Monday, November 9, 2009
the soundtrack from house of cubes.
it's liberating to know what i have written here isn't being read,though there's a chance of it being read anyways.
but.no buts.
it isn't liberating,it's more like.
i have terrible use of english.
difficult to put into words.
though the emotions that tell me that they want to be written here whisper loudly.
but i don't have much emotions.
so it's more of thoughts processed and stored,frustrated and being put into pending.
i don't need to tell anyone about it,right?
i mean,it's good enough to know my own thinking,rather than telling it to someone, and he/she has a different perspective,and in turn affects the relationship.
i can't share whats in my head,my heart,my soul.
i can't cos i don't know how to,don't know whether i want to,and know that no one wants to.
so i decided from young,i'd be listening.
listening to the words whispered,shouted,spoken,screamed,cried,laughed.
listened to the words etched on the webs of the internet.
listened to alphabets on the messages people send.
listened to the words oozing out from body languages.
from their eyes,their hands,their hugs,their lips,their everything.
i listened,learned.
and over the time,i realised,i actually like it.
very much.
it's like a one-sided window with the mirror facing the confesser,if that is even a word.
and i'm just listening.spectating.
and it gets irritating when people wanna listen to me instead.
i have nothing to say.zilch.
nothing at all.
but.no buts.
it isn't liberating,it's more like.
i have terrible use of english.
difficult to put into words.
though the emotions that tell me that they want to be written here whisper loudly.
but i don't have much emotions.
so it's more of thoughts processed and stored,frustrated and being put into pending.
i don't need to tell anyone about it,right?
i mean,it's good enough to know my own thinking,rather than telling it to someone, and he/she has a different perspective,and in turn affects the relationship.
i can't share whats in my head,my heart,my soul.
i can't cos i don't know how to,don't know whether i want to,and know that no one wants to.
so i decided from young,i'd be listening.
listening to the words whispered,shouted,spoken,screamed,cried,laughed.
listened to the words etched on the webs of the internet.
listened to alphabets on the messages people send.
listened to the words oozing out from body languages.
from their eyes,their hands,their hugs,their lips,their everything.
i listened,learned.
and over the time,i realised,i actually like it.
very much.
it's like a one-sided window with the mirror facing the confesser,if that is even a word.
and i'm just listening.spectating.
and it gets irritating when people wanna listen to me instead.
i have nothing to say.zilch.
nothing at all.
zest of life.
it's been downhill wayward soul.
but there's a new gang in town.in its infancy,but with its purity.
grow,hoodlums,grow.
the old has been casted aside by many,now a new breed lives.
but there's a new gang in town.in its infancy,but with its purity.
grow,hoodlums,grow.
the old has been casted aside by many,now a new breed lives.
prevention of regret.
you let it eat you up,devour you,you embrace it,you feel accompanied,satisfied.
then you get older,you get alone.then that same loneliness is because of what you let devour you when you were younger,impressionable,searching,looking for something that you think would make you whole.
the memories.it would only be painful to your chest.
the connections things have to it would only serve to remind you,torture you.
the things you endured through just to lose it in the end.
the way it changes it's course,perhaps in you,perhaps in the other.
the time it leaves you.
the time it leaves the other.
the pitiful way you hang on hoping it will come back to you.
keep hanging.and hanging.and still hanging.
the way you want,but you know you can never have.
the stupidity of being affected when it doesn't even realise you.
doesn't care for you.
doesn't want you.
doesn't need you.
it isnt for you.
it never was,it never will.
it can give you what you think you need.
learn well sanserlau.you don't have alot of time left.
we're coming for you.get ready.
i know it.i'll kill it before it even bites.in cold-blood.
then you get older,you get alone.then that same loneliness is because of what you let devour you when you were younger,impressionable,searching,looking for something that you think would make you whole.
the memories.it would only be painful to your chest.
the connections things have to it would only serve to remind you,torture you.
the things you endured through just to lose it in the end.
the way it changes it's course,perhaps in you,perhaps in the other.
the time it leaves you.
the time it leaves the other.
the pitiful way you hang on hoping it will come back to you.
keep hanging.and hanging.and still hanging.
the way you want,but you know you can never have.
the stupidity of being affected when it doesn't even realise you.
doesn't care for you.
doesn't want you.
doesn't need you.
it isnt for you.
it never was,it never will.
it can give you what you think you need.
learn well sanserlau.you don't have alot of time left.
we're coming for you.get ready.
i know it.i'll kill it before it even bites.in cold-blood.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Thursday, October 8, 2009
you have it worse.
amid the F1 flies and the ever thirsty but never get a chance to feast on people's blood without risking dying mosquitoes and the noisy cicadas singing their song and the cranky sun shining strongly down the ground and the welcomed rain pelting down the windscreen and the ever lovely and loved clouds,there she was.
it was most probably due to being delirious with boredom,of having nothing to do,of just lying there,waiting for time to pass,waiting for the thursday to arrive, listening to the inane chatter of an old timer, and an older timer, trying to keep cool,not shaving because there wasnt a need to,drinking water,peeing silver,holding faeces for 4 nights and 5 days,listening to music,reading a thousand splendid suns, lying on that dreaded but thanked for safari bed,checking the phone for any contacts,none,playing with the TRS set with other drivers who were equally bored, smoking the life away,eating,talking,thinking,cards,prata and.
or it was just the way she appears in my mind,not all the time,but always sometimes.
what you did was unforgivable,but at the instance i remember you,i'd always forgive you.
you were too young to decide,i was too young and had pride.
things could've been different,much different.much different.
it was most probably due to being delirious with boredom,of having nothing to do,of just lying there,waiting for time to pass,waiting for the thursday to arrive, listening to the inane chatter of an old timer, and an older timer, trying to keep cool,not shaving because there wasnt a need to,drinking water,peeing silver,holding faeces for 4 nights and 5 days,listening to music,reading a thousand splendid suns, lying on that dreaded but thanked for safari bed,checking the phone for any contacts,none,playing with the TRS set with other drivers who were equally bored, smoking the life away,eating,talking,thinking,cards,prata and.
or it was just the way she appears in my mind,not all the time,but always sometimes.
what you did was unforgivable,but at the instance i remember you,i'd always forgive you.
you were too young to decide,i was too young and had pride.
things could've been different,much different.much different.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
perception point
its getting difficult
to breathe
to eat
to drink
to live
to see
to feel
to smell
to taste
to expect
to live up to expectations
to care
to share
to wonder
to amaze
to be amazed
to hold on
to hope on
to carry on
makan time,everything's okay already
or so it is
to breathe
to eat
to drink
to live
to see
to feel
to smell
to taste
to expect
to live up to expectations
to care
to share
to wonder
to amaze
to be amazed
to hold on
to hope on
to carry on
makan time,everything's okay already
or so it is
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