Impact

Spiked raging fetuses for
never aging serene gore.
Fetid forecast of thorny floor;
rapid shrieks, cheered forlorn four.
Mightiest freak, smiled so sore;
and gore, more piles of gore;
so gorgeous, gore?

There is nothing to be ashamed of,
all are things to be famed of.
Berated for speaking the unspoken;
as the unspoken are words so broken.
Scars on your heart, false yet woven;
humans' treacherous minds are unwoven.
You've lied, you've hated, you're mistaken;
you sin and people sin, sins are unshaken.

Pride.
It is everything to be ashamed of.

Death by Irony

Surrender to the curse of a forbidden word;
render the verse sullen of being slurred.
Slender spirit tested the first of the third;
gender used to being disgraced, I've heard.
Forever never feared to hear such words,
yet right here, near me, I've heard a herd.

Feverishly marooned by a soul I'd love;
a believer so soon, coming from above.
Shackles are lies, a heart-tormenting lie!
Tackled in the eye, a wretched deny;
why couldn't I cry without a sigh?
A sigh I've had, neither lies nor goodbyes;
but being cornered, battered till I died
by a sly guy, by she who has tried.

Transitions.

I'll start off with a warning though. This post will most likely make absolutely zero sense, but trust me, it's real.

Most of the time, I try to live a normal life.

Not always. (Okay this is just stupid.)

I don't experience this often, but there are times when I felt that I've drifted into a dreamlike state, in real life.

Schizophrenia? PTSD? Nah, my mind is just some very haphazard, irregular, morphed fantasy.

There may not be many people out there who remember their dreams, or even give a shit about them, but I do. In fact, this weird imagination of mine plays a significant role in my life.

Yes, I'm a dream person. I love dreams, I also like to "fix" my nightmares into happy dreams, which explains why I seldom have nightmares. I love lucid dreaming (happens very rarely though), and sleep paralysis used to frighten me, but now the very event actually piqued my interest. There was a time when I actually attempt to transition into a lucid dream from a sleep paralysis.

Dreams allow me to explore my own world; the universe that I've created by myself, and all the weird people inside it. But it's not always a good thing though...

I unconsciously shifted into dream mode too many times to the point where I myself am in for a shock; what happened during that state? Well, for some of them, I can recall with utmost clarity as if it happened seconds ago; some of them however, are basically just a huge dark cloud, waiting for the day it will (never) be uncovered.

Most of these "transitions" usually happens after a wrong sequence of events (whether positive or negative) commenced at the wrong time, in the wrong place. As I said, it may be a combination of both happy and sorrowful events.

A perfect example? My whole form four life is a dream.

Somehow, this "transition" from my more childish, innocent self to a more mature, thoughtful self caused me to blur the lines between reality and imagination.

That sounds like something out of a low-budget fantasy novel.

Frankly speaking, I don't remember my 2011 chapter well. It seems so... out of place. It's like, oh so I've entered a new class and retained my shy old self, and suddenly time kinda skipped back and forth between her and... her alone? Damn. Did I fell for a girl that much?

Well, her presence changed me, and things happened too fast; I unknowingly threw reality aside and somehow, I don't feel like myself; or that's just because the current me is just a different person.

Sometimes, I even wonder if my entire form four life was just a dream, or reality, or both mixed together to form a mishmash of bullshit.

During my 2011 Japan trip, there was one night when I was in Disneyland with my family. After the fireworks show, when people were casually walking out of the park, I felt as if I was no longer living in the real world.

The atmosphere was noisy, but it seemed as if I had all sound filtered out. I kept looking down, watching my own legs walk by itself, similar to that of an out-of-body experience. I became depressed for absolutely no reason, as if Disneyland is a huge showcase of my worst nightmares.

Somewhere outside the park, I "floated" (actually walked, but I don't feel it) past the shadows of some lampposts? (Not sure, my head was still down) I immediately pondered on whether or not I was dreaming. It certainly felt like a dream. My vision was blurry, I didn't sense anything other than my own misery, and for a split second there, I actually believed that I will wake up from all that soon enough.

I've thought of suicide like it's the most ordinary thing to do, and even considered just walking to some far, far place and hide myself there for no reason.

During one moment (I think it was inside an elevator), my eyes flooded; maybe it's because my sanity could not cope up with this extremely horrifying state of mine? I don't know, I pretended to rub my eyes to get rid of those tears.

I totally forgot what happened all the way until I've entered the train, then I made a conclusion.

"I'm dreaming."

But part of me stressed that I'm in reality all along, so I didn't know what to do. I'm like, stuck in between both worlds.

I took out my iPhone and listened to Lady Gaga's The Edge of Glory. While the song was playing, something came to mind.

I don't know if it's just for me, but while dreaming, songs never complete themselves, they'll be distorted at some point, or never play at all, or turn into some nightmare.

The song ended after five minutes, without anything unnatural happening.

My mood lightened up almost instantaneously. Soon I began to start chatting with my parents (as usual), playing games on my iPhone, do normal stuffs.

It's like I've awakened from an actual dream.

This very event, along with another similar event still haunts me till the present. How could something as... abnormal as that possibly happen?

Guess I will never know.

A different story.

Woops, so it's March already? Damn, that's a lot faster than I thought.

Life's been easy on me these days; met some really nice people and some rather "unfriendly" ones, but most of them are pretty outgoing, or maybe that's just me. Bleh.

Guess when they said CPU is very assignment/project-orientated, they weren't lying. Managed to complete my various Chemistry assignments, my first English "Reader Response Essay" and also my "Media Presentation", and also the crazy (Lady Gaga) poster I did for Advanced Functions. Yes, Lady Gaga.

Reader response essay is some interesting shit, and this is exactly what I need at the moment; some form of practice to hone in my argumentative skills, which falls far behind my story writing ability. I'll never look at any lyrics the same way again (Well, except lyrics about sex and drugs, because their "hidden meanings" are usually just more sex, and more drugs.)

And English media presentation was awesome. I did an analysis of the music video "Breaking the Habit" by Linkin Park, which was an undeniably splendid choice. Somehow, I've felt that my stage fright kinda wore off (or not?); at least I didn't stutter much, or begin sentences with random occurrences of "uhh", "ahh", "ehh".

Last Friday was the day I took my first Chemistry exam (unit test? Whatever). Freaking cool; I never knew that the 7th floor was in fact an examination hall. LOL. Some people claimed it was an office floor, meh, it only proves how rarely people actually go there.

Oh and the 8th floor is the prayers floor? Cool.

College life is extremely exhausting, seriously. I got through nearly 6-8 hours of schooling/tuition per day during high school without feeling shit, and a daily six hour dose of college saps all of my vigor away.

That's not a bad thing though. 

While writing this post, I'm kinda assigned (on Facebook) to some random English group project thingy. What used to be a simple task kinda went nuts for me as I might have to skip Monday's group discussion due to my driving test. Oh, and some other issues which I prefer not to mention about. Damn.

Oh well, time to buck up for even more challenges. CPU is not just an interesting, engaging, satisfying chapter; no, never from the beginning. It's a chapter that strengthens me, that allows me to see the world from a different perspective, and also learn how to deal with all kinds of people. However, I don't know how to deal with pushy people yet though. Guess this is the perfect opportunity to learn.

My first real challenge in college life? Kinda. I'm glad it ain't about stupid love stories or friendship issues anymore though. Yet, I fully comprehend that this is merely a small bump on the road before a torrent of landslides and mountainous hills ahead (I hope not). May God bless me along my path, and grant me the strength, courage and willpower to overcome them.

Let's rock.

Corners

Standing on the edge of such misery, dignity;
reprimanding the ledge, "You're sorry, you're measly."
Secrets being shared along with serenades so eerie;
beneath its wrong heart, it fades so creepily;
within its song, art, thou art me freebie;
riding its guilty cart, you are mine so easily.

Corrode in my part, which is you and your part;
or low and get low, or face blood from my dart.
Rise only in my name, and fall only in yours;
nearer to my own fame, you fall on all fours.
Eradicate the fools who stand in my way;
right now you will serve me my day, today;
sight broken when you've done my job, you may.

Creep up onto me when I'm done, you say;
or weep you shall not when I'm down one day.
Realize that I conquered your soul on that day;
nowhere near a goner, you've a whole day.
Everyone who hears this will be proud of me;
resonate with my pride, and you'll be shrouded by me.

Now may I speak, young sir who breeds dark?
Your words and squeaks, they're like a breed's bark.
Listen to me, your spirit's too stark;
just chill out like me, you blasphemous mark.

The Cat Poem

(Poem requested by someone)

Emitting such efficient, golden light;
delivering a sufficient, woven delight
for all of us
by caressing her fur in the daylight.
Indulging her dignity in a shelter so bright,
divulging her affinity for a fresh seawater knight
from all of us.

Eyes keenly fixated onto a moving sight,
“Oh look there’s a rat alright!”
“Sigh”, her motivation was a mere slight.
She lay on the couch, wished a good night;
just like a lazed slouch, her life at its height.
“Ding-dong!” screeched the doorbell of might,
her playful eyes widened, well, not quite.
Her mind was blinded, winded in fright;
“Is it a monster?” she was prepared for plight.

Oh but a monster it was not, and never will be;
it was simply a man, a loyal man you see.
Ah such perfection to be reunited with glee;
the bond that they share, forever a guarantee.

Filters.

What is a promise?

Well, to us people, making promises is a method to instill trust in another person. The conditions of this agreement tend to range from stupidly easy (I promise that I will finish this blogpost), to just absurd (I promise that I will tickle myself to death). No matter what, the most fundamental rule is very simple; one could only promise to do something when he or she has the capability to do so.

Bullshit.

Yes, there are fulfilled ones, but the majority of all promises has only one intention: to get as much as possible out of the other party before shitting on their pitiful heads and leave them stranded in emptiness.

This applies especially to silent promises, which are the long, yet extremely fragile chains that bond two or more people together. It does not need to be vocally expressed, as the promise itself, is a mandatory "bonus" that comes together with the mutual trust, "free of charge".

If I want to befriend a complete stranger, which is basically achieving a reciprocal trust between us, whether we realize it or not, we have to come to a certain agreement. In other words, an unspoken promise that we will care for each other as friends, that we will be there for one another, that we will not fight where there's a misunderstanding, but instead, to work together to solve that miscommunication.

Alright, so people might say, "But I befriend him cause he's funny, he's cool, he's fun to be with," and all those crap.

Well, here's a question, did the other party stick to the unspoken promise? If they did, then well, good for you, you've just earned yourself a friend; but if they didn't, then well, the person's nothing but a liar, a thief, a torturer.

I don't believe that there's such thing as "true friends", as the word true itself is an extra, a useless exaggeration. Similarly, there is no "fake friends", just strangers, or to make it sound better, "associates".

Yet, I made "friends" that failed to satisfy even one of those conditions. It didn't really hit me at first, but that's because I didn't bother about these silent promises and shit.

I was childish.

Even when some of my so-called "friends" took advantage of me, pushed me around and treated me like the stinkiest piece of shit, I still tolerated and maintained our false state of "friendship".

This is the sole reason why I'm so easy to be picked on.

Still, I'm glad that beneath the mountain of broken chains, there are still a handful of people that I dare call my friends, people that witnessed my ups and downs, yet chose to hold on to that implicit promise we made.

I had a shift of thought; I would rather enjoy life accompanied by a very, very tiny group of loyal friends than a nation of bullshitting hypocrites.