from one who was blanketed

dissappointment breeds hopelessness. for whereupon you once understand something so well, and it keeps biting you to have you realise that maybe it is not worthy of any contemplation of awaiting for. for you think of it as being unworthy. for why should it be, when you realise that it is no longer worth your time of day, as it has not given you any time of day.

tired and drained. you figured the best way out is freezing yourself in the zone of sedation. sedated form you are. for it blocks out all forms of feelings, inclusive of dissappointment which has brought upon this point.

right is what you have. choice is what you have made.

all, that is left....one soul that was blinded by its own self-indulgement that has put you on that pedastal so high, stuck in admiration, forgotten to have let you down on ground. something that has to be done. for you are human. forgotten that you were, in all its awe of admiration.

now, left with remorse and regret for failing. failing and leading to point of dissappointment and hopeless sedation.

only with two words left...

sorry. love.

rime

Dismantled and alone… both of it my life story.

The former is a corollary of my constant naivety in believing in love and the latter, a choice as a consequence of it.

Time has been invariable in confirming to me what I’ve always known to be true – that I’m not meant to have my heart feel liberated.

The abundance of nay-sayers have proudly tried to embark on a journey to prove this otherwise, yet none have ascended the heights to face their fear.

The imprudence on my part is unforgivable, the romantic in me is now obsolete.

Sadness is not at work, for I think I have been completely sedated.

I have written off caring and being cared for, I have been brought to an end.

I now comprehend why they always say that “love is for fools”, for I was once there.

Bear in mind that I now fail life, as life has failed me.



Ice. Indefinitely.

GUILTY : By DESIGNATION

It should be decreed a fact that the world ought to be turned 180 degrees so that it’s on the right track.

At this junction, the higher up in the hierarchy of vocation management you wonder, the diminishing capacity for intelligence is obvious. The ability to formulate tangible and unassailable reasoning seems to be a tedious undertaking.

For solely this day, disposition was mystically an occupational jester. Performing for a credulous audience of superiors, though merely in stratum. In the wake of every illustrious entertainer, rests an even greater sovereign – the psyche.

The jester bids time for its retribution. The calm has it’s fury… quiescent til it vanishes.

my labyrinth of dreams

The time before visions begin lies the subconscious telling that possibly the best thing would be to cease waking. The heart and mind forms the antidote to time and space... dreams are where I feel I should be, my labyrinth, my home.

Strangers walk into the spotlight as invited as the rain. Take control and leave leaving substance cleansed of virtue. Blue traces of black and red. Infliction is not an option and suffering is the order of life.

Feeling to see is failing to act. Secondary visuals often stem from cause and effect, a little too late consequentially. Opinionated expectations vary greatly from outcomes prepared in advance. No one ever learns, just follow the blackhole back to the safety of fear.

Free-falling..... is the greatest joy of flying. No boundaries but those set by gravity. Limitations are fingers before a face, checking for signs of humanity. Liquidized diamonds in the eyes taken over by cubic zirconia or even moissanites, reflecting impurities of desolation.

Specialists are but pretentious attempts to clarify flaws and blemishes. Polishing, promising, pledging their undying allegiance to preserve the constitutional right to proclaim adoration. As much as it makes sense that mere requests for forgiveness should evaporate all sufferings of compassion.

My labyrinth of dreams bequeaths the sanctuary of promise, removing any adulterations provisioned by the world. In this emancipated domain of dreams, I am the flavor of my impression.

Dreams are my labyrinths, my eternal and lavishly humble abode.

the monologue of paintings

The monologue of a painting
the emotions of a color;
The air between each brush
the temper of a slave;
The material of an animal
the harshness of the outcome;
The credit of all that's natural
the entity that it gave.

The monologue of a painting
the physical of a stroke;
The twisted kind of approval
the insights are past vague;
The aptitudes are all square
the sounds are all hollow;
The procelain beauty of words
The sugar is thy plague.

The acceptance is pretense
The laughs are insecurity;
The words are meaningful
The words are as meaningless;
The best sounds of a painting
The given are those unsure;
The monologue of a painting
The epitome of character.

the fool

How long will I keep on lying to myself?
How long will I keep replacing the black & greys with rainbows?

The dam that holds all of it in is streched beyond cracks
I miss the support and comfort that I once had
More than ever.

I miss being that integral part of someone's life
That their very being was based on your existence
The selfish belief that you were meant to be.

Foolish dreams...

And yet another optimistic fool tries to stay intact
Thinking or rather hoping that someone will throw a lifeline
And then again, will / does that lifeline follow the same beat.

Salt flows to no avail...

I am but an entity of air and dreams
I am a non-matter
I am of thoughts and illusion

I miss being a part of two.

just another day

It's been a while... and the world still goes round.

Walnut & Vanilla
Tea & Pomegranate
Carol & Terese
Sleep & Soap Powder
Lines & Jeans
Time out & TV
Air-con & Heat
Pink drinks & Rain
Foosball & Laughter
Night & Sunglasses
Cheesecake & Waiting
Botak & Nasi Lemak
Merry & Married
Phone calls & Bitching
Brownies & Scripts ;)
Money & Bimbo's
Challenge & Sweat
Asthma & Games
Location & Memories
Computers & Messages
ATM's & Yellow
Credit cards & Night markets
Idiot Police (oopppsss... meant Idiots & Police) :D


A million variations in a day. A million variations with a million possibilities, and a million thoughts. A million ways to be happy and another million to be sad. Strike a balance and you've got hope. :)