Goodbye to the paramour notes

www.blackabove.blogspot.com

2011-10-24T19:48:00.003+08:00

A different blog. With similar thoughts and similar suicidal tendencies. I dont know why I bothered but it feels like a new start.

A pseudo recovery, I like to call it.

I would like to lie and say the other blog is less negative, less haunted and happier. But the purpose for another blog was only to run away from the memories on here. But I realise it's not much different over there. It's brighter there though, literally. And I'm more honest over there. Because on here, it was always pretty words, drama and denial that came first.

It's time for brutal honesty. To face what's within me. To whine and groan about the injustice of life. And the many other things that bug and tear at me.

Don't follow if you expect a change of scene from this shithole. Don't follow if you are looking for salvation. Don't follow if you're looking for something lighthearted or inspiring.
It's all angst, whines and frustration over there. You have been forewarned.

This isn't a suicide letter.

2011-10-12T19:51:00.007+08:00

June 2009
I have this feeling inside that I wouldn't like me if I met me.
I'm my own worst casualty, everything i touch can get broken.
The truth is that I'm self-destructive. I'm insecure, I'm out of focus.

July 2009
Three times a day I would take pills that would make me happy.
I want to be happy.
I want to be happy.

I am not crazy. The worst of all this is that I am not crazy. Not even drunk.
Just self-destructive. Just fucking everything-destructive, that's all.

Dear Jesus, I'm scared. Of course, I'm scared.

November 2009
The world is bleeding colors and I think I'm on self destruction again.

March 2010
It's coming back again.

April 2010
How can I hate that side of me so much, yet embrace it with such silent and twisted relish?

May 2010
I need a break. From everything. From duties, decisions, school, people and life.
I need a knife, some pills, a bathtub for dramatic setting and a white tiled bathroom.
I need an ending.

August 2010
I think it's time to come to terms that I'm unhappy. There are many things that make me happy. But I'm not. And I'll probably never be.

October 2010
Sometimes, it become a form of release to hate yourself. A habit. A vicious cycle you can't break out.

November 2010
These days, I draw a box around me, four lines, one square. And punish myself for everything I hate about myself today.

January 2011
Fingers across the keyboard.
When all they are doing really is begging to pull the trigger.

February 2011
You will never ever ever be good enough.
Remember that.

This happiness is only a dream.

March 2011
I will always destroy the ones I love. Everything I touch turns to stone. Medusa hands, killer mind.
Everything falls apart eventually because I'm too fucked up to do anything.

April 2011
There are no gods and hope round here.
Just a fucking barrel to my head, a rope around my neck and my legs are begging, pleading to leap.

June 2011
I'm terrified. Fucking scared out of my mind.
Scared to live. But too afraid to die.

I want to stop waking up in the middle of the night, caught between emptiness, exasperation and despair.

Today, October 2011
This isn't a suicide letter. I just want to get real close to Death. Touch his hand and know that I was alive.

Just stop.

2011-10-09T21:05:00.002+08:00

Now that things have turned out this way. I can only say I don't regret it. And if I had a second chance, I would still tell you the truth again and tell you how much you have hurt me.

When I saw your text today, I knew you couldn't understand. And you never will. Because people like you are meant to be happy. Meant to live for that shot of happiness that lasts you through your happily ever after. And me? I only hurt myself from all these addictions and emptiness.

Maybe it was because I realise we were fundmentally different. Meant to live different lives. Meant to hurt differently. The cause of death and the dead. I think that was why I didn't break down again. Because I knew you can't be the one for me. Someone like you who never felt emptiness or how happiness feels so much better with pain can never understand this massive blackhole up here.

So I let you think that your anger is justified. I realise how much damage i had done. And I watch you hate me, fear me, and loathe me. Because thats how people like you ultimately do. I let you push me away and I let the pain eat away at me. Because that was the way I was supposed to live. Forever hurting. Haunted and afraid.

I watch how you replace me with other people and I realise that I was never ever ever as important as you say I am or you think I am. You drowned me in your inconsideration. And then left me here to die. Funny how quickly you threw me away once you knew the truth.

You just lie to yourself and hope things would be better. And you will never realise that it's a lie. Because that's how you were born to feel and react. Your lies make you happy. And if you are happy it doesnt matter if I'm happy or not.
Because I'm no one to you. Or to anybody.

And so this is how it ends. My cheap shot at happiness.
It wasn't even worth a second glance.
Truth be told I'm not sure if it was even worth anything.

Forever haunted, more than afraid.

2011-08-25T23:24:00.003+08:00

Try to numb the pain
With alcohol and pills
But it won't repair your trust
You can't stand on two fucking feet
With a substance as a crutch
-Bring me the Horizon

With an empty heart I returned to an empty home, an empty head.
And this emptiness fills me up only to fade away to take even more of me with it.

A slight addiction.

2011-08-22T12:16:00.003+08:00

There are no flowers, no, not this time,
There will be no angels gracing the lines,
Just these stark words I find.
-AFI, This Time Imperfect

I always get too attached. To someone, to something.
Anyone could be everything to me. Everyone could be nothing to me.

I don't know why we met.
Maybe because my life was so empty. And yours was filled with so much positivitiy and life.

Or maybe because you were make-believe like everything I ever loved.

Goodbye.

2011-06-12T22:54:00.004+08:00

I'm terrified. Fucking scared out of my mind.
Scared to live. But too afraid to die.

I want someone to tell me that everything will be fine.
For once, I don't want these words for others but myself.

I want another reason to live. Another meaning to cling onto. Another purpose to continue breathing for.

I want to feel loved without a glimmer of doubt. To be able to love without all these hate. And to be loved without hating.

I want to stop waking up in the middle of the night, caught between emptiness, exasperation and despair.

I want to be happy. I really do.

But these words they fall short of anything.
I lost my grasp of these words and it seems pointless to continue searching for reason here anymore. This may be the last time I'm writing here. Because writing has lost its purpose and meaning.

This isn't the end. I hope.

Note To Self

2011-05-26T21:49:00.002+08:00

Never forget how he left you to die.
The nights spent in cold anguish and mental torment.

Never forget how replacable you are.
Never ever let anyone in ever again.
People will leave anyway. No one will ever stop for your story.

You are your writer. A victim of your mind. A puppet of your sanity. Or rather the lack of it.

Keep your heart close. And keep these fears even closer because they are better than these humans anyday. And don't worry, these demons will never forsake you day or night.

Never ever let go of that smile. Because if you live through this, you will have a heart of steel and never have to look back.

I'm glad you graced me with your presence.

2011-05-15T22:45:00.000+08:00

It doesn't matter anymore.
But I don't mean it in the bad kind of way.

I'm just starting to get used to this. I'm starting to realise that there are better things and people out there.

It doesn't matter if I'm hurting. Or that you felt the same way back then. Or you didn't.

This time next year we will only be strangers left with good memories. For you at least.

For me? I guess I will wait for another person to come along.
Another person who really cares and whom I really care about.

A fucking supernova. Boom.

2011-05-09T20:28:00.002+08:00

Its funny how we end up like this.

Its funny how we text more than we talk. How I hate more than I love.

And now all thats left is resentment, hope and disgust.
I never knew they could coexist like this. Just like how I never knew how disappointing you were until we knew each other better.

If it was so easy to tell everyone about us and so easy to forget about me and so easy to send a text instead of talking, then maybe we should leave this place as superficial friends.

If I were that important as you claim me to be then I wouldnt be here writing this.

And I'll bet that you will never realise things will never be the same again. I bet you will never realise that I'm gone until it's too late for either of us to do anything. I'll bet deep down inside you don't give a fucking damn. You never did.

All we do is lie to each other. And I'll tell you what you wanna hear but don't bother talking to me. Because really i cant be bothered to know anything about you anymore.

2011-04-29T16:37:00.002+08:00

People like to say that alot of things don't matter.

Don't believe their lies.

2011-04-20T19:30:00.002+08:00

It's days like this that I just wanna run away from everything and everyone. It's days like this when I run the blade gently across my skin and all I think of is cutting, cutting and cutting. It's days like this that I just wanna trash and smash everything in sight. It's days like this that make me feel like if I live through this and bleed all it's worth things might get better again.

I wish I had a different face, a different life. Another persona without the bullshit and the lies. I wish I could bend and break these hands of Time. Maybe then, things would've been different.

If I were my own superhero, I would stop myself from falling for the same mistake twice. Would have played by the rules and never let anyone in.

I believed in shooting stars, God and 11:11. But not anymore. Not anymore.
There are no gods and hope round here. Just a fucking barrel to my head, a rope around my neck and my legs are begging, pleading to leap.

I believed in love. When I first met you.
But now, trapped in my own fucking mind, I see now that someone like me never believed in love.
Only in selfishness, self-pity and self-hate.

2011-04-18T22:14:00.002+08:00

There's no god round here.
Just me and my stupid mistakes.

And maybe an occasional kind soul or two.

But at the end of the day, I will never step out of this bedlam. I don't deserve salvation or anything else.
So leave me here with my mind. I will tear myself apart someday.
But I swear, I swear I'll never ever let you see me this way.

Afterall, all things will come to an end.

2011-03-28T16:45:00.002+08:00

I talked about him, missed and hated him, and thought of you.

I will always destroy the ones I love. Everything I touch turns to stone. Medusa hands, killer mind. Everything falls apart eventually because I'm too fucked up to do anything.

I wish I was someone else with a different past, different face and life. I wish I could be the person I let you believe I am.

You don't deserve this shit. I'm sorry.

The (un)happiness.

2011-03-18T00:18:00.002+08:00

I'm a girl afterall.

All I ever wanted was another shot at happiness.
Am I asking too much?

Blacklist.

2011-03-11T23:33:00.002+08:00

I'm bitchy. I'm angsty. I'm antagonizing. I'm hell a lot to handle.
Only because I'm not afraid to say what I think and do what I want. And I see the world for it is and what it is not.

Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm right. But fuck it. At least I'm not afraid to stand up for myself.

Life is not all beautiful roses and happy unicorns. Dream big, talk big. You are nothing without the elitism you created upon your delusions. You are nothing to me still.

You don't deserve anything you want from me.

So get the fuck away from me. And we'll live our lives the way it were. You, in your perfect little bubble and me, with the world around me drawn ugly.

2011-03-08T20:12:00.002+08:00

Why can't you fucking see that you will never be good enough?

No matter how much you change or try, there's always something, someone, somewhere that reminds you of how inadequate you are.

All these dead words they still ring true. And your head is full of words, full of words that dont mean anything at all.

I'm sorry I wasn't good enough.
And I'm sorry that I never can be.

One step at a time.

2011-02-27T17:11:00.002+08:00

Cut hair. Lose some weight. Save money. Learn some drums. Practise growling. Read some books. Catch up on music.

Be happy. Stop being moody. Try to be less bithcy.
Be grateful for the little things.

Accept reality and take it like a man.

Start getting you life together, self.
These seventeen years wasted won't come by again.

And this time, I'm gonna bleed all it's worth for my dreams.

Not anymore.

2011-02-22T21:08:00.004+08:00

A misfit of all sorts. I don't believe in gods. Not anymore.

I long to refute everything into inexistence. I long to combust this world with my bare hands.
And return to home.

It used to be me, the emptiness and the tireless seek for self gratification.
When has it turned to such bitter loneliness and the irrational pursuit for perfection? I don't even remember myself.

I never wanted this. Never wanted to choose between two worlds.
Never should have stepped out of here.
Because now everything here seems upside down.

A misfit of all sorts. Scared and tired. I've never felt so far from home before.

Sleepwalker.

2011-02-15T22:45:00.002+08:00

It has always been two worlds.
Always will be.

Empty is the sky before the sun lights up.
Empty is the faces of the drugged and stolen.
Empty is the feeling of discarded expectations.
Empty is the eyes of the people without roses.

Or maybe that's loneliness.
Like perfection is flawlessness and money is power.

Or maybe it all lies with perceptions.
Opinions. Beliefs. Ethics. Social norms.

Or maybe it's nothing at all.
Just ambiguity, naivety and bitterness.

2011-02-13T18:02:00.002+08:00

This paranoia is eating me alive.

Dreams and razorblades.

2011-02-09T21:40:00.004+08:00

It's hopeless. Fucking hopeless being blinded by irrational hope.

Reinvented myself. Reinvented love.
But it's never gonna be enough.

You can tread on water and air all you like, baby. Or fly to delirious dizzy heights of talent and inspiration. Or even breathe ecstasy and drown in its warm glow.

Because reality will have its last laugh. Always.

You will never ever ever be good enough.
Remember that.

This happiness is only a dream.
So sleep tight.
And keep your heart loose.

The word "friends" gets redefined.

2011-02-02T21:06:00.006+08:00

Sweetheart, you're sadly mistaken.

Id rather die in a world that hates me than live with your lies.
Sometimes I have nothing but contempt for the people around me. With their perfect little lives and saintly characters.
People like them will never understand.

I long to burn this elitism and hypocrisy down.
Even if I burn with it.

So you dont have to pretend to be friends with me, because youre just like them.

Demise so surreal.

2011-01-28T19:53:00.003+08:00

If this is what makes you happy, then go ahead.

I'll live with the heartache and look back upon the days once loved.

You can't save me from myself. Im asking too much for too little.

2011-01-21T23:25:00.001+08:00

Sometimes, I just wannna throw my arms up and give up.

I don't know why I still bother.

A few more years, and I'm outta here.

Heroin.

2011-01-14T19:35:00.006+08:00

When did this little drip of thoughts mutate into a gargantuan billowing storm? Was it a week ago? A month ago? A year ago? Or has it always been like this?

Why did you...?
I wasn't happy with the faces they gave me. Wasn't satisifed with the one I had.

So I tore myself apart with desire and expectations.
Funny how old habits are so hard to kill sometimes.

Why did you...?
I don't know why. I just had to, wanted to.
If I didn't, I don't know what to do

Now I did, I don't know how to stop.

We're temporary anyway.

2011-01-08T12:07:00.003+08:00

I'm well aware that I'll never fit in.
Just like how I am aware that the rest of the world is plagued by fools pretending to be kings.

And it doesn't matter what you think. Really, what makes you think you matter at all? Maybe, you do to someone else. But to me, you're just another point waiting to be seen, reiterated, and forgotten.

Still it doesn't mean I have to do what you expect of me.

Give me deliverance.

2011-01-03T16:22:00.003+08:00

Losers in love.
It was all butterfly notes and cyanide kisses.
Fingers across lips.
Glassy eyes and cigarette-stained lies.

How much more can you take?
How much more can you fake?

Barrel in your mouth.
The foul, rusty, acrid taste of gunpower and saliva.
Fingers across the keyboard.
When all they are doing really is begging to pull the trigger.

How much more to make you wake?
How much more to make you break?

How much more before you have nowhere to fall to but hell?

The pursuit for truth and sanity only brings you further.
But the mirror never lies.

You haven't changed.
And you never will.

Year-end confessions.

2010-12-30T23:35:00.007+08:00

#1
I have never been really good at the truth.
I try but most of the times, I don't bother at all.

But I'm gonna try really hard this time.
For the next 15 minutes.
----

#2
Sometimes I listen to really trashy ~~music~~noise.
Like Ke$ha. Or some other auto tune shit.

And then I get a headache. But I go on anyway.
Because jiggling to pop music is awesome sometimes. =w=b
----

#3
I write love poems sometimes.
But I'm a major phail at them.
----

#4
I'm gonna admit this. I'm bitter and sore. Over what you did.

If you never included me in your master plan, we wouldnt have ended up in a fucking gooey mess. I know, deep inside, everything will never be the same as it was ever.

I really hope you're happy.
Because you destroyed everything with your jealousy and selfishness.
----

#5
Sometimes, I secretly dream of being in a hardcore band and touring UK/US.
---

#6
I kinda lied.
Cause I haven't moved on.

I kinda wish I did.
---

#7
I have a penchant for collecting things.
Makeup, neopets plushies, neopoints, manga, notebooks, etc.
---

#8
Sometimes I take out my guitar, wanting to practise.
But I put it back after smelling the rust on my 346-year-old guitar strings.
---

#9
I’m still upset about what you did to me a few years back.
So here's to you: FUCK YOU. 8D
--

#10
I really like sausages. Like homgwtfSAUSAGEohmnomnom-ly love them.
---

#11
I really like poking people.
Like homgwtfSOMEONETOPOKE*pokes**jabs**whacks*-ly love to poke people.
---

#12
We all have our horrors and our demons to fight.
But how can I win, when I'm paralyzed?
They crawl up on my bed, wrap their fingers 'round my throat.

Save me from the ones that haunt me in the night.
-Bring Me The Horizon
---

#13
I sing loudly and awfully at home.
---

#14
There's only two three types of people in my world.
Friends, passing-by, Pissing-the-hell-out-of-me.

And not many are in the first category.
---

#15
I have a problem with anyone who is older than me. 'cept my friends.
---

#16
I tried dying twice.
But I was too phailz to succeed.
---

#17
I like studying, especially Chemistry. But teachers piss the hell out of me.

And waking up at 530am every morning doesn't help my condition at all.
---

#18
I wish I was a gay guy so badly that I actually dreamt that I was one.
---

#19
I listened to Britney and Backstreet Boys when I was in primary school. =w=b
---

#20
I make up my own japanese words sometimes.
---

Trolls will be trolls.

2010-12-28T21:46:00.003+08:00

Seriously, comparing shonen and shojo manga is like comparing an apple and an orange.
They are both fruits but so different. So fucking open your eyes before you start flaming something based on your obvious lack of knowledge of genres.

Wikipedia isn't everything. Just because Wikipedia said so, doesnt make it so.

Stop trolling and go brush up on your facts.

If things were simpler.

2010-12-28T01:02:00.000+08:00

A melody is like seeing someone for the first time. But then, as you get to know the person, that's the lyrics. Their story. Who they are underneath. It's the combination of the two that makes it magical.
-Music & Lyrics

Christmasseyyyyyy.

2010-12-26T01:05:00.001+08:00

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me....
A FIRE BREATHING DRAGON JUST FOR MEEEEEEEE.

Playful at best.

2010-12-24T00:46:00.002+08:00

Sometimes, I spray your cologne around my room and pretend that you're here with me.

Other times, you never existed. Neither did the cologne.

Pets can be so much fun.

2010-12-23T00:54:00.004+08:00

You know you've reached potentially dangerous stages of game addiction when you spend hours researching on Neopets and trying to come up with ways to bypass their security shit.

Ohskylarkmotherrockerandfiddlestickswithcheese.
Ineedtogogetabetterlifebeforeistartturningintoaneopetliterally.

Hai pile of homework and messy study table, please stop giving me disapproving looks.

Try again. Harder.

2010-12-19T10:29:00.001+08:00

I lied.
I'll never pull myself away from this bedlam.

It's too terrifying to entertain that thought.

Joker.

2010-12-09T22:39:00.002+08:00

Who do you think you are, you worthless piece of shit?

DANGDUNGMUNGGUNK.

2010-12-06T22:36:00.002+08:00

I wish I could read/write/speak Japanese.
So I can play otome games and drool over dreamy (unreal!!!) hot guys 8D

I wish I could get off my lazy ass and start doing some makeup before my stash rots.

I wish I didn't buy the NYX Nude on Nude palette because I FOUND AN AWESOMIER URBAN DECAY NAKED PALETTE DUPE. D8

I wish I could feel like cleaning up my room before everything gets lost in a sea of makeup, bubble wrap, papers and madness.

I wish my stupid package would arrive soon.

I wish there were 96 hours in a day.

I wish I could stop playing Neopets.

I wish I were rich. Every single day of my life.

Music and misery.

2010-11-30T23:37:00.003+08:00

I think apathy is the easiest trap to fall into. Never allow yourself to stop caring.

But life's so much easier that way.

I'm done with wanting things I can never have. Done with trying to be someone I can never be.
And done with telling myself that I am someone that I'm not.

I'm done with hearing everyone's bullshit.

There's a fine line between feeling insecure and knowing your own capabilites.

And trust me, I am not who you make me out to be.

I'd rather be insane.

2010-11-25T10:28:00.005+08:00

What is it like to die alone?
How does it feel to be always skirting the edges?

I never said that I'd rather be dead but I've thought about the end. So many times. Way too many times.

It disgusts me how I am drunk on both hope and despair. Which wound up getting myself hurt over and over again.

I drive myself insane with desire, denial and delusions. No matter how many times I tell myself, I deny reality and plainly refuse to see things the way they are. Because I'm always too scared. Always fearful of expectations, disappointments and resentment.

Every night, they try to bring me down to keep me sane. This neverending cycle of self bashing. And this ensemble up here is getting berserk.

But they can never win.
Because denial feels too damn good.

We have our fucking rights.

2010-11-22T20:59:00.003+08:00

You blind fool, what are you fighting for?

Don't imprint your perspectives and insecurities on others. No one has the obligation to care about your narrow-minded minions and your bigotry.

Grow up, get a life.

Start listening, start loving, start looking. With those eyes that you've wasted all your life. And shut the fuck up about your religious bullshit. Only when you've got rid of all your prejudices and fucking bullshit, can you claim yourself to be the person you pretend to be.

You're only jealous. Because there are people who are more happy than you can ever be. They are more free in their love than you ever can be.

You're afraid of facing the unfathomable, the foreign, the inscrutable. Because they are stronger, better than you can ever be.

You're angry and bitter. You think you're the only one who's right and the rest of the world is fucking wrong, because you're so goddamn fucking good with your ridiculous morals and all.

You can't stand it because someone else was brave enough to step out of stereotypical thinking before you decided that deviation was fucking wrong.

Tell me, what is the wrong in doing what you like and loving who you love?
And whatever happened to the fight for human rights? Whatever happened to the bullshit about anti-slavery and whatnot?

Who the fuck do you think you are?
Since when has God stepped down and made you the new god?

You've got your life, and we have got our own. If people don't give a shit about your boring 9-to-5 job and ugly-like-fuck wife, why should you care about whether what they are doing is morally or religiously correct in our own warped logic?

Why are you making such a big fuss out of everything when it's none of your fucking business?

The fine line between disease and what I need.

2010-11-18T22:03:00.004+08:00

I would never lie to you.
But everything I told you were half-truths.

You're so important to me that I would never want to know the feeling of you slipping through my fingers.

That's why, instead of fighting to hold on, I choose to let go.

Because I'm afraid.
Because I don't wanna be in love. Not anymore.
Not when I'm trying to be invisible.
Not when I'm fighting over and over again.

Not when I'm so fucking insecure.

Come back home.

2010-11-15T12:03:00.003+08:00

What are you afraid of, really?

I realize that feelings can easily be ignored, replicated and misunderstood.
But hardly reciprocated.

Maybe things were just not meant to be the way I wanted it to be.
I was too stubborn, foolish and delusional.

I know I'll always be walking down the same road, humming the same old tunes, lying that I won't be waiting for another person like you.

2010-11-11T23:42:00.003+08:00

I can't trust myself with anything.
I'm such a fucking hypocrite.

I don't deserve anything because I always end up hurting the people I love.

Where would we be now?

2010-11-09T20:23:00.005+08:00

I remember looking forward to spending the hot and sweltering afternoons walking down the streets with you.

I remember wishing that every traffic light would never turn green, just so I could spend a few more seconds with you.

I remember telling you everything I hated about this world and how you would come up with some philosophical bullshit about why I hated the world.

I remember the way you would smile. The smile that lights up your dull eyes, transforming your face to a canvas of golds, reds and oranges.

I remember wishing that I could always be the only one to make you laugh.

I remember how our hands would brush gently against each other, and how every time I wished I didn't cringe away.

I remember you telling me how much you wanted to die sometimes, to leave this world behind.

I remember thinking how much I wanted you to live, because you were the few good things I had in this world.

I remember you would always look at me with eyes full of unspoken words and inexplicable sorrow.

I remember how you would steal the words from the tip of my tongue and complete the thoughts that I didn't even know exist.

I remember telling you how much I hated you.

I remember everything.
But I wish I didn't.

Because he reminds me so much of you. Sometimes, I swear I think he's you, and I just want to tell him all the things I never got to say to you.

Where would we be now if I told you the things you wanted to hear?

Isomers.

2010-11-08T23:34:00.004+08:00

"I am somebody. I am me. And I don't need anybody to make me somebody."
- Louis L'Amore

Inspire me. These words only mean a thing when it's coming from someone else's mouth.

These days, I draw a box around me, four lines, one square. And punish myself for everything I hate about myself today. Whilst the mimes spread their legs wide open in a room full of mirrors.

I wish you would shut the fuck up and let me be. Because tbh, I don't really need your sympathy.

The endless pursuit of ideals.

2010-11-06T18:57:00.003+08:00

These past few days I've been reliving the memories. The good, the bad, the obvious, the in-between lines of you and me.

Everything I fought so hard for, refused to budge for, held on so tightly, seems to be wrong, and these words of conviction taste so awry and acrid in my mouth. Every step I take seems to take me further away from my dreams, my ideals, everything I thought I wanted. Everything I do seems to be the opposite of what I stand for.

I'm such a contradiction.

I don't know what I stand for anymore.

Rant.

2010-10-30T16:36:00.004+08:00

People will never look beyond what they want to look at.

It doesnt matter if you aren't who they think you are. Because people will only believe what they want to believe. See what they want to see. Hear what they want to hear.

And whoever told you that your image is secondary, and character is important, was lying to you.

We're all hypocrites. We're all lying to someone, or about something. And truth is, most of the times people don't really care who you really are, but which role you're playing now.

Forget about being sincere. If you can fake sincerity, you can do anything and get away with it.

Blame it on the weather.

2010-10-28T21:14:00.002+08:00

I wanna curl up in bed and cry my heart out.
I wanna fall into oblivion, wake up and fall back to sleep again.

I wish I could draw a line between people and me.
I wish I could shut out your voice.
And not feel torn apart when I do.

I wish I could shut my eyes and see nothing.

I always end up as a failure and a wreck no matter what I do.
It's times like this when wish I could be someone else.

Sometimes, life's alot easier when eveything's a blur and you know that things are way too fucked up for you to do anything.

Blogging when I shouldnt =/

2010-10-25T16:09:00.004+08:00

PW brings out the worst in me.

And everything I do seems to be wrong these days.

I think as much as I want to deny, I'm still that girl i was four years ago. Insecure, scared, needy, a wreck.

I hate feeling like this. I hate myself for letting these minor things define. Hate myself for letting these emotions run wild. Hate myself for letting people's expectations and words confine me. Hate the way I react to others' actions. Hate myself for being who I am. Hate myself for everything that is me.

Sometimes, it become a form of release to hate yourself. A habit. A vicious cycle you can't break out.

How can you hate this part of you yet relish it with such twisted satisfaction and adoration?

I don't know what's worst, hating yourself, or letting yourself hate you.

You make me feel like a hypocrite, baby.

2010-10-23T10:13:00.002+08:00

I think I lost my ability to write.

The words, they get stuck somewhere, and everything I do, seems to take a part from me, and I lose so much more along the way.

I'm changing. Into someone I despised. From someone I despised even more.

If I could let others define me, would I still be the person I want to be?

=/

When we don’t know who to hate, we hate ourselves.

Blank stares at blank pages.

2010-10-21T21:36:00.002+08:00

Maybe I was meant to live this way,
in a love struck kind of way.
In two dimensions always.
-A Skylit Drive

I can't come to terms with this monster staring right back at me.

Things to do before you die.

2010-10-17T21:46:00.001+08:00

Life's short. Fucking short.

You breathe, you eat, you sleep, you die.

I might as well just stuff myself with processed foods and carcinogenic substances. And might as well fuck things twice over instead of striving for tireless perfection.

Might as well play GE all day. =/

Or I could get De Quervain's disease from playing too much PSP.
Or I could dress up everyday and get wasted on streets.
Or I could eat cheesecake and chocolate everyday and laze on the bed and get fatter.

Or I could run away from home now.
Liek now. And go to US/Uk to see my bands live. 8D

Or I could go play GE now and stop ranting.

.____________.

Summation of series of inexplicable events.

2010-10-14T21:38:00.003+08:00

It's my heart against your hands. Scissors paper stone.
You won every single time. And I let you.

Some time back, I realized how replaceable I can be. Or anyone can be. How easily feelings can replicated. How flippantly people can forget one another. And how frequently we meet new people. And how temporal our existences are. I realized how transient was what we had between us. Almost nonexistent. "Almost" because you told me to not lose hope.

And this hope is coming back to haunt me.

I don't know why I subject myself to this vortex of emotions. But the bottom line is, I deserve all this shit. I caused all this bedlam upon myself. And I'm too fucked up to save my own life.

And after all these while, I realize now, that it has always been my hands against my heart. Scissors paper stone.
There's no we. Just me.

The saint, the ignorant, and the fallen.

2010-10-10T20:04:00.004+08:00

And then I felt sad because I realized that once people are broken in certain ways, they can't ever be fixed, and this is something nobody ever tells you when you are young and it never fails to surprise you as you grow older as you see the people in your life break one by one. You wonder when your turn is going to be, or if it's already happened.
-Dougals Coupland

I am burning my wings, my beautiful angel wings. The flames are carmine,
scarlet, vermilion and crimson: hot as painted canvas; raw and violent
as unreciprocated dreams.

I cannot sleep. The blood rubs rough against the thin walls of my arteries: a skein
of chemicals, devoid of volition, simmering in a gurgle of de-oxygenated agitation.
-Dee Rimbaud

Let's feast on insomnia like kings.

2010-10-09T07:20:00.000+08:00

Pain.
A silent and mindless disease.

It creeps up on you, and pushes past your walls, as if they have never been there. It wraps its cold hands around you tenderly like a lover. Fills you with passionate dreams of bittersweet love and ambiguous smiles. Sets your heart on fire with hope and promises.

Oh yes, it will give you everything.

It blinds your eyes, and fools your judgement. Words become lies and secrets become fallacies. Your words, its words, shriek and fall apart. They turn to blades, pills and endless thoughts. It wraps itself around you like a leech, sucking, feeding on, festering in every piece of broken past. It burns your heart to cinders and-

So much pain. So much pain. So much pain.

...-nothing.

And then you're a zombie. In a limbo between life and death.

2010-10-05T19:20:00.003+08:00

It tears me apart to realise that I'm not good enough every single time I felt like I were. Tears me apart to know that whatever I hold important between us means nothing, fucking nothing to you at all.

Everything is falling apart. Or maybe it already did.

~~If I told you I loved you and maybe I still do, would that be enough?~~

I'll lose myself in anguish tonight.

Oxymoronic.

2010-10-02T23:50:00.002+08:00

I had to be careful. Inch them in the direction I wanted them to take, use my bait to draw them gently, imperceptibly, toward a prettier story than the one they had their eyes on. A delicate operation. Their eyes start to shine, and their grasp on the little chip of truth would loosen, until it dropped from their hand and fell, disregarded, by the wayside. It never failed. A good story is always more dazzling than a broken piece of truth.
-Diane Setterfield

How long have you stood at the edge staring at the universe, mocking its skies, its stars and moon, its decay and glamour, its paradoxes and contradicions?

Tell me the truth.

An ironic demand.

Dunochrome.

2010-09-19T20:53:00.006+08:00

Away from the prying moon,
you smiled and stole the sunset glow.
My fingers flutter to grasp
your silver breath in slender wisps
as they wrapped themselves lazily
around the baleful clouds.

I'd feed you the stars but my
compliments always fall
wayside

The skies are a strangest hue and
my lips are blue
or maybe purple.

A sunny headache in my mouth; I'm choosing
a lover, a model,
a breathtaking disaster
who steals the water colors from my pictures,

turning my palettes to cinders and ash.
Colors no longer mean a thing

when you're around.
The liquid duochromes bleed into canvas
a perfect moment,
a perfect candid moment.

People rave, not seeing,
the beauty that the shadows withhold,
not comprehending,
my muse, my inspiration, my bowl of fruit,
my flaming ace and flaring ache.

I'm gonna play God today.

2010-09-08T21:07:00.005+08:00

I have decided. Made up my mind. And nothing you say is gonna make me change my mind.

Truth is, half the time I'm with him, all I wanted was to be you. So that we could all be happy. Because I don't fit in here. Don't fit in the space beside him. And I know you want to be where I am now as much as I want to stay.

And boy, you have no idea how your smile used to light up my heart. But now half the time I'm laughing with you, I'm breaking apart with all the hypocrisy and sin.

I don't think I can do this anymore. Everyone's telling me it's gonna be okay. Telling me to hold on to something that isn't even mine from the start. I had always been a fool. Made a fool out of everything we had. So now it's time to make things right.

So this time, I'm gonna play God. Gonna be a mini Jesus saving my own damned world.

Genesis.

2010-09-04T22:40:00.005+08:00

Sometimes you're in a hole.
Where light draws its fingers back and turns its pretty face away.

No one comes around anymore. And no one round here came from here. You don't remember your name sometimes. And everyday, it gets harder and harder to remember.

You wait, expectantly. For something which for the life of you, you can't remember. The voices, people and colors blur at the edges, but sharper when you try to grasp them, cutting, slicing your fingers, mercilessly.

You forget how to breathe sometimes. Let alone scream. So you wait. Doing nothing, but waiting. For someone, something to give you something, anything to to feed on.

Sometimes, a soul walks by or two. Graces pass your hellish existence. And you wait. For their light to rub off against you. For their voices. Their warmth.

But you don't cry for help. You stay here. In this hole. Because rescue is too much of a saintly word. Too saintly for a damned soul like you.

And hope is too bleak for a soul like you.

No one said this would be simple.

2010-09-02T18:08:00.002+08:00

It's as if someone took me apart, and I'm just standing there watching, as I lose grasp of you, myself and my world, bit by bit.

Maybe we could do this again.

2010-08-31T19:41:00.002+08:00

I thought... maybe you understood.
But you don't know me. Never did.

Truth is, I'm terrified.
And even if I don't tell you that, I still need you by my side.

I have no fucking clue how to make you understand, to make you see right through this mess of insecurities. Don't know how to make it through this much of swirling in my head without giving up and crying.

But I guess I blew it. I'm sorry.

I court the loveliest crimes.

2010-08-30T21:11:00.002+08:00

You said you'd shoot the stars.
But bullets make you blush.
Turns out you liked to play, play with knives.
And I hear it gives you a rush.
-AFI, "We've Got The Knife"

So here's the final scene when I finally come clean.
I've watched you for years.
And here's my favorite part;
Where you beg for my heart.
And I disappear.
-AFI, "Darling, I Want To Destroy You"

I may be chasing ghost trains,
Hoping they will arrive at where we used to play.
I swear I'm almost there,
Though I've been wandering for days.
I may be hopping ghost trains,
For they terminate where we used to play in those days.
-AFI, "Where We Used To Play"

I know I'm with strangers I recognize and I realize my own disowned me.

For want of a better escape.

2010-08-27T00:14:00.005+08:00

You used to my world. But now, you piss the hell out of me.
What happened between us? You used to make me smile. But now, you make me cry my eyes out. And you said times have changed. You used to be the one I could trust. But now, you leave me empty, with lies.

Shit happens. Yea that's what everyone says. Thought you were different, a whole lot better than the others out there. But nah, you were just another bastard out to break my heart.

When you can't be yourself with your best friends anymore, it's time to leave. I'm calling a cab, falling asleep on merry-go-rounds and catching the next flight to somewhere, where I swear you can never find me. Not that you would bother to find me, actually. But if you ever do, I'm sorry. I've stayed here too long now. And I never wanna see you again.

2010-08-26T01:15:00.003+08:00

Insomnia's the worst shit ever. *kills time*

Random list of random resolutions till the end of 2012:
Lose weight D8
Save $1000 into my bank account.
Buy eyeshadows from:

Fyrinnae 8D
Shiro Cosmetics (POKEMON EYESHADOWS FTW!)
Detrivore
Aromaleigh (if they ever reopen.)
Sassy Minerals
Naked Palette from Urban Decay ):

Buy band merchandise of:

Alesana
A Skylit Drive
Attack Attack!
Bullet For My Valentine
The GazettE
The Maine
Mayday Parade

Learn drums. For real.
Pick up guitar. Again.
TRAIN MAII FRIGGIN' CHUIZ GROWLS. D8
Attend more gigs. Srsly.
Continue writing my random spinoffs.
Make an effort to do makeup everytime I go out.
Get an ipod or somethang.
Get a pair of Vans. <3
STUDY FOR THE FUCKING PROMOS.
Start shopping/scouring for my wanted clothes list.
Get down to the usual get-over-crush shit.
Attend more cosplay events. (for want to see hawt people 8D)
STOP LOSING MY TEMPER.
AND STOP SWEARING. D8 *points to above and goes... 8D*
Try to be glam. (... this will probably take, liek, forever... and ever... and ever...)
Attend jc prom.
Cut down on caffeine intake, by, liek 50%. (DAI.)
Ace PW. (JOKE.)
Go to sleep naow. D8

Bleh I can't think of anything else D8

2010-08-25T20:40:00.002+08:00

I'm the cause of your headache, undermining your empty words and nonchalant stares.

What else do you want from me?

Fuck off.

We are but random shapes and patterns.

2010-08-19T23:51:00.004+08:00

A colorful fool. The sky is the strangest hue. My words bleed black into pretentious nonchalance. A careless swipe of grays across my skies. A sunny headache in my mouth; I'm choosing a lover who is confusing my world.

Could you hold my hand just for now? Lie to me, because it makes me happy. I'm tired of reality. Tired of walking. Dance a slow song with me. And pretend to be my lover, just for tonight. Tonight, pretense is our master, and my heart is your pawn.

Gone bad.

2010-08-09T22:07:00.002+08:00

I have only myself to blame.

Being stubbornly foolish. Seeing everything with tainted glasses. Everything I touch turns bad. And I refuse to wake up from this dream that I trapped myself in. Thinking that maybe I'm an exception. Your exception. I pretend, and you play along. What a fucking joke.

I'm a train wreck. A disaster. And I'll never be good, or good enough for someone like you. Or in fact anyone.

When your love turns bad, you realize that you have nothing, you are nothing at all. Because if you're incapable of loving, you're incapable of anything.

False hopes and affection.

2010-08-03T22:38:00.004+08:00

One of the worst feelings in life is when you realise that you are nothing to the person who is the world to you. And it gets worse when there's nothing you can do but smile and lie through your teeth, pretending that everything's fine.

You stand there, grinning foolishly, wondering who you're lying to. The world or yourself?

Tell me what to say.

2010-08-01T23:32:00.002+08:00

I'm not happy.

After years of writing and supposed self discovery, I think it's time to come to terms that I'm unhappy. There are many things that make me happy. But I'm not. And I'll probably never be.

Because I don't know what to believe, what to say, what to do anymore. I have trouble acting normal. I have issues with everyone and everything. I'm angsty, needy, scared, insecure, broken. And human.

I don't think I want to be anyone. Not even me. But it's nice to play pretend once in a while. And I don't know what else I can do anyway.

2010-07-26T19:00:00.004+08:00

It frightens me to realize how fragile we humans are. How insubstantial and weak our bodies are. How temporal our existences are. How fleeting our victories are. How easily replaceable we are. We're nothing. Almost nothing. Always running on empty. Always expecting, waiting for someone to pick us up. For something, anything to move us. Only to end up bitterly disappointed in a mess of memories and insecurities.

Hell, why did I even think that someone like me could ever come close to a happy ending?

I'm just another her. Just another pathetic excuse for you to stay around before something better comes along. But it doesn't matter, really. We are all temporary anyway.

Give me something, anything.

2010-07-22T21:28:00.002+08:00

Feels as if someone just punched me in the guts really hard and I'm just lying here, bleeding, hopefully to death.

Eventually it all comes back to this. Eventually you have nothing else.

I don't want anything. Because I'm nothing. A talentless waste of space. I don't need your comfort. Don't need your sympathy. Or your words.

I'm fine. Or I'd rather pretend that I am than fall apart.

I'll say something rash.

2010-07-15T21:37:00.003+08:00

I’m funny. I can make you laugh. I can talk. I can tell you stories. It's not enough though. Cliché. But it's not enough.

I’ll say something rash then; I hate the way we talk. Undressing the words, toeing the lines, unspeaking our invites. We subject ourselves to subtleties, glances and flutters of emotions. Bittersweet words toss and turn in my mouth in a deliberate turmoil. I always find it so hard to catch your feelings so I pretended I know nothing of it. Because I'm not her. Not a dream girl. Cliché. But it doesn’t make me anything like her. Not even close.

Don’t look at me with the corners of your mouth upturned. You’ve no idea how your smile works on me. Lighting up my whole heart, setting it on fire with wanton hopes and silly dreams, burning it to nothing but cinders. I’ll say something impulsive; you got the most amazing smile. Cliché. But it doesn’t make it less true. Doesn’t make my heart start beating slower.

Just sitting there, transfixed, enthralled. Sometimes, I wonder if only, if only, my feelings could translate into words. A little blind courage and hotheaded moments. Maybe things might turn out differently? But the truth is, I’m afraid of giving my best shot, and getting it thrown back at my face. I'm afraid of getting silence. I’m terrified of having hope. Because I don’t think I can take another disappointment. I'm petrified at the prospect of failing. Cliché. But it doesn’t make the fear less real.

If only you knew, the power you have over me, held so flippantly in your hands. You're the sound of a summer sunset. The tingle of the cobalt night. As I sit there, my heart continues to overflow. And I realize I don’t need an affirmation. Or an answer. I don’t want to choose the comfort of knowing over the possibility of true happiness. All I want is to be happy. Cliché.

Happiness is a cliché. Yet it doesn’t make me want it any lesser than anybody else.

Decisions made, never mine.

2010-07-11T13:08:00.002+08:00

The world's a stage and everyone's pretending. Nothing matters, as long as we keep this performance running and empty.

I could lie if you want me to. Could tell you I love you if you want me to. Could score As on my report cards if you wanted me to. Could save the world in a single bound if you wanted me to. Could be the best thing that ever happened to you in your entire fucking life. But truth is, I didn't want to. But not that it made any difference right?

If I was smarter I would leave. If I was smart, I'd do a lot of things. I'd get myself out of this stupid town and let you guys burn to death in your beds, under the blanket of everything you ever want and have.

If only, if only, you could see what you've done to me. Running on empty. Cutting me open, without enough anesthetic. My eyes are closed, but really all I'm doing is reliving your horrors over and over again. Just let me die, I think. Just let me die. Just let me fucking die. Give me a bottle of pills and a couple shots of vodka. Let me sleep forever, I screamed. Let me fucking sleep. But no one hears me, I'm nothing. I'm nothing, nothing but this fucked up kid. Your fucked up kid. The kid that your god accidentally bestowed upon you due to a negligence on your part.

Love? Don't talk to me about this silly empty word.

Happiness.

2010-06-26T20:14:00.003+08:00

"I’ll never understand how someone can rationalize choosing comfort of knowing over the possibility of true happiness."
-Craig Owens

I always find it so hard to catch your feelings when you're always toeing the line. I thought it hard for us to start anew because of what I felt for you. But I realize I don't really wanna know whether you feel the same as me too. Just thinking of the simplest, unexpected things you say to me gets me through the day. And I think that's what happiness should be. I don't need an affirmation. Or an answer. Because I would be selfish to expect that of you and of what we have. And all I want is to be happy. Even if it is for the briefest moments.

So when the time comes, I'll let you go gently, watch you walk away, and maybe realize that I've already gotten over you.

One time too many.

2010-06-25T23:11:00.004+08:00

Sometimes I'd like to scream into a mirror until I'm green in the face and demand "Who?" too.

Don't confine me to this identity and personality that you force upon me. I don't give a shit to who I am. I don't need a definition. Because definitions are but ideals of other stupid people.

Anyway, all I wanted to say today is that only stupid people are breathing. So don't bother proving any more shit or finding out what lies beyond the fucking universe and the unknown, just do us all a favor and be clever for once.

This is who we are.

2010-06-21T14:02:00.004+08:00

We smile at different things, laugh at different contexts, think about different people, and react differently to every situation. This is who I am. And that is who they are. The differences don't set us apart, they blind us. And I'm just another poser trying to fit in to their glam scene and play their games.

I think it's time to be honest with myself.

You're just friends with the person I want you to see. The person everyone wants me to be. The person that wants so much of this acceptance that it hurts to keep on this facade any longer. The person that this place has made me to be.

This time round, I'm cutting all their lies short. I don't really want a group of friends. I don't need them. Always thought I did. But I realise that I've got all I always wanted right beside me. I think I don't mean as much to you as you do to me, but you mean the world to me. Because you see me for who I am. With no judgement. But open arms.

Wasted friendships, fucked young and strewn away. This is my ultimatum. Better luck next time, I guess. All that's left is a good cry under my blanket and when my heart finally stops breaking, all I really want is your applause. Because I think that's all that really matters to me.

2010-06-17T20:19:00.002+08:00

What I want is a knife, a bottle of vodka, some juice, some pills and sleep. To fall asleep under bright neon city lights. No dreams. Nothing. Blank. Just sleep. To fall in between the silence and noise, while the world breathes on without me.

Then, I'll just dance and dance behind my eyes.

And maybe, I'd whisper the things that I would never say. To you. To myself. To everyone. These feelings. Words. They are burning the back of my throat, spilling from the tip of my tongue, spreading across my fingertips, coursing through my veins, and fizzing up my nose.

And I'd never return to the land of living.

Because that's what I need really.

2010-06-06T16:32:00.001+08:00

A sense of emptiness.
No amount of writing can soothe me. Someone, something flicked on the switch, and now, we're just waiting for the bombshell to drop on us.

Fuck this.

Unspoken

2010-06-05T14:25:00.003+08:00

We subject ourselves to subtleties,
Glances and flutters of emotions.
Bittersweet words toss and turn in my mouth
In a deliberate turmoil,
Left untouched.

Yet if only, if only,
my feelings could translate into words
And a little blind courage and hotheaded moments,
Things may tun out differently.
But I don't really want to know.

2010-05-28T00:02:00.002+08:00

The few same songs on repeat.

Got melancholy, depression and angst to last me through these nights. And a bottle of vodka to drown out the voices when they get too loud.

These words are stuck. I don't really know what I want.

I need...

2010-05-25T18:54:00.003+08:00

I don't know how to feel anymore.
To put it simply, I'm not happy.

I need a break. From everything. From duties, decisions, school, people and life.
I need a knife, some pills, a bathtub for dramatic setting and a white tiled bathroom.
I need an ending.

And stop asking, because if I start talking, I might start crying and never stop. because what's wrong in me is what's right in all of you.

I'm breathless and disconnected.

2010-05-16T13:54:00.003+08:00

The best mistake of this whole weekend.
Screwing your whole life up with one click of the mouse.

All I want is deliverance.
Or maybe just some fucking pills to get me through the nights and times like this when I let stupidity rule my head.

A couple of Panadol. Vodka. Repeat.
That's all I really wanna do for the rest of my life.

Oh and I really do want a fucking club to hit you so hard across the face that all the blood just spurts right out from your mouth, nose and ears. And then I'll let repetition take over my actions.

We're all fucked.

2010-05-12T19:48:00.004+08:00

Every night, my mouth graces the bottle rim, slowly devouring, swallowing the dark viscous liquid. All the while praying, hoping for sleep. Just sleep. I'm running out of luck. Of cough syrup. Of everything.

I lie awake. You speak. I hear you crying in my ear, your pathetic sobs warm and real. Your ploy of deceit, your manipulation plays out painfully clear right before my eyes again and again.. And I witness my fall. Again and again. The blood, the gore, the pain, the death.

I look into the mirror. Foolish, ugly, tragic and sleepless. The blood under my eyes are clogging up. Dark shadows upon wide windows of fear. My hair, your hands. My face, your hands. Everything goes back to you. My hands, your face. My hands, your hair. My face, your face. Your everything. Every single fucking thing. That I still remember in painful clarity. That I can't stop myself from remembering.

I flinch when I hear your name. I stop when I see someone like you. I change the way I speak and act. I change my hairstyle. I change my face. Change my lips. My eyes. My nose. My smile. My frown. My ears. My everything.

Yet, it still hurts. Fucking hurts.

And for every undeserving tear I've shed for you, I hope you never know. Because I want to start anew.

Truth is, all I want is to forget.
To fall asleep into my personal coma and never wake up so that I don't have to see your fucking face again.

mofoshizzlezehdrizzlemuzzlehitler?!

2010-05-05T21:39:00.002+08:00

Your hands, my hands. Your eyes, my eyes. Mind games. Love games.

If only these feelings could translate into words.

Some words lack a certain weight.

2010-04-27T22:28:00.003+08:00

And if to narrate is to live, then I'm on the right track, am I not?

But some words, dead words, lack a certain weight.

A sense of sluggishness and tiredness overcomes me. I feel like burning the sky, the houses, the faces, the trees, to burn them all down and dance in their ashes. It's been so long since I felt this, or rather, allowed myself to feel this way. Today, I let my guard down. Today, I let myself down. I let the people around me down. My facade, my fallacy slipped. It felt like I went back into four years ago, that despised and pitiful creature.

How can I hate that side of me so much, yet embrace it with such silent and twisted relish?

Nestled and protected in your arms, your womb, for all my life, but you never knew me, never saw me, never heard me. You don't know me. Am I a by-product of your foolish actions? Or have I paved the way to who I am today?

Funny how humans push the blame to everyone but themselves.

This descent the abyss, this talk about disappearing and nothingness, is this what I truly want? Have I ever wanted? Or craved for anything? It feels right, these salty tracks down my cheeks. Because everything else feels wrong, awry and stale.

What happens if you realise that whatever you have believed is only a dream, and the nightmare is only but starting?

Heartbreak and rhyme.

2010-04-25T17:27:00.001+08:00

The sky is red. and the city beneath it is like a giant gray slug. Everything tips back and falls onto a grayscale of notingness and everythingness. The city lurches, trying to throw me off, I teeter off course. With my face on the dirty ground, mouth tasting the filthy dirt, I wonder, wonder again, why do I subject myself to this rollercoaster of emotions?

I refused to see it. Dreaming is a sin. Foolishness, a felony. Dreams, fantasies and hopes, the cruelty of them. They set your heart alight, blazing with passion and burn you to cinders, ashes, till you're nothing. Nothing at all. I thread on rainbows and skyscrapers, breathing in the dizzy air of ecstasy and inspiration, oblivious to the coming end. But reality always has its last laugh. This voice inside my head is screaming, not whispering, but yelling. A fucking talentless waste of space. And I fall. I burn the skies and fall to the ground. Hoping to be dead when I hit the ground, with glassed-over eyes.

I run, trying to shake this slugginess off. Gaining momentum, my legs pumping with adrenaline. If I could outrun time, I could outrun the city, and get the hell out of here. When in actual fact, all I am doing is rummaging through the drawers trying to find a bottle of pills to knock back with a strong brew of coffee. This broken radio inside my head, playing the same old songs over and over again, my motions in sync with heartbreak and rhyme.

The terrible clarity of things send me reeling, retching all over the floor. I've got your smile upside down. All wrong, yet you still smile. There is nothing here. Nothing worth redemption. I'm everywhere, but here. This must be death, I think. The whitness of a soul, and the plagues of nothingness residing in me, eroding, corroding. Then this unbearable roaring in my ears. My eyes water, my hearts disintegrates, my throat shrieks, its sound lost in the reverberation of the monstrous cacophony of noise.

"Film me." you say. And everything stops. And I stop. The noise dissipates. Your voice crashes into my skull, right into my brain. I tremble and feel the pouring rain upon my cheeks. The roulette spins, fast, and the colors bleed through my eyes. Faster, faster, I spin, your smile falters, your voice twists, your eyes bleed, your hands breaks away, our eyes, our hands, your words, my dreams, everything, something, then suddenly, nothi-....

Darkness.

I wake up, and find the space beside my bed. A space full of emptiness, as it has always been.

Like seven inches from midday sun.

2010-04-22T20:07:00.004+08:00

For that moment, I'm tossing, turning. I look away. My heart sinks. My stomach hurts, at the sight in fornt of me. I turn away. See you looking at me at the corner of my eye. My head turns again. This time in your direction. And our eyes meet. Our eyes widen. I sit there, transfixed, enthralled. The shimmer of diamonds in your eyes. And I feel myself falling. The corners of your mouth upturned. A smile that could power the current throughout town.

If only you knew, the power you have over me, held so flippantly in your hands. You're the sound of a summer sunset. The tingle of the cobalt night. As I sit there, my heart continues to overflow.

And I wonder, do I really wanna cross that line?

The death of a simple belief.

2010-04-01T22:58:00.004+08:00

I'm standing here, with nothing to my name. But a black bag and the attire I stand in. No name, no history, this is the story of a hollowed man.I'm waiting for something, someone to whisk me off my feet and wake me up.Somewhere where happiness exists within the grasp of my fragile fingers. Somewhere different from here. Somewhere where freedom is an indulgence and not a choice.

Something inside here is burning.
I'm burning my wings, my beautiful angel wings.
The feathers are metling, melting, into each other, into a gnarled and twisted mess of memories and liabilities.

I watch my hands burst in flames before me. I retch your name over and over again. In fact, I retch names, prayers, profanities, lyrics over and over again.
Nothing happens. I'm still burning.

The city lights burn white into my head.
Gaping wide holes to remind me of times now lost.
To remind me of everything that I am not.
The fictionettes spread their legs wide open upon the plasma embodiments that I hide about myself today.

I'm screaming, shrieking for someone, something.
What's wrong? What's wrong with her eyes?

What the fuck is wrong with you?
Quit staring at me. Or you will fall right through this cracks that crawl right into me. I will be the next to fail you. And you will fall too, my tragic hero.
This lack of empathy, sympathy only fuels my regret and angst.

Go on, tear me apart. What are you waiting for? For me to run? For me to hide?

A pale face stares into the dark. I fall, I stumble, I break. Crimson flowers blossom everywhere.
I can't see them in the dark though. What am I doing? Who am I to them? To anyone?

Can anyone hear me? Do you hear this heart burning?
Hear, the sizzle of the blood boiling, the popping of arteries, and
the grizzly sound of the heart shrivelling and blackening.
It's dead. It's fucking dead.

But these eyes are still wide open, staring, living dead.

Who the fuck are you? Why do you stand here in this place and pretend to be me?
Why can't I wake up from this nightmare? I'm disconnected. I'm falling.

Don't catch me. I need to break.
My break. To fall right onto the ground, break every single bones in me, burst into flames, reduce myself to ashes. To roll dead on the ground like a bird, my glassy eyes at the back of my head.

And feel the pain of the end. The end of my everything. The end of this dream called life.
The end of this life called hell.

2010-03-24T21:12:00.004+08:00

I feel like shit. It's coming back again.

No matter how much I try, it's not enough. You'll never let me go, would you? Just cut me up and step all over me. Get it over and done with. Why don't you just kill me already? I'm sick of this already

It's another day tmr. I hate this life of monotony and routine. Nothing seems right, even though the pieces are falling into their rightful places. What's wrong with me? I feel like taking a break from everything, and just run away from here. I swear, I swear, that I will get out of this shithole asap.

I need to write. I need time. I need everything that I'm not allowed to have.

I'm sick of everything. I'm sorry, guys.

The Mad Don't Always Speak Pt. 2

2010-02-14T23:46:00.005+08:00

(A continuation of a what would be probably a story plot.)

Not tonight, boy? Not tonight? Tonight, it seems, the moon forgot to fall down. My eyes are drawing pretty circles of empty and the rain comes down in crimson and violet.

I asked myself what was the beginning and the end. Doesnt matter to me anymore, boy. I sing tonight, like a nightingale, your nightingale. And I wait here, in this haunted cell, for my king to redeem me and bring me home. But don't forget boy! I am the pawn in your master plan! The core that keeps you here! Don't you fucking forget that!

Lovers, so in love with themselves like wet sand to their feet, write their names obsessedly on insubstantial medium. For hope that the waves will carry their hopes to reality land. The walls my canvas, the veins my paint pots, Another picture resurfaces tonight. Tomorrow, they'll scream and sink to their knees. But let's paint and sing tonight.

Listen to me! Hear my convictions and witness my faith, nothing feels real anymore. I'm not gonna try to get out of here anymore. So I'll wait, tonight. Just tonight, boy. And you will return to this abyss with me. We'll go further down, further than we have ever went, but not tonight, not tonight.

The Mad Don't Always Speak.

2010-02-11T22:18:00.004+08:00

Tonight, I retreat into my black above. Tonight, not tonight, girl, not tonight. I need to reconnect with my broken words and carve them into my bones. Let me nurse my wilted love and wounded soul. Peel back these bandages these doctors have restrained upon me and see the scars of countless, mindless things.

Tonight, I seek bitter solitude in this blackhole alone. Sing to me, I may hear you, girl. Talk to me, I'll try to keep up with you. But dont wait for me to follow through. I have been lazy for too long, hiding for weeks in these bed of piss and sweat.

Draw the pictures, my pretty lady, and I'll provide the words. I am the only one who sees the beauty in your insanity that eats you alive. But tonight, think I'll write for me this time. I've got this whole box of words tangled all up in a knot screaming your name. If i don't unleash them, thye might turn upon me and devour me whole.

Sing to me! Your sweet melodious voice that seems to hide every other dirty little secrets around these dark corners. These walls around us with your pictures and my words; they are our only companions. I am your only companion. Listen to my ragged breathing and feel my damned existence. I'm still here. I'm always here. But I won't be here tonight. I can hear you but I'm not listening. Not tonight, girl, not tonight.

2010-01-27T09:25:00.003+08:00

Don't tell me everything is gonna be okay.
Trust me, sweetheart, nothing is ever gonna be the same again.

I won't let history repeat itself. I won't go away, I won't be done wrong.

In the beginning, there was the end.

2010-01-20T00:04:00.004+08:00

All hail the kings and queens of chaos, come down here and form a guilty ensemble tonight. Kneel down and bow your heads, sweethearts. Witness my thoughts and hear my words, for tonight will be the night of condemntion and convictions.

Don't mistake this for teenage angst. Don't pass it off as another cheap shot for happiness. You're in for a wild ride, my love. Hold on tight, for life is but a passing dream. This time, I bleed for my dreams. And I'm gonna bleed for all it's worth.

It's their time to rise. Watch as they rise up to the surface and regroup their armies. Watch as they crumble your conscience and blow your fucking mind away. Watch as they shred your sanity and make you question the things you never thought before.

On my honour and life, I swear, I offer you nothing but the truth. And trust me, the truth will not set you free.

Watch me.

2009-12-26T22:04:00.002+08:00

My mind is creating a desolate ensemble.

I have too many places to wander, but sometimes I wonder too much. I'm tired of pretending. I really dont want this anymore.

Senseless, worthless thats all I am to them. A mindless body with no life just like foetuses in formaldehyde.

Introduce me to this lunatic inside of you. This deception that is trust. Pretend with me. Colors are emerging from those awful shades of grey. Return to me, into my arms. Come close to hear my whispers, honey. And hold my magic tight.

Let's have a rendezvous to my insanity which keeps me up at night. An prelude to my personal demons.

Broken.

2009-12-06T22:05:00.004+08:00

Dearest you, I hope this letter never finds you.

Fragments of memories lost in the vastness of endless time only to be discovered now.
Your broken words only to be stumbled upon after a careless click. The desperation and desolation from your words broke my heart.

How did you felt at that time?

I would like to say I'm sorry, but sorry doesn't say enough. I lost grasp of you. Like a child losing grasp of his helium balloon. My words were lost in the midst of all the noise and music. My words have always failed you.

I admit it, I still think about those times when we had those awesome meetings. So I'll drown these memories until this bottle turns empty. And then I'll pray to God. Pray that these feelings end. Because I don't think I can take these sleepless dreams anymore.

I have always loved you. And I have always failed you.

Truth is, I wasn't there when you needed me. I could have been.
And I think I didn't bother to.

Goodbye Friendship. Hello Heartache.
Fuck me. Let me drink this night away.

A prelude to a dream called life.

2009-11-08T20:11:00.003+08:00

I know you see me in a different way; the longer you stay beside me. I'm sorry, but you stared too long and I let you in too deep. It's time for you to go, time for me to let go. Leave before I disintegrate and burn into flames right before your eyes. The world is bleeding colors and I think I'm on self destruction again.

This time, I'll sit at the same old place, humming the same old tunes, while watching you go. I'll sit here and lie to you that I won't wait for another person like you.

Have you seen my...?

2009-11-02T18:21:00.002+08:00

Call it a sickness if you may. Or a syndrome if you might. But the colors are bleeding right from the hollows of my eyes. The sky is gray, the clouds are blue, very blue. The sun is the strangest hue. The birds are all dead, scattered all around, glassy-eyed and not a sound. My words unravel to my feet like moths upon old scarves-...

...dear Sir, have you seen my happiness recently?

I lost it a couple of years back when I realised that everything is never going to be the same anymore.

Some nights I lie awake and try to grasp that all-too-familiar feeling that overwhelms me, that tears apart my whole being, and brings me to my knees. There are some things I wish I didnt do. Some things I wish I did. Some things I want to do. But I never found the courage to.

Dear Sir, have you seen my passio-...

...I'm really sorry to bother you. I should have known that the day that I chose truth over lies would be the day where my pride, my dreams will no longer cease to be mine.

Bottom line is, I'm too afraid, too empty, too nothing, to accomplish anything at the end of the day.

Dear Sir, could you tell me that life isn't just like that?

I'm sorry. For the all things that I have done. For all the things I could have done. And for the things I should have done.

I'm really sorry.

Self justification

2009-10-18T02:22:00.002+08:00

Here you are, on this treacherous brink of mere consciousness and how many times have you wandered on the sidelines?

Come back home you're all alone! Everyone is waiting here to say the words to make you stay.

And what's the difference betweeen here and there?

What difference would it make?
Maybe a painkiller would, or probably an apology.
But then again, a step forward would always be easier, isn't it?

I'm burning my wings, my beautiful angel wings.

2009-10-15T20:37:00.002+08:00

Black cascade, a fragile note hung trembling
In the thick white air: a swansung requiem
To the degeneration of myriad miraculous visions.
Then tell me, what did you see before you spiralled
So recklessly into the abyss?
Did the rainbows taste sweeter
As you tightrope-walked along the edge?

Without meaning, what are we?
No longer foolish enough to care.

Wistfully oblivious,
You stare through smeared windows
At rudely naked trees,
Aggressively still
Against a backdrop
Of mindless movement.

I hear a faint whisper
Of double-glazed wind,
But in here
Nothing can touch us:
Nothing can penetrate
This grey shroud.

In the hollows of mirror glass
The angel's eggs are cracked:
Stillborn and blushing blue,
They abandon themselves
To the dying of the light.

Away from the sanctuary of terminal sanity,
Through the blustering raw streets
Of strangely everyday normality,
I am awash with melancholy:
The image of you
Following me
Beyond the perimeter
Of our detaching;
Lines of your fractured poetry
Fish-hooked onto my tongue:
The dim resonance of psychic blood.
I am bereft,
Left questioning
What I have become.

Asylum Antechamber (Incomplete), Dee Rimbaud

2009-10-08T21:06:00.002+08:00

Damn jackassed depressed ^ 1000000. D:

I'm poor, like fuck. But I wanna buy 346857632 t-shirts.
And I should be studying. But I'm drooling at 1316546764 unattainable shirts online yo.
And I have serious problems with stringing proper sentences in english, not to mention write my stories. I love my cheena-ness man. D:

In addition to all the above mentioned, I havent been practising my growling for days! WHUTZEFFFF. /headbangers'headbutt on wall.

HMFJ, I wish O's are not going to come in the next 500 years. And that I have one million usd to splurge on t-shirts, t-shirts and more t-shirts. (And not to mention those oh-so-gorgeous pants damn. :D) AND THAT I CAN HAVE SOME FRIGGIN' SELF CONTROL TO GET OFF THE COM AND START MUGGING LIKE NAO.

Goodbye freedom, hello mugging.