"Everything that humans can imagine, is a possibility in reality." -Physicist Willy Karen.
Something I found worth remembering while reading a manga.
Showing posts with label `09 Flashbacks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label `09 Flashbacks. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Thursday, December 17, 2009
NTS
This shows how much I have no life, but I need to write it down or I might lose track of them.
TV Shows-
House
HowIMetYourMother
BigBangTheory
Bones
NCIS
Fringe
Dexter
Manga-
Fairy Tail - UTD
Mirai Nikki - UTD
FullMetalAlchemist - UTD
Naruto - UTD
One Piece - UTD
Zetsuen no Tempest - UTD
Monster Soul - CH XX
Yu Yu Hakusho - CH 10
Flame of Recca - CH XX
Law of Ueki - CH XX
Mahou Sensei Negima - CH XX
Ayashi no Ceres - CH XX
Bleach - CH XX
Darker Than Black - CH XX
I'll add more once I remember them.
* UTD = up to date
TV Shows-
House
HowIMetYourMother
BigBangTheory
Bones
NCIS
Fringe
Dexter
Manga-
Fairy Tail - UTD
Mirai Nikki - UTD
FullMetalAlchemist - UTD
Naruto - UTD
One Piece - UTD
Zetsuen no Tempest - UTD
Monster Soul - CH XX
Yu Yu Hakusho - CH 10
Flame of Recca - CH XX
Law of Ueki - CH XX
Mahou Sensei Negima - CH XX
Ayashi no Ceres - CH XX
Bleach - CH XX
Darker Than Black - CH XX
I'll add more once I remember them.
* UTD = up to date
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Double Poems :)
Seeing as I haven't updated in a while, I present you with TWO poems :)
Enjoy !
To Be Human.
To be human is to be imperfect, little quirks and flaws.
To look past the imperfection, and portray patience.
To be human is to error, make mistakes, and take the fall.
Or place blame on someone else, and sneak around the truth.
To be human is to lie, exagerate the truth, alter what it really is.
Adjust it, tamper it, adapt it, turn ignorance into bliss.
To be human is to understand, see past the walls insecurity put together.
Because judging one's insecurities is like disregarding a well thought out letter.
To be human is to feel the emotions set free regardless if it's sincere.
Regardless if it was faked, isolation is what humans really fear.
To be human is to protect what one holds dear.
To throw their life away to keep their loved ones away from fear.
To be human is to love, and feel that love given back.
To know guilt, regret, pride, lust and whatever you lack.
To be human is to smile, ear to ear, regardless of the pain.
To be human is to smile, ear to ear, to hide away the pain.
To be human is to feel guilt, and repentance when you've done wrong.
To be human is to break apart, lose pieces, only to come back up, strong.
To be human is to give away your heart, regardless of the future up ahead.
To be human is to take risks, regardless of the future bleeding out red.
To be human is to grow up, living the adventure of the real world.
Fill out dreams and goals, and find that perfect girl.
Raise a family, grow old and pass away.
Live life to the fullest and still live with regrets of that one day.
To be human is complicated, and simple at the same time.
But I don't want to be human, because they never have enough time.
The Monster Inside Me.
I was walking in the depths of my mind.
I came across this room with a cage inside.
I saw a figure in the cage before me.
He was bound by weights on his shoulder.
He turned his head and his eyes shined red.
He growled at me and muttered a few words.
I must've misheard and he walked towards me.
Stood right in front of me.
He smiled at me and my body shuddered at the glance of his crooked grin.
As I stared into his dark, shallow eyes, I could feel my body trembling at the thought that this monster is inside of me.
You could feel the evil seep through.
I wondered what created it and how could I undo this monster from being born.
But its like I was staring into a mirror.
Except every scar, bruise, pain and thorn was visibly present.
And in the abscenece of acceptance, this evil in front of me was born.
I could see the events that made him stronger flash before me.
Every time I felt alone.
Every moment I faced depression.
Every night where I am left alone wtih thoughts.
Every opportunity my heart was crushed before my very eyes.
Every brick that I covered myself with.
Every soul that abandoned me.
Every smile that was faked.
Every word that inspired deciet.
Every tear that drops
Every line I write.
Every poem I compose.
Every picture I capture.
Every breath I take.
I gave life to this monster.
I shuddered once again at the thought that this monster is inside me.
No, this monster is me.
Enjoy !
To Be Human.
To be human is to be imperfect, little quirks and flaws.
To look past the imperfection, and portray patience.
To be human is to error, make mistakes, and take the fall.
Or place blame on someone else, and sneak around the truth.
To be human is to lie, exagerate the truth, alter what it really is.
Adjust it, tamper it, adapt it, turn ignorance into bliss.
To be human is to understand, see past the walls insecurity put together.
Because judging one's insecurities is like disregarding a well thought out letter.
To be human is to feel the emotions set free regardless if it's sincere.
Regardless if it was faked, isolation is what humans really fear.
To be human is to protect what one holds dear.
To throw their life away to keep their loved ones away from fear.
To be human is to love, and feel that love given back.
To know guilt, regret, pride, lust and whatever you lack.
To be human is to smile, ear to ear, regardless of the pain.
To be human is to smile, ear to ear, to hide away the pain.
To be human is to feel guilt, and repentance when you've done wrong.
To be human is to break apart, lose pieces, only to come back up, strong.
To be human is to give away your heart, regardless of the future up ahead.
To be human is to take risks, regardless of the future bleeding out red.
To be human is to grow up, living the adventure of the real world.
Fill out dreams and goals, and find that perfect girl.
Raise a family, grow old and pass away.
Live life to the fullest and still live with regrets of that one day.
To be human is complicated, and simple at the same time.
But I don't want to be human, because they never have enough time.
The Monster Inside Me.
I was walking in the depths of my mind.
I came across this room with a cage inside.
I saw a figure in the cage before me.
He was bound by weights on his shoulder.
He turned his head and his eyes shined red.
He growled at me and muttered a few words.
I must've misheard and he walked towards me.
Stood right in front of me.
He smiled at me and my body shuddered at the glance of his crooked grin.
As I stared into his dark, shallow eyes, I could feel my body trembling at the thought that this monster is inside of me.
You could feel the evil seep through.
I wondered what created it and how could I undo this monster from being born.
But its like I was staring into a mirror.
Except every scar, bruise, pain and thorn was visibly present.
And in the abscenece of acceptance, this evil in front of me was born.
I could see the events that made him stronger flash before me.
Every time I felt alone.
Every moment I faced depression.
Every night where I am left alone wtih thoughts.
Every opportunity my heart was crushed before my very eyes.
Every brick that I covered myself with.
Every soul that abandoned me.
Every smile that was faked.
Every word that inspired deciet.
Every tear that drops
Every line I write.
Every poem I compose.
Every picture I capture.
Every breath I take.
I gave life to this monster.
I shuddered once again at the thought that this monster is inside me.
No, this monster is me.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Christmas Wishlist !
Okay, normally, I'm not the materialistic type. It's quite rare that I want a bunch of things all at once. But I thought I'd indulge my greedy nature and show my readers what kind of things I desire. But some of them aren't that materialistic. So...here we go !
HIMYM Seasons 1-5
No Country For Old Men DVD
Nikon SB-400 Speedlight Flash
More enthusiastic and not busy models
Borderlands (PS3)
A great part time job
Better photography skills
More photoshoots
Better sleeping habits
Better educational habits
Better writing skills
Commitment, dedication and motivation to my stories
A new video card so I can dual screen
XBOX 360 ELITE (With HALO 3)
;)
Inspiration
That wish that I wish for every 11:11 to come true.
And, that's it, I suppose.
kristine, dianne says (11:18 PM):
kinda miss your voice
just a tad bit
^ :P
HIMYM Seasons 1-5
No Country For Old Men DVD
Nikon SB-400 Speedlight Flash
More enthusiastic and not busy models
Borderlands (PS3)
A great part time job
Better photography skills
More photoshoots
Better sleeping habits
Better educational habits
Better writing skills
Commitment, dedication and motivation to my stories
A new video card so I can dual screen
XBOX 360 ELITE (With HALO 3)
;)
Inspiration
That wish that I wish for every 11:11 to come true.
And, that's it, I suppose.
kristine, dianne says (11:18 PM):
kinda miss your voice
just a tad bit
^ :P
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Oh.
Toothless
To dream that you are toothless, signifies your inability to reach your goals and advance toward your interests. Gloom and ill health will be part of your setbacks.
I dreamt that I was the one pulling my own teeth.
What's wrong with me.
To dream that you are toothless, signifies your inability to reach your goals and advance toward your interests. Gloom and ill health will be part of your setbacks.
I dreamt that I was the one pulling my own teeth.
What's wrong with me.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Canadian.
So, I just wanted to randomly write a short blog before I head to bed.
I was on the phone the other night and I recited five poems off the top of my head. Sad to say, all five were better than anything I've ever written. Or maybe it's because they were all improvised and made up on the spot. Hm, who knows.
I'm going to rewrite them or something...or start recording what my improvised poems.
Anyways, there's a snow storm happening at the moment. The wind is so strong that I can hear it inside the safety of my room.
Okay, on to dishes, then sleeeep.
I'll be back with some poetry.
I was on the phone the other night and I recited five poems off the top of my head. Sad to say, all five were better than anything I've ever written. Or maybe it's because they were all improvised and made up on the spot. Hm, who knows.
I'm going to rewrite them or something...or start recording what my improvised poems.
Anyways, there's a snow storm happening at the moment. The wind is so strong that I can hear it inside the safety of my room.
Okay, on to dishes, then sleeeep.
I'll be back with some poetry.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Interpretation.
Self expression's love.
Photography's life.
Writing's inspiration.
Honesty's lies.
Sloth's death.
Gluttony's fear.
Pride's self-esteem.
Lust's joy.
Greed's charity.
Wrath's kindness.
Envy's truth.
They say life is an adventure. But that's just one way to interpret it, is it not?
Photography's life.
Writing's inspiration.
Honesty's lies.
Sloth's death.
Gluttony's fear.
Pride's self-esteem.
Lust's joy.
Greed's charity.
Wrath's kindness.
Envy's truth.
They say life is an adventure. But that's just one way to interpret it, is it not?
Friday, December 4, 2009
Lost Inspiration
I was inspired to continue my previous stories. But youtube distracted me. Curse you Natalie/CommunityChannel. Curse you.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Writing Angrily.
I don't like you.
That's just stating it lightly.
You piss me off.
And if you're wondering why that might be.
Why don't you take a fucking minute.
Evaluate yourself before you reply.
Thinking you're so slick with your shit talk.
Please.
Keep your childish nonsense to your self.
I couldn't care less about what the fuck happened at some gay ass party you happened to creep into.
And I wasn't eavesdropping.
You're talking so fucking loud, it's hard to not hear you !
You're such a fucking drama queen.
And yes, I know you're a guy.
But you know, I hear shit too.
And from what I hear, you're a fucking queer.
Thinking you're the fucking best out of everyone out there.
Acting like you own the motherfucking place.
Criticizing everyone like you know how everything's suppose to be done.
I'm sick of you looking down on everyone.
Frankly, I'm pissed off about everything you are.
And at least, I won't go talking shit and saying your name out loud, making it everyone else's business.
You're nothing.
You're nothing but a gossiping, cocky son of a bitch who doesn't know when he's crossed the line.
If I had a temper, I would've punched the shit out of you by now.
But quite frankly, I don't give a shit about you.
And sure, go ahead, say that I do give a shit because I posted this post about you.
Well, I just want to straighten every fucking body.
Who thinks I give a shit about what you think about me.
I don't.
Go die.
[note; I was trying to write in another theme, instead of the morbid work of poetry that I am apparently known for. I must admit that I had a few people in mind when I started writing this, but I don't let others bother me, because they're not part of my life to begin wtih, so why care? Anyways, just trying something new for me.]
That's just stating it lightly.
You piss me off.
And if you're wondering why that might be.
Why don't you take a fucking minute.
Evaluate yourself before you reply.
Thinking you're so slick with your shit talk.
Please.
Keep your childish nonsense to your self.
I couldn't care less about what the fuck happened at some gay ass party you happened to creep into.
And I wasn't eavesdropping.
You're talking so fucking loud, it's hard to not hear you !
You're such a fucking drama queen.
And yes, I know you're a guy.
But you know, I hear shit too.
And from what I hear, you're a fucking queer.
Thinking you're the fucking best out of everyone out there.
Acting like you own the motherfucking place.
Criticizing everyone like you know how everything's suppose to be done.
I'm sick of you looking down on everyone.
Frankly, I'm pissed off about everything you are.
And at least, I won't go talking shit and saying your name out loud, making it everyone else's business.
You're nothing.
You're nothing but a gossiping, cocky son of a bitch who doesn't know when he's crossed the line.
If I had a temper, I would've punched the shit out of you by now.
But quite frankly, I don't give a shit about you.
And sure, go ahead, say that I do give a shit because I posted this post about you.
Well, I just want to straighten every fucking body.
Who thinks I give a shit about what you think about me.
I don't.
Go die.
[note; I was trying to write in another theme, instead of the morbid work of poetry that I am apparently known for. I must admit that I had a few people in mind when I started writing this, but I don't let others bother me, because they're not part of my life to begin wtih, so why care? Anyways, just trying something new for me.]
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Monster
I've been listening to Rafael Casal's The Monster LP, it's by far one of my favourite mixtapes ever because it's about this monster inside us all. And it's really the concept I've wrapped my mind around on, the whole "mankind was born evil, we're only good because we have rules for our society." Anyways, it gave me an idea. I'm going to take a snippet of the song which really spoke to me and use that as my vantage point.
Uhm, that's it for now I suppose.
Can't believe it's december already.
Oh well. Check frequently, though I'm not sure why you would.
I'll be back with some artsy stuff or somethign later.
Uhm, that's it for now I suppose.
Can't believe it's december already.
Oh well. Check frequently, though I'm not sure why you would.
I'll be back with some artsy stuff or somethign later.
Layout !
A new layout, pretty awesome, IMO.
Thanks Karl Nik ! ;)
Uhm, what else.
I guess that's it for now.
Oh, Rafael Casal's mixtape - The Monster - is a pretty sick mixtape.
Almost as dope as Lupe's Enemy of the State mixtape.
Gotta add those to my iPod before the end of tonight.
Hm, that's it for now.
I'm getting hungry, gotta go eat.
Keep checking frequently.
I have an english assignment to write a poem with the same totalitarianism theme as 1984.
It's a challenge, I must say.
And, watch out for Aaron's Life Story.
I'm almost done the rough draft of the story itself.
Hopefully, it'll be as awesome as people highly anticipate it as !
Stay safe.
Thanks Karl Nik ! ;)
Uhm, what else.
I guess that's it for now.
Oh, Rafael Casal's mixtape - The Monster - is a pretty sick mixtape.
Almost as dope as Lupe's Enemy of the State mixtape.
Gotta add those to my iPod before the end of tonight.
Hm, that's it for now.
I'm getting hungry, gotta go eat.
Keep checking frequently.
I have an english assignment to write a poem with the same totalitarianism theme as 1984.
It's a challenge, I must say.
And, watch out for Aaron's Life Story.
I'm almost done the rough draft of the story itself.
Hopefully, it'll be as awesome as people highly anticipate it as !
Stay safe.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
The Axiom.
You're special.
And that's only scratching the surface of what I think about you.
There are millions of words in the English dictionary.
And I still can't find the right set of words to explain what goes through my mind when my smile reflects yours.
A million synonyms and antonyms.
And I still can't find the ideal word to describe how beautiful your eyes are, when I find myself lost in them.
A million different combinations of sentences can be formed.
And yet, I still can't find that sentence that would plunge despair, doubt, cynicism, hate and envy out of your vocabulary.
A million thoughts formed in a single second.
But the one thought that I need to perfectly portray the loveliness that I see in you, always alludes me.
It escapes me.
Like the millions of phrases that I wish I could come up with to properly display the attraction that your mind has captured me with.
Billions and millions and thousands of expressions are out there,
Not one of them can depict, in HD quality imagery, the way my heart beats faster when it hears the beat of your heart.
I can't come across a single axiom, or the truth when I try to explain the effects inflicted towards me when I hear the sound your soothing, calming, gentle voice.
It's impossible to explain how my soul smiles when it senses that you are near by.
You're special, and it's difficult to explain what you mean to me.
But some things are better left unexplained.
And that's only scratching the surface of what I think about you.
There are millions of words in the English dictionary.
And I still can't find the right set of words to explain what goes through my mind when my smile reflects yours.
A million synonyms and antonyms.
And I still can't find the ideal word to describe how beautiful your eyes are, when I find myself lost in them.
A million different combinations of sentences can be formed.
And yet, I still can't find that sentence that would plunge despair, doubt, cynicism, hate and envy out of your vocabulary.
A million thoughts formed in a single second.
But the one thought that I need to perfectly portray the loveliness that I see in you, always alludes me.
It escapes me.
Like the millions of phrases that I wish I could come up with to properly display the attraction that your mind has captured me with.
Billions and millions and thousands of expressions are out there,
Not one of them can depict, in HD quality imagery, the way my heart beats faster when it hears the beat of your heart.
I can't come across a single axiom, or the truth when I try to explain the effects inflicted towards me when I hear the sound your soothing, calming, gentle voice.
It's impossible to explain how my soul smiles when it senses that you are near by.
You're special, and it's difficult to explain what you mean to me.
But some things are better left unexplained.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
I Don't Understand
NOTE: I wrote this about a month ago. I never got around to posting it here. Well, without further ado, enjoy!
I Don't Understand.
I don't understand.
I don't understand how people are always telling me that I'm nice, I'm a good guy, I've got an interesting personality, I've got a brilliant mind and I've got a great smile.
And sometimes, they say I'm hella cute.
And yet, with all those apparent qualities that people see in me,
Why do I end up with friends who become more than friends but in the end, they're nothing but a bunch of...
You might say I'm just bitter.
But because of them my entire life has scars and stitches and each one of them tell a story.
This one, on my right shoulder, was from the time I spent countless hours listening to her because I was a coward.
I took pride that she could cower and take cover on my shoulder and I didn't want to lose that bond with her.
She would always tell me, oh Angelo, why can't I find a guy like you, but you did find a guy like me
I wanted to tell her how I felt, but she just kept on telling me that she wished she could find a guy like me.
She eventually did find a guy like me...
This one, on my left cheek, is from this girl that seemed meek, but she would always flirt with me.
It meant the world to me, but it was worth more to me than it was to her.
Because the minute I felt like we were going steady, her boyfriend punched me across the face.
And when my face took impact with his fist, all I could think about was what did I do to deserve this.
So as I lied flat on my back, with her holding him back, I got up and swung my fist back.
I never spoke to her again.
This one on my right wrist was from the time I fell for lust.
She, grabbed me by the wrist, and we, found a place to ourselves, and I pulled her closer by the hips, and we... kissed.
But we met minutes ago.
I suggested we took things slow.
Start off with a hi, I'm Angelo.
And just, you know, go with the flow?
She got off me and left the room.
She hissed and said she just wanted a one night honeymoon.
Without the matrimony or love in full bloom.
I hope she caught AIDS.
There was the time where this girl left a scar on my back, right behind my spine.
I thought she was mine, and that the whole universe was finally aligned and that everything was finally fine.
But, she would always lie to me.
And I always believed her.
Because I cared for her.
I stood by her side, comforting her when she needs me, always by her side, I was there when she was sick, by her bedside.
She told me that I was the best boyfriend she ever had, and that she never wanted it to end.
But nine weeks in, I found out that she... she...she had... another boyfriend.
I felt betrayed, backstabbed, bamboozled, I was back to square one.
I hope he broke her heart.
I have a scar, in the middle, of my heart.
It hasn't healed yet.
Because she, made me, happy.
Happier than any form of drugs, alcohol or temporary high could bring.
She was my natural high.
Seeing her smile was the drug that I needed to get by, everyday.
We were both busy for one another, but the way we made time for each other was...amazing.
I would pick her up after her work just so I could spend half an hour on the bus with her.
I would wait for her to get off school just so I could walk her home.
We would take the long way getting home whenever we had the chance to go out.
She would leave me voicemail every morning just to remind me that she cares about me.
For Valentine's Day, I bought her a bouquet and went to her place.
Only to find out that she bought me a bouquet and went to my place.
She was really special to me.
So I gave her a gift that I never gave to anyone before.
I gave her something precious to me.
I gave her...
My heart.
Everything was going great, I knew we had something great, but she, broke up, with me.
I didn't know why, and I held in my tears, pride didn't let me cry.
But I was hurt, she broke my self-worth
I became cold, frigid, arctic weather towards any girl trying to get close to me.
But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't break past what I am.
I'll be forever known as
A nice guy, with a smile that seems to always be there.
I'll always be that guy
with the brilliant mind and a great personality... but maybe... maybe that's my liability.
I Don't Understand.
I don't understand.
I don't understand how people are always telling me that I'm nice, I'm a good guy, I've got an interesting personality, I've got a brilliant mind and I've got a great smile.
And sometimes, they say I'm hella cute.
And yet, with all those apparent qualities that people see in me,
Why do I end up with friends who become more than friends but in the end, they're nothing but a bunch of...
You might say I'm just bitter.
But because of them my entire life has scars and stitches and each one of them tell a story.
This one, on my right shoulder, was from the time I spent countless hours listening to her because I was a coward.
I took pride that she could cower and take cover on my shoulder and I didn't want to lose that bond with her.
She would always tell me, oh Angelo, why can't I find a guy like you, but you did find a guy like me
I wanted to tell her how I felt, but she just kept on telling me that she wished she could find a guy like me.
She eventually did find a guy like me...
This one, on my left cheek, is from this girl that seemed meek, but she would always flirt with me.
It meant the world to me, but it was worth more to me than it was to her.
Because the minute I felt like we were going steady, her boyfriend punched me across the face.
And when my face took impact with his fist, all I could think about was what did I do to deserve this.
So as I lied flat on my back, with her holding him back, I got up and swung my fist back.
I never spoke to her again.
This one on my right wrist was from the time I fell for lust.
She, grabbed me by the wrist, and we, found a place to ourselves, and I pulled her closer by the hips, and we... kissed.
But we met minutes ago.
I suggested we took things slow.
Start off with a hi, I'm Angelo.
And just, you know, go with the flow?
She got off me and left the room.
She hissed and said she just wanted a one night honeymoon.
Without the matrimony or love in full bloom.
I hope she caught AIDS.
There was the time where this girl left a scar on my back, right behind my spine.
I thought she was mine, and that the whole universe was finally aligned and that everything was finally fine.
But, she would always lie to me.
And I always believed her.
Because I cared for her.
I stood by her side, comforting her when she needs me, always by her side, I was there when she was sick, by her bedside.
She told me that I was the best boyfriend she ever had, and that she never wanted it to end.
But nine weeks in, I found out that she... she...she had... another boyfriend.
I felt betrayed, backstabbed, bamboozled, I was back to square one.
I hope he broke her heart.
I have a scar, in the middle, of my heart.
It hasn't healed yet.
Because she, made me, happy.
Happier than any form of drugs, alcohol or temporary high could bring.
She was my natural high.
Seeing her smile was the drug that I needed to get by, everyday.
We were both busy for one another, but the way we made time for each other was...amazing.
I would pick her up after her work just so I could spend half an hour on the bus with her.
I would wait for her to get off school just so I could walk her home.
We would take the long way getting home whenever we had the chance to go out.
She would leave me voicemail every morning just to remind me that she cares about me.
For Valentine's Day, I bought her a bouquet and went to her place.
Only to find out that she bought me a bouquet and went to my place.
She was really special to me.
So I gave her a gift that I never gave to anyone before.
I gave her something precious to me.
I gave her...
My heart.
Everything was going great, I knew we had something great, but she, broke up, with me.
I didn't know why, and I held in my tears, pride didn't let me cry.
But I was hurt, she broke my self-worth
I became cold, frigid, arctic weather towards any girl trying to get close to me.
But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't break past what I am.
I'll be forever known as
A nice guy, with a smile that seems to always be there.
I'll always be that guy
with the brilliant mind and a great personality... but maybe... maybe that's my liability.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Breaktime.
So, I have little faith in myself. I have twelve questions left about the rest of the 1984 novel where I'm only half way through Part One. Due in a matter of hours. Followed by a two short 250 word essays on feeling helpless, and the concept of memory and existence. Along with a poem with the same theme as 1984. These reflection papers are due this friday. Oh joy. Plus, I feel like my teacher's going to kill me tomorrow. Good thing I'm continuing my math where I left off and not from scratch. At least I'm okay with that. I think. NTS: Attend school more frequently. Four times a week, if not five. Fuck me and my school habits. Honestly.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
Daydreamin'
I was up, at three in the morning.
Just sitting on my bed.
With George Orwell's 1984 novel sitting on my lap.
But my eyes weren't anywhere near the font of the book.
Instead, they were staring straight at my beige wall.
My attention focused on a night light shooting star sticker the previous owners had left.
I was up, at three in the morning.
Daydreaming.
Running away from the novel that was assigned to me.
Instead of imagery of Winston Smith, the world he struggles with, and the always watching Big Brother,
My attention focused on a world where there is here and here is there.
I was up, daydreaming.
Inside my own world that I drew and painted.
Where characters from my own ideas evovle into real people that interact with me.
And struggle with me.
Even in my own world, I have problems.
For if it was not for conflicts, our lives would be too quick.
The beige wall helped paint the scene where my mind has taken me.
Clouds colour the sky grey as the sun seeks refuge behind them.
An urban city road filled with busy, shady people.
All keeping to themselves, I sit and observe from a distance.
Some interact with who I presume are their friends and I observe from a distance.
I wish to reach out and interact with the blank faces of those walking by me
But instead, I keep my hands to myself and observe... from a distance.
This distance is killing me, I thought, as I too, yearned for social interaction.
But the distance I've lived with has kept me distant from people.
Unable to connect, to feel, to love, to interact, I keep to myself... and observe... from a distance.
Until this female character sits besides me, and observes the world... with me.
At first, I was confused by this notion as she sat a little too close to me.
She sat down and mimicked my posture as she too hugged her knees.
When she had completely copied how I was sitting, she turned to me, and smiled.
I stared at her, in confusion and curiousity.
She turned back to the crowd and observed.
Even though she was watching from a distance, she didn't have the same cold feeling resonating from her.
I turned back to the crowds, debating why she pulsed a different aura even though we are in a similar situation.
And we watched, from a distance... in silence.
But I wasn't paying attention to the people that interacted with one another.
They became uninteresting once she sat beside me.
I looked into the crowd, but she was the focus of my attention, through the corner of my eye.
She turned her head, back at me, and smiled once again.
We talked, as the people went on about thier day.
I started to feel something strange, in my heart, but I could not describe it.
"It's called love," she said, and described the conditions of this new disease.
She laughed at my reaction, and I blankly stared at her.
Love, I thought to myself.
I turned to the crowd and the blank faces turned to smiles and upside down smiles.
I began to feel what these people are feeling.
And I understood why she didn't have the cold aura resonating from her.
It's because she loves.
And she brought love to my life.
I told her I wished to stay in her presence.
Because I was able to connect, to feel, to love, to interact.
And it was with her help that I was able to do such things.
She smiled, and I realized the stupidity of my request.
It's just a daydream.
I was up, at three in the morning.
Just emerging from the story my mind has brought to life.
With a fresh smile from the feeling that person had given me.
It may have been just a daydream.
But the aura that resonated from her is still with me.
It may have been just a daydream, but that encounter with her, meant the world to me.
Just sitting on my bed.
With George Orwell's 1984 novel sitting on my lap.
But my eyes weren't anywhere near the font of the book.
Instead, they were staring straight at my beige wall.
My attention focused on a night light shooting star sticker the previous owners had left.
I was up, at three in the morning.
Daydreaming.
Running away from the novel that was assigned to me.
Instead of imagery of Winston Smith, the world he struggles with, and the always watching Big Brother,
My attention focused on a world where there is here and here is there.
I was up, daydreaming.
Inside my own world that I drew and painted.
Where characters from my own ideas evovle into real people that interact with me.
And struggle with me.
Even in my own world, I have problems.
For if it was not for conflicts, our lives would be too quick.
The beige wall helped paint the scene where my mind has taken me.
Clouds colour the sky grey as the sun seeks refuge behind them.
An urban city road filled with busy, shady people.
All keeping to themselves, I sit and observe from a distance.
Some interact with who I presume are their friends and I observe from a distance.
I wish to reach out and interact with the blank faces of those walking by me
But instead, I keep my hands to myself and observe... from a distance.
This distance is killing me, I thought, as I too, yearned for social interaction.
But the distance I've lived with has kept me distant from people.
Unable to connect, to feel, to love, to interact, I keep to myself... and observe... from a distance.
Until this female character sits besides me, and observes the world... with me.
At first, I was confused by this notion as she sat a little too close to me.
She sat down and mimicked my posture as she too hugged her knees.
When she had completely copied how I was sitting, she turned to me, and smiled.
I stared at her, in confusion and curiousity.
She turned back to the crowd and observed.
Even though she was watching from a distance, she didn't have the same cold feeling resonating from her.
I turned back to the crowds, debating why she pulsed a different aura even though we are in a similar situation.
And we watched, from a distance... in silence.
But I wasn't paying attention to the people that interacted with one another.
They became uninteresting once she sat beside me.
I looked into the crowd, but she was the focus of my attention, through the corner of my eye.
She turned her head, back at me, and smiled once again.
We talked, as the people went on about thier day.
I started to feel something strange, in my heart, but I could not describe it.
"It's called love," she said, and described the conditions of this new disease.
She laughed at my reaction, and I blankly stared at her.
Love, I thought to myself.
I turned to the crowd and the blank faces turned to smiles and upside down smiles.
I began to feel what these people are feeling.
And I understood why she didn't have the cold aura resonating from her.
It's because she loves.
And she brought love to my life.
I told her I wished to stay in her presence.
Because I was able to connect, to feel, to love, to interact.
And it was with her help that I was able to do such things.
She smiled, and I realized the stupidity of my request.
It's just a daydream.
I was up, at three in the morning.
Just emerging from the story my mind has brought to life.
With a fresh smile from the feeling that person had given me.
It may have been just a daydream.
But the aura that resonated from her is still with me.
It may have been just a daydream, but that encounter with her, meant the world to me.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Vulnerable.
What makes you so different?
Cuz you see, I've placed walls that are stacked so high, no one was suppose to see the very top of it.
Not even if you stand right under it and not even if you stood three hundred kilometers away from it.
It's stacked so high that if I made these imaginary walls into something that reality can see...
It would climb higher than the skies could reach, higher than any satellite orbiting the sky, higher than logically possible.
That it would not only disrupt the orbit of Mars, but get past the asteroid belt, hit Jupiter, break off Saturn's rings, fix the spin of Uranus, and hit the blue mass that we call Neptune.
And it wouldn't stop there.
It'd leave our solar system and fuck up the near by system's rotating orbit.
It's built so high that it would reach the end of the universe.
And that's said with the theory that the universe has no end.
But not only did it hit the wall of the universe, but it broke through and who knows what the fuck is outside the universe.
And if it found itself an entrance to a black hole... it would've found the exit.
I know it's not logical, fuck you science. It's called a metaphor.
You could try and dig under, but these walls are dug in deep.
Dug in so deep that I don't even recall when they were being constructed.
Or how deep the hole was when construction was happening.
These walls are so thick that no atomic bomb could be strong enough to decimate it.
So thick that if you used a drill to try and get through to me, you'd have better luck trying to break out from Alcatraz by digging your way out...with a toothpick.
The distance between the outside wall and where I am is so wide that it would be faster if you circled the earth...as a paraplegic... without your wheelchair... terminally ill with lung cancer.
It's the ultimate defense.
So what makes you so different?
You're different because... in my mind, where these walls exist, where I'm in a room where no one has ever stepped foot before... not my family, not my exes, not any of my friends have seen the inside of this room...
But in my mind... you're there... with me.
Telling me that I'm okay, pulling me away from these shackles that we call insecurity.
And I'm amazed that she did not find a monster inside the room, but a friend.
A friend who has been inside that isolation unit for so long, with his insecurity his only company... He's clung onto her, he's become attached.
But that doesn't erase what his past has put him through.
He's scared, he's... anxious. He's unsure.
Making another mistake is something that will definitely close that gap that she managed to find. Because my walls are unbreachable.
Somehow, you've given me the atmosphere that I use to be all too familiar with.
I let my guard down.
You slipped right past that wall.
And if my past came back to haunt me with this new and yet too familiar situation...
I'd blame myself.
For letting my guard down.
I hope you understand the risk I'm taking here...for you.
So what makes you different?
What makes you so different from the others that I've let my guard down in front of?
What differentiates you from the ones that slipped past my defence and stabbed the monster inside?
What makes it different is that I wanted to let my guard down.
Because I'm sick of putting up these walls, just to avoid the hurt, the pain, the emotional tail that follows friendships.
Because, to be honest, I thought you were cute but I didn't let my walls see through just because of that.
Nor does it revolve around that reason.
Because something inside me told me to let you into who I really am.
Because something about you has brought back who I use to be, with a hint of how I am now.
Because for the first time in years, I've let someone know who I am, on the inside.
Something about you made me feel...safe.
I let my guard down, and I'm slowly coming out of my shell.
I feel vulnerable around you.
I feel attached.
I hate it.
But my hate for feeling vulnerable is nothing compared to the smile that I hide from you when I'm around you.
And I hope that feeling never becomes different.
Cuz you see, I've placed walls that are stacked so high, no one was suppose to see the very top of it.
Not even if you stand right under it and not even if you stood three hundred kilometers away from it.
It's stacked so high that if I made these imaginary walls into something that reality can see...
It would climb higher than the skies could reach, higher than any satellite orbiting the sky, higher than logically possible.
That it would not only disrupt the orbit of Mars, but get past the asteroid belt, hit Jupiter, break off Saturn's rings, fix the spin of Uranus, and hit the blue mass that we call Neptune.
And it wouldn't stop there.
It'd leave our solar system and fuck up the near by system's rotating orbit.
It's built so high that it would reach the end of the universe.
And that's said with the theory that the universe has no end.
But not only did it hit the wall of the universe, but it broke through and who knows what the fuck is outside the universe.
And if it found itself an entrance to a black hole... it would've found the exit.
I know it's not logical, fuck you science. It's called a metaphor.
You could try and dig under, but these walls are dug in deep.
Dug in so deep that I don't even recall when they were being constructed.
Or how deep the hole was when construction was happening.
These walls are so thick that no atomic bomb could be strong enough to decimate it.
So thick that if you used a drill to try and get through to me, you'd have better luck trying to break out from Alcatraz by digging your way out...with a toothpick.
The distance between the outside wall and where I am is so wide that it would be faster if you circled the earth...as a paraplegic... without your wheelchair... terminally ill with lung cancer.
It's the ultimate defense.
So what makes you so different?
You're different because... in my mind, where these walls exist, where I'm in a room where no one has ever stepped foot before... not my family, not my exes, not any of my friends have seen the inside of this room...
But in my mind... you're there... with me.
Telling me that I'm okay, pulling me away from these shackles that we call insecurity.
And I'm amazed that she did not find a monster inside the room, but a friend.
A friend who has been inside that isolation unit for so long, with his insecurity his only company... He's clung onto her, he's become attached.
But that doesn't erase what his past has put him through.
He's scared, he's... anxious. He's unsure.
Making another mistake is something that will definitely close that gap that she managed to find. Because my walls are unbreachable.
Somehow, you've given me the atmosphere that I use to be all too familiar with.
I let my guard down.
You slipped right past that wall.
And if my past came back to haunt me with this new and yet too familiar situation...
I'd blame myself.
For letting my guard down.
I hope you understand the risk I'm taking here...for you.
So what makes you different?
What makes you so different from the others that I've let my guard down in front of?
What differentiates you from the ones that slipped past my defence and stabbed the monster inside?
What makes it different is that I wanted to let my guard down.
Because I'm sick of putting up these walls, just to avoid the hurt, the pain, the emotional tail that follows friendships.
Because, to be honest, I thought you were cute but I didn't let my walls see through just because of that.
Nor does it revolve around that reason.
Because something inside me told me to let you into who I really am.
Because something about you has brought back who I use to be, with a hint of how I am now.
Because for the first time in years, I've let someone know who I am, on the inside.
Something about you made me feel...safe.
I let my guard down, and I'm slowly coming out of my shell.
I feel vulnerable around you.
I feel attached.
I hate it.
But my hate for feeling vulnerable is nothing compared to the smile that I hide from you when I'm around you.
And I hope that feeling never becomes different.
Focus&Fly.
I need to keep focused.
And get this project lifted off the ground.
But I need food.
I'm starving.
Parents, where are you ! :(
And get this project lifted off the ground.
But I need food.
I'm starving.
Parents, where are you ! :(
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