God Help Me

Wow. Nice things keep happening to me. Lost my phone. Yeap. Lost it. I knew this week was bad but wtf am i right? Argh. I am so high, I can hear heaven. So high… on grief and pain. Now I’m stuck with a Samsung. Damn you Samsung phone. Damn your small screen and tiny keys. Damn your cute appearance and your annoying beeps. Damn your ultra limited memory and most of all, damn ME for losing something so DAMN BIG in the first place (Thats Actually The Worst Part About This Whole Crappy Situation). Its excusable to lose the most tiniest, thinnest, lightest, almost invisibleish phone. But not one that looks like it could swallow your head. Too bad eh. Congrats to the lucky bastard who stole it. You Lucky Bastard. I hope s/hes the kind of person with some kind of brain defect. One look at the pr0n in the phone and itll trigger a major stroke. Wish you hadnt stolen my pr0n ridden phone now eh?(the pr0ns not my doing btw. pervy hands of pervy people with pr0n ridden phones can do amazing things. Thanks Bluetooth!) My Samsungs clean. So it just doesnt feel the same….

• OMG PSYCH THAT WAS AN AWESOME RANT!!!
• I KNOW RIGHT!!!!
• OMG I WANNA BE WITH YOU SO BAD!!!!
• I KNOW RIGHT!!!!
• OMG YOU ROCK MY WORLD!!!!!!
• I KNOW RIGHT!!!!
• I LOVE YOU!!!!!!
• I KNOW RIGHT!!! I LOVE YOU TOO!!!!
• OMG PSYCH LETS GO TO HOLLAND AND GET MARRIED!!!!
• lets… not.

On to the good stuff. The cool convo above was included solely for the purpose of making my post take up most of the page. If it still doesn’t then I could just delete everyone else’s posts right? No? Ok.

I was on the train minding my own business when I spotted an empty seat. Took it without thinking twice. Was trying to get away from a weird Indian guy who was feeling me with his eyes (for lack of a better phrase. Seriously I think thats what girls complain about when they tell you that there’s a guy staring at them. I almost felt his probing eyes undress me slowly. Exaggeration? Probably. Didnt confront him cos it coulve been all in my mind. =) But we all know the truth right?) Ahem. Anyway I was just sitting there, looking forlorn(I think) when a voice beside me said, “You’re Jon right?”. Lo and ZOMGG- Malay Girl Who Looks Kinda Familiar Looking Right At Me. Managed to get to know that she was my Standard 2/3/4 something classmate. God everything came back in that second. She seemed cool about meeting in the train. We exchanged pleasantries. But through all that, there was one thing in my mind… Her stealing my pen. The memory of her stealing it, denying it, making excuses, calling me a liar, me calling her a thief, her crying… all etched in my mind like some kind of movie. A movie that kept repeating itself as I talked to her about college, where she went after Standard 6. The usual crap. My blood was boiling by the time we were done talking. Very childish right? Well if you thought that youre absolutely right. Unresolved issues can be a butch. It might not even be that. I might just have a weird grudge holding complex. First time so far as I can tell. But those unresolved issues from your past might just come back and haunt you sometime soon. Well it probably wont but it might. Instead of a pen. It could be something important. Like your dignity? Think about it.

Power to the Masses,

Death to all Teddy-Bears.

Have A Kickass Weekend.

pSyCh

Masterpiece

Masterpiece 

White lights flicker on a black canvas,
Blue strokes glide across it,
Glossy green dabs and brown lines
of different shades articulate,
give definition to the piece.
Abraded across the surface
a rainbow infinitely stretched,
with care and precision,
every detail in place.

The senses tingle as hands
run across carressing
with reckless abandonment
and passion.The night
God’s art
so much thought He had put in, maybe;
that’s why lovers embrace the night with giggles and sighs.

This Stone

This Stone
The blue vapour infinitely high,
stretched across without boundaries,
friend of the luminous flames,
lend your warmth to this stone.
The pitch black blanket the substitute,
ally of the sphere of pure white,
bring the dark and cold to this stone.
This stone shall face it with courage.

To this stone,
The wall of waves come crashing,
force of countless armies,
shatter this stone,
the shower of rain,
the howling of wind,
bring your battle song,
wage war on this stone.
This stone shall face it with courage.

To this stone,
it shall endeavour
each encounter.

To this stone,
Mould this stone,
to a uniqueness of one,
refine this stone,
to an experience of none.

To this stone,
Let this stone,
age to dust.
For this stone,
let its memory,
scatter in the sands.

A Wintery Day

A Wintery Day 

I lie here in bed,
awake,
but still asleep,
unmoving,unmoving,
I lay still in bed,
staring at a clock
that blinked “88:88″,
counting the seconds
of the cold wintery day.
Take me… away…

The white blanket
of snow no longer
held the innocence
I once knew,
there was a time,
when I loved the snow,
when snow angels,
snow men,
and even snow fortresses,
were carved out of
the depth of the imagination.
In the pure whiteness of the
soft cold snow,
was a World, Our world,
Our hope, Our faith, Our dreams
and Our love. 

Now it was there
to erase everything
I once had. The blanket of snow…
when did you turn black?

It fogged up the window,
where I once had written
messages of hope and faith,
It covered the streets,
where I once had walked on,
in finding my dreams,
It sealed the door,
where I once had gone through,
to see people I loved.

That was on a cold wintery day.
Take me… away…    

 

I’ve been thinking…

I know. Me thinking? Very unlinke me, but pfffbt shut the fuck up, otherwise I can’t hear myself think. Things have been going up and down lately and I’ve (notice how the world revolves around me, fag. I, me , I me, NO YOU.) been feeling pretty disconnected with the world lately. I don’t know why really. Mmmm shall I BLAME it on the world for the circumstances which do not allow me to be more in touch with the people around me? Or shall I be constructive, not lay blame and think about do something constructive to overcome this whatever thing… I think I’ll choose the former. Makes things easier that way don’t you think so non-existent readers? Mmmm, I don’t know but I think I like it better when I know that no one is reading about my thoughts or whatever. It feels liberating, being able to just let everything loose and be a different person at the keyboard shielded by the anonymity of the internet.

In An Ideal World 

In an ideal world,
should one not feel safe, warm,
and constantly loved,
like a baby being suckled
by its mother?
Yet if every single day,
in our lives,
when dissapointment ,
constantly plagues us,
if it is a blanket of darkness,
which keeps us cold,
as we sleep at night
are we not distant from
an ideal world?
When terror rains upon
this dry earth,
when tears spill,
damping the souls,
leaving them out in the cold,
does that not mean
something is wrong?
But when you stop,
and listen well,
and hear the laughter of little children,
the whispers of lovers,
the tears of joy of parents,
does that not bring hope?
Maybe something isn’t so wrong
after all?

Hmm signing the fuck off. :) Have a nice day.