that being a quarter century old
would help me
endure the mental torture
and the emotional turmoil
of figuring out how to minimise
the blow
of breaking another person's heart.
29/11/12 2pm
Showing posts with label 61-70. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 61-70. Show all posts
70: blow job
To think
that being a quarter century old
would help me
endure the mental torture
and the emotional turmoil
of figuring out how to minimise
the blow
of breaking another person's heart.
that being a quarter century old
would help me
endure the mental torture
and the emotional turmoil
of figuring out how to minimise
the blow
of breaking another person's heart.
69: School blues
rewind ten years back
around this time of the year
and you will find
a student in her teens, and
fast forward 10 years
back to this time of the year
and you will find
a teacher teaching teens, and
both are in denial
of the fact
that school starts
in
one
week.
68: like them
why must i
respect people who could straight up lie
worry what everyone thinks until i want to cry
be forced to be a busybody when i hate to pry
work like an adult but be treated like a child
wear what they wear because it's in style
pretend i'm a tree, powerless and docile
listen to views that are far from fertile
have expensive taste and be in denial?
why must i
be sly
without making a sigh
and without feeling vile?
and why must i
do all this to beguile
and without asking why
like them?
67: the sole battle
at the end of the day
these rows of lustrous lots
these groups of vague vendors
these lines of scripted sentences
are operating
like an oasis
in the middle of nowhere;
offering
promises
to care less;
promises
that are careless.
because
as you get closer,
you would soon realise
your eyes wildly looking around to soak in the vision of what you are able to (par)take,
your mouth salivates with the thought of how that sparkling pond water would taste,
your fingers would carelessly reach out to touch, feel, things you have longed for.
all to satisfy
your natural instincts
your worldly desires
your own foolishness.
and yet, you make a run for it.
you run like your life depended on it.
does it?
does our life depend on whether we reach this oasis,
despite knowing that
we are still
lost
and
alone
in a desert?
perhaps we have lost sight of
or lost track of
or have completely removed ourselves of the thought that
there is
an untouched-as-yet lake
up in the virgin mountains
just waiting
for us
to have a swim.
may we all win the battle
against ourselves
when we face a mirage
in the comforting disguise
of an oasis.
may we all reach that lake.
ameen.
why are we killing each other
and ourselves
in a race
to reach an oasis
that is only a mirage?
these rows of lustrous lots
these groups of vague vendors
these lines of scripted sentences
are operating
like an oasis
in the middle of nowhere;
offering
promises
to care less;
promises
that are careless.
because
as you get closer,
you would soon realise
your eyes wildly looking around to soak in the vision of what you are able to (par)take,
your mouth salivates with the thought of how that sparkling pond water would taste,
your fingers would carelessly reach out to touch, feel, things you have longed for.
all to satisfy
your natural instincts
your worldly desires
your own foolishness.
and yet, you make a run for it.
you run like your life depended on it.
does it?
does our life depend on whether we reach this oasis,
despite knowing that
we are still
lost
and
alone
in a desert?
perhaps we have lost sight of
or lost track of
or have completely removed ourselves of the thought that
there is
an untouched-as-yet lake
up in the virgin mountains
just waiting
for us
to have a swim.
may we all win the battle
against ourselves
when we face a mirage
in the comforting disguise
of an oasis.
may we all reach that lake.
ameen.
why are we killing each other
and ourselves
in a race
to reach an oasis
that is only a mirage?
66: Mallicious.
i hate walking around aimlessly
i hate wanting without understanding why
i hate trying to find out why i feel so out of place
i hate seeing rows of shops like deja vu on every floor
i hate salespeople with fake smiles and sugarcoated words
i hate being manipulated by people who only care about making profit
i hate hating myself for spending on myself in order to make others feel happy
i hate the sights sounds tastes smells of plastic dreams i'm supposed to be drowning in
i hate seeing people pride themselves with things by the oppressed's blood, sweat and tears;
malls are malicious,
and these are just a few reasons why.
63: Where the heart is
a few of our paintings in this corner
a flower in a mug right over there
a bunch of pebbles on the kitchen table
sand and shells in a bottle somewhere
a black and white sculpture on the table
a lot of sunshine, with light in tight spots
a psychadellic rug to brighten up the area
some fans around in case it gets too hot
a disco ball in the middle of the fun room
a few places for books i love but barely read
a mismatched set of rainbowy kitchen things
mini garden at the back (no clue yet on what seeds)
a bed as if i'm sleeping on chocolate clouds
a colorful bunch of essentials for the bathroom
a few stained glass bowls with candles inside
space to geek out - where minds go boom.
a wall of pictures for the people in our life
a fridge of stuff homegrown or homemade
items in each room that remind us of Him
if all this came true, i know i'd have it made.
a few choice paintings in this corner
a flower in a mug right over there
a bunch of pebbles on the kitchen table
sand and shells in a bottle somewhere
a black and white sculpture on the table
a diy standing lamp in a tight spot
a psychadellic rug to brighten up the area
some fans around in case it gets too hot
a disco ball in the middle of the fun room
a few shelves for books i love but barely read
a whole set of rainbowy kitchen things
mini garden at the back (no clue yet on what seeds)
a bed with sheets as if i'm sleeping on clouds
a colorful set of essentials for the bathroom
a few stained glass bowls for candles inside
space to geek out - where minds go boom.
a wall of pictures for the people in my life
a fridge of stuff homegrown or homemade
items in each room that remind me of Him
if all this came true, i know i'd have it made.
a flower in a mug right over there
a bunch of pebbles on the kitchen table
sand and shells in a bottle somewhere
a black and white sculpture on the table
a lot of sunshine, with light in tight spots
a psychadellic rug to brighten up the area
some fans around in case it gets too hot
a disco ball in the middle of the fun room
a few places for books i love but barely read
a mismatched set of rainbowy kitchen things
mini garden at the back (no clue yet on what seeds)
a bed as if i'm sleeping on chocolate clouds
a colorful bunch of essentials for the bathroom
a few stained glass bowls with candles inside
space to geek out - where minds go boom.
a wall of pictures for the people in our life
a fridge of stuff homegrown or homemade
items in each room that remind us of Him
if all this came true, i know i'd have it made.
62: All about the dosh
money can buy you a wholesome feast
but not an appetite
money can pay for your under the table degree
but not an ounce of respect
money can get you something to warm your bed
but not to warm your heart
money can afford you flashy cars at the speed of light
but not satisfy the need for speed
money can score people who will blindly take your side
but not true loyalty
money can win over unquestioning voters
but not unquestionable critics
money can land you a lot of luxuries in life
but not a sense of security
money can make your world go round,
but not everyone's.
not everyone's.
but not an appetite
money can pay for your under the table degree
but not an ounce of respect
money can get you something to warm your bed
but not to warm your heart
money can afford you flashy cars at the speed of light
but not satisfy the need for speed
money can score people who will blindly take your side
but not true loyalty
money can win over unquestioning voters
but not unquestionable critics
money can land you a lot of luxuries in life
but not a sense of security
money can make your world go round,
but not everyone's.
not everyone's.
63: shield spun of silk
in these past 20 plus years,
i have been transferring
from one cocoon to another;
it's to keep me away from the dangers outside
they kept telling me.
these shields will protect me
by tightly wrapping my wings
so close to my body --
don't mind the lack of room, you say
don't worry about not being able to stretch or breathe --it's better to be safe
than to make mistakes, okay?
not okay.
i am claustrophobic
and i have been in here for far too long.
and yet, while i am tempted to break free,
another fear grows:
what if i tear down the wall around me
and i come to find
that my wings are broken
and i cannot fly away after all?
2017-05-29 9.35am
originally: 2012-12-10
in these past 20 plus years,
i have been transferring
from one cocoon
to another.
these fragile shields
will keep you away
from the dangers outside,
is what they kept
telling me.
these will keep you in
and wrap
your limbs
and
your wings
so close to your body that there's
barely any room
to stretch; there's
barely any room
to even breathe.
or to make mistakes.
but i have been in here
for far too long,
i am tempted to break free,
but
irreversible;
what if,
what if,
i tear down the wall around me
but i come to find
that my wings cannot fly?
tempting me
t
the life i could feel
from the real world outside of this cocoon
has tempted me to tear open
this delicate layer
dedicated to hold me
and my wings
as close as possible.
but now that i have been released from my shelter
i wish i could go back inside
i don't want to face the outside world anymore.
it's not that
i have been transferring
from one cocoon to another;
it's to keep me away from the dangers outside
they kept telling me.
these shields will protect me
by tightly wrapping my wings
so close to my body --
don't mind the lack of room, you say
don't worry about not being able to stretch or breathe --it's better to be safe
than to make mistakes, okay?
not okay.
i am claustrophobic
and i have been in here for far too long.
and yet, while i am tempted to break free,
another fear grows:
what if i tear down the wall around me
and i come to find
that my wings are broken
and i cannot fly away after all?
2017-05-29 9.35am
originally: 2012-12-10
61: Some and Others (draft)
when reality seems too hard to take
and fantasy is too easy to make,
there are plenty of ways
to run away:
some stick needles in their flesh,
some need their fix oftoxic gases,
some just want to be left alone,
some won't stop swiping for dresses,
some stuff their faces like there's no tomorrow
some simply drink to forget
some like scarring their birthday suit
some live only for their pets
some treat roads as if then own them
some just never stop crying
some beat up others to feel better
some just cannot stop lying
some hang onto people they hate
some just cannot commit
some are in their own little world
some always need another hit
some keep trying to take their own lives
some are afraid to leave their room
some suddenly stop talking completely
some keep preparing for the ultimate doom
some start talking with inanimate things
some keep staring into space
some sniff powdered flakes
some keep failing to find a place
to call their own.
because if where we belong is where our heart is,
then some of us just don't feel like we have a home.
but others keep fighting on,
and many continue to pray
for better days and for better pays,
for sincere 'okays' and heartfelt 'heys';
because there's no reason not to, they say,
cuz things will inevitably go your way
if you chin up and keep your frown at bay;
you'll see the light too, someday.
2012-12-12 3.46am
if where we belong is where our heart is,
then some of us don't really have a home.
but
there are those who fight on anyway
and many others continue to pray:
for better days,
for better pays,
to have winters less grey,
to work less, more play.
there's no reason, they say,
to throw your life away;
things will inevitably go your way.
everything will be okay
if you chin up and keep your frown at bay,
you'll see the light too, someday.
and fantasy is too easy to make,
there are plenty of ways
to run away:
some stick needles in their flesh,
some need their fix of
some just want to be left alone,
some won't stop swiping for dresses,
some stuff their faces like there's no tomorrow
some simply drink to forget
some like scarring their birthday suit
some live only for their pets
some treat roads as if then own them
some just never stop crying
some beat up others to feel better
some just cannot stop lying
some hang onto people they hate
some just cannot commit
some are in their own little world
some always need another hit
some keep trying to take their own lives
some are afraid to leave their room
some suddenly stop talking completely
some keep preparing for the ultimate doom
some start talking with inanimate things
some keep staring into space
some sniff powdered flakes
some keep failing to find a place
to call their own.
because if where we belong is where our heart is,
then some of us just don't feel like we have a home.
but others keep fighting on,
and many continue to pray
for better days and for better pays,
for sincere 'okays' and heartfelt 'heys';
because there's no reason not to, they say,
cuz things will inevitably go your way
if you chin up and keep your frown at bay;
you'll see the light too, someday.
2012-12-12 3.46am
if where we belong is where our heart is,
then some of us don't really have a home.
but
there are those who fight on anyway
and many others continue to pray:
for better days,
for better pays,
to have winters less grey,
to work less, more play.
there's no reason, they say,
to throw your life away;
things will inevitably go your way.
everything will be okay
if you chin up and keep your frown at bay,
you'll see the light too, someday.
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