Phree Xpressions

Misery

2010-09-17T18:59:00.000-07:00

I seriously just don't who know you are anymore
or rather, I've had the blinders taken off me
so that I can see the real you beneath it all
it's taken me a little while to finally accept
and come to terms with this new reality
that the you i knew no longer exists
that in fact the you i knew was never true
because who you are is someone completely anew
you've never bothered to help me see
you've been content to take advantage of me
well. with a heavy heart and renewed conviction
I've finally cast off this blanket of delusion
finally released to see who you truly are
finally relieved to see that I've no more misery.

09.17.10 6.54-6.58pm

I've Been Here Before

2010-08-19T02:18:00.000-07:00

I’ve been down this road before.

Staring at the path ahead of me as the tearing sky continues to drench me in her raindrops, I robotically place one foot in front of the other, not really caring whether or not my feet move in sync. The doom and gloom of the screeching wind whisper to my ears, as my sense tune out all that is superfluous to the object in front of me. Even with the odd sense of déjà vu, I know I must needs to soldier on, discovering the root of reasons as to why I’ve got to do this all over again.

One would think that, because of the eerily familiar feeling, I would have no trouble navigating this seemingly foreign terrain. But for whatever reason, I just can’t place my finger on it, this is as if I’ve never been here; yet it’s almost as if I have. The shape of that bush, the texture of the ground, I definitely have seen this all before.

The walk seems like the walk of death; no matter how many steps I take, I seem to be no closer to reaching the destination that I aim to seek. The closer and closer I believe I am, the farther and farther it appears to be. Deciding that I don’t want to be walking forever, I break into a run, trying to brute force my way towards my direction. To no avail, the rate at which I drew closer to it matched the rate at which it sped away from me. Tired, exasperated, and upset, I doubled over and lay on the ground, pondering my ridiculous predicament.

Could it be? Could the solution to this madness be that simple? I got back up, ready to take another shot at this madness I seemed to be stuck in. Slowly, but surely and confidently, I started taking little steps back, breaking out of the monotonic pace I had set myself. At first, nothing was happening, which started to really perplex me. But then, things seemed to start clicking in place! The more and more I moved backwards, the closer and closer I seemed to be moving forward. What madness!

As I continued on this oxymoronic path of mine, I started to ponder, how in the world could moving backwards be interpreted as forward progress? Only in some weird twisted sick way would such a fallible idea even be remotely passable as reality. There is no way that such madness could be truth. There was simply no freaking way.

Upon this instance of my epiphany, my whole world shattered, I fell through the cracks, and the view faded to black.

…

I open my eyes. Look all around me. Take in my current environment. I don’t remember how I got here.

I’ve been down this road before.

08.19.10, 1.48-2.17am
=====
Upon quick inspection, I noticed I changed back and forth between tenses. But you know what, whatever.

expose

2010-08-19T01:02:00.000-07:00

you know, i'm sick and tired of this madness that i'm in
hating the fact that i just can't seem to get out of this spin
pushing and shoving to get out the damn door
all i can see is that which was before
i know i shouldn't be falling in to this same shit
but i can't help it if my mind won't run away from this lame bit

siigh.

what the affliction is, i really don't know
if i did, yathink i'd be spewing off these words at you
heck no, none of this here is for the sake of a show
its me tryna get these thoughts out like refuse
i know it aint healthy to store up thoughts like these
and thats why i'm trying so hard to give myself a reprieve

damn.

you won't believe how much madness and sadness i've had to encompass
i'm sure you wouldnt understand even if i tried and told you
i'm scared like no other. angry like no other.
i really just wish that i knew how to fake this
but i cant. i don't. i just won't be another fake fool
because i'm tryna fly solo, even it means going w/out the brothers

yaknow.

and so. like i said. here i sit. by myself. all over again
you don't even know the beginning of what going through my mind
if only you knew. if only you tried. you might have been able
to break open and pry. but you din't. you don't. and you just
never won't. because the path aint there and neither is the desire
to truly see what beneath this mind you'll finally uncover.

08.19.10, 12.50-1am

scared

2010-08-02T01:22:00.001-07:00

I'm scared I'm boring, because I'm so quiet
I'm scared I'm annoying, because I'm so bothersome
I'm scared you're done with this, because I never know wssup
I'm scared that you don't care, because you're never there
I'm scared that I'm just plan b, that I'm not a good enough plan a
I wish I knew how to figure it all out
I wish I knew only just how to get out.

07.31.10, 10.32-10.35am

Sorry.

2010-06-07T18:53:00.001-07:00

So I just gotta let you know
I'm sorry.
That you just can't seem to get it thru to your head
I'm not a fall back option
I'm the number one option.
I don't stand by and waiting patiently
for you to fall back my way
That's now how I play this game.
If you want me in your life
I'll be the one leading
you by the hand; destination: amazing.
Believe it or not, this is what you ain't got
Cuz I don't take lightly to being played with
You might think that's how things roll
but silly you; s'only because I've let you go.
For all this time, you've said you wanted to fly solo
Now here's your real chance to go so low.
So this is my spiel, I gotta say, I'm sorry
that it took me this long to finally stop dreaming.

06.07.10. 6.43-6.51pm

one.

2010-06-06T21:18:00.000-07:00

You best know that I'm just not gonna settle
for being simply another one
Cuz you gotta understand, when I come around
You'll recognize that I'm the ONLY one
I'm not taking a backseat to that guy over there
I'm not waiting 'round till you fall back to here
Next thing you know, the next time you fall
You just might end up crashing and burning
without this perennial safety net that you were expecting
So, so long. Farewell. Aufwiedersehen. Good bye.
What, you expected me to wait around 'til the day I died?

4th and Goal.

2010-06-02T00:35:00.000-07:00

It’s been one heckuva game. We started out pretty decently in the first quarter, holding them to a statistical tie. In the second quarter, we continued to hold our own pretty well, until the other team seemed to just continually get lucky.. In the blink of an eye, they had ran back a kickoff for a TD, pick-sixed us for another, returned a fumble recovery off our muffed punt for another TD, and intercepted it again and hail-mary-ed it into the endzone as time expired in the half for their fourth in what must’ve been a two minute span. That was one of the most humiliating ways to return to our locker rooms, thinking we would have gone in 0-0, but instead, we were facing a 28-0 hole to climb out of.

Most other teams would’ve quit then and there. It’s not because of the fact that we were down four TDs to none at the half; but because of the way they were able to go up 4 TDs on us. Seriously, how unlucky could a team get!? Our whole team was at fault for each of those TDs; special teams on the first TD, QB and the offense for the second, special teams again for the third, and both the offense AND defense for the fourth. Ouch.

But we din’t quit. We couldn’t. Not when this was the 7th game of the season, and the result of this game would set the stage for either a remarkable run to the finish over the next five games, or a disastrous freefall for the team, struggling to limp past the 12th game of the season. With our record sitting at a pretty 0.500, or 3-3, there was a whole lot left to fight for in the next 30 minutes of the game. And so we fought.

The third quarter was one of the most hard-fought 15 minutes of hell I’d ever seen in my career. Our guys went out there with a renewed sense of fire in their eyes, ignoring the scoreboard and playing as if it was 0-0 in the first half. Our defense swarmed to the ball, forcing a whole bunch of three-and-outs. Our O-line absolutely punished their D, opening gaping holes to allow our backs to easily pick up first downs, if not get close to the marker. In goal-line situations, our wideouts got just enough separation for the QB to dump it straight into their chests, helping us slowly push up the scoreboard.

At the end of that madness, we had been able put up 24 pts in that quarter; we scored 3 TDs and had to settle for a FG. And so, we entered the fourth down only four points, 24-28. There were 15 minutes left on the clock, 15 minutes left to determine which way the pendulum would swing for us for the rest of the season.

And like I mentioned, our guys played their hearts out in the third. You could tell they were a bit tired, with the extra heaving of their chests, seeing more guys place their arms on knees or behind their heads to catch an extra bit of breath, more Gatorade consumed than in the entire first half combined. But football is a 60 minute sport, and the winner of the game is the one with the most points at the end of those 60 minutes. We still had a job to do.

With both teams a little more fatigued than usual, the scoring opened up a bit. When they ran in a TD, we were able to pull one down in the end zone as well. Our D got a stop for us, their D made us settle for another FG. They were able to bully their way into the end zone for another score, and then they made us settle for yet another FG at the 40-yd line. With the score now sitting at 37-42, we were pulling closer, but not quite close enough.

With just under 3 minutes remaining in this high stakes game for us, we knew it was gonna be now or never. We just scored the FG, so the ball was now in their possession. All they had to do was probably get another first down, and the game would be over. So for us, here were four key possessions where our D had to absolutely manhandle them to force the turnover. And of course, they ran the ball on 1st down, for a pickup of 2. On 2nd down, they were able to pick up 8 before we knocked them down. Now there’s just 2 minutes left, and on the crucial 3rd and 2, this was the do or die moment. The ref set the ball down, their offense got into position, and their center hiked the ball. HOLY CRAP, it was a bad snap! The ball sailed over their QBs head and rolled back a good 10-15 yards. It was a mad rush for it, as both our D and their players jockeyed for the ball. It took the refs a good five minutes to unravel the madness to see who actually had the ball at the bottom of the pile. At the end of it all, the ref threw his hands towards our endzone, signaling that we had recovered the loose ball. Here’s our chance!

Here we were, with the ball at our opponent’s 35 yard line, with about 1.30 left on the clock. Going into our 2 minute offense, we were able to snag 27 yards in 4 quick plays, with each reception by our wideout followed by them smartly walking out of bounds to stop the clock. With about 50 seconds left, we were now knocking on their door, having a 1st and goal at their 8 yard line. We’ve got plenty of time left. Let’s go.

With their goal line stand, and our necessity for good game-clock management, we thought we’d try and run the ball to gain yardage and knock a good chunk of time off the clock. That tactic worked decently, netting us 2 additional yards while taking off about 25 seconds from the clock. The play was designed to get the tailback to swing out, pick up the yardage, and then fall out of bounds, stopping the clock for us. As we sauntered back to the line of scrimmage, thinking we had all the time in the world (or at least, all the time given to us by the playclock), one of our WRs noticed that the game clock had dwindled down to just 15 seconds. We frantically lined up, snapped it, and spiked the ball, seeing as how we had no time-outs left. What in the world just happened!?

Our coach ran over to the ref and started mouthing off, loudly wondering why the game clock din’t stop like it was s’posed to after our guy went out of bounds. The ref calmly replied that our back had actually been downed with one knee in play, meaning that time would in fact continue running. Frustrated at the ref’s decision, as well as the fact that he had no time-outs left, meaning that he could not challenge the ruling on the field, he yelled at us to get moving, seeing as how we only had about 10 seconds left on the playclock.

So now. We were faced with a 3rd and goal at their 8 yard line (the spike cost us the two yards we had picked up on 1st down, and spiking the ball also meant the forfeiture of a down), with only 10 seconds left in the game, with the score at 37-42, in our opponents favor. We figure we could still run a play to take a shot at the end zone, and if all else fails, we’d hopefully have a couple ticks left on the clock to take our last shot on 4th down. We thought we’d try to throw them off guard by stacking the box and lining up in the I-formation, showing a power running play. However, when the ball was snapped, we tried to execute a fade to the corner of the endzone, figuring out wideout could get enough separation in one-on-one coverage.

With the ball slowly sailing through the air, and the corner not quite realizing that the play was headed in his direction, our wideout fakes left, bolts right, and ends up juking the corner just enough to pull in the ball into his chest. “TOUCHDOWN!!” We all excitedly start screaming, believing that we had just won the game. However, as our guy starts to finish it up by putting his two feet inbounds, the corner’s long arms swat at the ball, just enough to make our guy lose possession and fumble the ball out of bounds. It’s ruled as an incomplete pass. Man.

Here we are. It’s 4th and goal, we’re still 8 yards from a TD, and there’s about 2 seconds on the clock left. There’s no giving up now. We were *that* close on the last play; we got to give it as much effort as we did, if not more, to finally wrap this game up. Our five O-linemen line up on the line, four wide-receivers on the outside, and the halfback behind the QB watching for any trickery the opposing D might try to pull. Our center crouches over, puts his hand on the ball, and looks back under his legs to the QB, awaiting his signal to snap the ball. The QB’s eyes scan the defense, trying to see if there are any glaring holes in their defensive scheme. Trying to milk the playclock for all its worth, to have as much time to study the opposing D, our QB lets the time dwindle to 5.. 4.. 3.. 2.. seconds. “Hike!” he yells.

And all pandemonium breaks loose.

06.01.10 11.38pm-12.34am
=====
I've been wanting to write this story since finals week last quarter. If you know me, you know my recent (as in, the past couple of years) newfound love for football. And as I was struggling through finals, the imagery of fighting through the downs, pushing through to the endzone, not giving up on the play until the clock reads 00:00.. that totally coincided w/ my thought process of not giving up on my finals until the last one was finished. (Lesson learned after the horrendous events of fall quarter '09) I feel like this is a decent writing.. Prolly a bit football-language heavy for those who don't follow it, and prolly not-technical enough for those who do. But. I think I'm happy.

head in the clouds

2010-06-01T23:36:00.001-07:00

i gotta take my head outta the clouds
gotta ground myself once again
to realize the importance of finishing
strong and not letting anything get in the way
i've got to dispel the foolish shroud around
to fight against what must be hell sent
so that i'm no longer merely wishing
that i'll be the victor at the end of this day

it's all about the reality in the situation
to focus on the here and now, not
what was, and what may eventually be
to fully grasp the enormity of the task at hand
is something the soul must attack w/ desperation
else everything that's been done will be for naught
and eventually, all you'll ever see
t'will only be a whisper of what was once so grand

06.01.10 11.30-11.34pm

i hatechu

2010-06-01T00:18:00.000-07:00

i hatechu

esp when i try and tell myself i'll be alright
but know that i cant get chu outta my mind
how your fingers grasp all of my thoughts
rendering me absolutely useless to do anything else

i hatechu

the way you make me want to cry
cuz i know the feelings inside me
are such that i shouldn't be having them
because there's just so many things wrong w/ it

i hatechu

how i just constantly desire to hear from you
but you're always busy, never free
i can't even meet up with you through your schedule
because you've made plans with everyone else already

i hatechu

since every moment we're not in communication
it makes me feel like im in some sort of deprivation
of missing out on something special
because i need to check my phone 24/7 for you

i hatechu

they say distance makes the heart grow fonder
but the truth is, distance makes the mind go crazy
it creates false exaggerations of one's traits
and the true flaws are merely shrouded into nonexistence

i hatechu

i know so much better than to give into all this
because history and experience have nothing positive to say
it's been a tumultous past; yet nothing ever changes
that should be lesson enough to put a stop to this madness

i hatechu

yet, even with all that's been said and done
i still dont' know how to conquer it all
to not let this eat away at my innards
truly incapacitating my ability to do.. anything

i hatechu

how have you put me under such an entrancing spell
how can i free myself from such devious magik
do i want to stay here in this ridiculousness
or do i want out, to escape from it all, to be free?

i hatechu

05.31.10 11.59pm-12.18am

What can I do

2010-05-05T00:37:00.000-07:00

what can i do
to make it known to you
that you're like a drug to me
i know it's best to just stay away
but i just can't, i'm so addicted

what can i do
to demonstrate to you
you're so important to me
that without you in my life
things just would never be the same

what can i do
to open up your eyes
to see that what you're doing just isn't okay
you need to back up your words
with the full undivided force of your actions

what can i do
to get you to see
me beyond just another ordinary person
that i exist in so much more
than what you can simply imagine

what can i do
to get beyond myself
to no longer be bound by these shackles
i need to break free, to soar once more
to long longer be held down by the shore

what can i do
to make you proud
and put a small little smile on your face
i've failed you so many times
and i know i'll only fail all the more

what can i do
to reap the promises you given
to come into the inheritance you've set aside
i'm desperately waiting and seeking
and hoping to find that treasure of mine

what can i do
to make it known to you
that i can be so much more than this
if only you'll trust me and give me a chance
you'll see things that you've never seen before.

05.05.10, 12.28-12.37am
=====
take what you will from this.
the idea that formed in my mind seemed way more epic than how i've presented it.
i guess my writing skills (if i ever possessed any) are slowly degenerating. Ehz.

fishinthesea.

2010-04-13T00:05:00.000-07:00

a fish in the sea, a fish in the sea
that's how they tell me it's always gonna be
the circle of life, ebb and flow of the tides
they couldn't be anymore concise

i pulled this one up, quite some time ago
i have to admit; it was one of my best throws
to land such a wonder that was you
in the middle of the wide large ocean blue

it was fresh at the time, made oh so easy
through our reciprocated fun; fosheezy
i thought this would never get old
i truly believed that i had struck gold

but as with all things, time moved us forward
eventually to the point, where things were untoward
a stank smell began to slowly emerge
i felt, it was telling me, i had to get it purged

but to wrestle with oneself over such an emotion
it ended up causing such a gigantic commotion
to toss and stuggle with this decision
could i submit myself to such deprivation

i couldn't give in, i wouldn't give in
i just could not place it in the garbage bin
so i tossed in some salt and threw it in the fridge
with hopes of potentially thrwating the damage

so now here i stand, at some point down the road
wondering whether or not, its grown some mold
is it too old; must it be tossed
this is the path at which i must now cross

a final decision to rid my moment's inhibition
to allow me to perhaps seek some new inspiration
i could just potentially just let it all be
because i've been told, there are plenty of fish left in the sea..

04.12.10, 11.50pm-12.05am
=====
it's a bit strange i know, but i like this one.

a lament

2010-04-01T23:42:00.000-07:00

you're just a shade of who you used to be
a wilted figure staring straight back at your past
of everything that you once were
and presently no longer are
as an all around body
taking the holistic approach
its painfully obvious from what you can see

through your academics the numbers tell it all
seeing the dichotomy from then and now
it just screams out loud how far you've fallen
that the old you would harbor complete
and utter disdain for the ways you adopted
from spurning all else that wasn't an A
to scratching and clawing for just even a B
my, what a disappointment you are to me

and the ridiculousness of this next matter
is another issue that's depresses me so
is to watch you balloon up to the fat you show
you had suuuuch a stellar senior year of performance
running just one race in track, and not even PRing
the degeneracy continued from there, you packing the pounds
that while your mind still thinks you're capable of such
your blubber weighs you down; it just can't keep up
stop this trend before its too late
don't seal yourself to such a fate

and last but not least, of greatest concern
is your lack of direction and passion to burn
to push you towards what you desire
and help you kindle the greatest of fires
i keep asking you, what do you want
you keep telling me, i don't know what i want
your indecision and constant questioning
is bound to lead your only to your reckoning
so get your head straight and figure it out
or pretty soon, you're gonna make me shout

to sum it all up, you're depressing me so
in nearly every category you can, you gone so low
the determination and urgency in which you must bring
so that you don't end up stuck in some sling
get yourself up and outta this ground
to allow yourself to finally be found
the only thing worse than a man with no trust
is a man who he himself can't even trust

04.01.10 11.20-11.41pm
=====
it just started with thoughts
but towards the end
things just started clicking and flowing
a bit more than the beginning.

Taking flight

2010-03-11T02:23:00.000-08:00

here i am, still once again
penning to paper, my thoughts again
these verses that spew forth from me
are a reflection for all to see
the madness and craziness inside my mind
a glimpse of the window into this turbine
a machinery of insanity within my soul
that derives its source from the depths of Sheol

this thing of mine eating away at me
it's something that won't leave so easily
this gnat that pesters me day and night
just won't leave me be without a proper fight
begging and learning different strategies
each all leading to new catastrophies
they all just serve as different signs
detailing the madness related in kind

turning on this path, continuing once more
it seems i'm just always stuck to the floor
i try to reach deep down within my core
to see where in the world i can work on this chore
of finding this thing that just cannot be found
this catalyst to help get me off the ground

i know that once i'm finally flying
there won't be a thing in sight to stop my riding
the skies the limit for my new intuition
haters cant stop my satisfaction
i won't let you take away all that i've worked for
you can't knock down this without any gore
its mine, my own, i've earned it myself
you just continue being your lil hating self

so watch out. when it comes, it'll be a-coming
don't be standing by when it comes a-knocking
i'll take off faster than a speeding bullet
that steel wall; i'll run right thought it
trust me when i say that i'll be gone
i won't stay up all night waiting till dawn
either you're with me now, until, forever
or you can stay there, do your thing, whatever

03.11.10 2.13-2.23am

heart's desire

2010-03-11T02:07:00.001-08:00

one's heart's desire, what is it you ask
is it something that you can easily task
a thing to seek and a thing to find
a thing that can so easily be defined?
not for me, i must so bluntly admit
i wish i knew, and i wish i might
have a clue as to where my heart's true
but i just don't know, where i'm to go
i wander and bump and grind through it all
wondering and asking whenver shall i fall
because i know with no sense of direction
i'm only bound for certain destruction

with so many things in my life abound
i'm seeking the answers to all things unfound
trusting and believing in the truth
of all things that may come unglued
this is in my hands, for me to discover
where exactly my treasure to uncover
is it somewhere or something nearby
or is it at a location so far, like Dubai

on a long journey, must i embark
in order to search out this lost ark
to find what's inside, my heart's content
to seek the answers to my winter's discontent
finding something that gives me that passion
to go on with life without these distractions
to give me focus to work on my muse
so as to not lose sight of my cruise

away i go, far away from here
until i've discovered that which is dear
to me and my life, something worth living
something i know that i just can't be missing
until i can grab hold of this question of mine
i just won't be able to truly shine
and take off in the direction that i'm gunning for
only then might i be able to finally reach shore.

03.11.10 2.00-2.06am

Songs of songs

2010-03-10T21:09:00.000-08:00

Sitting over here with the headphones to my ear
I'm listening to songs that to my heart endear
verses and choruses of how much i miss you
harmonies and melodies of how much i need you
they all tell me of how much i'm missing
and becuz of all this, how much i'm tripping
that i need get my life right back on track
that with you i need to stay on the same path
but these songs, all they keep feeding me
is empty promises of false hopes and dreams
i know i need you.. i think i need you?
does this square peg even fit in the round hole?
could it be you, that im missing so badly
or is it so true, that we've moved on, sadly
are all these games that we play with each other
meant for someone else, another other?
i can't keep track of this anymore
i don't know how much longer i can keep the score
i'm so ready to let you back into my life
but i just don't know if its you that's right
so all this wishing and dreaming and thinking i'm doing
what's it all for; to what end am i going
becuz if the only path that lies ahead for us
ends up being a road traveled with no trust
then its high time for me to do something and get out
so that i can start flying on; but you, you're out.

03.10.10 9.00-9.08pm

Humz.

2010-03-05T03:45:00.000-08:00

The swirling gusts of the wind engulf the man in its tight chilly embrace. His cloak provides him no comfort in the zenith of his location, an isolated clearing overlooking the ocean’s blue. The cracked earth beneath seems ready to give out at any moment’s notice, should a significant force come to disturb the fragile balance achieved. The seagulls scattered around call out to each other, creating a disturbingly peaceful cacophony of dissident noises. The sun, nearing the end of its descent for the day, casts its long parting light against the never-ending surface of the seemingly boundless blue horizon. Such a picturesque scene I have never been privy to. He closes his eyes to take in the scene before him.

Nestled within the man’s hand, tucked inside his trench coat, enveloped by the icy wind circling him, lies something barely visible to the naked human eye. His vice grip on the item threatens to rip through its being; yet it remains intact. In addition to the damage done by the man’s firm grasp, the crinkles on the photograph also portend the inevitable destruction of the antique. It is now that he slowly removes the tiny article from his innermost depths, an act done with ever-careful precision.

Pulling it out ever so gently, his act of uncrumpling the image reveals a few details about this parchment. The creases not only foreshadow the fragility of the piece, but they also tell the story of the photograph’s enduring the passage of time. That, because it is still fully whole as one item, regardless of how wreaked it is, it still remains, even through all that he’s gone through. Its prior location nearest his heart reveals how much he treasured and valued it. But now, taking a closer look at it, the man begins to behold new revelations.

Has he clung on to this for too long? Does this ancient item, worth its weight in age-old memories, still have value in what is, what may come to be? Or has the ship sailed, has the wind continued on with its sojourn, leaving him stationary and rooted to his spot, with just his past stuck to him? New things, new times, new memories; has he been completely left in the dust? Is there absolutely no chance that a miracle could restore the antiquated piece to its former glory? Yet, even if he could bring back what once was, would he want to? Does he care enough to try and make this happen, to see what has become of things? Or, even worse, is he just.. completely.. done?

If only he knew.

03.05.10, 3.25-3.45am
=====
It's been a while. I know. It's been hard to find the.. motivation to write. But tonight (or rather, this morning) hath presented itself to me. So here's the next, long awaited, delayed piece to come to fruition.

checkcheck.

2010-02-19T00:49:00.000-08:00

I don't even know what to say
I'm so freaking scared
of being the stupid fool yet again
of getting burned not once, not twice
but a freaking third time. I just, I..
I'd freaking die becuz I just couldn't
handle all the madness that would be
as a result of the ridiculous fallout.
This is why I'm trudging slow
looking, checking, analyzing every pace
making sure that I don't take a false step
I'm cautious, and I swear I have good reason to be
But. With the bad comes the good. I'm hopeful as well
Only time will tell what'll really happen. Right?

02.19.10, 12.34 - 12.48am
=====
I realized at the conclusion of this entry how horrible my writing is. Siigh. W/es.

note to self.

2010-02-03T03:21:00.000-08:00

it's 3.10am, and you're still awake?
what in the world could you be doing
up at this insane hour, for heaven's sake!?
you mentioned that you wanted to sleep
at a decent hour, to build up some discipline
yet here you are, not even close to a slumber so deep
wasting time here online, playing bejeweled
are you so satisfied with that high score now
although honestly, you still seem such a fool
such trivial pursuits, such fleeting goals
these aren't the things you wanted to do
you're not filling your cup, nor even that bowl
squandering away here in the darkest of nights
you should've been asleep almost three hours ago!
yet, you've succumbed to this without even a fight
not going to class, not hitting the gym
not eating breakfast, not sleeping on time
not doing anything at all; it's getting so grim
all things considered, you've dissappointed so much
up to this halfway point, you left much to desire
if only if only you had a better crutch
but now's not the time to dwell on ifs and buts
rather, its time to get to action to fight this inaction
and maybe, hopefully, some day, you'll make the cut
until then, you're useless, pathetic, hardly worth it
and this is all truth; trust, i'm not being sarcastic.

02.02.10, 3.10-3.20am
=====
it's just me yelling at myself. great eh?

ΑΔΣΩ

2010-01-26T00:52:00.000-08:00

I'll admit, I'm still quite confused
as to what exactly is unfolding here
time has gone by and things have changed
but it seems like it was just yesterday
when we first met and we had encountered alpha
that all went well and we just knew it.
but that was then, i guess this is now
things have changed, but how much so
is the oscillation still within range
of what is acceptable and favoring action?
dig into the details of the error for this delta
and see if the standard deviation is just way too off
proving that the sigma value must come into play
that the summation of the error propagation
decrees that resulting experiment just won't do
does that mean it's time to start completly anew?
i'm not quite sure; i've no idea at all
but i guess, if we're still on this journey
apparently unraveling things as they come
and neither one has broken off at the fork back there
then it must be true, it must be good
that it was too premature to call all things blue
meaning that we haven't quite reached our omega.

01.26.10, 12.46-12.57am
=====
Just rambling. Attempting to be poetic. Artistic. Ehz.

New Beginning

2010-01-25T00:05:00.001-08:00

Chaos. Madness. Destruction everywhere;
This is the life I live, of what I share.
People screaming, things still falling,
nothing in its entirety is still existing.
Standing still, in this presence,
I soak in the torrid scene and its essence
that the world is a mess that needs major fixing
but who can come to tackle something so daunting?

Cracks in the earth, attacks from the water
raids sent by heavens, nipping by the embers;
this is the scene that falls all around me.
Where do I start, when all around I see
piles of ash and mountains of ruin;
How do I even begin to start getting in?
I know something needs to be done;
times running out, I must beat the setting sun.

At bad as it seems, as dark as the ages
It's never too late to begin rewriting pages
Even amongst the number of bridges already burned
I'm confident that those times can still return
Perhaps not at the level at which things once were
but enough to repair the damage done by her.
That evil being will not continue to pillage me
and once I receive me victory, she will soon see.

So I move beyond my comfort zone, that which is safe
to embrace the cesspool that has been so strafed.
Taking just one step at a time, I am more than aware
of the extensive amount and time I'll need to care
but I'm more than certain, absolutely trusting
that in the end, all will work out, creating
a brand new beginning, something better than before
something amazing that will be in the annals of lore.

01.24.10, 11.43pm-12.05am

whatever

2010-01-13T00:21:00.000-08:00

You know what, do whatever the hell you want
I can't waste another minute of my time on you
Your constant nagging and itching over it all
Has pushed me to the edge of this circus of a ball
the ridiculous idea that I'd be completely submissive
going along to whatever which way as per your directive
that had absolutely no chance in hell of lasting the night
of even making it beyond our first fight
only a true idiot would stay there and stare
and pretend to himself that all would end fair
but i know the truth, only i know the right tale
that's all's well that ends well, but what about the fail?
what about the millions of others who don't get that chance
to reconcile that which has burdened them in the past
do they get a do-over, a re-take, an oop-sies
are they given the privilege of an "I'm sorry"
like heck they will, this isn't baby school
this is the realm of life, where only 50% comes out as true
and the other 200%, well, I'm sure that you know
that even the whitest of whites is more tainted than snow
so live and let live, at least that's what they all say
and maybe you'll be successful and happy, maybe, some day.

01.13.10, 12.15-12.20am
-----
it's angry. I know. But I'm not.
I want to see if I could draw up some emotions
even if I was lacking it at the moment.
Not sure where this went, or how it turned out
But.. it's out. Haha.

what?

2010-01-13T00:07:00.000-08:00

I’m drawing a blank as I sit here and stare
trying to force something out of thin air
I just know I need to get this outta my system
without doing so, I'll still be missing my freedom
But making a Something with absolutely Nothing
is scientifically against the idea of making
So as time drags on, I continue to lose
this face to face battle against the blank canvas' muse
The want and desire to present something of worth
to properly articulate this thought into birth
I just cannot do; I know, its unthinkably true
so all that's presented is this ramble so blue

The ideas were there, nearly burgeoning into existence
except they all rushed for the door, creating resistance
this reactive force, so great against them it pushed
that they were all completely overwhelmed in a whoosh
No chance to succeed, they all gave each other
dooming the next into thoughts a-smothered
which brings me back to the thesis of this representation
showing that, sometimes, too much can create miscommunication
With signals jumbled and nothing coming through
What else really did you expect me to do?

01.12.10, 11.51pm-12.06am
-----
Wanted to write
Din't know what to write.

I think that much was literally obvious.

Adieu and Hello.

2009-12-31T23:59:00.000-08:00

To whom it may concern:

I feel compelled to write you with regard to the unfortunate tumultuous events that have unfolded in such drastic manner over the past 365 days. The overwhelming number of poorly received circumstances has forced my hand into this seemingly necessary action. I hope that your bucket of experiences has been better maintained than mine, and that you have had a better ride over roughly the same course of hurdles.

Many of the notable items have been the source of external factors in which I have had no power to alter. With respect to these, it had been my goal to do my best to maneuver with and around the unforeseen revelations, essentially “going with the flow,” as it were. How well I have been able to execute in this department, I myself cannot properly gauge. But what is certain is that I have tumbled though the roughest of storms to emerge here at the latter end of this sojourn, enriched and enlightened enough to tackle whatever obstacles may come my way in the near certain future.

On the contrary, I have also had more than my fair share of failures which were a direct result of my conscious decisions. I do not beg forgiveness for my faults, but only that you would not hold it against me, trusting that I, as every other human being, have grown and learned from my haphazard mistakes enough to warrant another chance. No, not another chance to screw up whatever endeavor the proposition may be, but another chance to not only redeem myself in your eyes, but to even go above and beyond the call of duty. I trust you will be surprised, amazed, and even appreciative of the new efforts given, all as a reward of the continuing trust you put into the ever fallible person.

As it stands, this is the end of another arbitrary period of time as marked by mortal souls. One never really can take too much out of such whimsical dates as a “New Year.” But for our sakes, or moreso, our mentality, we choose to use this “December 31st” as something of value, importance, and meaning. Personally, it matters not so much to me, but I will indulge this silly idea and also choose to acknowledge the end of something and the beginning of another. Of what this so-called “thing” may be, I honestly do not have too much insight on. But numbers change, people change, everything changes. The only thing that ever holds constant is the variable we call change, and so I, along with the rest of humanity, must endure it.

“The old has gone, the new has come.” Here’s to a better 2010, in all aspects of my life, and yours. We bid 2009 adieu, not choosing to remain in the past, but at the same time, respecting the story history desires to chastise us with.

Yours truly.

12.31.09, 6.24-6.49pm
=====
Why an entry in letter format? I don't know.
Why an entry in such a formal tone? No clue.
Why an entry that failed to weave more literal techniques in? Beats me.
It just seemed like a fun idea to do.
And this entry is also done and completed, but "scheduled" to be posted at the last minute of 2009. Haha.

Wait and See.

2009-12-31T20:42:00.000-08:00

I dream a dream upon which I stand all alone in the midst of darkness. In the enveloping care of the void, I see no one and no thing near or around me. Unsure of my footing, unsure of what lies ahead of me, I slowly take minute steps, inching my way into the unknown. Almost tentatively and timidly, I resolve to test out the surroundings and get a feel for where I’m at. As I forge my path incrementally against the darkness, light beings to creep towards where I am. It’s not an overwhelming flood of light, but rather a modicum of light, as if a wicked witch with her long bony fingers were stretching out to grab hold of someone. As I near the eerie light source, I see that it is in fact a conglomerate of different by equal lights, each escaping out the open doors from whence they came.

Still feeling uncomfortable, but a little more secure with the flooding light from all directions, I increase my stride to see what in the world this madness is all about. Passing each open door, I see glimpses of different things, each amazingly different than the next. To my left is a kid who became a dodgeball champion on the playground. On my right, the scene behind the door is of another child who was a complete genius in the academic department, never failing a single item in his schoolwork. Moving forward, there exists another scene in which pre-adolescent youngster is sweating with fright as he asks a girl out. Conversely, another door shows a teenager who has given up on the hopes of education, but has rather chosen to indulge in drugs and alcohol to pass the time.

Yet, as I pass every showing behind these doors, they automatically slam shut, the crack of the door seemingly to emphasize the new restricted details of what lay behind those once open doors. Simultaneously, several doors ahead of me also have slammed shut, their light going out in a quick whisper as their passage has suddenly become inhibited. Trekking forward, the interspersed number of open and closed doors limit the number of views I can take in. But before I’m able to take a closer look, I’m knocked to the floor from behind. The guilty party, a man dressed nicely in a suit with a well-polished suitcase, continues running ahead, yelling “Sorry” as he barely even registers my existence. He grabs onto the frame of one of the doors and, using his momentum, swings himself into his destination. I pick myself up and rush ahead, wanting to see what his rush was all about. Arriving in the nick of time, I can just make out his exasperated breath, as he utters his apology for being late. Then this door slams shut in my face too.

A strange whirlwind of events, I think to myself. I check back to see if any other strange beings should rush me unawares. Seeing nothing, I shrug it off and continue on this path, unsure of where I’m really headed. Passing another open door, I’m again knocked to the ground, this time not by some one but by some thing. An explosion of sorts, I muse. A strange figure with thick goggles and burned frizzly hair comes out. “Sorry my dear boy. You know these crazy chemicals, always temperamental; you never know what’ll happen next,” he says, as he returns to his place and closes the door behind him. Completely perplexed by the randomness of the two adjacent scenes, I dust myself off, warily placing one foot in front of another as I still go on ahead.

Looking into the next open door, I see a scene unfolding between two men sitting with a nice ornate desk separating them. “I’m terribly sorry,” says the man with the exquisitely stitched suit. “You’ve been a great asset to this company, but we just can’t pay a high school graduate more than what the guy with the Masters Degree is making. I’m sure you understand.” The other figure opposite him, dressed definitely less neatly than the first speaker, mumbled his dejected reply, as his entire body language obviously gave away. And again, the door closes in my face.

Starting to make some sense of the strangeness of my predicament, I proceed to see what else awaits behind the open doors that lay ahead of me. I stop at a point, as I notice that the scenes to the left and right of me are completely identical. There’s a group of people gathered behind each door, both groups consisting of the same people. Both parties seem to having a great time chilling and hanging out, enjoying life. To my left though, one guy walks over to one of the girls and starts striking up a single conversation with her, outside of the group dynamics. To my right, there’s that same girl sitting there, but the guy in the other scene is just interacting with the group as a whole, not completely focused on her. Wait. He’s starting to leave his seat and move over next to her. But, hold up. Another guy beats him to it and engages the girl in conversation first. Trying to get a better look at the details of each figure shown, I squint to see if I notice anything specific. But why these two separate by similar scenes?

Next thing I know, I’m jolted awake by a rather cacophonous noise. It’s the damned alarm again, signaling the start of another wonderful glorious day. This rude awakening scatters all of my organized thoughts collected through this past little journey. We’ll see what the day brings in order to help me make some sense out of it all.

12.31.09, 7.44-8.42pm
=====
Prolly not as well written as I desired. Ehz.

Direction.

2009-12-16T01:21:00.001-08:00

it's a bit disconcerting
how at this stage of my life
in the waning years of my teenage days
i feel as if i still haven't a clue
as to what i'm to do
with my entire future.

in so many directions
open roads lay bare
paths ajar for me to descend
yet i stand and stare
not really knowing which way to turn
towards what my hearts desire really aches for
i'm completely apathetic

i want to go somewhere, anywhere, away
to make something of myself
to claim it for me and my aspirations
to be firm and set in knowing that
that is what i want and need and seek
that nothing else will cause me to waver
from the one true path that
truly belongs to me

up early at night, as it's yet to grow
still i wonder and ponder and think
to which aim do i truly want to go after
do i really want to fight for this
for that, for anything of real worth
where is that subject, that item
that crowning achievement that will
give me a direction in life
the flame burns weakly

a blazing inferno, something to drive me
to depths never seen before
to get the adrenaline pumping and see
a new me that has never debuted before
the drive and ambition to get me whats mine
when i hopefully maybe finally can see
that object of worth to consume all my time

12.16.09, 1.13-1.20am

I drudge.

2009-10-28T00:23:00.000-07:00

I’m stuck in a rut, unsure of where I’m going
Pushing ahead, following the only road that’s showing
Not really trusting in the path ahead of me
But not having a choice in the matters that be
I drudge through it all, focused on my nothing
Hoping that it eventually leads to something
You may not know, nor can you tell
What an abysmal state this is, my hell
But alone to myself, belonging only to me
I absorb myself in this wretched misery
My options now spent, with my choices depleted
I search only to continue that which was repeated
A comforting soul, an endearing friend
Such simple things to ward off an inevitable end.

10.28.09, 12.18-12.22am

Carried Away.

2009-10-27T23:32:00.000-07:00

The winds, they stir and roar and buffet all that dare stand in their way.
Myself, foolish enough to do so, chose to try test the furies, in all my naivety.
Picked up and tossed around, I no longer recognize the when or where I’m at.
Stuck in the middle of nowhere with no one around me, I’ve given into my solitude.
Unawares of how I got here or even what I’m supposed to do no.
As I look to my left, I see nobody around me, not even a single soul.
To the right, the expansiveness of nothing continues to carry out its dominance.
Alone to myself, absorbed with my thoughts, I choose to be.
Here I am. Isolated in my wretched existence. Completely destroyed by the elements.
What other path have I but to cry out for something bigger than I am to save me.
I have no power, no enchantments to make right all that has been wronged in my life.
All that I have, all that I am, is a puny lil ant in the domain of the living
And my insignificance has claimed whatever free-spirited thinking that may have existed at all.
I need somebody. Anybody. Around me. Now. For I can’t do this alone.
My delusional cries for help pierce the ever silent air.
And those around merely feel the wind flicking at them.
They continue on with their lives.

10.27.09, 11.21-11.31pm

pushove

2009-10-26T00:56:00.001-07:00

Quick note:
push + shove = pushove. If you already figured that one out, props to you.

Let's move on.

Forgive me, as it has been a while since my last post. But since most of these entries are of inconsequential affects, I s'pose you'll bear with. And I also feel that my continuation of these prose efforts are detrimental to my academic writing habits. Alas, I digress and shall continue.

-----

I’m trying. Really. I’m trying so hard that it hurts. Unfortunately, I’m not even sure as to what I’m trying to achieve within this present moment. Sometimes, I strive to pull the two opposing forces together, unwilling to let them drift too far apart. Other times, I’ve complacently turned an eye away, completely unaware of the once perpetual feeling that used to be by my side. But still. I’m trying. To pull it together. To rip it apart. I don’t know what I want to do anymore.

That doesn’t mean I’ve given up on my seemingly fruitless efforts. I feel that I cannot sink below the level of not trying. But then I ask myself, why try for something you’re not even sure or certain about? Isn’t that all just a waste of time and energy on something that will never see fruition? If that fissure between the two is such that it is impossible to bridge, must I keep fighting on?

So my struggle continues. Is it there? Does it still remain, dormant underneath the imposing shadow of the abyss? Or has it sunk so far into the unknown that it is absolutely lost, never to be found again? Do I chase after a whimsical desire, one that is ridiculously impossible to attain? Is there some spell on me that prevents me from seeing reason but instead forces me to keep going and going and going?

Tell me. Where do you stand? Where do I stand? Where do we stand? Must I make the whole perilous journey over to you just to prove my unabated struggle in this never-ending saga? Will you be able to at least make a sincere overture across the schism, or is that too beyond you? And even if you meet me halfway, would I be willing to do the same?

I try. And will continue to try, with all that I am. I will not give up or throw in the towel on this matter. Cuz this is that important to me. I’m not one to easily quit and abandon that which I have personally cultivated. But should I be maximizing my efforts in fixing the unfixable or separating the inseparable?

You help me be the judge of that. The road continues ahead regardless of my/your/our decision at this point. I just want to know if you’ll be with me at that point down the road.

10.26.09, 12.37 – 12.55am

Little Pieces of Home

2009-10-03T02:47:00.000-07:00

The air is stale and cold. The night encompasses everything in its cloak of cover. The only audible noises to be heard are the soft distant whooshes that accompany the far away waves as they crash upon the shoreline. The cascading walls of water fall at interspersed intervals of no definite pattern, randomly intruding upon the silence of the black night with their faint whispers. The muted wind silently howls against the bulwarks of the majestic waters that come from destinations remote and unknown. Amidst this angry tranquil night, the lazy stars offer glimpses of their splendor by deigning to shine some of their brilliant light upon the ocean’s backyard, where the angry sea has battered the sloth-like rocks into utter submission, now infinitely present as the unimaginable number of sand particles that stretch infinitely far.

And I, against these massive forces of nature, nestle my way into a tiny portion of the unadulterated beach. Firmly ensconcing myself into the soft fine grains of sand, I carve out a piece of rest in the wrestling madness that surrounds me. Sitting calmly and contently, my eyes adjust to the great absence of light as swallowed by the hungry mistress of the night. Thanks mainly in part to the generous scrooges of the firmaments and their secluded dazzling brilliance, I can just barely make out the outlines of the incoming waves, seeing them in a ready formation, the next and subsequent groups ready to take over where the previous one was interrupted in its mundane task. This is my sanctuary.

But not for long. Even more deafening than that silence of the quiet sly night barrels the loud engines of a giant 747 against the backdrop of the night. Its illuminating light inundates me in an overwhelming shower of blinding radiance that forces me to hiss at the unwelcomed intrusion. It screeches against the wind, daring nature to try and best it in competition. As it soars into the enveloping night, this apparition of a behemoth slowly loosens its grip on me, meticulously withdrawing both its light and roar from my presence, recalling it back to whence it came. And so, what’s mine becomes mine once again.

Yet, that thought process holds not entirely true. With meek eyes, I tilt my head up and scour the unforgiving abyss that is the night sky for any glimpse of the tailwind of the monster that so blatantly rattled my peace and quiet. In time enough, my eyes become bolder, more accustomed to the harsh reality of the world above, slowly able to discern between the selfish heavenly bodies and the disappearing flying creations. I start to see that the event that just unfurled itself was not one of a kind, but rather one is a series of many others. These faint twinkling lights can be seen off to the left, right, and straight ahead. I count not one, two, three, but mayhaps six or seven pairs of fading glimmers. The corresponding directional engagements of said shimmers are to the South, West, or North, with all intermediate degrees covered within.

Each drifting object in the night sky harbors in its precious cargo a little piece of home. A little thing I know that will travel far and away and bring new life to places unknown. With them, my eyes seek to clasp on, to go with them to their destinations and embrace a place so far away. Even as it seems that I’m being torn in six or seven different pieces, I know that only then will I be able to find my rest. It’s the only thing I know, if only you would leave me alone.

10.03.09. 2.16 – 2.47am

act.i.on

2009-10-03T02:13:00.000-07:00

In the shadows, I quietly bide my time
Waiting for that perfect moment to
Step out and formally introduce myself
To you. The situational conditions must
Be absolutely immaculate for my next
Foray into this great unknown.
I’ve done the necessary research
As to how I’ll tackle this new endeavor
Of mine. By ensuring that I’ve covered
All possible grounds of execution, I’ve
Secured the required routes for a
Successful completion of said item.
After all this time, I’ve decided that
This will have to be done in parts,
Slowly and surely edging away at
The monumental task that lays before
Me. One by one, this never ending war
Of attrition will be won by me; you’ll see.
Now as I begin to make my move, I dearly hope
That you’re ready for all of me.

10.03.09. 2.05 – 2.11am

Rush.

2009-09-18T23:46:00.000-07:00

standing. sweating. breathing. staring at the mirror. i wipe my forehead with a towel. a second later, beads of sweat start to form again, inundating me with a slippery wet surface area that glistens in the light. the quiet bubbles slowly ooze through the pores of my epidermis, each little droplet of water squeezing its way into the daylight, only to coalesce and fall prey to the weight of gravity. my chest still heaves up and down with every intake and outtake of air, bringing much needed oxygen to my tired muscles. completely drenched, i once again wipe everything away, only for it to once again defeat me and overwhelm my body with another coating of perspiration. i relish this strange sickly cycle, one who’s action proves that the body has been worked and overworked, that the internal temperature has risen so high through the process of mechanical repetition of body parts that it must spit out and continue churning out as much water to cool the core. this is what i live for. this feeling of exhaustion where the body has reached its limit, and then it gets pushed beyond it even further, reaching a state where so few have gone before. my victory. my accomplishment. my deliverance.

11.03pm

the light turns green, and i slowly crawl out from my stationary position. i follow the huge large truck in front of me, wincing as the huge behemoth creaks and groans as it uses all its available power trying to accelerate onto the freeway. it’ll get there, eventually, i thinkk. hope. i don’t have the time or patience for this. my left hand quickly jumps into action, advancing into the moment before the brain can even gather its collected logical thought process. already directing the car into the next lane, before it even lines up parallel to us, the left hand pulls downward on the steering wheel and, simultaneously in one swift graceful motion, hits the left turn blinker on as well. by now, the brain has caught up and sends signals down to the foot to catch up with the program. the car lurches forward, struggling to not be left behind in the flurry of movements. the tachometer is evidence of the enormous power that must be put into work to complete the task, as the car revs up to 6000rpm, just a tad under the redline mark of 6500rpm. now it’s the eyes turn to lead, and seeing an open space in the next lane over, it proceeds to send the same signals to the brain, telling the muscles to repeat the same maddening procedure to reach the end goal. before i can consciously catch up with all the chaos unfolding in front of my eyes, with nearly no recognition from my present self, my vehicle races off into the distance at a mere 80mph, two lanes over from where i entered the freeway. time elapsed: only a few measly seconds, time enough to allow me to be where i am now, but yet, conversely, time enough to leave me shattered into pieces, strewn about the cement in a disemboweled configuration of gore. my adrenaline rush. my release. my satisfaction.

11.18pm

a game of seconds and inches. a precision game. yes, strength and muscle also do factor in, but boil it down the basics, you’re left with those two metrics and nothing else. so in our little pick up game, i bring myself to the line, awaiting the opposing qb to rattle off his nonsense and get his team ready to go. as they’re done, they too come up to the trenches, and we embrace the oh so fabled calm-before-the-storm. with the slightest movement of the brown-colored pigskin, and as cliché as it may be, all hell really does break loose. the opposing wideouts rush off to run their respective routes, and our cornerbacks and safeties rush to make sure every one and every inch of the field is covered. but as for myself, i ignore the peripheral action that unfolds around and behind me, watching only the qb drop back with his 5-step motion, chasing his every eye movement, as miniscule as it may be. i shout out the rush count: one-mississippi, two-mississippi, three-mississippi, four-mississippi, five-mississippi. as soon as that last syllable flies off my tongue, so too do i race out of the trench zone and make a bee-line for the qb. the opposing team has one person covering the rush (that’d be me), and this guy, make no mistake is one gigantic wall of a person. but as the saying goes, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. as such, with my eyes still fixed on the qb, i take two quick steps to the right, and like a game of chess, so too does the giant blunder over to try and disengage my attack. the qb, trying to stay one step ahead of me, also moves in reaction to what he anticipates my attack will be; he shifts a little over to the left. but then my quicker and lighter footsteps give me the advantage in slipping by the boulder, easing over to his left, just fingers beyond his reach. as a result of the aforementioned chess match that’s been in play, there exists nothing but open space between me and their qb. but because his eyes were still busy scanning down field for a second too long, gifting me with that extra infinitesimal ounce of time, i am that much closer to sacking him. and by the time he recognizes his one defense against me has fallen, i’ve raced over and already downed him, thereby ending the play. seconds. inches. precision. you win those three theatres of war, and the rest is over. checkmate.

09.18.09, 10.45-11.44pm
-----
three anecdotes. one story.

Path Of Sojourn.

2009-09-10T00:06:00.000-07:00

This is nothing new. I’ve been down this road before. I can see clearly where my last footsteps once were, where the imprint from the soles of my shoes forever scarred the surface of the planet. Where brushes and trees and shrubs have been pushed and shoved and molded into a new shape to allow for my safe and comfortable passage. I’ve taken ownership over this road, having slipped away quietly to embark on my own adventure, answering to no one for my whereabouts, and deciding to keep this little exploit all to myself. Such reasons and motives behind my actions I have none to give. But the complications that may come to fruition as a result of my decisions I accept fully the consequences, should they find fault in my favor.

I’ve stepped off the tried and true. I’ve run away from that which was paved, that which has been trampled over and over countless times beforehand. I desire not to walk aimlessly in the mundane and pedestrian ways of millions who have come before me. Beauty, as is said, is held in the eye of the beholder, not in the eye of the shaper. It gives me no joy, no feeling of euphoria to foolishly accept the established ways merely because they may count age as the sole basis of their wisdom. In that sense, I ask myself, am I being foolishly wise about my direction, owing to the fact that I blindly jump into a tangent that which has never been charted before? Or am I wisely foolish, bold enough to jump off the bandwagon of mindless thought, only to get caught in a thorn bush that so conveniently placed itself right upon my point of departure?

It would be prudent of me to beseech a friend, an advisor, a counselor to aid with some guidance in the direction that I am headed. It would have been a blessed gift of foresight had I decided to make preparations before journeying off into the unknown that I have traversed before, only to come full circle back to the beginning, where I stand today, asking myself to check if I have complete confidence in the decisions I’ve made. If I had only enlisted a fellow friend to double check and give wise counsel to me before I brashly ran off in search of my own adventure, trusting not in the established routes but openly running after gut instinct and a wanting heart. There is no going back now.

As I continue with each step, getting further and further away from the roots of civilization, where time has proven again and again the truths and falsities of a bored containment, I look around me, wondering what exactly has changed since my last sojourn upon this part of the woods. I question the progress I have made since my last approach in this area that which is privy only to me. When exactly was the last time I went on this path? If I had been here before, why do I not recall anything from that last expedition, of which I could most likely use the knowledge to aid in my efforts to conquer and tame this unknown beast. At the end of the day, what have I gained from taking this step, and every subsequent one that followed after it?

What naturally follows that is then, where can I acquire the insight to answer said question?
-----
09.09.09, 11.50pm-12.05am

Jump then Learn

2009-08-25T02:32:00.000-07:00

This thing won’t be a walk in the park
Especially with my knowledge of things still in the dark
Guidance and direction, you’ll provide me with, you say
But with those reassurances now, I’m still kept at bay
To spread my wings and take off in flight
My human mind wants to know what’s right
Unfortunately, that’s not how things work
I’ll see the light only when I’m about to go berserk
You say “Jump now, and you’ll learn later”
To handle things as your veins begin to rupture
It’s no easy task to walk in a bind
And no less, to continually be open with my mind
But with this line of work, that’s the price and the calling
To achieve success and be assured of not falling
I’ve got to swing before I see the ball
Or else I’ll hit nothing at all.

08.25.09, 2.25-2.31am

BeWitMe

2009-08-25T02:23:00.000-07:00

If I isolated myself in that corner
The one furthest away from them all
Where no light ever shows its face
With absolutely no life in its presence
As I bask in the complete solitude it offers
Would you make the journey over to me?

If I ran to the highest of mountains
The one that towered over all other peaks
Where snowfall makes its first landing
With as little breathable air available
As I wallow in the loneliness of quietness
Would you climb up to me?

If I mired myself on a standalone island
The one that is still undiscovered to this day
Where mankind has yet to poison its pristine nature
With thousands of miles between me and civilization
As I’m mired in my own futility
Would you cross the seas for me?

If I flew up on a hot air balloon
The only colored item in the bright blue sky
Where my companions are just the white fluffy clouds
With not a human soul in sight
As I trembled against the wind’s fierce howl
Would you bother chasing after me?

If tears poured down my face, as I sat by myself
The droplets of water coalescing into a pool of pain
Where the only other reality is the wet thing beneath me
With my melancholy destitution holding me down
As I contemplated my arrival in this wretched state
Would you wipe away these fast falling tears?

Is it right of me to be asking this of you
To be seeking, searching for the one who’ll stay true
Because I need you beside me, here tonight
For there’s no telling how darkness may destroy this fight.

-08.25.09, 1.52-2.21am

Ride of a Lifetime.

2009-07-17T01:44:00.000-07:00

I love roller coasters. I really do. Anyone around me who’s ever asked or wondered where I would love to spend a day would know so. Without a doubt, I would love to thrust myself into the little plot of land filled with large and small and looping and whirling and rising and diving roller coasters. And to think, not too long ago, I had an insanely irrational fear of the mechanical begins, stemming mainly from the (then) incomprehensible insanity that one would seemingly need to have to voluntarily, of being sound in mind and body, to step onto the contraptions and be locked and strapped in. It’s for their safety of course, because a small minute infinitesimal percentage of thrill-seekers have died for their courageous endeavors. But that’s just a minor detail that can easier be overlooked. Right?

So with the help of a few friends, I allowed myself to peacefully submit to the craziness that they called fun. And my luck would have it, that the first behemoth we encountered just had to be the largest and most death-defying/inducing monster we could try. Not to mention half the group chickened out on us. But this wasn’t about them. This was about me. Like a lamb being led to the slaughter, I trudged along the line, slowly inching closer and closer to my supposed doom. We were led into the seats, had the belts strapped on, the bar lowered down. As if we were in some creepy horror movie, the bar creaked an eerie foreboding noise as it came down, and with every click, it gave the impression that death was raising its scythe higher and higher and higher. As soon as the brakes were let go, so too would his polearm be set free, and with a quick silent whoosh, so would my head.

But there were no cloaked figures there, nor were there any medieval items present in any way, shape or form. It was just me, and now, the openness of the track ahead of me, and in the literal form, the sky being the limit of my adventure. For as we slowly crawled towards the climax of the ride, where all hell would break loose, and the brakes holding us back would release their clamped grip; it was here that I finally realized what I was in for. And at this umpteenth hour, there really was no way out. No last words for me to say. No last wishes to be offered. The time was now, and I had to man up and face my fears like a man.

Needless to say, pictorial records would reveal me to be half hunched over, eyes closed, as close to a fetal position as a supposedly securely strapped-in person could get in. But that death was like a new rebirthing, one that allowed me to come back and tell the tales, joys rather, of the fast rushing wind blowing into my face, the thrill of zooming up and down and around the track, screaming with ecstasy and complete abandon, with no regard for anything or anyone around me. This new me had completely lost itself within the overwhelmingly powerful sensations that could not divest me from this newfound joy I had discovered.

Like ants addicted to the sweet heavenly taste of sugar, or anything else of similar delightful sweetness, I just couldn’t stay away. Even though the ride had long ended, I unconsciously found myself drawn back to this quivering vortex, unable to exert any conscious control of myself. In a near ethereal state of being, I seemed to watch myself from afar as my body mechanically continued to return time and time again to this madness, seemingly just riding out the ups and downs of the attraction. Might I have needed a way out? Perhaps. Could I have voluntarily expunged myself from this devilry? I doubt it.

So, like watching a movie where I’m the main character, this episodic channel really has no plot, and all the substance there is consists of the rider going up and down on this never-ending journey that seems to have no pauses in the storyline at all. I just want to ask the conductor, engineer, operator, whoever, if I could just take a break. Get away. Get off from this insanity. To hopefully regain control over myself and to live once again, instead of being enslaved to this intoxicating addiction. But there’s no one in sight; not a soul behind me, not a living-being in front. Is there any way for me to escape this madness?

07.17.09, 12.53 - 1.27am

Blind Jump

2009-07-16T19:01:00.000-07:00

I’m not sure exactly as to what I’m doing;
I jump blindly into the abyss
not certain that things won’t go amiss.
It’s mostly a leap of faith on my part
trusting only in my gut and my heart
that things'll come out well
with as little pain to dwell.

I never truly planned this out
I din't take my time to reassure my doubt
but I'm sure I can learn on the fly
with the limit of my growth as high as the sky
Conversely, on the other side of the fence
there lies a great penchant for my exeuence

Some people like to merely get their feet wet
I'd rather take the plunge and see what I get
I've held back for way too long
sitting on the sidelines humming my song
If everyone else is making it work
then why can't I too partake of this perk?

07.16.09, 6.47-7.00pm
-----
Bare with me for a bit. I need to get some (bad) writing out of my system, just for writing's sake.

And yes. I did make up a word here. I know it's bad.

Rekindling.

2009-07-07T22:07:00.000-07:00

I think I love her. Again.

As they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder, and this is no exception to the rule. With the advent of this past year, we were physically at our farthest that we’ve ever been. The frequencies of our seeing each other dwindled down to dangerously low levels. It was as if both our tanks were running on empty; that this would be the end of our journey together. I was getting ready to say goodbye to the good ride that I had the privilege of being a part of for these past few years, thinking that I had milked the most I could have out of this old antique.

But you know, old veterans don’t give up easily. With a little few tweaks here and there, thanks to technology, she was up and running, purring so beautifully no one could have known she was supposedly past her prime. We stayed up late, chatting online, talking through the phone, or texting however and whenever. I mean, it wasn’t as childish as a few years ago, when we needed to constantly be in touch with each other by any means of communication 24/7. Being as far as we were, we had enough freedom to do our own things, a lesson I painfully learned in my more naïve days of living. That only made me respect her that much more and elevated her into unattainable heights in my mind. She was just too amazing.

So life is strange and wondrous and crazy. We recently were able to hang out for a little bit recently, and nothing that happened decreased my feelings for her, in any way. If anything, it only added fuel to a kindling fire, eagerly wanting to know if this could grow into a full fledge flame, or if the small spark was destined to rise a little bit, only to fatally crash and burn. And in the midst of this invisible flame, we were just fooling around, doing nothing in particular, enjoying the scarce few moments we had before life called each of us to our own separate ways once again, until the new time we would be able to meet up. She pulled out a few mementos of our shared past, recalling the good times we had with each other and with others as well.

As I drove her back to her place, we would talk and then be silent and go through this cycle over and over. But the silences we had; they weren’t awkward pauses in the conversation. Rather, they proved to be a comforting tranquil moment shared between us, each of us being drawn in with our thoughts and our being there together at that point in time. Upon departing, we both promised each other that we would hang out again sometime, hopefully sooner than later. But thankfully, those weren’t just empty words. I hope.

The only saddening thought? No, not our goodbye, for moment from then is one second closer until I next see her again. But rather that a lot of our collective memory went back to further points in time. Meaning we need more memories in the present. And you can be damned sure I’ll be trying hard to make that happen.

07.07.09, 10.40pm-12.20am.

The Climb.

2009-06-05T22:07:00.000-07:00

Slowly crawling up the ladder, he pushes himself to get over every single little bar. With each foot barely gripping against the wooden frame of the five bar furniture, his tiring movements seem to say that this one might be his last. But after some long laborious actions, he finally succeeds in reaching the highest rung of the ladder. His reward for such hard work: the comforts of his nice warm snug bed.

But that was just the beginning. Now that he has ascended the mountain that was the gigantic ladder, now that he has arrived at the pinnacle of this peak, another task awaits him. Plopping down with a big “ommph,” he starts tucking himself in, pulling the blankets and covers up to his chin, curling into the warm sheets; the speed at which he accomplishes all this rivals that of a sloth.

One would hope that this was the end of his tiring journey. And for most people, it is. After they have passed the little plateau that usually causes others to stumble, if they have the mental and physical aptitude to reach this point, the reward is completely theirs to enjoy, with absolutely no strings attached. But for the other groups of people, those not so fortunate to be able to so easily reach that desired goal, they have a second half adventure, another difficult sojourn filled with obstacles and tribulations through which they have to be able to conquer before they can taste the sweet delicious nectar of victory.

The issue is, one never really knows which category one falls into. From the onset, everyone naively likes to think that they are in the first group, the divinely blesssed ones who are able to just “get it” the first time around. But half an hour later, when you realize that you have yet to be able to reap your supposedly deserved reward, the epiphany hits you; you’re in the class of those who have to continue the good fight because you won’t be awarded a free dinner tonight. So you continue to toss and turn and roll all around, trying all positions of the bed, blanket, and pillow as well as every single combination of the three known to man in order to finally hit that sweet spot. You do everything in your power to try and fight off the attacks of the enemy, to allow you to peacefully drift off to the land of the sleeping. Ah, if only it were so easy.

You turn away from your somewhat curled position and lie flat on your back, your closed eyelids facing the ceiling of the room, hoping that the blackness that comes from the night and your blocked vision will soon too encompass and consume you. Your hands go under the pillow, grasping it closer to your head so as to bring in more of the softness and comfort closer to you. You contort your body in the strangest ways, thinking some obscure method not known to man will help you reach that blissful moment. Nothing works.

Your eyes start to tear, as each passing second, minute, hour pass you by. You start to wonder if this was all just a tease, that you were never meant to taste the forbidden fruit that everyone else seems to be able to partake of. You cry to yourself, bewilderedly asking yourself why you were singled out, why you were left to this cruel fate.

But as you slowly become so absorbed in your thoughts, as the swirling madness starts to suck you in, that void and vortex of your mind reaches out to your with its long branch-like arms and pulls you in. You’re in. You’ve finally made it at last.

06.05.09, 1.39-2.06am

Nothing Left

2009-05-28T22:06:00.000-07:00

what would you have me do?
submit to you
completely and utterly without a clue?

i have no more free will
all that i had and all that i was
you completely and utterly domineered over me

i had no chance
because you completely consumed me
and left me with no air to breathe

how else did you think i’d react?
under such situations as what i’m going through
i didn’t really have any other options

my complete submission to you
was what you wanted from me
and i foolishly gave it all to you

so here i am. now. with nothing at all.
you’ve taken it all from me and left me here
with not even the slightest sense of direction.

05.28.09, 2.42-2.46am

The Resplendent Dawn

2009-05-24T22:06:00.000-07:00

so I’m sitting here, alone in my room
thinking to myself, why am I blue?
it’s so late at night, and I should be in bed
but here I am at the comp, thinking instead.
thinking about whats transpired over the week
thinking about that which I seek
if you asked me, if you wanted to know
if I could quantify it, just for show.
then I’d say to you, unfortunately, no
even I, myself, can’t get it to flow

so here I am, alone in the darkness
pondering, questioning, the reason for my sadness
as I step back and observe my tiny little history
I keep stumbling back upon this one little mystery
of how and why I fell into this trap
of how and why I’ve taken so much crap
my naive young desires, my foolish childish ways
most definitely, indeed, have led me astray
but even then, even then, I ask to myself
why wasn’t I able to find any help?

so rooted in my seat, seated on my chair
I continue to ask myself, was it ever fair?
that I so freely gave all that I had
my time, energy, and efforts; everything by your demand
but as for me, I was fed only half truths
but as for me, you never ever offered me a clue
to the fact that you were leading me on
such a wild goose chase that continued till dawn
but now that it’s time for the sun to come up
there’s light enough to see that I’m free from your cup

05.24.09, 1.31-1.52am

True Lies

2009-05-19T22:05:00.000-07:00

this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve taken a stroll,
a lonely troubled walk with my haunted contorted soul
checking every little footstep that I’ve taken with you
needing to see, to hope, to know that each step was true

having been through this process so many damned times
there’s nothing keeping me back from uncovering those mines
that threaten to explode with any slight little motion
because I’ve chosen to neglect them for too many seasons

seeing as we’re two worlds apart, we’re given so much freedom
but that freedom was given, respected against any treason
i never thought that we were ever see this dark sad day
where the truth reveals your own wayward stray way

so i finally see that you never believed in a “one and only”
but instead sought to satisfy your desires surreptitiously
now here i am, all alone, still in a disbelieving state
wondering what i ever did to deserve this cruel fate

but the crux of the matter comes only from my own delusion
for wanting to believe this false reality and ignoring the contusion
time to take a step back and let myself heal from this encounter
hopefully I’ll never again let myself be trickened and falter

05.19.09, 6.10-6.24pm

—–

Just needed to get some poetic writing out, since it’s been a while since I’ve last done it.

The Crème de la Crème

2009-05-06T22:04:00.000-07:00

It’s been a while. Going into this past week, she’s been busy with her first collegiate finals and has constantly been studying every spare moment that she had. And wanting the best for her, I just let her do what she needed to do so that she could do it well.

It wasn’t too hard to do. I had my things to do; she had her exams to study for. And of course, those exams were very important, usually worth anywhere from 40%-60% of a course’s grade. Obviously not something to take very lightly. Especially since I have had first hand experience when it comes to squandering that precious time away.

Seven days. 168 hours. 10080 minutes. 604800 seconds. Those come out to be some pretty big and significant numbers. And those numerical quantifications of time show the number of days, hours, minutes, seconds that her voice was hidden from me. That she was, for a short while, not infinitely connected at the other end of the line. It was a temporarily broken connection.

But someone once said that happiness should not be derived from the joys of that come from that special someone. Rather, that special someone should be a complement to your euphoria, likened to a delicious scrumptious dessert that follows after a great extravagant dinner. I once traveled down that dark and contorted road of making the dessert my everything and forsaking the all too important main course. That foolish mistake was made in my younger more naïve days. Needless to say, I got my just desserts.

So now here I am, wiser, more mature, having learned the important lessons of my youth. There comes a time when space just needs to be had; not as a result of relationship issues, but more so because of situations during which one must expend all the energy one has on an overwhelming task that must be completed with the strictest of diligence.

And so I waited. Because of the stomach illness from that past experience with the dessert, I now knew to focus, slow down, and enjoy the appetizer and entree without rushing towards the Crème de la Crème of the meal. It’s not going anywhere.

At that time, when I am finally able to partake of the sweet delight that awaits, I’ll then know the surpassing joy that comes from waiting, not rushing, and letting it come to me in due time. There truly is no better moment during the course of this gourmet dish of life than when we finally get what we waited so patiently for.

05.06.09, 12.59-1.27am
—–
Yeah I know it’s been a while. And I’ve gotten rusty again (if there is such a state as rustier than rusty). And that the extended metaphor should probably have been started earlier so as to bring a better sense of cohesion to the whole story. But ehz.

Unfinished Business.

2009-04-03T22:03:00.000-07:00

It wasn’t his fight. At least, it wasn’t his fight any longer. He had toiled in this battle, doing all that he could to help his side advance and possibly break though. For the past eighteen months, all his sweat and labor and body and soul had been poured into this battlefront. He gave all that he had so that something, anything, could come about for the betterment of his world. But the enemy was relentless, matching his unwavering dedication muscle to muscle, brow to brow. It was a complete stalemate.

And so, his tour of duty was up. He was free, command said, to go back home, enjoy the comforts of civilian life, and just kick back and relax and not worry about what had been his complete entire life for the past year and a half. They expected him to simply pack up and relocate and assimilate into a normal life as easily as one would expect a bird to fly.

As one would expect, such a drastic change in lifestyle was not easy to revert back to. Every little thing in his immediate surrounding seemed to come off as a threat to him, something that was so similar to the action he was engaged in when he was mired in the heat of battle. He would jump or squirm whenever something unexpectedly came into his vision. It was just all a result of the natural conditioning he had been required to undergo to prepare himself for whatever he would encounter; except the drilling he endured had not in the slightest left any leeway for him to revert back to how he once lived prior to enlisting.

It’s been a full six months since he was escorted away from the front lines. He should have been able to readjust to being just another normal person, going about the daily routines of his mundane life. But he hasn’t. In the past half year, his wandering mind has constantly led him back to staring across into enemy lines, trying to see the white of their eyes, by which he could identify his targets. His mind has been unable to cast off the inner strategist that lived within him; it has continually been at working, trying to figure out a myriad of ways for alpha team and bravo team to get around enemy lines to cause as much damage possible with as few casualties permissible.

Why has it been so difficult for him? Why hasn’t he been able to lay it all down? Besides the fact that that was the only life he knew out there, that he had undergone intense training to be completely prepared for any and every situation which would face him in battle, there was another nagging issue in the back of his mind which led him to keeping chewing on the subject.

He still had unfinished business in that realm. He had not completed the task that which he had been sent out to do. By not having a concrete resolution to this conflict (even though it was something bigger than him and not necessarily a personal issue of his), he could not live with himself. His leaving of the scene seemed almost sudden and abrupt to him, and he needed to right what was wrong in his eyes. Even though he was technically back at home, or so the army said, he wasn’t home. His true home lay out in the midst of the rage of battle, next to his fellow soldiers, never giving up until the mission was completed.

04.03.09, 11.50pm -12.41am

Chilling.

2009-03-11T22:03:00.000-07:00

He sits there, silently, steadfastly, all by himself on the very top of the large gigantic boulder. Perched atop of his high throne, he gazes down below him upon the bustling little suburb. The occasional car that goes by. The random shout from a child playing in the streets. A small influx of activity at the basketball courts. Everyone down there attending to his or her own activities.

His being here, so high above the scene, taking in what’s before him as he weathers and endures the blistering wind that blows and chills him to the care, is somewhat strange. Why would any person in their right mind decide to make the tortuous climb up into the woods, scale the side of the mountain, and then sit atop a large unstable boulder that could threaten to fall and roll down the sides at a moment’s notice?

The weather continues to buffet him as best as it can. It is relentless, refusing to die down to give him a modicum of peace to allow him to collect his thoughts. The cold continues to poke and prod at his hands, his feet, his face, reminding him that he is truly not alone. He acknowledges this pain merely by dipping his head lower and trying to cover his feet with his hands, thereby reducing the surface area of exposure to the elements. His reason for coming up here has yet to be accomplished.

Away from the world, away from the people that trouble, annoy, and hassle him, he finally has some time alone to spend with his convoluted thoughts. Especially since he has been feeling a trifle misanthropic lately, he has desired, for a long time now, to get away from it all. Just the slightest action against him had recently begun to push him over the limit and explode into a gargantuan mess of anger and hate that would have threatened to scorch any person within a close enough radius to his uncontrollable release.

Still silent to himself, not really showing much more motion to give into the test of the elements, he continues to embrace that which is embracing him, taking him into the innermost folds of the dreariest depths of nature. With the sun slowly beginning to rise from behind him, bringing some light to a few darks corners, he realizes now that time is not exactly unlimited. The days and nights come and go, and he is no exception to this rule. As his shadow creeps upon the area in front of him, getting larger and covering more and more space as the sun moves into position up in the morning sky, he accepts that it is time to return to the world, to squeeze in and conform to the idiotic norms of society which seem so trivial and useless to him.

One day, eventually, he will cast a long and dark shadow over many things, and when that day comes, he will have finally reached a level of contentment with himself and with many other things that always seem to bite at him and bring him trouble to no end. One day, all will be well within the world and maybe he will no longer have to call the cold bitterest winds his closest friend. Perhaps, just maybe, there will be a day when he will seek to jump into the folds of society and cast off the icy nature of his and become one with the warmth and glow that mingling with others has to offer.

But until that day comes, he will continue to live in and out of his solid hard composed demeanor which repels all who try to draw near to him. And that day will be when the sun no longer rises in the morning.

03.11.09, 1.31 – 1.51am

Lost

2009-03-11T22:02:00.000-07:00

I just don’t know what to do
I can’t get rid of my feelings for you
You’re constantly there, laughing at me
Mocking me and wondering why I can’t see
That the truth of the matter is, it’s impossible
There is no chance for this to be probable
Living a life as such that I have
Desiring such things as I’m want to add

Falling off the cliff is only my first step
My next course of action, as you would bet
Is to firmly immerse myself in some sort of madness
To drive and consume me to the point of sadness
Seeing how I can never exceed my goals
Seeing as how I constantly fail at my own show
How can I get off this wretched train wreck
Can I get away from this contorted trek?

Nothing ever seems to come my way in life
I’m always left to fight and wish for some light
My actions in one direction
Often lead me into another projection
So then I think to myself
Why even bother seeking some help
If I’m destined to hit continuous dead ends
I might as well start bucking the trend.

03.11.09, 1.15-1.25am

Betrayal

2009-03-09T22:01:00.000-07:00

I started out with many by my side;
They said they were infallible
That they would always weather the tide
With a devotion that was unflappable.

But slowly and surely, the world baited
One after another, they were drawn away
I was forsaken for things that were tainted
They ignored the future for want of today.

A steadfast friend they desired to shed
Instead they fell back on temporal things.
The proven and true they sought to fled
To grab onto their makeshift kings.

I can’t believe I was betrayed and turned out
Especially by you, you ignorant fool
Can’t you see the upcoming endless bouts
Can’t you see how you’ve become such a tool?

You leave me no choice; I must take action
Complete destruction of diplomacy seems too harsh a reaction
But if I can’t trust you to be true
What else is left for me to do with you?

03.09.09, 10.55-11.17pm

Muted Daybreak.

2009-03-06T22:00:00.000-08:00

My head hasn’t been quite right for some time now. Ever since that one day, that one unimaginable day which will be forever burned into the back of my mind, engraved on stone for eternity, I’ve been like a ship adrift at sea. Always wandering, meandering, never focused upon the subject that which should have my undivided attention. But such is the way of life.

I was sitting at the commons, just finishing up my lunch and ready to transition over to starting some work while I was in the comfortable confines of the chattering of peoples in the background. This strange buzz was one of the more soothing sounds to be heard, which was much better than the blasting of so-called music they play. Minding my own business, I stared intently at the title chapter. It read, “Linear Combinations of Atomic Orbitals and Molecular Orbitals.” I abhorred this disgustingly long phrase that would enslave me for the next hour or so. Focused upon this horrid topic, I never noticed her sit down beside me.

“Looks like that’s pretty hard,” she said. “Do you have a midterm coming up or something?” And so we started talking as I was reading my study material and as she pulled out her work as well. Our study time was interspersed with some talk and silence as we came and left the conversation table, seeing as both of us had our own cumbersome material to master for that next exam coming up. Even though neither of us was the sole focus of the other that day, there was apparently a little spark that was created then.

Life continued. I went to my classes, to eat, to study, to hang out with people. Sporadically, I’d see her, we’d stop and talk, and then go about our own separate ways again. There wasn’t really much I could do about it because of some unspoken rule that governed us. It was just there, and the barrier was not to be broken, for fear of a consequence worse than death. Unbelievable, I know. But I could not act and move beyond it.

In the course of my so-called normal life, which was disproportionally filled with too much studying and not enough leisure activities, there was a second day for which added fuel to the little kindling. I was once again in the common area, minding my own business and struggling to solve a pointless math problem for which there would be no real life connection outside of this course. It was busier than usual, but there was an open seat next to me. She ended up taking it once again. Because of the increased traffic in here today, we were scrunched up a bit more tightly this time. Call it a throwback from the childish puppy-love days, but just that one simple sensory feeling of touch was enough to derail my mind.

Even now it continues to toy with me, causing my mind to wander. This is where I am now, unable to figure out why such a simple trivial action has blossomed into some strange infatuation that which I cannot be rid of. Do I really mind it? Truly, no. It is a little ray of light that manages to bring a smile to my face whenever trouble thoughts cloud my mind. There’s more to her than the other thousands of girls on campus. She’s just something really special and unique, a rare unblemished treasure in the midst of the chaos of life. But unless some certain circumstances change, I’ve gone as far as I can and am unable to truly pursue after this once in a lifetime beauty.

03.06.09, 3.30-3.44pm

Surreptitious Siphoning.

2009-02-27T22:00:00.000-08:00

He hates where he’s at. If there were any easy feasible way to escape from this wretched hellhole, he’d sign up and take the first bus out of there. But there isn’t anything as simple as that. The only route with an exit sign pointing ahead is the path that leads straight off the cliff, over into the abyss, with thousands of sharp pointed jagged rocks rising up, each more prickly than the others. He’s absolutely trapped in an endless circle of pain, and the other way he can get out also involves pain. Decisions decisions.

It’s really his fault thought. He let himself be taken into this wicked sensation, to be swept up and entranced in the delight that is his euphoria. The germinating stages of this development were ever so subtle. First came the instant messages. Then the texts. And the phone calls. And the constant hanging out. And then the perpetual hang outs, where the myriad forms of connection melded into one gigantic never ending leash that kept him always tethered to her. The tornado that swept through his life happened so slowly and quietly that he didn’t even know when one stage ended and the next began. He simply was just there.

And of course, at the start, he enjoyed it, loved it. He had never experienced anything like it before. Someone wanted his attention, constantly, nearly continually. And he wanted hers. It was an action that was equally reciprocated. Both sides brought their fair share to the table, both sides ate, and both sides were content and satiated. But as time went on, she, slowly and surreptitiously, started to bring less and less, expecting him to do more and more. And he did, because he was so blinded by this feeling that a little more on his part really didn’t mean anything. He was glad to help make up the minor deficits, so long as all continued to go so well.

But in the same way that he was enticed into this never ending pain, so did she slowly remove all the joy that was brought into the union. One day, it would be as normal as any other day in the past, full of continuous texts and chats and talks and calls and connection late into the night. On others, it would be a little as a single text, a far cry from the life that he had grown accustomed to. Even worse were the days when nothing was there; the essence that he drew upon was no longer there. The first time he experienced this emptiness threw him into a total and utter state of chaos and confusion.

He essentially entered a vegetative state. He couldn’t work, couldn’t move, couldn’t react or interact with others around him. The good times that he had stored up as treasure in his memory attic swirled around him, captivating him in that bind. This heavy anchor refused to let him go and move on from that down point. The person that he once was, lively and full of joy and action and quick wit; what he became was merely a shell of what once used to be. She had, over time, completely drained all the single-minded life out of him. He was depleted.

As time progressed, he was able to regain some of the lost life force that had been siphoned from him. It was a long tortuous process, one that left him many bruises and scars as he went through rehabilitation to fight against the constant waves of depression that cascaded over his thoughts. She sometimes dropped by and said a word or two; on good days, she might even grace him with her presence for a decent amount of time. But regardless, time and time again, she continued to leave, never staying to truly see how he was doing. Was she aware of the trials and tribulations that she herself brought him through? Not a chance. She didn’t really care for him; he was just a backup toy that she fell back upon, for once he had already offered everything that he had to her, there was nothing else that she could really take from him.

Because there was nothing else of value in him, from her perspective, she only returned when she needed him. When there was no one else, she knew, she would always have him wrapped in the palm of her hand. But he had other plans.

Through his rehabilitation, this new growing sense of life and paradigm shift resulting from this experience showed him how to cast off the cloak of deception and lies and to live a life that fully belonged to him, as life intended him to do. No longer was he dependent on her for his emotional support and satisfaction; he was his own man once again. And just as she used her slow sly ways to draw him in and throw him out, so would he master her clandestine ways of pulling the rug out from under people, and one day, he will truly be able to cast off the shackles that bonded him for so long in such a inhumane position.

02.27.08, 1.10 – 1.37am

Shine Time

2009-02-17T21:59:00.000-08:00

Now’s the time for my redemption
The time for me to relieve affliction.
I understand my precarious position;
One false step and it’s complete submission.
There’s only a limited chance for re-admission;
This dance won’t last with substitutions.
And once my efforts come to fruition,
I know I’ll finally have some affirmation.

But until I reach that worthy mantle
To grasp my hands around the wondrous title,
I’ll need to push myself to not be idle
To not give up and whine like a child.
I’ll do, without complaint, that extra mile;
I’ll accept and use the dirty towel.
I refuse to fall behind and become expendable
And eventually fall to the back end of the table.

So for this short period I have, this narrow window of time
You won’t find me outside ringing the chime.
I’ll bust my way in, fighting my crime
To allow myself to be the best and shine.
I’ll blow away the competition, reduce them to grime
Because you’ve never seen such a specimen so fine.
So now I take flight and begin to sublime
For at the end of the line awaits me my bottle of wine.

02.17.09, 12.58 – 1.36am
—–
This wasn’t as easy as it seemed when I started out, lol. I’m aware the second stanza doesn’t exactly work out the way I wanted, but close enough.

A Lament.

2009-02-13T21:58:00.000-08:00

All bound up, with no where to go
You’re stuck there in your tiny little hole
You refuse to let loose and explore what is new
And choose instead to keep the old that is few
You’ll never break out of that hard shell of yours
Never expose the depths of your core
As a result of this introverted state
You’ve basically resigned to your unfortunate fate
With no sense of desire or ambition in you
Your life has come to pass with nothing to do
So sit in your hole and let the darkness consume
All that was fine and mighty in you.

02.13.09, 6.20-6.26pm

One Day

2009-02-11T21:58:00.000-08:00

This feeling I’ve got, this feeling inside
Is something that I cannot easily hide
What can I do to reveal to you
The distinction between lies and truth

It is what it is, there’s no doubt about it
I can no longer keep this secret
Like the stars in the sky and the darkness of night
So too were we a match from the beginning of time

Your voice is a sweet melodious song
I miss it so much when you’re gone
The feeling I get when we embrace
Keeps me begging for more with each taste

Staying up late into the wee hours of night
Neither wants to be the first to say good bye
For just one more minute, we hold onto each other
Even though our next meeting will be that much better

For want of you, I cast all aside
My priority was to steal any semblance of time
Just to be with you; it made my day
There was nothing else I needed to say

The fire that once was needs to be rekindled again
But I’m sure it’s still there, slowly beggin’
To come back, stronger than ever
So I can’t give up, constantly fighting this burn

Perhaps one day, when the weight of the world has fled
And you’re free to do what you’ve always said
To no longer be shackled by burdens
And maybe finally free to open your heart then.

02.11.09, 12.27-12.46am

£¤√€.hλ†&

2009-02-10T21:57:00.000-08:00

t’s just another day really, nothing entirely special
The sun breaks in the morning; it departs at night
Yet the materialistic world offers another view
Says there’s only one perfect expression of a flame alight

Their tagline for this mundane day
Speaks to our wallets, to our credit cards
Begging and demanding that we open them up
And be sliced and diced to fit their corrupted hearts

But some of us do know better
Those of us with a true love within us
We spurn and turn down these falsities
Choosing to display our affection for those we trust

Our trust in those we love and cherish
Our trust in those who we can always depend on
A day of thanks need not come on a single solitary day
A symbol of thanks need not quickly come and be gone

Call this a rejection of stupid traditions
Call this a renunciation of moral customs
There’s nothing that sets this day apart from another
Except the sight of wasteful spending that I cannot fathom

To those who are, to those who be
Always and forever, steadfastly by my side
You deserve much more than what the world can give
Our reward comes in supporting each other on this wild ride.

02.10.09, 10.08 – 10.28pm

Free

2009-02-09T21:56:00.000-08:00

Freedom is sweet, freedom is delicious
The taste I’ve got is no longer surreptitious
No longer shackled by these heavy chains
I flee from all that was mundane
I escape to that which I desire
And seek to find the proper attire
The small sample I once held so dear
Is now ever drawing closer and nearer
My scars from within, forever with me they’ll be
But regardless, it allows me to see
From whence I came, to where I’m headed
And thus a offering of hope I take abetted.

02.08.09, 11.50pm – 12.00am
—–
My articulation seems to slowly flee from me as each new publication comes to life. This really feels so.. ehz.

Radiance.

2009-02-07T21:56:00.000-08:00

The white Mercedez-Benz continued to slosh through the torrent of cascading rain. The passengers inside, all four of them, were safely protected from the elements of nature by the rigidness of the vehicle’s interior. As a result of this covering, not a single eye inside was concerned with the unimaginable flood that threatened to overwhelm them, seeing as it had continued its unobstructed barrage for endless ages by now. They were quite warm within this luxury sedan, complete with the comforting sound of the pitter-patter that clanged off the body’s metal exterior.

Coupled along with the ambient noise nature provided for the four passengers was the low volume radio that played some random song that had a pretty decent cadence to it; the lyrics were of negligible importance. The thump-thump and the pitter-patter combined to form a sort of destructive interference so as to not overwhelm the atmosphere with an annoying cacophony of indistinguishable audio. The only sound that really transcended the myriad sources of noise was the whooshing of the car’s wheels as the Benz flew over the wet surface and evicted the gathering water from its current position on the ground into the other lanes of traffic. This low volume humming and whooshing slowly drew the people inside into a lulling slumber.

That is, until a small pothole jumped into the level path in front of them. This unexpected hitch in the ride jarred everyone from their low energy state into a normal sense of alertness. As their minds slowly crept out of the darkness and back into the motion-birthing light, conversation also began to coincide with the awakening.

As they began to speak, the words flowing out from their mouths spewed forth with an unimaginable weight of wisdom weighing down on it. Each sound that flew off their respective tongues seemed to be as valuable as a golden nugget’s worth. This food for thought found here would be more than enough to feed the world’s entire population, twice or three times over.

And this is why the smallest passenger in the car, the youngest of age, chose to keep silent as this verbal sparring was taking place. The intensity of such knowledge that was offered around him was so overwhelming that he could do nothing but to sit there and remain silent, using the backdrop of the ambient noise to keep him focused on the wondrous action taking place before him. With no pen or pencil, there really was no way for him to remember these precious items, so all he could do was to frantically record everything that flew by him at record pace and store them in a convoluted mess within his mind, which would hopefully allow him to return to these items at a later time, when that hourglass did not deplete its contents so quickly so as to give him the proper time to digest all that he as absorbed.

Until the opportune time, until the right moment presents itself, he shall remain silent. He slowly bides his energy and accumulates any and every tidbit of knowledge he can gather up, constantly tweaking the gears within his mind. One day, when the sun breaks through the brazen barrier of the dark gray clouds and shines its light to all little crevices, he too will break out from the vehicle, having completed his journey, and impart the brilliance that he has stored to those who are willing to hear. And to those who spurn and reject him, who are unable to handle the stinging rays of the revealing truth, they will have no choice but to be drawn to reality and stripped of their feeble fantasy as their eyes are finally open and as they too finally receive a glimpse of the light.

02.07.08, 3:50 – 4.22am.

—–

I don’t know what this was when I started with it. Nor do I know what the ending really does except to provide me with a way to close this random writing. Ehz.

Tragic Loss

2009-02-04T00:01:00.000-08:00

I close my eyes
And the night speaks to me
Each little star way up in the sky
Shines as bright as the eye can see

With my eyes closed
Nothing escapes me
The darkness in disconcerted little rows
Only enhances the vivid imagery

These eyes wide shut
Able to glimpse the beauty at hand
It all ends abrupt
Slipping like grains of sand.

02.03.09, 11.54pm – 12.00am

Memories.

2009-02-03T23:29:00.000-08:00

And sometimes it makes me want to cry.

So she’s been gone for nearly two years now. I suppose we’ve both moved on; I with my collegiate studies; she with her overseas boarding school. It was a sad departure marked by the abrupt decision her parents made to send her away. I was the main result of that. If not for our daring late night meetings, blanketed by the darkness of the night, perhaps this clandestine activity would not have done us in.

Unfortunately, it is what it is. I still remember that night. And all the other times that we were able to share before the tumultuous day. It was about 10 at night, and I had just finished my homework. On her side, she had already finished long ago, on the account of her having a lighter load than I. Although it was still quite early in the night, her parents tended to retire right around this time. After she gave me the all clear signal, I quietly left the house and climbed two fences, scaled a tree, and fought off a cat to get to her backyard.

The daunting thing about this time we steal for ourselves is that I have to get past her parent’s bedroom. It lies closest in proximity to their backyard. Even the family dog is a lesser obstacle; from day one, we’ve hit it off and become the best of friends. But I, being the master ninja that I am, never found this situation to be too bad. Until this fateful day.

The best I can attribute this ill-fated happening is just a bad strike of luck. Her mom happened to walk out thirty minutes after the all clear to move a dying plant from their room to the backyard. Next thing I knew, her parents freaked out and ended up pulling an overly drastic move to send her away from the continent, the city, and dangerous bad boy.

We still talked and chatted over AIM and phone calls and Oovoo and everything, but as time and distance worked against us, the force of attraction just slowly seemed to wilt. I eventually resorted to sending a ton of texts and e-mails and Facebook comments and the like, but she was just so busy sometimes that it was nearly impossible to have her instantly be on the other end of the line. When I finally did get her on the phone, it was a joyous occasion, but it also unfortunately included one too many silent pauses. Whether they were the good pauses or the awkward kind, I’ll never really be too sure.

One popularly uttered phrase is “distance makes the heart grow fonder.” Yet, at the same time, being away from someone with whom you’ve invested so much time and effort and love in a relationship with; the resulting effect is a skewed perception of said person. Their niceties are magnified; their faults, diminished. They end up being lifted high on a pedestal, being portrayed as the best significant other one could ever find. In some cases, that may be true. But the reality of most situations is the unsettling fact that the heart eventually overtakes the brain, allowing pathos to overtake the more steadfast logos.

Yet, these memories, these wonderful little nuggets that I treasure so dearly; I just cannot bring myself to bury them. Even though it was a rough ending, definitely not the one anyone would desire, the moments we shared, the experiences we had together, they helped shape me into the person I am today. Without the ups and downs that came hand in hand with our relationship, I probably would not be at the point that I am today. Whether or not that comes out to be beneficial or detrimental, only time will tell. Until then, there really is no point in trying to suppress the past, especially when there were some great moments that we were able to share together. Who knows what life, fate, and the future have in store for us. Perhaps one day, our paths will cross again and we’ll be able suspend time for an instant, for just a glimpse, and be able to recapture what was so forcefully stripped away.

02.03.09, 11:00-11:30pm.

Deadly Delicious Desires.

2009-01-29T23:50:00.000-08:00

It stares at me. Mocking me. Tempting me. Laughing at me.
It just won’t leave me alone, regardless of what I say or do.
It’s call is just too strong, something I cannot withstand.
The mind knowledge is there, but the will isn’t.
Why must it sit there, taunting me with its presence.
It knows I want it; it knows what affect it has on me.
This indulgence would be my downfall, that much is certain.
So what course of action is left for me, this weak wretched soul?
Do I give in and accept, like the heart says I should?
After all, nothing really wrong could happen, says one side.
But the opposing field argues a wholly convincing counter
Saying the truth of the situation might cause another happening
One so much worse than that which was seen before.
But such a catastrophe, such an apocalypse of that magnitude
Could never happen again; does lightning strike twice?
And regardless of that answer, the fire of the past is not the same.
It’s a more docile controlled beautiful work of art
One to be cherished and kindled into a magnificent blaze.
Or so the heart thinks. Desires. Pines and yearns for.
I want to. So much. Endlessly and without ceasing
Just to never let up and monopolize it completely.
Of course, after receiving the proper permissions.
For no two cakes are ever the exact same dessert, correct?

01.29.09, 11.30-11.51pm

Bondage and Freedom

2009-01-13T23:28:00.000-08:00

Oh how I loved it. The feeling of euphoria that entranced me wrapped me up and covered me like a soft blanket. I could never pull away from it. Least, not on my own. I saw no reason to. Why leave something that is enticing and exciting? Everyone else was just jealous.

She was something others didn’t have, could never have. She was all mine. There was no way I was going to share her. She was my beauty, my prize that belonged only to me. Mine. Mine.

Was it an addiction? An obsession? Did I imbibe too much of this sweet poison? Perhaps. But none of that really mattered. What did any one else know. This feeling that I had, this feeling that I had captured at that exact moment in time; it could never be recreated again. Not with any other soul.

I knew it was wrong all along. From the start, there was a little nagging voice in the back of my mind that quietly tried to pull me back away from my deranged reality. I heard it. It’s polite suggestions were dully noted as I continue to indulge myself in this pervasive pleasure. I thought I knew what I was getting into. I had it all under control.

As I went back, time and time again, it got worse and worse. It eventually degenerated into my having her nearly daily, hourly if possible. She obliged, sometimes with an all too-knowing smile. Such trickery. Such lechery. The venus fly trap had ensnared its weak willing prey. She had me, body and soul, and she knew it.

There really was no way out. All four sides around me had been slowly closing in on me since day one. Even the top seemed too close for comfort. I was never claustrophobic before, but now I definitely was. I yelled at the licentious serpent, shouting that I’ve had enough. I wanted out. Needed out. I begged and begged to be released. For her to loosen her grasps ever so, just enough for me to have a little freedom. That’s all I wanted.

She laughed. She gave that off-centered smile of hers and drew me back in, saying that no longer was she mine, but I, hers. She was my owner and she got to do absolutely whatever she wanted to do to me. I was powerless to say no, to offer any objections. She had me binded to her, complete with shackles and ropes and a chain ball. There was no way out.

At first, I met this new turn of events head on. It was what it was, I said. Having been engaged in it for so long, having been satisfied and complacent with my current placing, I saw no reason to panic really. By taking it in stride, I thought, maybe things would eventually work itself out. Maybe, she would one day finally let me go.

But days became weeks, weeks became months, and months extended and merged into one gigantic mess of declination that no longer had any semblance of time. I was frantically worried now. I had hoped to be released from this an eternity ago. But here I still remain, struggling to keep my head above the surface, lest I finally fall in and never see reality again. I fought with every ounce of strength that I had, determined to not let myself come to such a pathetic end. I would go on.

So she came back around one day, still wearing that damned smirk on her face that I could never get rid of. That freeze frame would forever stay in my memory and haunt me with ever fleeting second of idle thought I had. As she drew nearer and nearer, I could feel my heart threatening to jump out of my chest, ready to explode with fear at this one rebellious act that would most certainly end my rational existence.

And so I acted, with this opportune time being the most opportunistic moment for me. Mustering all that I had within me, I quietly and fearfully whispered, “Be gone from me you wretched wench.”

01.13.09, 10.55-11.30pm

我的心很亂

2009-01-10T02:01:00.000-08:00

Night and Day
Fire and Ice
the two extremes
you've brought to light

at times i think
at times i might
to hold you forever
to forget you now

Asleep and Awake
North and South
polar opposite is it
these thoughts i have

i need you here
in my arms now
i need you gone
out of my head

UCLA and USC
stanford and Cal
there is no grey
its one or the other

you've twisted my heart
so contorted it is
it doesn't even know
what to do with you

Blue and Orange
Red and Green
why can't i choose
between the two

i think, if u were here
i'd hold you forever
keep you with me
i'd be so happy

But it's not true
I don't have you.

01.10.09, 1.52-2.00am

Bewegung

2009-01-01T22:04:00.000-08:00

was soll ich tun, was kann ich machen
es ist noch ein andere Jahr
und ich darf noch nicht tanzen
warten und warten will ich nicht
darum muss ich etwas jetzt schnitz

mein Geduld ist jetzt leer
ich habe genug
du, mit deinem Spiel
hast zu viel meine Zeit benutzt
so mach deine Wahl, sag ich

eine neues Jahr, ein wunderbäre Idee
Freiheit möchte ich, brauche ich
ich weiß, dass es nicht ganz deine Schuld ist
aber jetzt, diese Problem kommt von dir
du und deine Bewegung, oder, keine Bewegung

also, ich wird bald verrückt sein
weil ich die ganze Bild nicht weiß
ich hoffe und bete, ein Schild zu bekommen
von dir, von Gott, von jemand gegen mich
aber ich weiß, mit ohne Zweifel
ich kann nicht zu lang an dich verhalten

01.01.09, 9.45pm - 10.04pm

Certain Uncertainty

2008-12-24T15:51:00.000-08:00

Another cold dark night. Another storm buffets the flimsy walls that threaten to collapse against the next gentle breeze. The conditions of this hovel are insufficient to keep in any warmth. The subfreezing temperatures easily permeate throughout the shoddy dwelling. How any living creature could feasible bear to stay here, let alone survive for a few days is inexplicable.

But here he is. With every exhaled breath, the vapors from his mouth are outlined in a very visible fashion. That is merely one more showing of the paltry amount of heat left within him. As his body violently shivers in a futile attempt to keep warm; his teeth continue to rattle against each other, emitting an ominous sound as if he were shaking down to his very bones.

The howling of the wind remains evident and even seems to increase in pitch. The storm seems to have no ending in sight, bolstered by its infinite stamina and the encouragement it receives from the howl. Like a bully eyeing its toy, preparing to go in for the kill, so too does the storm patiently wait for him to give in. He cannot last much longer against a stronger more experienced foe.

Yet, all is not lost. In a small corner within the wretched void of the dark room remains a single light, a bastion against the pervading darkness. The little white candle proudly stands tall, even in the midst of such adversity. The flame that stands atop the pillar of hope shines its light to all corners of the tiny place. And with the light, a weak but noticeable emission of heat can be felt.

He’s been watching this precarious source of warmth for quite some time now, anxiety plastered all over his face, not knowing when the inevitable should happen: the extinguishing of the flame. He craves it, needs it, depends on it to get him through this despairing time. But all he can be certain about is the uncertain life expectancy remaining for this precious little stalwart of his.

12.24.08, 3.15-3.50pm

Potent Potency

2008-12-11T17:10:00.000-08:00

He walks around the cafeteria, taking the many wondrous smells that reach his olfactory senses. When a smell captures him in a trance, he locks in on the source with his eyes, giving a piercing gaze to see whether or not it is worthy of consumption. This is the daily advent to his dining hall experience.

Today is no different. Once again, his nose is treated to a smorgasbord of amazing scents, each coming from a different direction. He is unable to decide between the sweet tangy flavors of the crisped barbequed mesquite chicken, the savory smells of the hickory prime ribs in the back, or the cheesy heart-attack waiting in the triple cheese pizza, just to name a few. Off in the distance, the many dressing offered by the salad bar call out to him, each with their unique signature taste when topped off on a salad, He mentally salivates just thinking of the many options available to him at the salad bar. The plethora of choices racks his head as a result of the explosion of flavors and tastes offered.

But wait. Off by the baked goods section, right by the desserts, a distinct, unmistakable aroma captures him. It easily rises above all others in the area, its potency unrivaled. Letting his nose lead him to the spring of the scent, he follows this trail with eyes wide shut. Finally, the nose knows enough to bring him right in front of it. Slowly opening his eyes, he is enveloped in a bright sanguine wave of color.

The source of his joy: Red Velvet Cake. The wonderful icing on top of it is decorated ever so delicately with a simple whirl to top it off. Bits and pieces of nuts are sprinkled on top to add even more flavor to the cacophony of wonders present in this little delicious piece of heaven.

With each scoop of the cake, a party rapidly descends upon his tongue. There is no other feeling to properly describe the joy that sweeps him up in a wave of ecstasy. He understands the potential dangers of indulging himself with each successive bite; the fat, the calories, the overbearing amount of death compressed into each delicious portion is too fantastic. But it matters not, for this is his joy, his happiness in this present moment.

It’s his second time partaking of this amazing delicacy. The first time.. well, the first time was quite a wondrous occasion in itself, and this piece of cake, truth be told, isn’t that invigorating. It is merely the past association of which the cake is tied to that so regally entertains him. But that was then. And this is now. But no matter when he is in time, this baked good definitely will always capture his undivided attention.

12.11.08, 4.45pm – 5.05pm.

washed away

2008-11-30T23:12:00.000-08:00

he's wallowing in pain
unable to deal with the flood of emotions
that come pouring through the floodgates
with every movement, every thought
another pin pierces into his heart
each successive one dealing
a thousand times more pain than the previous

he doesn't know what to do
this torrent that threatens to overwhelm him
leaves him petrified with fright
incapable of fighting it head on
minute by minute passes by
there's less and less feeling in him
he'll soon be too numb to realize anything at all

he's reaching the breaking point
the threshold through which there is no returning
this innundation will wash him away
forever lost to human civilization
only your voice, your touch can bring him back
he waits for you, longs to hear you call to him
but until then, he'll just continue to fade to black

11.30.08, 11-11.12pm

void.

2008-11-13T18:02:00.000-08:00

there’s no real way to mold this feeling into
something tangible that one can grasp.
as I sit here in my room thinking about
all that has happened, or rather, what hasn’t,
a black vortex of anger and hate just builds
within to amount to some gigantic proportions.

i’m left in the dark in more than one aspect
and this lack of light only contributes
to the ever growing abyss unseen.
certain information never reaches my ears
or certain people just turn a blind eye
and ignore my presence for days.

your surface actions give off
a demeanor of friendship; I know better.
the subtle traits I detect betray
the kind of person you really are
why I continue to put up with you
is beyond my realm of intelligence.

with my sadness and anger I want
to curl into a fetal position and let
all that the world has to throw at me
hit me as hard as it possibly can.
if the world doesn’t care then
why should I?

11.13.08, 5.55-6.02pm

A Fleeting Moment.

2008-11-10T22:53:00.000-08:00

These are rare days.

He never really knows when the next time he’ll see her is. They live 30 miles apart and never have any intersecting schedules. She has a life of her own to live, and he; his. He’s just chilling as a high school senior and not worrying too much about college applications. She, on the other hand, is still a junior who’s trying to decorate her resume to get into one of the nation’s best colleges.

How they met? They used to play club tennis together. They had a mutual friend, and after they were introduced to each other, they hit it off quite well. They always hung out with each other whenever they had some free time at the club. Then they made time to meet up during the weekends. Every spare moment that they had, they spent it on the phone texting or talking to each other. If not, then they were chatting over AIM. They were inseparable.

Unfortunately for the lovey-dovey couple, the guy never had the guts to ask her to make it official. So their relationship never progressed from the “good friends” stage. Eventually, the flame started to die down because of a lack of fresh air to breathe new life into it. At one point, even the embers could no be rekindled. What was once a bright strong burning fire was now an empty hearth void of any activity.

The one thing the guy was able to do was to steadfastly hold on. Even past the rough times with serrated edges poking out the front, he never gave up. Not to the point that he became obsessively involved with her, but just enough to keep the hearth warm, in case a rekindling was possible.

And as fate would have it, a spark from the past would prove to be the starting point. Once again, their relationship moved past the chilly ice age back into the normal fiery times of once was. Of course, the past could never be completely revisited, but they had as much as they could. They weren’t constantly connected through technology. Their separate parallel lives were unable to intersect at all. That is, except when the stars aligned.

Plans made in advanced tended to fall apart before it could materialize into something tangible. Instead, they could only meet up randomly, with meetings prearranged a few days ahead of time. At other times, their surreptitious meetings were called on the day-of.

It is this Friday night where one of their infrequent clandestine meetings take place. Her school is playing his for homecoming, and since she’s part of the band, she is one of the few selected to travel over. They try and reach each other during a lull in the game; halftime.

At first, they’ve been separated over the years by an immaterial barrier; distance. Now that they’ve finally congregated at the same location, another physical barrier keeps them apart. For reasons unknown, a gate has been erected between the visitor and home side of the field. There’s no way around it. They call each other and express frustration and regret at being so close, yet so far away.

But what’s one little gate to him? He finds a way around it. It’s a long desolate path behind all the action, but he makes the trek. After all, he hasn’t seen her in about two months. This is after they were previously constantly in each other’s company, nearly 24/7. He finally has her.

She rushes up to him and throws her arms around him. It’s been awhile since he last felt her; the embraces of others cannot even compare to what she does to him. Once together, his mind loses all conscious train of thought; he merely relishes in the forbidden moment that’s so hard to come by. Having her in his arms, hearing her sweet voice in person, just having this time means so much to him. The scene fades away; there’s only him and her left in the world. He had planned a whole list of things to say to her, things that he has gone over and over in his head. But all that melted like cotton candy in her presence.

And now their short time is up. The band director calls them all back from their break, and she must return to her post. A final goodbye, one that must last until the next time they meet, and they both go their separate ways again.

His heart still longs for her.

11.10.08, 9.30-10.51pm.

-----

I like the beginning/middle. The end seems to be to drawn out. I thought about splitting it into two separate stories, but got too lazy. So yes, I'm aware the end should probably be a little bit shorter, but w/es.

A Story within the Story.

2008-10-10T02:56:00.000-07:00

So everyone has their own story to tell. Where they’re from, where they are, where they’re going. But it’s not like a book that one can easily open. It takes time to slowly get close and intimate with the person, allowing them to slowly turn the page one by one until they feel close enough to you to reveal their whole life’s work to you.

And sometimes, in the process of this unfolding story, you get overlapping stories. As you learn more and more about a person, you also get some bonus plot lines in the form of their friends, their acquaintances. They too have their stories and adventures. And because no person goes about life without interacting with other people, the story about themselves also includes the stories about others.

I once knew this girl. She loved to talk, and I, being a good person, learned to listen well. She had a million stories to tell; her topics covered the gamut of life. From love and hate to joyfulness and sorrow, I read through her book with a great amount of interest. And sometimes, it would seem as if I missed a few details because, as she retold a story I knew I heard before, there was always something new. This story of hers was dynamic and ever changing.

As I listened, I learned about her friends too. There was this one girl who had issues with relationships. She had a guy friend who strived to attend one of the top schools in the nation. She had another friend who kept backstabbing her no matter what she tried to do. In general, her story is pretty much like the same as anyone else her age. But the difference between her and her stories versus an anonymous person’s similar story is this one little fact: she gave them names.

Overtime, I began to know more and more about each character in her life. The girl with relationship issues seemed to have it on and off again, not knowing how to get away from the addicting poison that seemed to afflict her life. The guy was never perfect enough. Even though she thought he was an amazing genius, she said he belittled himself and was continually harassed by his parents for his infinitesimal shortcomings. The backstabbing friend? She talked bullshit straight to my friend’s face in order to keep up the pretense of a relationship. But with others, words of hurt and hatred would be spread, and these pains would find its way back to my friend. At first, these were merely just names with actions. But they soon had their own character and livelihood and everything necessary to make them seem a tangible part of my life.

Then one day, it all suddenly came to an end. She was out of my life, never to be heard from again. Although that was a tragedy in itself, there was a subplot that was also quite unfortunate. Like a person browsing through random Wikipedia articles, I too was enjoying the link that stemmed from her and led me to know about others. It was as if all those links stopped working and I was unable to continue to read up on other interesting articles. As her book slammed shut on me, so did the books about her friends.

I haven’t been about to find that book since. That book I once read, although quite interesting, has been lost forever. I can never go back to it, not can I ever go back to reading about the others that I had come to know through her. It was almost as if I knew them in person because through my friend, their book was open to me too.

It makes one wonder. What’s his story? How about hers? And as one gets to know the person and their intimate details, other books open up. One can never stop reading because every opened book leads to another, because everyone has their own different unique story.

10.10.08, 2.25-2.58am

Too Late

2008-10-05T01:59:00.000-07:00

The good from the bad
I really can’t discern
It’s all a blur to me
Coagulating into one solid block
Of problems from my past.

I was told it wasn’t smart to play with fire
But I threw myself into the flames anyway
That too much candy was bad for your teeth
But still I munched on until my teeth were no more

That too much caffeine was detrimental to one’s health
And yet I still drank cup after cup of coffee late at night.
That McDonald’s would make you fat
But still I ate on until I bloated into a balloon.

That television series that I couldn’t stop watching
It was just too damn addicting
That game that was so enticing
I always said to myself, just one more.

That pizza, OMG, was just too delicious
I just kept on eating, slice after slice
That beer, just too intoxicating
I couldn’t stop myself from the next can.

And now, here I am, standing outside of the door
Wondering, why couldn’t I stop?
And now it’s too late for me to get help
All my doors of opportunity have closed for good.

10.05.08, 1.30-2.00am

Quivering.

2008-09-27T01:38:00.000-07:00

He’s been at it for a number of days. Day in and day out, it’s the same grueling routine. The weight room is equipped with every single machine thinkable, allowing all the recruits to work out every single muscle possible.

For Private Koh, this was the life he’d been dreaming of. Bulking up and being able to finally have some semblance to the glorified manhood that can only be attained through this fake showing of masculinity was constantly on the forefront of his thoughts.

Private Koh never really acted on his dreams and ambitions in grade school. Sure, his mind was constantly at work, filling his head with wild notions of being immensely ripped and having all the guys gawk as his enormous pects and all the girls swoon over his huge muscles. But when it came to actually getting to that goal, he never did anything. So how he passed the army fitness test was quite an amazement to everyone that knew him. Private Koh never doubted himself though.

As a result of having never really worked out for the past nearly two decades, these past few days have been hell on earth for him. Repeatedly. With each day that went on, his tired body could not keep up with the pace of the strenuous workouts that the daily regiment demanded of him. It was getting harder to merely keep up with the runts of the program. He was getting scared that his hopes and dreams were literally slipping through his fingers because he was too weak.

And so, here he is. They’re working on their fifth set of push-ups, having to do twenty-five to complete each set. For him, it was as easy as pie.. on day one that is. Now, just merely bending his arms to a 90 degree angle and returning to the upright position causes his tired arms to shake in pain. He winces under the pain that the nerves in his arms send to his brain. Any outsider could tell that Private Koh was nearing his breaking point because his entire body was shaking and his face was turning bright red, perhaps brighter than even Jupiter’s red spot.

The sergeant in charge of his company noticed this. In fact, his entire group noticed. Even the weakest link that everyone pointed out on day one was aware of Private Koh’s struggles. Concentrating entirely on successfully completing each repetition of one push-up, he was never aware of the sergeant’s impending approach until there was a shadow cast upon him. So intent was he on finishing that all the words that were spewing forth from his superior’s mouth never made it to Private Koh’s ear. The only way he knew that he was being yelled at was by the cascade of spit that rained from the sky above him. Even if he could hear the verbal abuse being thrown at him, he wouldn’t have paid it any attention.

Deep in his mind, he realized that this was nothing that would be handed to him. He would have to suffer through the pain to perhaps gain any semblance of muscle definition. That was why he was here. The intense and rigorous training that only the army could provide was where he needed to be. Even amongst the simultaneous struggling from him and the spitting and yelling from his sergeant, Private Koh had resolved to see this till the end.

Down. Up. Down. Up. Each action sees him shaking as if there were a magnitude 7.0 earthquake going on underneath him. The redness of his face seems to be a harbinger of an impending explosion of some sorts. But all things aside, Private Koh manages to complete one push-up after another, until finally, another set of twenty-five is complete. Time for some rest before he must return to the hell that is his life.

09.27.08, 1-1.39am

Anguish

2008-07-13T02:27:00.000-07:00

The last remaining Kounai warrior had been fighting for hours now. All his brethren had fallen, and there was no one else to provide him with any support. It was just him.

The enemy came from all sides, all around him. They continued to swarm about him, attempting to suffocate and overpower him with their numbers. The barbarians underestimated the fight left in this one man, for he was able to throw them off and continue coating the earth with their heathen blood.

He fought with all he had because this was his homeland. Every slash and stab against the foreigners, he did for every father, brother, son, and friend of his fellow Kounai. He understood he was fighting a losing battle. He understood that he was outnumbered perhaps a few hundred thousand to one. But the odds didn’t matter. The fact of the matter was, he was fighting for principle.

But one can only endure for so long. After so many hours on the battlefield, after vigilantly defending his homeland against these sickly invaders, he was beginning to tire. It didn’t help that he never had a second to cleanse his katana of his enemies’ blood. Now his blade began to feel heavier with each stroke. His arms began to feel the weight of the world, for everything truly rested on the outcome of his two muscular hands.

With the last few drops of energy within him, he was able to create a perimeter around him of which the countless barbarian troops would not dare enter. Every now and then, one brave and foolish soul would pass into the circumference of his blade, and with a quick whoosh, there was another body drifting among the sea of red.

Unfortunately for him, the enemy started thinking and came at him two, three, four at a time. He, being one man, could not withstand this onslaught forever. With a final prayer, he took another group of men down with him as he finally drifted off to an eternal peace. At least that’s what he hoped for.

He fell unceremoniously to the floor with a big splash, sending up a wave of blood up at his assailants. After for what seemed like an eternity, he contented himself with just lying on the ground, thinking that the victorious heathens would let him die on the battlefield through nature’s whim. He steadied his breath and focused his thoughts on once again joining his friends and family as he departed this cruel wretched world that no longer held anything for him. He was ready.

His attackers had other ideas than to leave the last living Kounai warrior die peacefully. This was the man responsible for so many deaths. This lone character was such a pain in their asses that they refused to let him die a calm and peaceful death. Oh no, he would be subjected to the one of the worst tortures their heathen culture had.

They watched as he slowly steadied his breathing. They allowed him to fall into a false sense of closure before striking. Seeing that his chest finally fell and rose in a relaxed pattern, they brought out the utensils.

One by one, going as slow as they could to inflict as much pain possible, his attackers stuck thin long needles straight into his heart. With each orifice being only millimeters apart, his twisted conquerors relished in his anguished screams that traveled for miles in every direction. Even as the final Kounai warrior was at death’s doorsteps, he would never be allowed to go quietly. For him, in the hands of his worst enemies, he would face a slow torturous death, done just to draw out his pain for the longest period of time possible. This was the cruel and unkind fate that befell the last of the Kounai.

07.13.08, 2.00-2.26am

nothing is solved

2008-06-21T20:35:00.000-07:00

Nothing is solved, nothing is fixed
I'm still sitting here in my own dark abyss
Grasping and groping as I search for a way
to relieve myself from that one wasted day
But try as I might, to move on and forget
Every 2 steps I take is another 3 steps back
And so I'm here, trying to dig myself out of this hole
But with each dig, I'm still stuck with nowhere to go
To relinquish my hold, to finally be free
Is what I need to do for me to be me.

06.02.18 - 10.25-10.35am

sweet poison.

2008-06-02T00:03:00.000-07:00

this needs to stop
this needs to end
i need to get away
from all this that is pretend
it's all my fault
this much is true
i keep falling back
back into you
this is the present
it's not the past
my mind still there
stuck there like a cast
it's a poison to me
with every dose of you
it just hurts more and more
and now i'm just so blue
but the rational and logical
side of me; it says to stop
it's slowly killing me
it's all become such a flop
time to break away
time to be free
time to not wallow again
in my idiotic self pity
that was then
and this is now
i guess there're memories
but now they'll hafta take a bow.

the Barrier

2008-05-13T18:19:00.000-07:00

It’s cold.

The boat capsized some time ago, overturning all her inhabitants onboard the vessel. Everyone was thrust into the cold frigid sea and left to fend for themselves as the Freundschaft was slowly consumed by the waves. All around the unfortunate men were floating crates filled that were also filling with water, ready to be taken by the unforgiving sea.

The waves were thrashing wildly as the storm continued battering on. Random chunks of ice flew through the air, attacking the already downed ship. The poor souls were given no respite from misery as the temperature seemed to suddenly drop below freezing. Like paper dolls, they were flung carelessly about the water, in and out of the air and back into the sea with a great splash. It was as if the fates were toying with them, torturing them for their own twisted pleasure.

In the middle of the madness remained one person. He was one of the unlucky ones. Those who were more fortunate were hit by stray debris or the flying projectiles of ice. His general vicinity was littered with the dead bodies of his fellow crewmates. It seemed as if he were the only one left.

Without notice, he was quickly pulled into the depths of the sea. It was too dark at night and too deep in the sea to cast light on his assailant, so the lone sailor flailed wildly in an attempt to throw it off. The man was miraculously able to reach his pocket knife and, with the little weapon, attack the unknown monster. He could feel the heat radiating off it and himself as they struggled in an intense dance of life and death, knowing that he needed to win this battle to continue living.

But he only gave it a half-hearted attempt. Having seen that none of his fellow crewmates survived, and they were the closest thing to a family that he had, he wondered, what was the purpose in living? One side of him said he didn’t want to go out passively, but the other side asked, was there any light at the end of the tunnel?

It seemed as if the fates weren’t done with him yet. He landed a fatal blow against the beast and was released. He struggled and flailed and did all that he could to reach the surface and get a breath of air. One breath. That’s all that he needed. Just a gasp.

As he neared the surface, he encountered a strange barrier. He tried breaking through, for the whole area was only water. Or so he thought. This impenetrable barrier felt cold. Colder than the water. It was ice.

He had encountered a sheet of ice. This was the last obstacle between him and the freedom to live. With the last ounce of strength within him, he punched at his new nemesis in order to secure his freedom. He fought with the last reservoirs of his adrenaline, knowing that he could be taking his last breath. In the quickness of the dynamic events of this night, he had decided that he would not go without a fight.

Here he was. Fighting. His strength was fleeting. He couldn’t last much longer. But he tried. He tried fighting the cold of the water. He tried fighting the cold of the ice. It was numbing. The feeling of death around him. Near him. Encroaching upon his remaining stamina.

He punched the ice again. And again. And again. But all for naught. The only sign of his actions was a minuscule crack that required a magnifying glass to be seen. And then his sight went black. His skin, blue. And it was cold.

05.13.08, 10.30am. – 12.16pm

Cancerous Growth

2008-05-10T17:56:00.000-07:00

It was early in the morning. He was being rushed quickly into the OR. The doctors didn’t know how long he had had it. His parents thought that it had seemingly come out of nowhere. Everyone was surprised that he, a healthy young adolescent, had fallen into such a precarious situation.

In truth, he knew about it all along. He knew. He felt it coming nearly a year ago. The tumor started growing slowly in the back of his head. At first, he didn’t think too much of it and attributed it to a bump he received sometime ago. But it didn’t go away. As much as he tried, as much as he willed it, the foreign presence continued to linger about inside of him.

He didn’t think it was cancerous. He was a young healthy person; no one at a young age entertains such morbid thoughts. He fought against it and didn’t bother troubling anyone with something so trivial as constant headaches. Yeah, they affected his focus; his grades slipped a little bit, his athleticism dipped a bit, but everyone said it was just a funk he was going through. He’d get over it.

And so he did. It leveled off, to some degree. And all was well. Or so everyone thought.

He kept trying. He continued to fight. It was an internal battle that he refused to let anyone partake in. In truth, no one could help him. It was almost invisible, known only to him. He kept up the good fight, but felt his life slowly leaving him. He knew that he had to get help, but didn’t exactly know how to do that. And so he stayed silent.

Here he is now. Lying there. It’s as if he’s only sleeping. But inside, the alien presence had done its damage. You could tell by his pale and unresponsive form. It had won.

He was too stubborn. Too full of pride. Had he merely said something any point in the past, this could have probably be prevented. There was always a way out for him, but it required him to take the first step. He was too good for it, it seems. And as a result, his arrogance led to his downfall; all that’s left of him is his eternal shadow that he has left upon the life of others.

05.09/10.08, 11.45pm-12.15am

Enticing Euphoria

2008-05-05T17:55:00.000-07:00

This is my own problem. I knew I couldn’t fight it on my own, and that one day it’d consume me, but I just couldn’t let go. My brain said stop, but my heart said no. I kept going on and on until I got caught. And then my world collapsed.

I was introduced to this new adventure by a friend of mine. He said it was exhilarating and that I would enjoy it immensely. He showed me the ropes of how to live a smart and fun life instead of a hard and dull one. After this instruction, I clung to this new development in me. It was something new I’ve never experienced. My first time was like a feeling of great euphoria that I never wanted to end. It was like a drug that I could never get off of. It was just simply amazing.

He had mastered the art a long time ago, for he had been doing this for years. He targets something of medium worth, glances around to make sure no employees or cameras are around, and then quietly stuffs the merchandise into his inner pocket. He seemed so at ease and unworried as he strode out of the store, never betraying his actions. It was deceptively simple.

I was invited to give it a shot. He suggested I start off with something small, something to merely get my feet wet. At first I was hesitant; wasn’t all this illegal? He broke into laughter, and between his gasps for air, he managed to sputter out, My god… no… If you get caught… they just… make you… pay for it… No harm done. When he regained his composure, he gave me an inviting smile.

I really didn’t think much of it. If he said that was the only consequence, then there’s no harm done right? And that was only if you got caught. He had never been caught, and because of that, I falsely had a sense of superiority, that the system was too incompetent to be able to catch me. After my first run, I totally enraptured by the feeling of ecstasy that came with the successful action. My reward for that trip was the bag of sweets that I was able to leave with. What a deliciously sweet feeling.

It didn’t take me long to learn how to walk, and before long, I was running at full speed. Everywhere I looked, the retail price was just a joke to me. Besides it being something I would never pay full price for, I just saw it as another challenge for me to tackle. I was on a gigantic win streak, and nothing could go wrong. Week after week, day after day, every store I went into would probably have some trouble doing inventory that night. Is it my fault that the world we live in is a capitalist society that takes advantage of its consumers? I’m just trying to level the playing field while immensely enjoying myself.

I’ll never forget the day all this ended. The culprit? Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Looking back on hindsight, I still don’t have a clue as to how it happened. It seemed like any other perfect day for action. I knew what I had to do and I knew how to do it. The added bonus of the largest book release in years only added another layer of security to my fool-proof plan. At least I thought it was fool-proof.

There were hundreds of people walking in and out of the bookstore, all jostling to get their hands on the newest and soon-to-be New York Times’ bestseller. I blended in and mingled with the crowd, pretending to share their obsessive enthusiasm for the behemoth of a novel. I picked up a copy and simply made my way towards the exit. No sensors went off and I thought I was home free. Another successful job.

Hey, excuse me sir, would you mind coming with me? The voice came from behind me, apparently out of nowhere. I turned around and all I saw was black. Black, the color of his suit. Black, the color of my future. The security guard led me to an office and proceeded to interrogate me. He wanted to know where my receipt was. Of course I didn’t have it. So I tried saying I merely forgot to pay for the book and would return to the store to do so right now. He wouldn’t let me.

Long story short, I had to pay full price for the book (book release price was nearly 50% cheaper), I had to pay a fee for shoplifting, and I was also banned for a year from the bookstore and the surrounding stores in the vicinity. My friend said the punishment for getting caught was so lenient that it wouldn’t bother me at all. So much for that.

During those long twelve months, I was constantly struggling to find some new sort of entertainment, something to help pass the time. The first few months were tough. I kept falling into withdrawal, and this feeling of regression constantly detracted me from my main objective focus. I was just so attached to it, I just didn’t know how to let go. As the days went by, time helped ease me off this addiction. Eventually, I stopped worrying or thinking about my kleptomania and was able to just be me again.

But then my ban was lifted and I was allowed back. And I guess, the adrenaline from the hunt never truly left my blood. Soon enough, I fell back into my wretched ways, and here I am again, deeply attached to this euphoric feeling that I never wish would leave me. I know I need to get out, because the next time I run into trouble, the consequences might be so much more dire…

05.05.08, 5.00-6.25pm

[Author’s note]: This is merely a fictional story with the “addiction of stealing” serving as symbolism for something else. I do not condone thievery in any situation, but this concept was the best fit for the purpose I wish it to serve.

Masked Truths, Divulged Lies

2008-04-28T19:37:00.000-07:00

I won’t ask you why cuz you’ll just tell me a lie
Spinning indecision with a lack of precision
Which allows me to see the truth that is to be;
And with a loud sigh my heart starts to cry
For your manipulation has caused my degradation.
So now I’m a mere entity surviving thru subsistency
Whose inner being is no longer breathing
Because the void within was who I would’ve been.
But that ship has sailed and so has this tale
With the result being I am much harder at hearing
I can trust only myself and what lingers on my shelf;
They have no other souls to share their wicked goals
And this concrete abstraction satisfies my inhibitions
From divulging too much and not causing a fuss.

04.28.08, 7.30-7.38pm

"one special girl"

2008-04-14T23:27:00.000-07:00

so im sitting here, just a little depressed
cuz my thoughts are a maelstrom
knowing you're still here, present in my life
yet you're not the same cuz things have changed
you're no longer that "one special girl"
who was always there for me
who gave me all her attention
as i gave all my attention to her
you no longer say those three magical words
that make a person filled to the brim
with a wonderful feeling that is indescribable
it gave me such joy when i heard you say
"i love you" and i knew that you meant it too
i'd say it right back, cuz you know i loved you too
you wanted, needed, pined, and yearned for me
with every passing moment of the day
every moment that we had, we clung onto it
only choosing to let go, knowing
every second we're away from each other
is a second closer to when we'll meet again
i miss that feeling; both the feeling of love
and just feeling you in my arms
why can't it be true
why can't i have you
once again, safely in my arms
all to myself, with nobody else
to compete with for your affections
you're still in my life, oh very much so
but you're just no longer my "one special girl"

04.14.08, 11.20 - 11.27pm

pure crude unaltered words [freestyle] that attempt to convey my current emotions. siigh.

the Woods

2008-03-05T17:54:00.000-08:00

So I went to talk a walk one day, just for the heck of it, because I felt that some fresh air would do my body good. And of course, scientists have proven that point too, so I figured, they couldn’t be wrong. There I was, merely ambling along, minding my own business, enjoying the sights and sounds that surrounded me on my little sojourn around the woods.

The forest is a fascinating place, and because I was so entranced by its majesty, I soon lost my path. The trees in this area weren’t like the friendly green giants that seemed peaceful and inviting. Instead, these characters seemed to have faces that were forever frozen in the act of letting out a horrible moan. Their arms crawled along each others branches, grasping for anything they could grab hold of. Even the day seemed to change drastically just to set the mood; no longer was it bright and sunny; even with the emptiness of branches, no sunlight seeped into this wretched area.

I’ll admit. I was lost. Guys usually don’t do that type of thing. I mean, we’re always supposed to know where we’re going, what we’re doing, and all that. But truthfully, I can own up to my limitations and honestly say that I had no clue as to where I was. Well, yeah, I was still in the forest where all the trees and woodland creatures live, but I did not recognize this part of the woods at all. I ended up wandering for like, I’m not sure, maybe thirty days or so. Thirty days of darkness, of being in unfamiliar territory as I was forced to soldier on and brave through these unfriendly waters.

It wasn’t an easy time for me. I mean, I pride myself on knowing what’s happening, where I’m going, what’s going on around me, and never getting caught off guard. But I never saw it coming. And then it hit me. I couldn’t just sit down and make camp and wait for something to bail me out of this no man’s land. No. That thought never crossed my mind. I’m a guy for crying out loud. I had to get out of this one all by myself. No matter what it took. I knew that I had the toughness to just deal with the situation at hand. I mean, armed with my two bare hands, I was more than well equipped to deal with the harsh realities of nature, of being out by myself without any provisions. I’m kidding.

I struggled. By the time I got out of that void, I was definitely not the same person as I was when I entered it. The things I’ve seen, the experiences that I’ve had to go through; I can’t explicate it again for your reading enjoyment. I’m sorry. It was just too dark of a time for me to recall. I’m sure you understand.

Thankfully, yes, I was able to escape the horror that afflicted me. I was able to get back to where I had left off, not too long ago. Except, something just didn’t seem right.

For you see, I was never able to find my way back. Once I entered the abyss, it seemed to lead me to a whole ‘nother area. I don’t know why the Fates decided to be such bitches and play with my life, but here I was again, in a situation so very similar to my previous one. Déjà vu anyone? But yeah. My life was definitely not going well. And I just can’t take another month in this kind of hell. I’m serious, I can’t tell you what happened to me, but just know, I would really like to never have to go through that experience, ever, again.

But here I am. Stuck. Again.

03.05.08, 11.30-11.47pm

Stagnation

2008-02-27T17:53:00.000-08:00

Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter.

He sits in his desk, absentmindedly listening to the soft calming touch of the rain as it kisses the rooftops. They fall from the gray skies above, where the faint outline of the clouds melts into the shapeless skies. The shade from the cover of the formless blobs in the firmaments colors the world a dull monochromatic color. For the droplets that manage to fall unimpeded onto the ground, they crash onto the earth and start to congregate together, slowly but surely, creating large puddles of oceans that sporadically dot the ground. The wind whistles and howls, dramatically altering the path of these projectiles that fly from the sky. It directs them towards the windows and creates a cascade that distorts his view from inside the classroom. The streams of water that flow from the window cover every square inch of area, creating a dynamic wall that constantly changes shape. Its malleable form prevents him from getting a clear view of the freedom that awaits him.

It’s not that he doesn’t like being in class. He does, really. It’s just that the subject matter is of no interest to him. It’s the same routine, day in, day out. Wake up, head to class, sit and review last night’s homework, listen to a lecture about the new topic, get assigned homework, go home, complete the assignment, and repeat. It’s all become trite after so many years of schooling. They never bother to try and make class interesting, never bother to try and engage the students in any classroom activity. It’s as if they love listening to their supposedly melodious voice that is really an annoying monotone of drabble which lacks any substance at all. And they wonder why kids these days are so bored out of their minds.

She starts writing tonight’s assignment on the board. He automatically, robotically even, begins to mimic her movements, transposing the white-chalked text on the blackboard onto his white piece of paper. He rarely thinks about these actions; they just occur after four years of being in the same classroom with the same teacher. It makes no difference. So long as everything is done to both her and his satisfaction, everyone’s happy.

And that’s the end of her instructional period. She’s finished early, again. The class erupts into a cacophony of noise, every little group breaking out into their scattered discussions about life’s pointless issues. An occasional scream breaks out from somewhere, which corner of the class, he can’t be too sure. He doesn’t bother listening into the myriad of baseless topics they indulge themselves in. Instead, he stares off into the distance, just, pondering. His pencil adds a little rhythm to his thoughts. Tip. Tap. Tip. Tap. Every thing else seems to fade into the background as the beat consumes his wandering mind. There’s simply nothing better to do at school. They expect him to learn? Fat chance. If this is learning, then no wonder everyone else has a better educated population than us. But that’s besides the point.

The annoying brrr-ing of the bell breaks him out of his reverie. All the students begin to rustle and bustle their way out of the classroom, shuffling their feet like drones onto their next location. With heads facing down, they mechanically put one foot in front of the other, having already memorized this daily routine of life, trusting their recollections to lead them to their next proper place of instruction. Even with the gloom of the rain, they proceed, not taking notice of the water beating upon their backs, slowly soaking all their articles of clothing. It makes no difference to them. As robotic beings, they are nearly devoid of any feeling or emotion.

He’s almost always the last one out of the building. There’s no point to being first, for who truly desires to get situated again for nearly an hour, repeating the same process in six to seven classrooms every day. Besides, even if he is late, it’s not like he’s missing anything important. And with that attitude, he, like everyone else, puts one foot in front of the other, trusting it to mindlessly guide him to his next destination.

Upon entering the hallway, his wet slippery feet make contact with the wet slippery tiled surface. As they touch, an annoying squeak squeak sound is heard. Almost no friction is to be seen between his shoes and the inundated floor. The water dripping from his hair, his backpack, his jacket, and everyone else’s collect to form a small puddle inside the building. No one cares. They just want to get to their next classroom, to sit down, to slowly watch the time dwindle down to the end of the day.

He turns the corner. Or rather, his feet turn the corner, and the rest of his body struggles to catch up to the robotic actions of this two limbs. Unlike everyone else, however, he doesn’t walk with his head down. Not for this passing period. His eyes scan the mindless crowd of zombies, searching for one figure that is always constantly full of life. Ah, there she is.

There she is, usually walking with a friend or two. There she is, talking animatedly, laughing and chattering and having a ball of a time, even within the wretched confines of a school campus. Even on this melancholy day, there seems to be a certain aura around her that brightens up anything and anyone around her within a certain radius. She is the only character he knows of that can add color to the moribund followings of life.

They’ve never met. Nor does it seem likely that they’ll ever meet. Sometimes their eyes catch each other and seem to have a hold on each other for a second. Two if they’re lucky. His sad brown eyes scream to her, give me something more to live for! Her vibrant blue eyes sparkle with brilliancy, wanting to welcome him with open arms. But that would mean they would have to break the flow of traffic. That would mean they would have to break out of the ordinary routine and attempt to try something new. The very notion, he scoffed, was laughable.

And so, they move on. She, as a bright beacon of light to the destitute, shall go on, leaving that poor wretched soul untouched. He, the tortured soul that feels no compelling reason for motivation, shall continue in his programmed steps of redundancy.

The skies seem to open up their floodgates even more, allowing even more of the cold wetness to blanket the sad earth. Both parties weep at the loss of chance, the failed opportunity that both he and she have decided to pass up. More formless shapes move in, hindering the path of the dazzling sunlight even more. The chromatic scheme of the earth seems to fall down another notch.

He doesn’t notice. Soaking and dripping of wetness, he trudges into his next classroom, ready to repeat the lifeless motions that he’s converted into an unbreakable habit. He sits down in the same place where he was yesterday, takes out his pencil and begins mulling over random thoughts again. Tip. Tap. Tip. Tap. The bell rings. Class begins.

The droplets from the sky continue to fall down upon the rooftops. It continues its soft pitter-patter with every collision that takes place. The windows still provide a distorted view into the outside world resulting from the overwhelming flow of water. The wind continues to whistle and howl, stripping any and every shrubbery of its foliage. The flying debris collects at the entrance of the drains. The flowing water gathers, unable to continue its course to the outlets. It stagnates.

02.27.08, 7.45-8.40pm

[edit] 03.14.08 - Mr. Hoague gave this an accolade. Swt. xD

the darkness of Night

2008-02-10T22:09:00.000-08:00

All clad in black
I meander the city streets.
The darkness of Night
Absorbs me into her fold.

A sense of unrest,
A feeling of unfeeling
Has lead me to this place
Tucked within the catacombs.

My fingers lose their grasp;
No longer can I hold on.
The claws of the abyss
Draw me into the unknown.

The moon stays hidden tonight;
The deepest depths give me shelter.
No light guides my path;
I've no sense of direction.

So lost have I become
Uncertain of where I'm going.
I return to my retreat
Where I embrace the nothingness.

02.10.08, 10.00 - 10.15pm

an Ultimatum

2008-01-30T21:19:00.000-08:00

an Ultimatum has been issued
a line drawn in the sand;
the time’s nearly up
a decision must be made:
to linger in the past,
or to capture the present?
to be frozen in time,
or carpe diem?
this choice is not an easy one;
it rips me to shreds inside.
but my future dictates that
the link must severed
to ensure the success of what’s to come.
no more shall it dwell in my thoughts,
no longer shall it captivate my attention,
I am free to do what must be done.
and with that, I look beyond
never once turning back
to be sucked once again into the void.

straight forward prose.

01.30.08, 9.13 - 9.16 pm

Trapped.

2008-01-20T18:17:00.000-08:00

There's this one little feeling that's for'ver here;
I keep asking myself what does it mean.
S'it something to me that is really dear?
The truth within it is still yet unseen.

Whatever I do, wherever I am,
My troubled mind mulls on many wild thoughts.
Too many ruminations break my dam
This torrent that floods me cannot be stopped.

To escape this labyrinth I mustn't trip
Delving through the maze I push on ahead.
With perseverance will I transcend it,
By determination I lightly tread.

Ultimately, its walls I can't break free,
Forever, the sun's light, I'll never see.

01.20.08, 5.45 - 6.25pm.

(An English Sonnet written in Iambic Pentameter. Or so I think.)

the Dance

2008-01-13T20:51:00.000-08:00

This dance that I’ve chosen to partake in
Is perhaps a bit too strenuous for me
With so many intricate steps and off-beat counts
I can hardly keep up with the madness
My feet are getting bruised and twisted
As if my shoes were ten times too big
My vision is getting clouded
As I fall into a state of vertigo
I’m sorry that I’m not the best complement
Or even a competent one at that
The tempo of the music is just too much
I’m tripping in its idiosyncrasies
A troll I’ve become on this wretched dance floor
A fool I am for braving it through
I believe this has gone on for far too long
Before the situation deteriorates any further
I must make my way to the exit and depart
Thank you for this great experience
I will treasure it like no other.

01.13.08, 8.30-8.42pm

Chapter 1

2008-01-03T17:52:00.000-08:00

It was a cool summer day. The sun was shining brightly overhead, inviting everyone to spend their leisure time outdoors. Without a cloud in sight, the day just screamed to be taken advantage of. That’s exactly what everyone did. All the kids were out and about, riding their bicycles, playing with their pets, and tossing a million balls around. Their parents sat contently under the shade, enjoying a small breeze every now and then. Even the grumpy moody teenagers were out in force, with the guys playing a few pick-up games of basketball and the girls happily watching the half-naked players go at each other. The whole neighborhood was enjoying this wonderful summer day. That is, except for one inhabitant of number 13 Rosethorn Drive.

There, in his small room with a myriad of things scattered about, lived one Cameron Earlson. Because he attended a boarding school that was in another county, it was pretty difficult for him to fit in amongst the throngs of joyfulness being shared by all on the streets. So he felt much more safe and comfortable in the darkness of his room, away from the others with whom he rarely had any contact with. He wasn’t bothered by his solitude.

It happens every year. Every September, his parents would drive him out to Dakuth Understudy of Cresting Adolescents, and there he would stay for the entire school year. At first, he resented being sent away from his childhood friends, friends that bonded together during elementary school. His first year there, when he was only a young child of ten years old, was a time of great transition. No longer could he just sit in homeroom and listen to his teacher babble all day long about various boring subjects. At Dakuth, he had to actually move about the grounds and search for his classroom locations. But there, he met his partner in crime.

Aidan Messelworth is Cameron’s best friend. Ever since they met in First Year, they’ve been inseparable at Dakuth. They clicked so well because their thoughts were nearly exactly the same. Cameron could finish Aidan’s thoughts and vice versa. It was this seemingly telepathic connection that landed them in detention on a weekly basis because they were always coming up with some ingenious prank. These experiences helped to form the tight brotherhood they shared now.

“Where the heck did I place my phone!?” wondered Cameron. “I gotta call Aidan up and plan something to kill my boredom. Maybe we can go drag racing later tonight on A19.”

After rummaging throughout his pigsty of a room for about twenty minutes, Cameron exclaimed, “Thank you! I finally found the damned thing.” He picked up his phone, a brand new, top of the line, Sony Ericsson k850 5.0 megapixel camera phone with walkman capability, and speed-dialed Aidan. “Hey man, being back at home is killing me. There’s nothing to do in this boring place. You free tonight?”

“Dude, I’m sorry. My aunt’s birthday is coming up, and we’re heading out of town to treat her to dinner. I’m probably not gonna be back for a week or so…” said Aidan regretfully.

“Damnit,” exclaimed Cameron. “Guess I’m stuck with the locals or whatever for seven freaking days. You have fun with your aunt’s thing then. I’ll catch ya later I suppose.”

“Sorry man. Good luck with that, and we can trash the town when I get back,” replied Aidan.

“Sounds good to me. See you then.”

“So Aidan isn’t in any shape to bail me out,” Cameron thought to himself. “Guess I gotta find some way to kill time on my own then. But there’s never anything to do in this damned town! Ugh, whatever. I’ll deal with it.”

Cameron changed into more suitable clothing for a romp on the town and headed out to the local plaza. After wandering about for nearly five hours, his stomach finally spoke up and guided him to Tony’s Pizzeria. After getting his pizza and soda, he took a seat at the bar and started to watch the random boring news on the television. As the reporter droned on about the day’s happenings, the inhabitant of the seat next to him continually turned and looked at him, shook her head, and returned to her meal. Cameron, after enduring this for ten minutes, finally got fed up with this nonsense.

“Yes. How may I help you?” he asked, somewhat annoyed.

“I’m sorry,” responded a very flustered girl. “It’s just that, you look awfully like someone I go to the same school with. We used to be friends a few years ago, but circumstances came about, and we really haven’t talked since.”

“Hmm. What was his name?” Cameron egged on.

“Nah, you can’t be him. I think. Maybe?” said the girl mostly to herself. “His name’s Cameron, but I don’t think he’d ever show up at this place…”

“Oh my god. That’s me! Why wouldn’t you think I’d show up here? And who’re you? You go to Dakuth too? How come I haven’t seen you around much either?” demanded Cameron.

“Whoa, slow down there. Too many questions. And you can’t even recognize your First Year classroom buddy? Ouch! Cameron, how could you?” teased the still unknown girl.

“Honestly, I don’t have a clue as to who you are. I rarely come up around this area cuz I’m usually stuck at home doing nothing. But enough of that. Back to the original mystery at hand. Who’re you?” asked Cameron again.

“Cameron. It’s me. Daphne.”

-----

“Ugh, why are there so many different wings!? The 100 wing, the 200 wing, the 300 wing… the list goes on forever!” complained Cameron to himself.

“I know, seriously,” said a random voice next to Cameron. “I left lunch like 15 minutes early just to give myself enough time to try and find my next class.”

Spinning around, Cameron noticed the owner of the voice was a cute girl with long black hair that cascaded down her back. “So I take it you’re new here too huh? Where’re you headed?”

“Science. Room 127. And yeah, it’s my first year here,” said the girl.

“Hey, guess what? I’m looking for that class too! Maybe we could help each other out,” suggested Cameron.

“Sure! I’d love that! I’m Daphne by the way.”

-----

“Daphne!? Daphne Melvina, the girl who helped me find our first science class together?” exclaimed Cameron.

“Yeah, that’s me. And I can’t believe it’s you! How’ve you been? How come we rarely cross paths anymore at Dakuth?” It was Daphne’s turn to barrel out questions.

“I’ve been good, getting along, surviving, you know,” responded Cameron. “You look pretty good yourself,” he continued.

“Haha, thanks. It’s been a really long time, hasn’t it?” remarked Daphne.

And so, the two teenagers started to kick it up, talking the night away over their now-cold pizza and watered down soda. Their cups had condensed so much that a puddle formed at the bottom of both of their drinks. They talked about the previous five years, their classes, their friends, their families, and life in general. They rambled on about their futures, where they planned to go for college, their careers, where they hoped to end up one day. They dabbled here and there in current events, about who was the latest celebrity to pull another stupid stunt, how awesome or horrible the latest movie was, and the latest episode that rocked the entire nation. They were so caught up with each other and in each other that they didn’t even notice that it was ten minutes past closing time, meaning that it was now 11.10pm.

“Ahem,” interrupted a waiter. “You two do realize that we’re now closed, right?”

“Omigosh! We’ve been talking for that long!? I’m sorry Cam, but I really gotta go, or else my dad’s gonna kill me. Crap!” Daphne sputtered out as she rushed to get going. “I’ll call you in the morning, alright? Maybe we can have breakfast or something.”

“Wait!” shouted Cameron. “You don’t have my number! And I don’t have yours!”

“Don’t worry about it.” Daphne said calmly. “My dad has Dakuth’s student directory. I’ll find yours. I’ll talk to you later then. Taxi!” Daphne quickly hugged Cameron goodbye and jumped into the cab.

“Goodnight,” whispered Cameron as the Taxi sped away into the night.

the Path

2007-11-19T17:51:00.000-08:00

As I began to take a step on this new path, I immediately noticed something was different. This trail was something I had never embarked upon before. The dirt was smooth and flat, with all the boulders lining up the sides of the path. The vines that struggled to reach out were corralled by the boulders, forming a safe passageway for me away from their clawing fingers. Not a single flower was dead or wilting, and each one exuded a brilliant glow from its center. This brilliance illuminated the area and showed the beauty of the path ahead. With the trees gently calling me, I started upon this walkway, believing in the safety that it seemed to so blatantly promise me. Not a shred of danger could be lurking within the pristine scene that lay before my eyes. I would be safe, and all would be well.

And so I began my journey into uncharted waters. Of course, I never felt threatened at all. The path was laid out right before my eyes, there were no forks in the road, and nothing was hindering my walk. I had nothing to fear, not even fear itself. I took in the sights of the delicate flowers and drank in the rich color they offered. Their pungent fragrances added even more vision to my brilliant world and I imbibed their grace. The trees offered wonderful shade from the menacing sun that tried to glare through the leaves and their branches. Nothing could harm me. I wondered why I had never sojourned on this path before.

Suddenly, the illusion was gone. The shade that was so generously provided to seem seemed to immediately pull back, fully exposing me to the wretched blazing sun. The rocks lining up the path so perfectly were in fact all over the place, just waiting for me to trip on them. The vines were not restrained at all; they were actually all over the path and they had managed to grasp my ankles and subject me to their poisonous substances. In truth, the path itself seemed to have never existed. All around me was just a desolate jungle of shrubbery that extended as far as the eye could see, and then some. My legs were bloodied up, which allowed the noxious excrements from the plants to enter my system. My next step caused me to stumble and fall, breaking my bones into a million pieces in the process. I was stuck with absolutely no where to go, no sense of direction, and no sense of hope whatsoever.

And this is where I presently am. There is poison running through my body, and it slowly eats away at my health with each passing moment. I have no strength to continue walking, and even if I did, I’d have nowhere to go. And so, I rest. I try to mentally expel the residue from my body, which will magically cause it to physically remove itself. How, I don’t know. My shattered remains will somehow recompose themselves into proper limbs and provide me the strength to move on with my walk. Even though I’ve reached an ultimate low by being deceived onto this horrid course, I can perhaps take away the lessons learned from it. If I survive that long to make use of the knowledge gained through this hell.

11.19.07, 9.55 - 10.20pm

why bother

2007-11-18T22:26:00.000-08:00

i'm feeling rather misanthropic today
a feeling that leaves me quite alone
i push everyone nearby away
so that i've more space on my own
i haven't a clue as to what i do
so long as it just feels right
i'm tired of deception and lies
and being used by so many of you
i'm annoyed by so many things
that you would've never dreamed of
i can't stand the asinine fools
who corrupt my mind day by day
i wonder, why bother with such trivial people
or even, why bother with anything at all?

11.16.07, 12.05 - 12.15pm

to you2

2007-11-14T02:39:00.000-08:00

the crisp spring air
the gentle cool breeze
the refreshing mountain blast
shakes even the knees

all bundled up in layers
of down and cotton sweaters
provides warm support
against the piercing cold

a body, sitting all alone
waits for the early sun to rise
in the midst of the chilly fog
enduring the subzero temperatures

and so the magnificent orange ascends
thru the stinging numbness of blue
the only missing piece
of this glorious advent
would be the wonder that is you.

11.14.07, 2.25 - 2.38am

to you.

2007-11-12T01:18:00.000-08:00

cuz i need you to want me
but it doesn't seem true.
you say that you're trying
yet it leaves me so blue,
and on nights like these
when its chilly outside,
all i can say is that
your words seem too trite.

cuz honestly, i yearn for you
for only you does my heart ache.
i said it isn't so, that i've moved on,
but when i think of you, still do i shake.
i miss you so much; i'm so consumed;
i beg of you, just speak to me again..
please don't let our love grow cold
i miss you so much, my cherished friend..

11.12.07, 1.00 - 1.15am

I need..

2007-10-29T18:20:00.000-07:00

i need to cry
but the reservoir's empty
i need to shout
but nothing escapes me

i need to breathe
but there's no suitable air
i need to see
but my eyes just haven't a care

i need to bleed
but no crimson can be found
i need to be freed
but i'm leashed like a hound

i need to move on
but i'm stuck in the past
i need to leave
but it's too hard of a task

to who i am, i must stay true
even though i feel all too blue

10.29.07, 5.37 - 6.20pm

A Desperate Plea

2007-10-29T17:04:00.000-07:00

my body is weary
my soul is tired
my heart,
completely engulfed in fire.

i watch the scene
before me unfold
and think to myself
this story's been told.

the participants,
they willingly follow
the path they once took
it leads straight to the hallow

and as for me
standing outside,
what am i doing
why do i hide?

cuz there's nothing i can do,
nothing i can say
i guess, i must let
them on their merry way

on a final note
i'd caution them, beware!
but its none of my business
they probably don't care.

-10.29.07, 4.57 - 5.03pm

Happy Birthday Mom

2007-10-26T23:35:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday Mom; you're another year older,
But I believe that only makes you better.
I thank God for every day
In which you have shown me the way
To grow up as an honest person
And to give heed to voices of reason.
Thank you for taking care of me
Through all the times and my every need.
You are one amazing mother,
I would never have any other
Because I know, this much is true:
Happy Birthday Mom; I love you.

-10.26.07, 10.25-10.35am

Clouding Light

2007-10-26T23:34:00.000-07:00

Clouds cover up the early morning sun
The whole world slowly turns to gray.
All the light is sucked out of life
It looks like another bad day.

The birds cease their joyous chirping
And slowly begin a mournful song.
It seems as if the earth is crying
As her waters blanket the land.

Lost in the growing sea of sadness
Are the ubiquitous once-paved paths.
The mud has covered up their existence
Leaving man stranded with only his persistence.

And so with the darkness surrounding
The man must now make a choice
He has unlimited possibilities
in his search to reclaim his Light.

-10.22.07, 1.30-1.55pm.

Long Love Lost

2007-10-26T23:24:00.000-07:00

I need to get this off my chest
Cuz you told me I wouldn't be like the rest.
You said I was someone unique
That your love for me would never peak.
All of my time I gave to you
As you made me believe your love was true.
You woke me at ungodly times
Just to let me know you were fine.
We kept saying we were only friends
And thus this friendship wouldn't end.
Yet you loved to be in my arms
Where which I'd protect you from any harm.
With all the time we spent together
Now you say we can't talk to each other.
How does a friendship come to an end
When our relationship didn't even begin?

-10.25.07, 8.53-9.05am

Enduring

2007-10-11T17:44:00.000-07:00

The ever-present clashing of the swords seemed to inundate him in the sounds of war. Everywhere around him, his fellow warriors fiercely fought these invading heathens from the north. The Kounai Warriors refused to give up their homeland without a tough fight.

These invading barbarians; they were so different, yet almost the same. Their skin was just a shade darker than those of the natives. Their eyes were just a shade darker than the people of the land. The decorations etched onto their armor mirrored those of the Kounai. In the glint of the sunlight, it was nearly impossible to discern whether the adversary was friend or foe. It was gruesome.

D’suke was drenched in blood. He had answered the Battle Cry of the Horn nearly three suns ago. Asides from the momentary lulls in the heat of battle, he had been littering the field with enemy bodies with every spare breath within him. His katana, which once shined brightly in the gleam of day, now dripped with a thick red gelatinous substance that was the blood of hundreds of those that once lived. His dark unruly hair also dripped the vile liquid that flooded the once green field. He himself had contributed to the repainting of the field, for he had his fair share of cuts sustained from his nonstop combat.

As he surveyed what was left of the battle, he was barely able to tell his fellow Kounai apart from those that desired what did not belong to them. But he could take it no longer. The strain on his body was much too great, and he began to slowly sink down and feel the fatigue gnawing his whole body. He grasped his left arm, having received a fresh new cut as a present from his enemy just before D'suke banished him from this earth. But now, he had lost too much blood and was fleeting. This last fight was against a most worthy opponent, as each traded slashes upon each others body until finally the vandal became the first to fall. It was D’suke’s most hard earned victory yet.

Light slowly crawled through the immobile clouds. It illuminated the hundreds of corpses scattered about on the field. He felt a great pain as he saw how many Kounai had fallen. This was not how it should be. The invaders were not supposed to be able to inflict such heavy losses upon the superior Kounai. But they had. And now the proud warriors were severely decimated in numbers. Fellow brothers and fathers would never walk again.

Kneeling on the blood-soaked grass, D’suke felt the ground give a soft shake. It gradually grew from the quite tremble into a loud roar. The weakened warrior fell from his kneeling stance onto the floor, unable to support himself against the quake of the earth. As he looked up, the sight that lay before him was the least desirable thing he could imagine. The invaders had seemed to be able to muster another whole contingent of recruits, free from any weariness that accompanies the battle.

The Kounai were tired. They were exhausted and fatigued. They longed for rest and shelter and to be clean of the disgusting red coating of blood that clung to their heavy armor. Their bodies had also been engaged in war for three sun-ups and sun-downs, and to continue would be on the same level as throwing their lives away to the enemy. To repel another attack with what men were left was just not an option. The Kounai would have to surrender. There was no other choice but to.

Seeing defeat rampant in the eyes of his friends, D’suke was able to draw upon the depths of his spirit and bring about new life to his soul. He could not allow the wanton destruction of his land to occur while he still lived. He could never allow himself to be subject to a foreigner. This was the Kounai home, and he would not let any other take residence upon this land so long as there remained a Kounai to defend it.

And so D’suke turned towards the advancing horde, ready to face whatever may come at him. Regardless of the situation, regardless of the outcome, he would pour his whole self, body and soul, into the task at hand. If he couldn’t stand the heat of the fight that had been brought to him, then perhaps he deserved to be burned in the Eternal-Fires-of-Those-Who-Are-Most-Unworthy.

With his sanguine katana raised, with his fatigued body drawing on the last remaining reserves of whatever was left, with every last ounce of strength he could rally, D’suke, not caring whether or not anyone followed, rushed to meet the new enemy and give them a proper Kounai welcome.

-10.11.07, 10.30 - 11.15pm.

Erosion

2007-10-10T09:07:00.000-07:00

The boulder
It is hard
and impenetrable.
It gives way
to no creature.

The stone
It is stoic
and indifferent.
It rarely betrays
any emotion.

The geode
It is rough
and deceitful.
Its demeanor
differs from its guise.

The pebble
It is fickle
and oscillating.
Its allegiance
depends on the circumstance.

The sand grains
They are tiny
and infinitesimal.
They fall and
cannot be retrieved.

The fine powder
It is soft
and precious.
The wind scatters
it forever.

It is gone.

-09.26.07, 10.00-10.26am.