There are just some things that I just can't overcome
No matter how many times I tried, they won't go away
Every time they start to fade, they come back doubly vibrant,
Somehow, doubly conscious, doubly present.
December 31, 2012
December 18, 2012
Heart Matters
I feel like only my heart has remain static
While everyone else's moved on without me
The jokes I am laughing at, ones I would five years ago,
Are met with a silent smile and I'm crestfallen inside.
While everyone else's moved on without me
The jokes I am laughing at, ones I would five years ago,
Are met with a silent smile and I'm crestfallen inside.
December 17, 2012
My Very Expensive Piece of Paper!
 |
| It finally came in the mail! I think I am, ultimately, proud of it, even though I have said before that I wasn't. |
Why?
For I might as well be tossing my everything into the ocean,
Because all that has transpired is the same act
And I keep wondering to myself, how I wound up here in the first place
How did I, how can I, set myself up for such disappointed hopes?
Because all that has transpired is the same act
And I keep wondering to myself, how I wound up here in the first place
How did I, how can I, set myself up for such disappointed hopes?
December 16, 2012
Have a Very Holly, Jolly Birdy Christmas!
 |
| The arduous task of scaling the Christmas tree so we can top it with a star, even though Rogue has wings... Sleepy Koala has the toughest job, acting as anchor. >.> |
 |
| Now with a BURST of colour! |
 |
| We gotta wrap those giftz, yo! |
 |
| The bomb ornament was tjoe and Rogue's idea. -__- But I do like the 12 seconds left suggestion. Good job guys. |
December 13, 2012
My First Cleverbot Convo.
December 12, 2012
Feature!
Something different and a first on me blog. :)
*
.JPG) |
| Look at this awesome piece of work that my awesome friend Rogue made. :O |
 |
| But I broke through the matrix and found that he's actually here. O_O |
December 11, 2012
The Infamous Jellyfish Dance
So embarrassing, but it's all in good fun. Mmmhm. Lol.
This is the legitimate jellyfish dance because I am wearing the poofy shirt.
If I want to do an impromptu jellyfish dance, I just flail my arms and squiggle from side-to-side. >.>
December 9, 2012
I Can Taste It in the Air!
 |
| Apple pie! |
 |
| My tree! With a makeshift star, outdoor icicle lights and an ornament that I made when I was 9. Lol. Oh lookie, there's ME! |
Burst
My tears are my words
Wanting to be spoken but never are,
And I am overwhelmed
By their sheer power
Pressuring, Threatening
To suffocate, to drown me.
And still the silence remains
Forever a struggle and a barrier
And that's when they find another way.
They are bursting at the seams of my eyes
Pushing through and racing down my face
At a speed and a number, uncountable.
They are the words I am not able to say.
Wanting to be spoken but never are,
And I am overwhelmed
By their sheer power
Pressuring, Threatening
To suffocate, to drown me.
And still the silence remains
Forever a struggle and a barrier
And that's when they find another way.
They are bursting at the seams of my eyes
Pushing through and racing down my face
At a speed and a number, uncountable.
They are the words I am not able to say.
December 5, 2012
December 2, 2012
For Giggles
 | ||
| One of my favourite activities in the Thief games -- stacking dead bodies. >.> (May or may not have killed people just for doing this. Actually I think two of them in there are just knocked unconscious. *wink*) :D But alas, they slid off one another before I could find the screenshot button. |
November 23, 2012
Gap
Afraid of sleep, afraid of dreams
Afraid of the silence before I fall asleep
Where I give into the allure
Of my endless workings of scenarios
That will never happen.
Afraid of the silence before I fall asleep
Where I give into the allure
Of my endless workings of scenarios
That will never happen.
November 17, 2012
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Fog
I wake up amidst a wreckage
My eyes covered by wind-swept hair
My head hurts and I'm confused
For I don't know how I ended up here
I wobble as I stand to look around
The world looked like a storm danced on by
And I am as lonesome as anyone can be
As a survivor of love's rampage, and I sigh
I walk around, trying to salvage what I can
Trying to scavenge for deeper meanings
In your words and gestures
So I can make sense of these feelings
I wait for any sign of rescue
But fog descends before my sight
And I search around blindly for stability
In hopes of grabbing the hands of my knight
I wonder loudly to myself
If I'll ever find my way through or out
As light turns into night, I close my eyes
Knowing these doubts and him I'll dream about.
My eyes covered by wind-swept hair
My head hurts and I'm confused
For I don't know how I ended up here
I wobble as I stand to look around
The world looked like a storm danced on by
And I am as lonesome as anyone can be
As a survivor of love's rampage, and I sigh
I walk around, trying to salvage what I can
Trying to scavenge for deeper meanings
In your words and gestures
So I can make sense of these feelings
I wait for any sign of rescue
But fog descends before my sight
And I search around blindly for stability
In hopes of grabbing the hands of my knight
I wonder loudly to myself
If I'll ever find my way through or out
As light turns into night, I close my eyes
Knowing these doubts and him I'll dream about.
November 10, 2012
I Just Want
The internal flames roared
Tearing up my insides
Wanting to burn it all down
The rage, the blood,
The despair, the desire,
The object, the person,
A whirlpool of fumes
There is just too much love
That I want to profess
And even such things
Such lovely and delightful things
Can be heavy on the heart,
So heavy on the heart.
Tearing up my insides
Wanting to burn it all down
The rage, the blood,
The despair, the desire,
The object, the person,
A whirlpool of fumes
There is just too much love
That I want to profess
And even such things
Such lovely and delightful things
Can be heavy on the heart,
So heavy on the heart.
November 7, 2012
November 5, 2012
An Excerpt from "The Name of the Wind"
The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss
Prologue
A Silence of Three Parts
It was night again. The Waystone Inn lay in silence, and it was a silence of three parts.
The most obvious part was a hollow, echoing quiet, made by things that were lacking. If there had been a wind it would have sighed through the trees, set the inn's sign creaking on its hooks, and brushed the silence down the road like trailing autumn leaves. If there had been a crowd, even a handful of men inside the inn, they would have filled the silence with conversation and laughter, the clatter and clamor one expects from a drinking house during the dark hours of night. If there had been music... but no, of course there was no music. In fact there were none of these things, and so the silence remained.
Inside the Waystone a pair of men huddled at one corner of the bar. They drank with quiet determination, avoiding serious discussions of troubling news. In doing this they added a small, sullen silence to the larger, hollow one. It made an alloy of sorts, a counterpoint.
The third silence was not an easy thing to notice. If you listened for an hour, you might begin to feel it in the wooden floor underfoot and in the rough, splintering barrels behind the bar. It was in the weight of the black stone hearth that held the heat of a long dead fire. It was in the slow back and forth of a white linen cloth rubbing along the grain of the bar. And it was in the hands of the man who stood there, polishing a stretch of mahogany that already gleamed in the lamplight.
The man had true-red hair, red as flame. His eyes were dark and distant, and he moved with the subtle certainty that comes from knowing many things.
The Waystone was his, just as the third silence was his. This was appropriate, as it was the greatest silence of the three, wrapping the others inside itself. It was deep and wide as autumn's ending. It was heavy as a great river-smooth stone. It was the patient, cut-flower sound of a man who is waiting to die.
*
I simply cannot emphasize enough, how sublime and delicious this book is. I was about a third way in in my last read, but I feel like I should start over from the beginning again. It would be my third time going on this adventure. You'd think that I would've read this book an uncountable amount of times already, but no. It's not that I don't want to, but the taste of it is, if I may say so, everlasting. The plot may get a little fuzzy, but the colours, the heat, remain. Also, it's a dark, heavy book. One you carry in your mind and heart forever. Hauntingly lovely. Haha, everytime I open the book, and read the words, I snuggle the book up to my chest and go "Gosh, this is ineffably good."
November 3, 2012
Caesura
You are in these lines
Weaving your presence
In between each letter
And there you are
In each pause
In my mind
As I try to write down
Each breath taken with you.
Weaving your presence
In between each letter
And there you are
In each pause
In my mind
As I try to write down
Each breath taken with you.
November 2, 2012
October 31, 2012
The Same Day, the Past Six Years
 |
| 2012: Evelyn Salt. Must add a creepy, ghostly camwh*re pic here. Lol. |
 |
| Hehehehe. I can't help it. ;__; Lol. |
 |
| The outfit. Oops, seemed to have messed up the picture orientation, lol. I totally had to Photoshop the buttons off of that jacket... I couldn't go out this year and get stuff so I had to work with what I have in my closet... |
 |
| This is probably a mistake on my part, doing a side-by-side comparison, lol. |
 | ||
| 2011: Wichita from Zombieland. |
 |
| 2010: Part II - As Jane Patrick, the female Patrick Jane (The Mentalist). |
 | ||
| 2010: Part I - Psyche. (There were 2 parts because I couldn't decide which to dress up as.) |
 |
| 2009: Lana Croft, Lara's cousin from the Orient. |
 |
| 2008: A Magician's Bunneh. No, I am not pooping in the right picture... >.> |
 |
| 2007: I be a gangsta. |
October 29, 2012
Fractum
"I am broken here," she said as she pointed to her chest,
"And I am broken here," she then pointed to her head
"Because these two organs are the control centres
To the rest of my body, I am broken everywhere."
"And I am broken here," she then pointed to her head
"Because these two organs are the control centres
To the rest of my body, I am broken everywhere."
October 27, 2012
Raw
Your one single disapproval
Can deflate my entire being
And there is good reason for it
Because to me, you are everything
And I love you more than you'll ever know
Though those words have been spoken before
By poets and singers and lovers and even laymen,
I will say them forever with unchanging force
For I could not feel this way without you
Perhaps I hid too much of myself from you
For I hated people knowing my weaknesses
For I could not simply tell you how much I love
And it has always been this way and maybe will always be
So you go and fill my silences with your own thoughts and whispers
Thinking my silence means consent and indifference
And I somehow fooled myself into believing them to be true
When I feel completely the opposite of the emotions you cloaked me with
When I have not said those things you put in my mouth
You mistaken my pat on the back as a stab
And you took out your own knife and stabbed me
If you had loved me as you said, where did this blade come from?
And I'll never comprehend as I lie on the ground
Drinking the pool of blood around me to survive
And I drain out the same blood I drank, and it goes on like this
For so long, I can no longer recall the passing of days
I wonder when it will end
I wonder if it'll be my end
Days pass and the sun occasionally shined
I sit up gingerly, afraid of opening the delicate wound
And it hurts if I move too quickly
And I sit there, mindlessly silent, afraid of stirring up
A storm with my tainted thoughts and feelings
And I sigh gently at the wound, knowing I'll always be reminded of it
I'll always be reminded of it
Even when I'm starting to smile again
I'll always be reminded of it
And I no longer have the control
I can't hold it in anymore
I hated to cry, I can't cry
In front of others, in front of you
But I do now and I can't help it
I have no more strength to hold up the wall
So easily crumbled, tattered smiles
The realization that I haven't been happy since before that time
This last piece to glue onto the shattered vase, causes the vase to fall apart once again
I'm crying so heavily and I don't know why
My mind is preventing me from understanding it all, from remembering it all
I gripped my hands hard, for it's what I do to combat pain
But it doesn't stop the tears, and that's when I realize that it doesn't hurt
I feel no pain
That's when it hit me, the wound opening
It's the same old thing to which I've taught myself to be numb about
I'm so numb, I don't even feel the blood flowing out anymore
And these tears rose from my unconscious
I will always know what kind of a person I am
But it's you shaking my foundation
Sending me flying into some identity crisis
And I question myself endlessly
And I ask myself why everyday
I look in the mirror and hate the image
I look at my life in disgust and regret
Everytime I see the scar from that wound
But I'm still the same kid
I'm still the same kid who apologized to inanimate things she dropped accidentally
The kid who would remain silent than declare love loudly
The kid who wanted to prove to you, who strove to make you proud so you'd be happy
The same kid who cried breathlessly underneath blankets so you wouldn't hear her despair
The same kid who said bathroom prayers so you'd never find her praying for you
The same kid who hid behind a mask so you would not know about her sufferings
The same kid who did everything for your assurance
Just because I don't say a word, it doesn't make me a coward, it doesn't make me heartless
This is just the way I am, this is the way I grew up
Nothing I have ever said are meant to hurt
My words may wear the same mask that I do
But what they carry is what love I can confidently show
And I'm still afraid to break my own silence
Even knowing how you like to fill them
But I just can't, I just can't
I don't know where to start, afraid of the uncommon
And I fear my words will be mistook for arrows
I don't know if I can withstand another one of your attacks
So I'm still silent and withdrawn
With tears that flow from somewhere I have repressed
And I smile when I can, I laugh when I can
Because these are the emotions that managed to surface past the sad ones
And I'm grateful when they do
I'm still the same carefree child who just wants to be happy
But now I find myself, running to catch her
And now there are shadows where light used to be
And I fear one day, I'll be swallowed whole by this wound,
And losing myself, losing my love, to it.
Can deflate my entire being
And there is good reason for it
Because to me, you are everything
And I love you more than you'll ever know
Though those words have been spoken before
By poets and singers and lovers and even laymen,
I will say them forever with unchanging force
For I could not feel this way without you
Perhaps I hid too much of myself from you
For I hated people knowing my weaknesses
For I could not simply tell you how much I love
And it has always been this way and maybe will always be
So you go and fill my silences with your own thoughts and whispers
Thinking my silence means consent and indifference
And I somehow fooled myself into believing them to be true
When I feel completely the opposite of the emotions you cloaked me with
When I have not said those things you put in my mouth
You mistaken my pat on the back as a stab
And you took out your own knife and stabbed me
If you had loved me as you said, where did this blade come from?
And I'll never comprehend as I lie on the ground
Drinking the pool of blood around me to survive
And I drain out the same blood I drank, and it goes on like this
For so long, I can no longer recall the passing of days
I wonder when it will end
I wonder if it'll be my end
Days pass and the sun occasionally shined
I sit up gingerly, afraid of opening the delicate wound
And it hurts if I move too quickly
And I sit there, mindlessly silent, afraid of stirring up
A storm with my tainted thoughts and feelings
And I sigh gently at the wound, knowing I'll always be reminded of it
I'll always be reminded of it
Even when I'm starting to smile again
I'll always be reminded of it
And I no longer have the control
I can't hold it in anymore
I hated to cry, I can't cry
In front of others, in front of you
But I do now and I can't help it
I have no more strength to hold up the wall
So easily crumbled, tattered smiles
The realization that I haven't been happy since before that time
This last piece to glue onto the shattered vase, causes the vase to fall apart once again
I'm crying so heavily and I don't know why
My mind is preventing me from understanding it all, from remembering it all
I gripped my hands hard, for it's what I do to combat pain
But it doesn't stop the tears, and that's when I realize that it doesn't hurt
I feel no pain
That's when it hit me, the wound opening
It's the same old thing to which I've taught myself to be numb about
I'm so numb, I don't even feel the blood flowing out anymore
And these tears rose from my unconscious
I will always know what kind of a person I am
But it's you shaking my foundation
Sending me flying into some identity crisis
And I question myself endlessly
And I ask myself why everyday
I look in the mirror and hate the image
I look at my life in disgust and regret
Everytime I see the scar from that wound
But I'm still the same kid
I'm still the same kid who apologized to inanimate things she dropped accidentally
The kid who would remain silent than declare love loudly
The kid who wanted to prove to you, who strove to make you proud so you'd be happy
The same kid who cried breathlessly underneath blankets so you wouldn't hear her despair
The same kid who said bathroom prayers so you'd never find her praying for you
The same kid who hid behind a mask so you would not know about her sufferings
The same kid who did everything for your assurance
Just because I don't say a word, it doesn't make me a coward, it doesn't make me heartless
This is just the way I am, this is the way I grew up
Nothing I have ever said are meant to hurt
My words may wear the same mask that I do
But what they carry is what love I can confidently show
And I'm still afraid to break my own silence
Even knowing how you like to fill them
But I just can't, I just can't
I don't know where to start, afraid of the uncommon
And I fear my words will be mistook for arrows
I don't know if I can withstand another one of your attacks
So I'm still silent and withdrawn
With tears that flow from somewhere I have repressed
And I smile when I can, I laugh when I can
Because these are the emotions that managed to surface past the sad ones
And I'm grateful when they do
I'm still the same carefree child who just wants to be happy
But now I find myself, running to catch her
And now there are shadows where light used to be
And I fear one day, I'll be swallowed whole by this wound,
And losing myself, losing my love, to it.
October 25, 2012
Why Steam Still Hates Me
Thank God he didn't start taunting me... there is only so much I can type in my screen name...
October 22, 2012
Fear
There is something
Stopping me from
Saying the words
That riot in my mind
There is something
Holding my arms back
When I want to break free
And run towards the light
There is something
Preventing my heart
From expressing
From dreaming
There is something
Raining on my spirits
Dampening my strive
For happiness and purpose
This is something
Keeping me safe
Keeping me silent
Keeping me.
Stopping me from
Saying the words
That riot in my mind
There is something
Holding my arms back
When I want to break free
And run towards the light
There is something
Preventing my heart
From expressing
From dreaming
There is something
Raining on my spirits
Dampening my strive
For happiness and purpose
This is something
Keeping me safe
Keeping me silent
Keeping me.
October 14, 2012
Waltz
I am standing on tip-toes
Trying to match heights,
My face tilts up towards yours
I return the smile you gave me
I place my hand in your left
As you settle your right on my back,
Holding me heartbeat close.
We dance, dissolving in this song
And I'm swimming in your embrace,
We laugh as you twirl me playfully
I feel peaceful in this excitement
Breathing in each note deeply
I'll always remember this happiness,
As we waltz through silence and time.
Trying to match heights,
My face tilts up towards yours
I return the smile you gave me
I place my hand in your left
As you settle your right on my back,
Holding me heartbeat close.
We dance, dissolving in this song
And I'm swimming in your embrace,
We laugh as you twirl me playfully
I feel peaceful in this excitement
Breathing in each note deeply
I'll always remember this happiness,
As we waltz through silence and time.
October 13, 2012
Darkness
The days are forever ending
Pretending, covered up motives
Noctural spirits awake
Ocean skies, washed up
With a cup of black silence
I am built with hands of deceit and fear
Diseased, born with a rare haemophilia
Bleed with nausea and emotions
Offerings to this darkness of the world
Feed upon my sins
Released yet held prisoner, bind to guilt
Betrayed by my conscience
Assumptions holds me by a thread of string
Fallen, falling so deep
Thoughts and knowledge that don't belong to my mind
The world is an incredibly lonely place
Reaching for comfort that was never there
Everyone's shield with careless cold
All I know of love, is sadness
Extinct is halcyon
And the world is an extremely cruel place
Corruptions allure, insatiable to power
Adapting to it turns me against myself
My heart ripped out, they are laughing manically,
Smearing its blood on the walls of mockery
I don't mean to criticize
But God, do you have eyes?
I doubt He does because His replies for me
Are only in forms of consequences
Agony and injustice prevails
There's no need to shield our children's eyes
We've killed and poisoned our futures
This is our punishment for our behavior;
Plagued with troubles and illness
Building our world upon faltered hope
We live time's life,
Living in heartbeats
Fast pulse, slow rhythm, stop
Mirror images don't last
Fogged up, shattered...
Moths, minions of dark covers up the pure radiance
We destroyed the light switch
Hecate's reign, trip to Hades, when will we realize?
Everything's slowly melting away
Like venomous ice cube, find the antidote
Words seep from my hands
Sealed and empty are my lips
Beautiful sorrows are all I could think of
Driven anticipation, this is the end
I'd rather be mute, perhaps then you could hear
The shadows of fate
Lurking around the corner
Immune to our blank words
Useless are our absent actions
Praying for a miracle
Headstrong, I have faith in goodness
But there are nights, walks in mist, worrying
Rain drops mix with my tears
Its recipe of sympathy, I consumed
Inspirational feelings...
And I'll always be trying
Retrieving light from our dark world
Eternal darkness, eternal darkness is us,
In us, burning forests, dying souls,
Saying peace with ease when we are lying
A little girl's nightmare of her parents
Contaminated air, full of unbelievable dishonesty, we breath in
A desperate reporter's made-up story, for fame
A proud king's status, to gain more, for supremacy
A needy thief's thirst for what he cannot get, for wealth
Us, when we know the dangers and effects of our actions, we still do.
Darkness has us locked up
Blind to our surroundings
Truth unfolds, regret rises
Selfish broken hearts, undo the past
Killers cry politely, seasons die
Clinch chance, rewrite this potential story
A new day, sunrise...
This poem was written on December 23rd, 2005, in my notebook labeled "Anthology Pt 2.7." It's the first poem in the book. I've thought much about this poem while I was away from home because I remember the fervor and passion with which I wrote those words. It's the first poem where I really spoke my mind about this world that we live in.
It may seem unpolished and green to others, and yes, I think it's downright bad and awkward, but it remains one of my favourites, simply because I wrote it when I was still one who had faith despite the darkness. And I gave those words my ardor.
Our bodies are much like words -- just vessels, mediums, vehicles carrying purpose, meaning, and potential. Even with just one word, it can transform the meaning, the fluidity, the beauty of the sentence.
I have not edited this poem for this post (although I very much wanted to) -- every word is as it was 7 years ago.
Pretending, covered up motives
Noctural spirits awake
Ocean skies, washed up
With a cup of black silence
I am built with hands of deceit and fear
Diseased, born with a rare haemophilia
Bleed with nausea and emotions
Offerings to this darkness of the world
Feed upon my sins
Released yet held prisoner, bind to guilt
Betrayed by my conscience
Assumptions holds me by a thread of string
Fallen, falling so deep
Thoughts and knowledge that don't belong to my mind
The world is an incredibly lonely place
Reaching for comfort that was never there
Everyone's shield with careless cold
All I know of love, is sadness
Extinct is halcyon
And the world is an extremely cruel place
Corruptions allure, insatiable to power
Adapting to it turns me against myself
My heart ripped out, they are laughing manically,
Smearing its blood on the walls of mockery
I don't mean to criticize
But God, do you have eyes?
I doubt He does because His replies for me
Are only in forms of consequences
Agony and injustice prevails
There's no need to shield our children's eyes
We've killed and poisoned our futures
This is our punishment for our behavior;
Plagued with troubles and illness
Building our world upon faltered hope
We live time's life,
Living in heartbeats
Fast pulse, slow rhythm, stop
Mirror images don't last
Fogged up, shattered...
Moths, minions of dark covers up the pure radiance
We destroyed the light switch
Hecate's reign, trip to Hades, when will we realize?
Everything's slowly melting away
Like venomous ice cube, find the antidote
Words seep from my hands
Sealed and empty are my lips
Beautiful sorrows are all I could think of
Driven anticipation, this is the end
I'd rather be mute, perhaps then you could hear
The shadows of fate
Lurking around the corner
Immune to our blank words
Useless are our absent actions
Praying for a miracle
Headstrong, I have faith in goodness
But there are nights, walks in mist, worrying
Rain drops mix with my tears
Its recipe of sympathy, I consumed
Inspirational feelings...
And I'll always be trying
Retrieving light from our dark world
Eternal darkness, eternal darkness is us,
In us, burning forests, dying souls,
Saying peace with ease when we are lying
A little girl's nightmare of her parents
Contaminated air, full of unbelievable dishonesty, we breath in
A desperate reporter's made-up story, for fame
A proud king's status, to gain more, for supremacy
A needy thief's thirst for what he cannot get, for wealth
Us, when we know the dangers and effects of our actions, we still do.
Darkness has us locked up
Blind to our surroundings
Truth unfolds, regret rises
Selfish broken hearts, undo the past
Killers cry politely, seasons die
Clinch chance, rewrite this potential story
A new day, sunrise...
This poem was written on December 23rd, 2005, in my notebook labeled "Anthology Pt 2.7." It's the first poem in the book. I've thought much about this poem while I was away from home because I remember the fervor and passion with which I wrote those words. It's the first poem where I really spoke my mind about this world that we live in.
It may seem unpolished and green to others, and yes, I think it's downright bad and awkward, but it remains one of my favourites, simply because I wrote it when I was still one who had faith despite the darkness. And I gave those words my ardor.
Our bodies are much like words -- just vessels, mediums, vehicles carrying purpose, meaning, and potential. Even with just one word, it can transform the meaning, the fluidity, the beauty of the sentence.
I have not edited this poem for this post (although I very much wanted to) -- every word is as it was 7 years ago.
October 10, 2012
What to do when you find a giant Pooh on your bed
 |
| 1. An unsuspecting Pooh must be found passed out on your bed. |
 |
| 2. You must try to gently set it upright. |
 |
| 3. And take pictures with it. |
 |
| 4. Then proceedst to hugging it. |
 | |
| 5. And end with a nice spoon. |
>.>
*smiles*
October 9, 2012
Spin
I am a spinning top
Spinning endlessly
In the same place,
Digging a groove,
Dulling my senses;
I've stranded myself.
Everything blurs,
Colours blend,
And I listen numbly
To my own laughter
Spin out of my head.
I am swimming
In a world of madness,
And I'm on the brink
Of giving into it,
When suddenly
A skip suspends
My swirls and whirls,
Knocking me out
Of my hollow,
And I somehow
Stumble into a place
Where I should not be.
I know not how
I ended up here,
But my love spills
From my sleeves
As I twirl and spin.
I'm spinning still
In this uncanny place,
I gasp as I realize
That I've set my heart
A-flight and it lands
In your territory, spinning.
Now I must endure it
Mindlessly spinning,
Hopelessly spinning,
Because I can't stop it.
This is what I have spun. Now I have to wear it, with hopes of it keeping me warm.
Spinning endlessly
In the same place,
Digging a groove,
Dulling my senses;
I've stranded myself.
Everything blurs,
Colours blend,
And I listen numbly
To my own laughter
Spin out of my head.
I am swimming
In a world of madness,
And I'm on the brink
Of giving into it,
When suddenly
A skip suspends
My swirls and whirls,
Knocking me out
Of my hollow,
And I somehow
Stumble into a place
Where I should not be.
I know not how
I ended up here,
But my love spills
From my sleeves
As I twirl and spin.
I'm spinning still
In this uncanny place,
I gasp as I realize
That I've set my heart
A-flight and it lands
In your territory, spinning.
Now I must endure it
Mindlessly spinning,
Hopelessly spinning,
Because I can't stop it.
This is what I have spun. Now I have to wear it, with hopes of it keeping me warm.
October 8, 2012
Gratitude
The memories and feelings I had of you
Are now like pressed leaves
Dried and easily crumbled,
Tucked away in the pages of a heavy book,
Made to remember, but soon forgotten.
What we had was a strudel of time,
Made with layers and layers of words,
Filled with a bittersweet reality,
Baked in an oven of emotions,
And you ate it all up, 'till we were gone.
Like any person in my life,
You were a drop of dye
In my cup of water,
Changing the person I am,
But you stained my glass.
I had such a childlike faith
Believing that I could make a difference,
That I could better things
And just when I thought I was,
I failed.
In times of disaster
One could only hope
To have something
To hold onto, to keep afloat
But you were nowhere to be seen.
Only to appear and chastise me for wanting
That childlike faith back,
And I quivered like the candlelight,
Afraid of that one breath...
My light, was extinguished.
I was kept alive for torture
Because once you've decided
That I was unworthy of leaving
You refused to see anything else,
You chose to forget the good.
These fueled my want of death's comfort
As I can no longer battle in the dark.
And I hurt myself, stepping over
My broken spirit, my broken mind,
My broken heart.
You made me understand
What kind of a person you were,
Just how broken you were,
But you can't keep me here
By making me the same as you.
You can't hurt me
And expect me to stay.
I don't know how I survived
And perhaps life was kinder to me
Than it was to you.
Surely none of us deserve this pain,
But who gave you the right to impose it on me?
I could be angry,
I could be sad,
I could be holding a grudge,
Still.
But I am not.
Because you made me realize things
That I would not have discovered by myself,
So I want to thank you,
For helping me write this fable.
You were a lesson I needed to learn.
Thank you for making me realize
That my tears are my passion overflowing
From a bubbling and boiling concoction
Within, heated by things I saw and witnessed.
And though those hot tears sear my skin
The pain I feel, makes me more human
Than I can be without them.
The clarity I can see with after the storm
Is worth the pain,
Is worth all of this that transpired.
And though the lessons were long and tough
Your repeated assaults have taught me
That if I stopped caring, it doesn't make me less of a person,
That I should not have to suffer and agonize
Over your unhappiness, or over anyone else's.
So, thank you, in the end.
Are now like pressed leaves
Dried and easily crumbled,
Tucked away in the pages of a heavy book,
Made to remember, but soon forgotten.
What we had was a strudel of time,
Made with layers and layers of words,
Filled with a bittersweet reality,
Baked in an oven of emotions,
And you ate it all up, 'till we were gone.
Like any person in my life,
You were a drop of dye
In my cup of water,
Changing the person I am,
But you stained my glass.
I had such a childlike faith
Believing that I could make a difference,
That I could better things
And just when I thought I was,
I failed.
In times of disaster
One could only hope
To have something
To hold onto, to keep afloat
But you were nowhere to be seen.
Only to appear and chastise me for wanting
That childlike faith back,
And I quivered like the candlelight,
Afraid of that one breath...
My light, was extinguished.
I was kept alive for torture
Because once you've decided
That I was unworthy of leaving
You refused to see anything else,
You chose to forget the good.
These fueled my want of death's comfort
As I can no longer battle in the dark.
And I hurt myself, stepping over
My broken spirit, my broken mind,
My broken heart.
You made me understand
What kind of a person you were,
Just how broken you were,
But you can't keep me here
By making me the same as you.
You can't hurt me
And expect me to stay.
I don't know how I survived
And perhaps life was kinder to me
Than it was to you.
Surely none of us deserve this pain,
But who gave you the right to impose it on me?
I could be angry,
I could be sad,
I could be holding a grudge,
Still.
But I am not.
Because you made me realize things
That I would not have discovered by myself,
So I want to thank you,
For helping me write this fable.
You were a lesson I needed to learn.
Thank you for making me realize
That my tears are my passion overflowing
From a bubbling and boiling concoction
Within, heated by things I saw and witnessed.
And though those hot tears sear my skin
The pain I feel, makes me more human
Than I can be without them.
The clarity I can see with after the storm
Is worth the pain,
Is worth all of this that transpired.
And though the lessons were long and tough
Your repeated assaults have taught me
That if I stopped caring, it doesn't make me less of a person,
That I should not have to suffer and agonize
Over your unhappiness, or over anyone else's.
So, thank you, in the end.
October 7, 2012
蘿格 I
如果你真的愛一個人, 你會希望他很幸福.
因為愛在遠方 也只能做這麼多.
要是他能幸福, 愛也就滿足了.
也許他永遠 也不會知道 我多麼愛他,
但這一切是 我想要給他的.
真愛是沒有代價的.
因為愛在遠方 也只能做這麼多.
要是他能幸福, 愛也就滿足了.
也許他永遠 也不會知道 我多麼愛他,
但這一切是 我想要給他的.
真愛是沒有代價的.
October 5, 2012
Fury
I hate to waste a post here to write about this, but I felt it had to be done because I'm angry it happened. Let me start off by explaining why I even have this blog in the first place. The reason why I have this blog is because I love to write. I don't write for anyone, I write for myself. This is the only way I can express myself wholly. I get inspired by things that happen in my life and I write it down. This is an outlet. This is where I can be myself.
Sometimes when people want to know how I am feeling and whatnot, I like to refer them here, simply because I am honest in my poetry. I don't lie in my poetry. Things may change, but I don't lie in those words, in those moments. I don't mind if people read my work. Sometimes I am happy that I have an audience. And sometimes I am excited to show someone a piece of work that I am proud of. Bottom line is, I don't mind sharing my work for people to read.
But that doesn't mean you can abuse it.
Every art is open to interpretation and I think it's great if someone else read my work in a different light than I intended -- it means that the person thought and related to my words. But that doesn't mean the interpretation is necessarily correct. I, ultimately, hold the meaning to my work because I wrote it. No one else holds that authority. So before jumping to conclusions about what I've written, would it not be better to ask me about it? I admit I am not always articulate (hence why I use the poetic form), but at least let me explain?
I am always flattered when someone compliments my work or want to discuss them with me because it means that he/she found it interesting or compelling. And most of the time, I am up for the dissection of my words. But sometimes not. That's why I have my comments disabled because I don't want to hear how you read my poems; I don't want to know. It's not that I am egotistic and I don't want to hear any criticisms, but this is my home. I don't want any potential vandalism or people giving me shizzles about things-- these words that I have crafted-- that I hold dear. I know I don't always produce the best poems (some are downright bad), but they are mine nonetheless and I love them all the same because they grew with me. These poems are, essentially, my life. I gave breath to them.
You don't have the right to steal them.
The least you could do is just ask. It's not like I'm going to say no to you outright. When you take my words without permission, it's like me going into your house and stealing your things or kidnapping your children. Same concept. (Well not that I'm going to ask you if I could steal your things or kidnap your kids first, but you know what I mean.) It's an invasion, it's a burglary. And I am appalled.
To the person who felt he can just prance in here, copy and paste my poem, and use it for his own (inappropriate) means, you know who you are. Stop it or I will take actions.
I can very easily just shut this down, but I love this blog. I've had it for many years. It's a quick catharsis for me when I need it. Don't make me move. Don't make me hide myself. My words have no other purpose than to hold my memories and emotions, and they are meant for me to read. I share them because there isn't any harm to it. You like my poetry? That's great, thanks! You don't? Then just leave. My words don't hurt anyone-- if they do, it's not my words' doing, but your own mind's, your own heart's.
I think that's about all I have to say. Thank you for reading.
Promise the next post is poetry. x
Sometimes when people want to know how I am feeling and whatnot, I like to refer them here, simply because I am honest in my poetry. I don't lie in my poetry. Things may change, but I don't lie in those words, in those moments. I don't mind if people read my work. Sometimes I am happy that I have an audience. And sometimes I am excited to show someone a piece of work that I am proud of. Bottom line is, I don't mind sharing my work for people to read.
But that doesn't mean you can abuse it.
Every art is open to interpretation and I think it's great if someone else read my work in a different light than I intended -- it means that the person thought and related to my words. But that doesn't mean the interpretation is necessarily correct. I, ultimately, hold the meaning to my work because I wrote it. No one else holds that authority. So before jumping to conclusions about what I've written, would it not be better to ask me about it? I admit I am not always articulate (hence why I use the poetic form), but at least let me explain?
I am always flattered when someone compliments my work or want to discuss them with me because it means that he/she found it interesting or compelling. And most of the time, I am up for the dissection of my words. But sometimes not. That's why I have my comments disabled because I don't want to hear how you read my poems; I don't want to know. It's not that I am egotistic and I don't want to hear any criticisms, but this is my home. I don't want any potential vandalism or people giving me shizzles about things-- these words that I have crafted-- that I hold dear. I know I don't always produce the best poems (some are downright bad), but they are mine nonetheless and I love them all the same because they grew with me. These poems are, essentially, my life. I gave breath to them.
You don't have the right to steal them.
The least you could do is just ask. It's not like I'm going to say no to you outright. When you take my words without permission, it's like me going into your house and stealing your things or kidnapping your children. Same concept. (Well not that I'm going to ask you if I could steal your things or kidnap your kids first, but you know what I mean.) It's an invasion, it's a burglary. And I am appalled.
To the person who felt he can just prance in here, copy and paste my poem, and use it for his own (inappropriate) means, you know who you are. Stop it or I will take actions.
I can very easily just shut this down, but I love this blog. I've had it for many years. It's a quick catharsis for me when I need it. Don't make me move. Don't make me hide myself. My words have no other purpose than to hold my memories and emotions, and they are meant for me to read. I share them because there isn't any harm to it. You like my poetry? That's great, thanks! You don't? Then just leave. My words don't hurt anyone-- if they do, it's not my words' doing, but your own mind's, your own heart's.
I think that's about all I have to say. Thank you for reading.
Promise the next post is poetry. x
October 3, 2012
Looking Back, Looking In
In celebration of my 300th post, I am going to post things that are more embarrassing than words I've written: baby pictures.
But I don't really mind. It's all in good fun. Enjoy!
But I don't really mind. It's all in good fun. Enjoy!
Warning: If you ask me, "Aww, so, what the hell happened to you?" you're going to get your ass kicked. :)
*
Such a happy chubby baby.
"*giggles* Oh stop it! Stop tickling my feet... Oh wait, it's me."
*
"Whatchu lookin' at foo?"
That's my brother in the behind me. He looks constipated, lol.
(Pretty sure he doesn't read my blog. >.>)
*
You know how parents like to set their kids up with kids of their close friends?
Well, this be a case here. Lol. No jokes. Thanks, but no thanks parents.
We were elementary school classmates, but we didn't get along that well, lol.
It's weird, I sort of remember this picture. *closes eyes* I remember how cold it was to sit there. And I think he was being mean to me. Lol. Not sure if I just conjured that up in my head, but yeah...
*
I've got the whole world in my hands.
I be a super chill kid.
*
Indecent exposure. >.>
Bahahaha! I be a very girly girl when I was young.
I probably wore more dresses than I did pants.
And I loved it! (Wearing dresses that is, not exposing myself... >.>)
*
*Tries to redeem self by acting all prim and proper.*
Actually, I kinda look like I needed to pee.
:D
*
This is probably my most favourite picture of myself when I was young.
Yes, those are flamencos in the background.
*
Not quite sure what I was doing here.
The pervertedness is evident at an early age? Lol. :P
Looking at the photo album, it would appear that I have this open mouth trend going on...
>.>
*
Another popular pose of mine.
I think I was pretending to be Superman. >.>
Sometimes I wonder if I might've been a little retarded...
*
See, another open mouth pic.
Think I've got it down pat, yo. Lol.
*
"Oh noes!"
I liked doing this pose too, lol.
*
"Kill me. Now."
It's obvious I was made to pose like this, lol.
*
"Why didn't you kill me?!"
I think the picture speaks for itself...
*
Good stuff, good laughs.
There's nothing quite like coming home and going through photo albums or your old things.
It reminds you of who you are. x
September 2, 2012
August 28, 2012
Dandelion
Only time witnessed the change
To this flower in the middle of the field
Almost drowning in the vast green
Almost undiscovered by eyes.
As I walk amidst the tall swaying grass,
My hands are barely touching the blades
And the air smells softly of the summer sun
The same yellow this flower used to be.
I caress the aged dandelion delicately
But it falls apart so easily in my hand,
So fragile and so promising
And though I wanted to hold onto it,
I opened my palm and gave into possibilities.
To this flower in the middle of the field
Almost drowning in the vast green
Almost undiscovered by eyes.
As I walk amidst the tall swaying grass,
My hands are barely touching the blades
And the air smells softly of the summer sun
The same yellow this flower used to be.
I caress the aged dandelion delicately
But it falls apart so easily in my hand,
So fragile and so promising
And though I wanted to hold onto it,
I opened my palm and gave into possibilities.
August 21, 2012
August 11, 2012
Smoke
The smoke over the water
Slowly shape into familiar forms,
The silhouette of lovers,
Holding onto each other
Before they drown in air.
But they might as well be letting go
For time steals breaths,
And though your scent lingers
All I'm left are wisps of you.
Slowly shape into familiar forms,
The silhouette of lovers,
Holding onto each other
Before they drown in air.
But they might as well be letting go
For time steals breaths,
And though your scent lingers
All I'm left are wisps of you.
August 7, 2012
August 6, 2012
August 4, 2012
Into the Night
9:00
pm
You forged those words with the heat of your rage
I opened my mouth to retaliate
But found my troops frozen in my throat’s cage
Held captive by my silence, stalemate
The space between us was a no man’s land
Where words became empty shell casings
Fell, as their force flied on at your command
Sending me into a night that thus sings
10:03
pm
I stood in front of the doorway
The wooden frame, a line,
Separating this painting to the one in my eyes
And as I took a step forward, it all became one
One where the lapis sky still had hints of the day
Making me chase down the remaining sunset
Which I can never capture except in these words
Words drawn from the same darkness of night
I draped myself with this night, wrapping my wounds,
And I found myself wandering into a world
Where light had gone to sleep
11:33
pm
My pupils grew as they drink in the dark
Learning of hidden angles never before seen
There I saw, a man beneath a tree in the park
Disheveled, I silently questioned his hygiene
He wobbled like a wooden chair with a worn leg
Leaned against the bark before falling to the green
I would’ve passed him by if not for his pitiful peg
He looked at me and beckoned me closer for words
“Just give me a couple stars of your night,” he beg-
“Gedanken experiment we will play in thirds.”
Despite the wandering hands of his reek reaching up my
nostril
I stayed for the slight wisdom in the words of
drunkards
He began the story in a grand way like a minstrel
Plucking away at the lines of his hands
Soon I was enveloped in his words’ tendril
He did well to cater to my curious demands
As he spoke on about the lines of his life
Of how he was given no lifelines by this waste land
He attacked the lesser chances with bitter strife
But it’s so easy to fall prey, so easy to fall prey
To emptiness, when at your throat is society’s knife
His eyes grew reflective and I watched as a shard
break away
Cutting a streak down his dirty cheek; he said they’re
not tears,
But alcohol overflowing to sanitize his wounds that
have turned gray
Why do we leer and sneer when his plight is too, our
fears?
This is our stench wafting gently into the sweet air
of the night
I closed my eyes and saw the same darkness all these
years
12:00
am
It’s the prelude of a new night
I closed my eyes and saw the same darkness all these
years
I opened my eyes and found the world the same sight
Except for the street lights that illuminated the
silhouette trees
My eyes followed the black branches up to the sky
Where the artist drew them fading into each other seamlessly
1:00
am
The moon was quietly floating among stars
Sighing gently in the dead of night,
Bringing about the quavering tides
Tonight I took the time to observe it intently
There I saw a rabbit hopping along the craters of a
man’s face
Bringing medicine to quell the moon’s sighs
A cassia tree stood stoically on its surface
I watched as a woodcutter with a scythe
With a Sisyphus task of cutting it down
Then there was Chang’e, whose expression I could not
read,
Whose story we will never truly know
And I wondered if she misses the solid ground of Earth
I hopped along the dark pavement
Next to a tree whose roots held onto life
Longer than I have lived
I walked up and touched its rough skin
Carved by years and lovers’ markings
And it will be the only one in time that remembers
2:00
am
I was walking towards the city lights
The wind brought with it a strange coldness
My skin raised goose bumps to try to slow it down
The artificial lights teasingly touched the back of my
neck
Sending a horrible shiver down my spine, afraid,
I saw sharp shadows trying to crawl out of dark
alleyways
Lurking and luring the naïve into its possessive
embrace
3:04
am
There was something in the air
As the wolf howled at the sighing moon
Calling the night creatures out to play
They crawled out gleefully from under the rocks,
Some late night bars, and from
behind those words
It was too late for me to
take cover
As my shadow crisped in the
light
They approached me, their
shadows engulfing mine,
Their ghoulish smiles
evoking pessimism,
Such darkness, as they sank
into my pupils
Searching and prying for
hidden sights
Suddenly my fears were
awakened
As ghosts made themselves
consciously present
My subconscious flooded with
sweat and tears,
And suppressed memories of
ache and failures
Despair stepped forth and took my wet face in its
hands
Lifting so I could stare at him eye to eye
I shuddered involuntarily and was overwhelmed
By his drumming of my heart beat
That my tears became black ink
I was so close to drowning in those words
So close to giving up the lines of my hand
And surrendering to his command of the night
Until an infant’s cry pierced through his haunting
stare,
Shaking me from this living nightmare
4:29
am
I sat on the ground a good while
Trying to recollect my senses
As the wisps of the past started to dissipate
Though the uncanny darkness still remained
My hands were balled up so tightly,
My finger nails were imprinted in my palm
Crescent smiles, those smiles still dwelled,
The shadows lingered, into the night
5:24
am
I was blanketed beneath a dark gray sky
A shade the artist painstakingly mixed
My footsteps echoed softly
On the pavement of a different gray
Bloodshot eyes and tightened lips
I looked down at my hands tinted by the night
Half wounded by the night’s excursions
Half fatigued by the weight of these words
So I was dangling off of these lines
To keep myself from crumbling
6:31
am
The night retracted its fingers
Releasing its grasp of the world
I watched the shadows shrink
Slowly
The painting blooming into colours
Things that had been lying as stones
Now stirring awake and amnesic
7:05
am
Day breaks
7:14
am
Tick-tock
7:22
am
These words
7:32
am
Tick-tock
7:40
am
Ink from the night
7:55
am
Still
8:00
am
The sun swept over the land
Where night once dominated
Sending shadows into frenzy
The sky had licked an orange lollipop,
Watching the people beneath
Hurrying like ants, going nowhere
The moon faded away with its sighs
Replaced by song birds with their wordless songs
But I could still see with my constricted pupils
For sleep has not made me blind
Nor could I forget
The traces of the night
9:10
am
It was time for me to go back to us
Retracing every step and every word
Still afraid and unsure of our status
Our hearts red dark, too proud to step forward
We both reached for the door knob at the same time
Life’s cyclical way, written in this rhyme,
Written into the night.
Entry for this year's competition... Proud of this one too. Can you catch all the devices I've used?
October 4th, 2012: So I was reading through my previous competitive entry and realized that perhaps I should try and explain this one a little more than I had.
The main inspiration for this poem is the idea of circularity, which I tried to express with time and with the journey that the protagonist goes on in the story. The most difficult part of writing this was my wanting to be witty with when each section should start. The first section started at 9pm. The next section started at 10:03pm because it took me 63 words to write the first section. To put it differently, each word stands for a minute. But it's hard to keep that consistent since sometimes I need more words to express what I want to say. So sometimes, it is the number of characters, the number of lines that are equivalent to each passing minute (it is consistent IN each section, but differs by sections). I had originally wanted to do a 24-hour cycle instead of the 12-hour one that I wrote, but I felt that half a day was sufficient for me to dictate the 180-degree change that the character went through, while at the same time, maintaining that circularity. (...Or it might've been that I didn't have enough time to do 24 sections. :P)
In order to tie the beginning to the end, the first section is one half of a sonnet (the first two quatrains) and the last section is the remaining (the third quatrain and the couplet). It started out with a fight between lovers and ends with the reconciliation. Because as I have said previously, love is always the reason, the life of poetry. It's a foundation that I cannot shake in my writing.
It might've been Donne's influence on me (since I took a seminar on his work), that I felt compelled for my work to self-reflect. The artist, the ink, all these self-referrals are my desire of wanting the reader to realize that I am sitting here writing this poem, literally, into the night. And that I am borrowing from the night's elements to write this, hence the emphasis (repetition) of "into the night," and the darkness from where I borrow my ink. And yes, it's true that I wrote this poem into the night, haha. I wrote the fears of the night, I wrote of my own experiences of the night, albeit minorly changed to make it more, relevant. I also wanted there to be parallels between the character, the reader, and the poet, so that as I write, as the story starts, as the reader reads, we're all in it together. So yes. This is why I wrote what I wrote.
October 4th, 2012: So I was reading through my previous competitive entry and realized that perhaps I should try and explain this one a little more than I had.
The main inspiration for this poem is the idea of circularity, which I tried to express with time and with the journey that the protagonist goes on in the story. The most difficult part of writing this was my wanting to be witty with when each section should start. The first section started at 9pm. The next section started at 10:03pm because it took me 63 words to write the first section. To put it differently, each word stands for a minute. But it's hard to keep that consistent since sometimes I need more words to express what I want to say. So sometimes, it is the number of characters, the number of lines that are equivalent to each passing minute (it is consistent IN each section, but differs by sections). I had originally wanted to do a 24-hour cycle instead of the 12-hour one that I wrote, but I felt that half a day was sufficient for me to dictate the 180-degree change that the character went through, while at the same time, maintaining that circularity. (...Or it might've been that I didn't have enough time to do 24 sections. :P)
In order to tie the beginning to the end, the first section is one half of a sonnet (the first two quatrains) and the last section is the remaining (the third quatrain and the couplet). It started out with a fight between lovers and ends with the reconciliation. Because as I have said previously, love is always the reason, the life of poetry. It's a foundation that I cannot shake in my writing.
It might've been Donne's influence on me (since I took a seminar on his work), that I felt compelled for my work to self-reflect. The artist, the ink, all these self-referrals are my desire of wanting the reader to realize that I am sitting here writing this poem, literally, into the night. And that I am borrowing from the night's elements to write this, hence the emphasis (repetition) of "into the night," and the darkness from where I borrow my ink. And yes, it's true that I wrote this poem into the night, haha. I wrote the fears of the night, I wrote of my own experiences of the night, albeit minorly changed to make it more, relevant. I also wanted there to be parallels between the character, the reader, and the poet, so that as I write, as the story starts, as the reader reads, we're all in it together. So yes. This is why I wrote what I wrote.
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