Scribbles and scrawls, can't you tell me what it means? Words and arrows and names. What is your story?
Being happy for another is not hard to do. Empathy is often already built-in for the most of us. But do you think it's possible to feel happiness and sadness at the same time? I can.
Shaved things of a creature once alive, mix them together and tell me if you would eat it. Whats done is done, though it still means that I can feel its despair.
Would you run if you knew your legs would shatter? Would you swim if you know you would drown? I would.
At the end of the day, it's really what you do about things that matter.
20 November 2011
19 November 2011
Ache
With every heartbeat it feels like it is being choked. If there was an occasion a human heart needs to be held by a pair of hands, I'm almost certain this is how it would feel like.
It almost feels like a pair of hands are squeezing down on it every time I think and at times, it literally hurts. And when it hurts, it hurts very badly.
The good and bad about distractions is that they work, right up until they don't. Forced to see what is there when the clouds of dust has settled is disturbing, uncomfortable, hurtful.
If I had to think of reasons why I feel this pressure there is certainly more than one that comes to mind. But knowing the problem doesn't mean you can solve it, not all the time.
Yet at the end of the day if I were to find ways to push it away I would only regress. So do I walk towards a wall in hopes of going through or do I step back into the cold room that is the only sanity I know?
It almost feels like a pair of hands are squeezing down on it every time I think and at times, it literally hurts. And when it hurts, it hurts very badly.
The good and bad about distractions is that they work, right up until they don't. Forced to see what is there when the clouds of dust has settled is disturbing, uncomfortable, hurtful.
If I had to think of reasons why I feel this pressure there is certainly more than one that comes to mind. But knowing the problem doesn't mean you can solve it, not all the time.
Yet at the end of the day if I were to find ways to push it away I would only regress. So do I walk towards a wall in hopes of going through or do I step back into the cold room that is the only sanity I know?
18 November 2011
Flow
Bits of garbage every now and then, once accumulated, still has an affect. Care for a little while and take notice. The calm of it all is not where you need to be.
A leisurely stroll is all you would need, it isn't much. Not too much to ask for I'm sure?
Poke at them. Pick them up. Pull them apart. Clean it all away.
Everything would take time to flow but there is surely enough time to get yourself back onto the starting point. All you have to do is run.
And then just let it all flow and flow. You know as well as I that this is enjoyable. So scream not in fear but in delight. We're going for a ride.
A leisurely stroll is all you would need, it isn't much. Not too much to ask for I'm sure?
Poke at them. Pick them up. Pull them apart. Clean it all away.
Everything would take time to flow but there is surely enough time to get yourself back onto the starting point. All you have to do is run.
And then just let it all flow and flow. You know as well as I that this is enjoyable. So scream not in fear but in delight. We're going for a ride.
Drown
The warmth of what seems like a blanket around me. Fills me with just enough comfort to close my eyes and just sink into it. I am surrounded by it. So fluid, so soft, so, peaceful.
If you stayed long enough, you could see the scratches on my well polished thoughts. I am not unaware. I cannot be blamed for the lack of proper polishing tools.
The truth does not ever sting. It does not even so much as pinch you. The truth remains only as a fact, just sitting there, waiting to be heard, to be entertained.
If I will away the pain that chokes on my lungs, would it change the truth of the matter? I know I am willing, yet as it enters me, I feel like fabric is pushing itself past my nostrils. I feel so violated.
The thing about most games involving a partner is that it is likely to be troubling for one who is antisocial. It would not be considered silly, only troublesome. I know I have to do what I dislike, and so I do.
If instruments could be my friend, an orchestra has many a time shown me that they would not be happy. In my hands, they would sooner be played by dust than not. Restraint is my mercy.
The pleasure of just slipping away. It hooks onto you until you decide to just let it take you completely. It is beautiful. Just so beautiful.
If I could invite just one person to join me leave, who would it be? We come to this world alone and it is the same way we leave. Would it not be great if just one other could join you? The blankets wrap me inside and out. Everything fades fades fades.
If you stayed long enough, you could see the scratches on my well polished thoughts. I am not unaware. I cannot be blamed for the lack of proper polishing tools.
The truth does not ever sting. It does not even so much as pinch you. The truth remains only as a fact, just sitting there, waiting to be heard, to be entertained.
If I will away the pain that chokes on my lungs, would it change the truth of the matter? I know I am willing, yet as it enters me, I feel like fabric is pushing itself past my nostrils. I feel so violated.
The thing about most games involving a partner is that it is likely to be troubling for one who is antisocial. It would not be considered silly, only troublesome. I know I have to do what I dislike, and so I do.
If instruments could be my friend, an orchestra has many a time shown me that they would not be happy. In my hands, they would sooner be played by dust than not. Restraint is my mercy.
The pleasure of just slipping away. It hooks onto you until you decide to just let it take you completely. It is beautiful. Just so beautiful.
If I could invite just one person to join me leave, who would it be? We come to this world alone and it is the same way we leave. Would it not be great if just one other could join you? The blankets wrap me inside and out. Everything fades fades fades.
17 November 2011
Invited
The stars tonight are most definitely more than the norm. It has been a while since I could enjoy such a sight. I don't often celebrate but for such an occasion, it is really hard not to.
Your presence itself draws me in in a way that is much like trying to avoid watching a disaster unfolding. So irresistibly seductive. There is little that I would not help you with as long as you just asked.
Many a story we have shared tonight, of kings and slaves, trains and tracks, trees and fruits and firewood. Of deserts spanning far beyond the eyes could see. If there is a place much like what we have been speaking of, I would gladly join you on your journey.
Though I may not be much of a man of hard liquor, I seem to have found myself much enjoying single-malt whiskeys tonight. Taking only 2 shot within the space of an hour, it was no surprise I felt warm though still fairly lucid.
It was hard to reject a home invitation from a beauty such as yourself, though what was less than expected is your well categorically arranged dolls. Though many would have their attention drawn to the dolls themselves, there was most definitely a pattern of arrangement that is subtle, as well as complicated. If I had not placed much concentration I would have missed it for sure.
Starry skies and windy nights. Perfection. For a moment I was surprised that you have star gazing interests but your true reasons was more amusing than not. I won't deny my interest for the darker side of the world is not lacking.
Despite the silence and having only tea to keep me company, one can't deny that once you look past the dullness of the room, the limited stimuli that is left stands out vividly. The mild glow of everything else brings a sort of satisfaction that I can't seem to explain. It feels almost like living in an art piece.
I find some sadness in the fact that it was hard for you to create connections with others. I'm not one to speak of course but it affects me in a very deep sense. Almost like a longing to pull her into a blanket of my concern. I may not have much reasons to celebrate or even leave my home, but another visit would be very much considered.
Your presence itself draws me in in a way that is much like trying to avoid watching a disaster unfolding. So irresistibly seductive. There is little that I would not help you with as long as you just asked.
Many a story we have shared tonight, of kings and slaves, trains and tracks, trees and fruits and firewood. Of deserts spanning far beyond the eyes could see. If there is a place much like what we have been speaking of, I would gladly join you on your journey.
Though I may not be much of a man of hard liquor, I seem to have found myself much enjoying single-malt whiskeys tonight. Taking only 2 shot within the space of an hour, it was no surprise I felt warm though still fairly lucid.
It was hard to reject a home invitation from a beauty such as yourself, though what was less than expected is your well categorically arranged dolls. Though many would have their attention drawn to the dolls themselves, there was most definitely a pattern of arrangement that is subtle, as well as complicated. If I had not placed much concentration I would have missed it for sure.
Starry skies and windy nights. Perfection. For a moment I was surprised that you have star gazing interests but your true reasons was more amusing than not. I won't deny my interest for the darker side of the world is not lacking.
Despite the silence and having only tea to keep me company, one can't deny that once you look past the dullness of the room, the limited stimuli that is left stands out vividly. The mild glow of everything else brings a sort of satisfaction that I can't seem to explain. It feels almost like living in an art piece.
I find some sadness in the fact that it was hard for you to create connections with others. I'm not one to speak of course but it affects me in a very deep sense. Almost like a longing to pull her into a blanket of my concern. I may not have much reasons to celebrate or even leave my home, but another visit would be very much considered.
Seasoned
Slither your way into the abscess of my mind. I can feel it pulsing like a heartbeat from the great beyond.
If you slap me the in the face, I would punch you left right and center. Mercy is too much for the weak. I prefer to return the favour with interest.
Do you really need to ask my name? I am as insignificant to you as you are to me. Forget that which is pointless. Focus. Concentrate.
Fly across the skies and peek down below. Do you see the people crying themselves to sleep? Are you one of them? Don't lie to me.
If you ever asked me what I would do to you if I could do anything without consequence, I would tear you to pieces and eat you for breakfast lunch and dinner. Do try to temp me. All I need is that one chance to snap.
There is absolutely no reason to fear one who is as much of a cowards as myself. The sun would sooner freeze over than for me to have gained the courage to move at all.
Moss on a stone is only relevant if you are collecting moss. It is otherwise trivial. Leave it and get back to work.
To do things one thing at a time is a given in a task as demanding as this. But if you must, it is very much alright to multitask, so long as your efficiency is unaffected. If it does, it becomes my problem, and how I fix my problems is often unkind.
Never complain to me about your headaches, for they are good for you. Compliment them. Embrace them. Learn to accept them into your life.
Jump jump jump jump jump. Go from one place to another, and you will eventually find a place most suitable to call your home.
The human mind often reminds me of the innards of a creature. So very often processing. So very often at work.
I would think that once upon a time I would like to fly. I know now that I can't.
If you slap me the in the face, I would punch you left right and center. Mercy is too much for the weak. I prefer to return the favour with interest.
Do you really need to ask my name? I am as insignificant to you as you are to me. Forget that which is pointless. Focus. Concentrate.
Fly across the skies and peek down below. Do you see the people crying themselves to sleep? Are you one of them? Don't lie to me.
If you ever asked me what I would do to you if I could do anything without consequence, I would tear you to pieces and eat you for breakfast lunch and dinner. Do try to temp me. All I need is that one chance to snap.
There is absolutely no reason to fear one who is as much of a cowards as myself. The sun would sooner freeze over than for me to have gained the courage to move at all.
Moss on a stone is only relevant if you are collecting moss. It is otherwise trivial. Leave it and get back to work.
To do things one thing at a time is a given in a task as demanding as this. But if you must, it is very much alright to multitask, so long as your efficiency is unaffected. If it does, it becomes my problem, and how I fix my problems is often unkind.
Never complain to me about your headaches, for they are good for you. Compliment them. Embrace them. Learn to accept them into your life.
Jump jump jump jump jump. Go from one place to another, and you will eventually find a place most suitable to call your home.
The human mind often reminds me of the innards of a creature. So very often processing. So very often at work.
I would think that once upon a time I would like to fly. I know now that I can't.
My Sanity
Green grass once grew in these places. A wonderful meadow. A beautiful sky.
Everything reeks these days. The putrid smell that finds its way into your nostrils despite efforts to avoid it is most vexing. The grass, gone, leaving dirt and filth. The sky is black, lightning and thunder is the only weather ever forecasted.
This place used to be a place of serenity. It used to have a calm air about it that simply soothes the savage beast within. Everything about its beauty is in the past.
I used to think, if I had a potion to let me dream forever I would. But dreams turned to nightmares and nightmares were eventually all I had. It never really is about receiving what you wish for is it? Only ever receiving what you wished you would never have.
Take my hand and walk with me, even if we were to part ways eventually, everything else is unimportant, so please, please walk with me.
And for a while the grass grew, the clouds fade, and for the first time in a very long time, the sun shined onto my face, kissing my cheeks, its warmth radiated to the very core of my soul. Even for a while, bliss feels like eternity.
The fork on the road ahead looks menacing, unforgiving, even cruel. Please understand that I hold tightly onto your hands because I don't really want to let go, even though I know I have to. Please don't hate me for using you, despite your willingness to be used. Please please don't hate me.
Walking alone, I didn't look back. I didn't want to. I couldn't. Cause it hurts as it is. To see what could have been would hurt me more. I'm tired of being hurt. I'm tired of the pain I feel. It's so common it feels almost like a part of me, and I hate it. I absolutely hate it.
I can almost hear it as the madness descends. The sky is filled with thunder and lightning. Each strike throws up the carcasses that make the ground. Each and everyone of them stink more than the filth before. If I had anything in me I would throw up again.
In the end, I really can't stop myself from falling into my abyss of misery. Everything hurts. But sometimes, I can hear people speaking to me from the other side. I want to call out to them, I do, but my voice never comes out, not anymore.
Is it sad to think that I have learned to sit still in my own little world? Do you pity me? Please don't. If you can't stand to see me as I am, please don't so much as look at me. I don't need your pity, and I surely don't care for your disgust.
There is beauty in anything if you stare at it long enough. Up on my mountain of rotten things, I have learned to see the beauty in the wreckage. Just leave me here. I don't need your saving, not anymore.
Everything reeks these days. The putrid smell that finds its way into your nostrils despite efforts to avoid it is most vexing. The grass, gone, leaving dirt and filth. The sky is black, lightning and thunder is the only weather ever forecasted.
This place used to be a place of serenity. It used to have a calm air about it that simply soothes the savage beast within. Everything about its beauty is in the past.
I used to think, if I had a potion to let me dream forever I would. But dreams turned to nightmares and nightmares were eventually all I had. It never really is about receiving what you wish for is it? Only ever receiving what you wished you would never have.
Take my hand and walk with me, even if we were to part ways eventually, everything else is unimportant, so please, please walk with me.
And for a while the grass grew, the clouds fade, and for the first time in a very long time, the sun shined onto my face, kissing my cheeks, its warmth radiated to the very core of my soul. Even for a while, bliss feels like eternity.
The fork on the road ahead looks menacing, unforgiving, even cruel. Please understand that I hold tightly onto your hands because I don't really want to let go, even though I know I have to. Please don't hate me for using you, despite your willingness to be used. Please please don't hate me.
Walking alone, I didn't look back. I didn't want to. I couldn't. Cause it hurts as it is. To see what could have been would hurt me more. I'm tired of being hurt. I'm tired of the pain I feel. It's so common it feels almost like a part of me, and I hate it. I absolutely hate it.
I can almost hear it as the madness descends. The sky is filled with thunder and lightning. Each strike throws up the carcasses that make the ground. Each and everyone of them stink more than the filth before. If I had anything in me I would throw up again.
In the end, I really can't stop myself from falling into my abyss of misery. Everything hurts. But sometimes, I can hear people speaking to me from the other side. I want to call out to them, I do, but my voice never comes out, not anymore.
Is it sad to think that I have learned to sit still in my own little world? Do you pity me? Please don't. If you can't stand to see me as I am, please don't so much as look at me. I don't need your pity, and I surely don't care for your disgust.
There is beauty in anything if you stare at it long enough. Up on my mountain of rotten things, I have learned to see the beauty in the wreckage. Just leave me here. I don't need your saving, not anymore.
16 November 2011
Sugar Glass
Powdered glass set on a plate set on a table set in front of me. How sweet it seems as it reminds me of sugar.
Does it disturb you that so much blood can come out from an orifice? I almost feel full from my own blood alone.
My arms still hurts more than my mouth and tongue. And they said the tongue was the most sensitive organ.
I'm sure water would sting, but alcohol? Really?
I won't deny my memory for things of the past remain as fuzzy as ever. I simply do not bother to recall things as much as I used to anymore.
Do you remember the empty conversations we always had? We used to think the days would never end.
I find it pretty to think that if I speak now, a pool of blood would soon form on the floor. Though I think, you almost enjoy cleaning up after me at this point.
I don't think I'd die yet. Not so soon, not now.
But if I ever do, please don't miss me. We'd meet soon after I'm sure.
Does it disturb you that so much blood can come out from an orifice? I almost feel full from my own blood alone.
My arms still hurts more than my mouth and tongue. And they said the tongue was the most sensitive organ.
I'm sure water would sting, but alcohol? Really?
I won't deny my memory for things of the past remain as fuzzy as ever. I simply do not bother to recall things as much as I used to anymore.
Do you remember the empty conversations we always had? We used to think the days would never end.
I find it pretty to think that if I speak now, a pool of blood would soon form on the floor. Though I think, you almost enjoy cleaning up after me at this point.
I don't think I'd die yet. Not so soon, not now.
But if I ever do, please don't miss me. We'd meet soon after I'm sure.
12 November 2011
Run
Run run run run run run. Forget the little things. Let it not bother you. Distractions will be the death of you, just keep running running running.
Everything is trivial, irrelevant, pointless. As long as you can run, you can survive. Your feet is made for you to run run run run run.
Don't ask why. Don't think about what was and what could be. Don't wonder what it is you dread. Just run.
It is not the purpose of life to guide. Its purpose is only itself, so keep running. Just keep running.
The higher you fly, the harder you fall. Just stay on the ground and run run run run run.
If people try to stop you ignore them. If people ask why is it you run, tell them you have to. If people question your sanity, tell them running is the only way you stay sane.
Watch them all as they fall in line, so predictable, so boring. But not you. You run. And you keep on running.
If there ever comes a day you feet breaks beneath you, don't cry. Your sanity may slip away, but know that if it does, someone else will receive it. And I will once again tell them to run run run run run.
Everything is trivial, irrelevant, pointless. As long as you can run, you can survive. Your feet is made for you to run run run run run.
Don't ask why. Don't think about what was and what could be. Don't wonder what it is you dread. Just run.
It is not the purpose of life to guide. Its purpose is only itself, so keep running. Just keep running.
The higher you fly, the harder you fall. Just stay on the ground and run run run run run.
If people try to stop you ignore them. If people ask why is it you run, tell them you have to. If people question your sanity, tell them running is the only way you stay sane.
Watch them all as they fall in line, so predictable, so boring. But not you. You run. And you keep on running.
If there ever comes a day you feet breaks beneath you, don't cry. Your sanity may slip away, but know that if it does, someone else will receive it. And I will once again tell them to run run run run run.
07 November 2011
Tea Party
Oh how sweet the taste of sin upon my lips. Stay a while and join me. Sit down, chat for a while. The night is still young.
One two tree four five six seven. How on earth did a plant get into my list of numbers? I smell firewood. Help me with this.
I want to breath helium and laugh to death with a funny voice. Join me. I have more than enough helium. We could seal off a room and just laugh our lives away.
Let's take a train to a land where angels weep and devils cry. Where the sun never sets and the moon smiles upon us. Where the desert sand drowns our toes like a fuzzy carpet. Where the air is thick with fumes of volcanic gases. Where plants are only seen to be dead or dying. Let's join our hands and walk down the road of time and look for the fruit which bears only once a hundred years. If it isn't there, let us wait together under its tree, hand in hand, head against head. shoulder against shoulder. We could sleep until its flowers bloom and bears its fruit once more.
Are you enjoying your drink? It would be a shame if it is not to your tastes. Would you like to have something else? What about some peanuts? You shouldn't be so silent. Let us retire to my home. You can meet the other inhabitants. We could have some tea. It would do you some good.
Do you not like its porcelain skin? Its laces, its hair? Beautiful are they not? How graceful the skill that is required to carve such an elegant character.
I know the balcony is dull. But if you look through a telescope, you can see the poor sods jumping to their deaths every now and then. I got this place specifically for this reason. Everything else, I'm sure you've notice, is as dull as can be.
Sorry for the lack of sugar. I stand by principle to never have sugar in my tea.
Thank you for appreciating the joy of silence. It greatly appeals to me to have silence as company once in a while.
Smile for me once more before you leave. Do tell if you are visiting again. It would be nice to see a face I have once seen before.
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