convenience

why love someone out of convenience? why love someone out of ease instead of an all consuming, blood-curdling passion? why love someone only to grapple with fleering looks? why pick a person dressed in piteous chambray over an orrery of dreams and impossible fascinations? why vomit rehearsed conversations of loving pity when you could emanate all anathema indubitably born out of a desperate sense of longing for the other being? not just the physical body you wrangle with your bare hands but that soul, a surreal suspended fermata of everything you ever yearned for and pined after, an overflowing fountain of endless belief and meaning, ever sinuous, ever anfractuous, the monad of, you.

random rant

Pathetic and sad how we're not taught anything worth anything in school. Doesnt matter how long you're "educated" or what institution you're "educated" in, you're put through the system either way. I know that real education is a privilege not an obligation or a birth right, but how much of this "education" isn't about force-feeding information down children's throats? The last time I checked, education was about realizing and respecting each individual's potential through exposure to knowledge, not hard-jamming of personally irrelevant but socially-perceived "important" information into people's brains. It's an open secret that the "education" that we are put through is just a 12 year guide book invisibly named "How to survive the system 101 (for dummies)". Don't get me wrong, I am thankful for my academic knowledge (or else I wouldn't even be able to type this) but this is just my opinion on the rigid system with a euphemistic name. Instead of learning relevant skills, emotions, scenarios or ideas, we are forced to memorize information in chunks and then responsible for regurgitating them on paper. A walk through any school before an examination would be greeted with desperate cries of "Oh shit I can't remember anything" "I'm just going to wing it" "I'm going to fail" or the likes(many of which are accompanied by a chain of expletives). We're "taught" to "remember this, (even though it might be completely irrelevant to your life) this is important because it's going to be tested" and after the major exam we find out that we haven't learnt anything worth anything at all. This "education" we speak of is nothing but a process of moving from a cage to another cage, where we seemingly "promote" and should we fail to memorize and engage in word vomit adequately, we're subjected to the dreaded fate of "retaining" where you stay in the previous cage and watch every other bird fly to the next cage as you live with the label of "retainee" (or the other fancy names that some institutions have given it in the most pathetic attempt to make them feel better about themselves). This "education" has created these labels along with separating institutions according to academic merit (ITE, polytechnics, JCs) that have magically become the benchmarks for intelligence and intellect. Filtering. That's what they call this process. Just a fancy name to differentiate the bad apples from the good. Since when did academic success/being book smart (aka being able to memorize and take a good long figurative crap on paper) determine good apples? Also, I get really puzzled when I hear the terms "neighborhood school" or ITE or polytechnic being used as a derogatory stereotype to describe a collective that is not the socially-accepted "book-smart". I know tons of people who are from these "neighborhood schools" or ITE or polytechnics that know so much more about what really matters in this world than just contents in lecture notes and I think they deserve so much more respect than they're getting right now. I was not from a "neighborhood school" but I'm not book smart at all, and I'm hardly achieving much academic success, and the little voice in my head goes "or maybe that's because I'm stupid" (see what I mean?). I also get very frustrated when I hear people say "Arts students have no future" because it simply isn't true. This is precisely what I mean when I say that "education" has created this false ideal of a "future" that has made every one of us products of society who are servants to this ideal. What if I don't want a big house or a stable job? What if I'm happy dropping out of school at 13 and being a painter on the street? Who, besides the individual himself, really has the right to decide or judge what/how the individual learns and in what kind of institution? This is an endless argument but this is just a random rant so I'm just going to conclude with the thought that what schools don't teach you is how to be street-smart, how to survive the "real world" fraught with intricacies or fundamental human emotions or values such as empathy. I feel that the "education" system should focus more on realizing the deep-seated passions of each individual learner by equipping them with the material they need, and create a generation which is not only truly happy but healthy too, instead of just creating carbon copies of uninterested and overworked students with too much on their plates who are trained to recite each word of every dog-eared lecture book. 

used to think that people who contemplated suicide were stupid. now I understand.

S.F

There is no simple or easy way to explain how much I love you. I try so hard but all I end up doing is crying. I love you for all the reason I can think of.
I love you without reason. I love you the most any given person can love another. But it feels like more. In a sea of faces, you’re all I see. I don't think I will ever feel a more aching, all-consuming love for anyone at all. Not now, not never. Our love was like a carnival in it's early days: knots in our tummies, raced hearts, sweaty palms, giggles, measured conversations, awkward silences, held breaths.

And then we mourned in the middle where we thought the passion was lost.

But then we came back to each other. We realized the passion wasn't lost. I realized the passion wasn't lost or gone or forsaken by either of us.

It only became quieter, softer and calmer now. It had seeped into our bloods, creeped into our bones, crawled into every inch of our every vein. It became a part of who I was and who you were. We became a part of us.

I love you selflessly, selfishly. I love you unconditionally and for all time. I’ve memorized you but it's still not enough. You'll always be the one to destroy me, shred me to pieces. push/push/push me further and further towards the edge. You'll always be the one to save me, pull/pull/pull me in, where I am home and I am safe. You have taught me so many magnificent things, and above all, you've shown me that I am worthy of your love and you are more than worthy of mine. You numb me yet you're the only one that shakes my core thus.

You are my only constant. xx

to you

I'm sorry I walked out on you before. I will never forgive myself even if you forgive me which you won't ever and I don't expect you to. I'm sorry I walked out on you because when I walked out on you I walked out on myself too. I know it doesn't mean anything that I came back and maybe you don't even care about me anymore but I want to be here now. I want to be here until we finish what we started. I admit I was stupid for leaving you and for leaving us behind and I admit I'm being stupid now by coming back and thinking you'll forgive me for letting you face everything alone for so long but I'm sorry. I'm really fucking sorry and all I want to do is hold you and tell you that I'm sorry until you tell me that everything is alright again. I don't think that will ever happen though, I read your blog all the time and not once have I not cried reading it. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry 

disgusting

how am I supposed to tell you? how am I supposed to tell you that I miss you all the time? how am I supposed to tell you that every single second we spend apart I want to run? run to your house and knock and knock and knock on your door only to have no one answer it? how am I supposed to tell you that when you're not here I feel like I can't breathe? how am I supposed to tell you that when you're not here I feel like I'm choking and my organs and bones are aching and my lungs are bursting? how am I supposed to tell you that without you there I can't eat I can't sleep I can't think straight? how am I supposed to tell you that when you're not with me I feel like I can't do anything and I feel like I am not loved? how am I supposed to tell you that when you are gone I just sit there helpless and hopeless? how am I supposed to tell you that when you are gone all I do is wait for you to come back? how am I supposed to tell you that without you I feel worthless and ugly and useless and pathetic and disgusting? how am I supposed to tell you that when you are here I feel safe and comfortable? how am I supposed to tell you that when you are here I want to cry? cry because I know you will be gone soon? how am I supposed to tell you that when you're near I want to die right there and then so I don't have to watch you leave? how am I supposed to tell you that when you are here I am home and I don't feel alone anymore? I can't find the right words so here is a chunk of sappy adolescent bullshit I managed to vomit out of my system to tell you that I really do fucking love you and I will wait here for you even though I feel like death and I miss you even when you're here and I don't know what to do with myself.

xx

what I learnt in Bangkok

- corruption is prevalent

- Khao san is the best place 

- you cannot afford the Buddha

- drug use is meant to be free

-  cigarettes are packaged prettily 

- live your life the way you want it

- traffic lights take long

- you can take a bus without flagging it

- be nice to everyone you meet

xx

Things are sweeter when they're lost. I know― because once I wanted something and got it. It was the only thing I ever wanted badly, and when I got it it turned to dust in my hands.”

― F.Scott Fitzgerald, The Beautiful and the Damned

monochrome

we speak a kind of arcane language a sort of semantic geometry in which the shortest distance between two points is a circle/ it is blood that moves the body, words are not meant to stir the air only/ they are capable of moving greater things/ i remember what it's like to be in love before any of love's complexities or realities or disturbances have entered to dilute it's splendor and challenge it's perfection/ rather than a universe of neatly reciprocating pairs, love and love returned/ fluttering through space and time symmetrically like pairs of butterfly wings. instead we get chains of yearning which sprawl and meander and culminate in an infinite number of dead ends/ what is the point of being everywhere but seeing nothing. are these places no more to us than a collection of dog-eared maps in retrospect?/ memory becomes a partner i nurture it hold it, dance with it./ we will lead our own lives but be a constant in each other's/ monochromatic colors of greyscale, is that not what we all are?

xx

hideout

just wna be in fetal position forever until I expire. do humans expire like food? do we rot from the inside out or from the outside in? been feeling very unsettled and jumpy these past few weeks. not sure why. it's like an itch deep in my bones. I just can't pinpoint what exactly is making me feel this way. I don't know. I don't know. why can't I talk to people. why do I want to curl up in a ball peel off all my skin scratch my eyelids till they bleed cut up all my hair pluck out all my nails and take apart every part of my body every single time I open my mouth to try to talk to someone. I will go to bed now.

xx

sign me up Santa Fe

I don't understand why the worst things happen to the best people. I don't understand why the best things happen to the worst people. the best way out is always through.I don't understand why the worst things happen to the best people. I am weak. I don't understand why the worst things happen to the best people. I am tired. I don't understand why the worst things happen to the best people. every single day is just spent counting down and catching up. what if we lived backwards? what if we lived every event backwards? like we live the end of an event before the beginning, and make the end the beginning? like we knew what was going to happen because we've lived it before. would we still live it then? I don't think I'm making sense. I don't understand why the worst things happen to the best people.

xx

Marching Bands Of Manhattan

If I could open my arms

And span the length of the isle of Manhattan,

I'd bring it to where you are

Making a lake of the East River and Hudson

If I could open my mouth

Wide enough for a marching band to march out

They would make your name sing

And bend through alleys and bounce off all the buildings.

I wish we could open our eyes

To see in all directions at the same time

Oh what a beautiful view

If you were never aware of what was around you

And it is true what you said

That I live like a hermit in my own head

But when the sun shines again

I'll pull the curtains and blinds to let the light in.

Sorrow drips into your heart through a pinhole

Just like a faucet that leaks and there is comfort in the sound

But while you debate half empty or half full

It slowly rises, your love is gonna drown [4x]

Your love is gonna drown [4x]

Your love is gonna...

-

I'm never going to be loved. children don't play with damaged toys. 

sleep alone

Know

My only goal is to see

When I'm only fast asleep

It takes more than strength to find

This peace of mind

So I'll hold, hold, hold

Hold it close to my heart

Beating with every step

Hold, hold, hold it close

He sleeps alone

He needs no army where he's headed

'Cause he knows

That they're just ghosts

And they can't hurt him

If he can't see them, oh

And I may go

To places I have never been to

Just to find

The deepest desires in my mind

We, we only know what we see

'Cause we're always fast asleep

Is it so hard not to believe

That we'll never know?

Oh hold, hold, hold

Hold me close

I've never been this far from home

Hold, hold, hold me close

He sleeps alone

He needs no army where he's headed

'Cause he knows

That they're just ghosts

And they can't hurt him

If he can't see them, oh

And I may go

To places I have never been to

Just to find

The deepest desires in my mind

It's in my head

And I have said

That I must be like him now

He sleeps alone

He sleeps alone

And one last chance

To make sense

Of what has long escaped us

He sleeps alone

I sleep alone

He sleeps alone

He needs no army where he's headed

'Cause he knows

That they're just ghosts

And they can't hurt him

If he can't see them, oh

And I don't know

If in the morning I will be here

And if so

Let it be known

That I was worthy

I was worthy

I was worthy

I was

j j jaded

I'M NOT MOODY I'M MOOD-LESS WHEN WILL PEOPLE GET IT. everyone needs to leave me alone. I guess this whole being alone thing is working out just fine. outdoor PE. I need to focus. I need to ignore everything around me and f o c u s. jack of all trades. I need to take away all distractions. not going for SHM anymore. master of none. remove myself from every single equation out there. have faith in me. I like the weather. I hope it never stops raining. I do want to take a hot shower though. great dinner and conversation with izzat. intellectually stimulating. It's comforting. comforting to know that two people can share a conversation or just sit in silence and still understand each other. very motivated now. really want to do well for myself and for the few people who have faith in me. have faith in me. I don't have faith in me. can't let everyone down like I always do. script editing with bryson after school tmrw. I am very hungry. I am very tired. zzz

xx

x

isolation?

never ever felt so alone. I'm starting to bleed solitude. I can feel detachment seep through my pores and loneliness course through my veins slowly but surely towards my godforsaken heart. I find myself peering into, looking, searching, rummaging my desolate soul in a desperate attempt to dig up something, anything, only to find blackholes. too many blackholes I cannot count them. putrid, rotten, sour, decomposed, rancid, stale, decaying, festering. I feel like a wound that's left out in the open for too long. flies are starting to gather. maggots. did you know that bush flies remain joined together for 80 minutes when mating? pretty amazing. I don't know what else to do except to keep running. maybe this is for the better and there are better things in store for me. I need to drown. 

xx

INFJ

same difference

maybe it's because you've never had to fight for anything in your life. people like you don't understand why people like me feel so strongly for certain things. maybe it's because you've never had to fight for anything in your life. there are 722 miles of subway tracks in New York City. Abraham Lincoln died at age 56.  maybe it's because you've never had to fight for anything in your life. we are more than different. we are not the same because we are different. we are different because we are the same. we are similar because we are different. we are same in different ways. we are different in the same ways. we are same. we are different. maybe it's because you've never had to fight for anything in your life.

xx

careless love // camera obscura

Honey, I've been really struggling to think of you
And I being friends.

I blow hot and cold, I'm like a yo-yo
So I don't think I should see you again

Careless love and acting tough
It wasn't my style I had enough
I don't think that we can really be friends

Honey I've been really struggling to think of you
And I and all the mess
You're often bought and sold
The love you gave ebb and flows
So I don't think I should see you again.

Careless love and acting tough
It wasn't my style, I had enough
Oh I don't think that we can really be friends
But I'll try again

The love I feel for you is real
The love I feel for you is real

Honey, I've been really struggling
To see this thing through to the end.
Careless love and acting tough
It wasn't my style I had enough
Oh I don't think that we can really be friends.

But I'll try again.

no sense nonsense

great day with qi and che today. still sick. crazy weather. couldn't believe I just went on and on about my thoughts to che. got drenched outside coffeebean. didn't mind. my verbalized thoughts are so jarring. lovely company. I need to remember that nobody gives two fucks about what I have to say. I love it when it rains. think I drowned her with my nonsense. I feel bad now. went to see a doctor in the morning and motherfucker thought I was insane. when I open my mouth to speak it scares me how scarred I sound. there's just something about a thunderstorm that gets to me. my words are so vulgar. he prescribed me anti-depressants and anti-anxiety pills. maybe it's because there are boundless thunderstorms inside me. my speech is so coarse, so offensive. I think the doctor's insane. not alot of things stir me like thunderstorms do. ate my favourite noodles. drank my favourite drink.  no wonder no one listens. craving for a donut. my thoughts scare me. I scare me. 

xx

thun·der·storm

 [thuhn-der-stawrm] 

noun

a transient storm of lightning and thunder, usually with rain andgusty winds, sometimes with hail or snow, produced bycumulonimbus clouds.

Also called electrical storm.

Origin: 
1645–55; thunder + storm

thun·der

 [thuhn-der] 

noun

1.

a loud, explosive, resounding noise produced by the explosive expansion of air heated by a lightning discharge.

storm

 [stawrm] 

noun

1.

a disturbance of the normal condition of the atmosphere,manifesting itself by winds of unusual force or direction, often accompanied by rain, snow, hail, thunder, and lightning, orflying sand or dust.

2.

a heavy fall of rain, snow, or hail, or a violent outbreak of thunder and lightning, unaccompanied by strong winds.

3.

Also called violent storm. Meteorology . a wind of 64–72 miles per hour (29–32 m/sec).

light·ning

 [lahyt-ning] noun

noun

1.

a brilliant electric spark discharge in the atmosphere, occurringwithin a thundercloud, between clouds, or between a cloud and the ground.

穷到怕

I will get there soon and when I do, all of you will regret it. few more days left till school starts. sick. not good to be sick. all the humiliation I've been put through makes me scared, sick even. I'm afraid and I don't want to go back where I came from. I'm sick. few more months to go. 

xx

A casual stroll through the lunatic asylum shows that faith does not prove anything.
 - Friedrich Nietzsche

2013