to me that it would made such ideal screensaver.
Maybe a wall, but carpet, no, just no.
I guess these kind of people made me feel that it is okay to grow older. They basically have gotten larger or funnier in the face, but everything else seemed the same as it was before. My teacher for instance, she reminded me of being the future me. Well, I would've been reminiscing this unless I am under the soil all this while. She sort of fit all the things that I want to be when I grow up. Excluding being a teacher, I would be happy if I will become more or less similar to her (as in when I am at the age she is at the moment).
Age is just a matter of numbers?
No, it is a matter of your progress.
It is not about being a pessimist, it's about getting real. Positive is not really a good thing. Not in a pregnancy test when you are seventeen, not for any medical tests (some, I believe). Being positive actually decreases your average amount of thoughts, and that might results in moronic behaviour. I won't budge in this one.
Cordially Invited to Taste The Cordial
Unexpected hat-trick from Benayoun.I couldn't stop eating junks.My new neighbour is a sorry-ass family who doesn't smile or talk to people.
His mental gallery has now denied any of my entry.
Failure to measure is not a problem.
I wish I still have him.
So I could talk about Medusa all day.
They breathe in vanity.
I choke myself on reality.
They chase fears to catch up with others.
And drank tears to adapt.
In situations far beyond grief.
Or adaptation below our dreams.
Making sense is a reckless behaviour.
A slight cut,
To make you understand.
That my mind and yours are not the same.
So pardon me with my inconsistencies.
And calamity of all sorts.
Lust for every moment.
Of which you would see my side.
To where my feelings for you subside.
That jukebox was your every needs.
Needing for me to exists.
In where your mouth speaks.
And your heart beats.
We were never within each other.
Though, we feel one another.
Distant emotions and careless devotion.
Longing for something,
Yearning for nothing.
If we could see each others eyes.
It wouldn't be pretty.
As we both would see the other self.
To where I'm praying for you.
Dreaming of you.
Your indefinite voice,
Your open thoughts.
Constructing these has made me feel empty.
Emptying the box to where I speak.
You will never find this as you has never exists.
This was a memory of which never lived.
His mental gallery has now denied any of my entry.
Failure to measure is not a problem.
I wish I still have him.
So I could talk about Medusa all day.
They breathe in vanity.
I choke myself on reality.
They chase fears to catch up with others.
And drank tears to adapt.
In situations far beyond grief.
Or adaptation below our dreams.
Making sense is a reckless behaviour.
A slight cut,
To make you understand.
That my mind and yours are not the same.
So pardon me with my inconsistencies.
And calamity of all sorts.
Lust for every moment.
Of which you would see my side.
To where my feelings for you subside.
That jukebox was your every needs.
Needing for me to exists.
In where your mouth speaks.
And your heart beats.
We were never within each other.
Though, we feel one another.
Distant emotions and careless devotion.
Longing for something,
Yearning for nothing.
If we could see each others eyes.
It wouldn't be pretty.
As we both would see the other self.
To where I'm praying for you.
Dreaming of you.
Your indefinite voice,
Your open thoughts.
Constructing these has made me feel empty.
Emptying the box to where I speak.
You will never find this as you has never exists.
This was a memory of which never lived.
Honesty is Not the Best Policy.
- You make friends cautiously and the friends you have are few and very close to you
- You need plenty of time alone in which to feed your Muse
- You are generally most comfortable in your own minds (which other, may have trouble deciphering)
- You tend to have a hard time with romance
How much more deeper can an internet 'observer' goes about saying. There are few others which I am too appalled to share it with. The internet constantly refused to let me down, especially when it comes to revealing things regarding myself. The word lazy, day-dreamer and such keep on repeating. Though I am actually intrigued by the statement of even if I don't draw or play an instrument, art and music play a big part in my life. Can't say it's pretty accurate since half of the time, I don't even notice on what's going on in my life.
In whatever way in may come, I should never leave the station as who knows where the bright number might takes me.
.........................................
The mind of her company
Glitters of joy, splashes of dismal.
From her, him and them.
To anticipate would potrays her insignificance.
A flick through the pages.
Of books and current news.
Provide nothing more than questions.
To why time has yet to progress.
Steps to where she stops.
To turn to the backdrop.
In witnessing the changes.
Of which has long gone.
Going back would suppress her thoughts.
On what she could have become.
Becoming her, him or them.
Buddy
'You've gotten grumpier and a tad bit mad now, whats happened?'
Really? Can I say I didn't notice that. Told ya' 09' is not really my year. Lack of intentional and nonsensical jokes and laughs have made it easier for others to evaluate me. It's almost like someone has been trying to screw off the child attached on me. Since nobody believed I am in Uni now, might as well be juvenile. You get away with being completely daft but at the same time, you pull some bad effects to your being.
It's like pulling teeth when dealing with situation involving your age-ing self. Scary how some referred to me as Luna Lovegood, the Looney in the Potter film. I did used Luna as username in CS a while back, wonder why I stopped playing. It was all fun and being a girl pretty much boost your reputation as gamer in the virtual world. I was invited to join others for numbers of time. I wasn't that good and I'm sure they'd noticed it. Still, I found joy in those silly little games. So much for kicking the bad habit, I'm on new unrealistic one now.
What's Your Feelings?
You're incomplete, I'm indifferent.
My lack of needs feed your attention.
Fill the gaps, attach our beings.
Let's not pretend, what's your feelings?
It's flattering how we could exhibit our emotions and feelings in all sorts of situation. Theoratically, humans are capable of enticing others in participating in the emotions fest. Though, I find it hard to believe most scientists. Half of the time, I find their works to be a solution to an excuse they have been trying to address in problems. Like OCD for people who can't stand grubby and dirty things or ADHD for kids who (unfortunately) slower than others. People works and thinks differently. It would be sad if we all think alike. Which is why sometimes I'm glad I don't really know people who compose words and thoughts like I do; not to give me pleasures in believing I am special. Don't want to be since special people are probably not even a human. Special is not a word I am looking for in fulfilling my life. The word 'special' appeals to obsessive and out of normality situation. Like special subject, referring to Aliens (which probably a joke). Lets not get into that shall we, won't ends peacefully.
Half (all) of the people who knows me, lamentably, knows nothing about me. For instance, my whole life has always evolve around sports and arts stuff which they were not aware of it. I grew up with boys who (obviously) take interest in sports. Since I was 6, on weekends, we would go to parks for frisbee, badminton and occasional football kick off. I joined the school track team when I got into the first grade and stayed till the 6th. Withal, the sportmanship in me did not stay long as I ditch the active side of me when I got into secondary school. By that time, I started to channel in my art side. Oblivious I was considering the fact that my mother never shared stories with me. She was in plays, dance recital and acted for University's club at some point. She, however was never interested in literature, musics and paintings. Nonetheless, I failed to disclose this traits at the early stage of my life, which on the other hand pleased me since I got to be the kid that I was. A (partially) wise man told me, 'Don't enjoy life in ways where you have to surrender to others publications of entertainment, thoughts and lifestyle'. I never really knew what he meant but my interpretation is to not study to much, party too much and bow down to musicians too much. Too much of everything can be lethal, and that could be validated by people who studies too much.
Mock me all you want, I'll never be as intelligent, as eloquent and as modern as you are, debarring the fact that you will never be as content as I am when living in a stage where others standard opinions are barred from entering others head, which does not make any sense at all but lets give way to me in not making any sense. I am happy to not know some dead guys opinions on the meaning of my hair colour or shits like that. I should make up stuff on that before uncovering their clarification on that particular matters. despite the fact that it will requires me to think logically (as in normally) often and how that would saddens me.
To me my 3rd position in the second last class is better than the 1st place of your first class morons. I think outside the pages and you people didn't. I don't want to be super smart anyway, since I never liked Einsteins' hairdo. Even he exclaim his thoughts are not based upon his intelligence but it is based on his curiosity. Howbeit (I felt like using this word since everyone I know loved using albeit, don't discriminate their relatives), by no means I am interested in Einstein because he seems odd to me. Way odd that I am capable in accepting it.
So, at this point, I can say I am happy no one really knows what exactly am I build upon. That would give them leverage in teasing me or taking an advantage upon me. Being the pessimist I am, I rather feel 'alone' than having 79 entities trailing my every pursuit.
.........................................
I need to stop shitting endlessly to the point an entry would be long since I know how much you hate it. Well, I don't write for you, not for anybody unless you or anyone else could accept the fact that the sending of the song 'Daniel' was not to charm you but it was meant to scare the fuck out of you. Despit your statement on how I should reduce my sense of excreting every sarcastic words I'm competant in spitting out, I can't. It might turn me into the next Jack Dee or Jimmy for that matter. So, pardon me for characterizing my bad qualities. If Kasabian actually calls for Banshie in their song, so can I, in no way relating to Banshie though.
Oh, I now realize, I am extensively productive in writing during minuit. (Haha)
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