Tuesday 20 September 2011

bent ego

just like an inkblot a speck of dust -a waste of necessary space
try as you might to get rid of it
you won't even notice
the presence
the opinion
the memory
what a brooder
a true blue introvert
lost in one's thoughts
preferring to stay
than face nonchalant reality
with deaf ears and blind eyes
the turning of heads and the unassertive hand
there is no way out
just all in the mind

* i don't even know what i wrote...or do i?.......

Monday 19 September 2011

scrambled eggs: my (possible) life in shambles [unedited]

Having options give you a wider range of possibilities. Choosing the right path that will pave way to the right direction is a tough decision. It is not advisable to sort it out overnight. A thorough scan of the brain and heart (and by that i meant metaphorically...i mean it literally just pumps blood) is implemented. Forget about the id, the ego is at work in partnership with the frontal lobe (wait...is that the superego or something?). But the amygdala's occasional synapses hinders full focus concentration. Fret not, the right answer will come; be it in a form of a epiphany or plain coincidence. 

Even though the pressure starts to increase, keep press on. One must take CHANCES and weigh in CONSEQUENCES. At least, that is what you try to tell yourself. In reality, every option is laced with absolute despicable undeniable fear of failure. There is a also the mindset of an existentialist: "What is my purpose?" "How will I be able to satisfy my intrinsic needs?". Go forth and philosophize(?)...

Becoming a hobo is DEFINITELY out of the question. There is a sense of dread that accompanies the life of that of a hobo. A hermit lifestyle would not suffice either. Hello, multitudes-of-animals-I-am-not-Noah and welcome to my humble abode. The superego suppresses those ruminations. SAPERE AUDE. Dare to know. To go beyond the borders of your comfort zone. Keep steady the reins of your imagination within the bounds of reality. Awl iz vell [(it's how rancho pronounces it)-> movie: 3IDIOTS]. The zone of actuality is vast. Still the dust has not settled. Gravity is playing a prank on you. 

Impatience never really worked for anybody. It keeps the mind fixated on negativity and RIDDIKULUS ridiculous what-ifs: "What if it turns out to be bullocks?" "What if something goes wrong?" What if I regret about the whole shebang?". Yes, a whole lot of WHAT-IFs...

So stop hurting your brain and begin commencing action. After all, what could possibly (not) happen? Albeit the fear is very much pronounced, do not consign to oblivion that inaction may lead to a dire aftermath (or can of worms if you prefer). Not knowing what to write after another chapter is done is excruciatingly difficult to handle. 

Where should I  fare from here? I'm at a point wherein I just walloped some random git at the Leaky Cauldron. What in blue blazes... And here I thought everything would be smooth sailing after this whole hullabaloo. I reckon this whole mess is because of ME! I haven't fully grasped the concept of these sorts of things. How could I? No amount of books can provide me with an adequate answer. No, not even a green-lightsaber-weilding-puny-big-eyed-alien can do that. What I do know (nooooooo! really?) is that it is up to ME MOI AKO. and...that's not an easy feat to accomplish...

now, where do I begin?

Sunday 31 July 2011

that neighbour of mine

do remember
to weep for the forgotten
lay flowers on the barren wasteland of their memory

for they were there
when times were difficult
when you have triumphed

always present
never seen
just an image of what has been

and what will always be
a shadow, unseen, unheard
never acknowledged

not a pang of sorrow when they've faded
just a strong sense of familiarity and unfamiliarity
a ghost of nothing

so say your empty farewell
and be kind
begone invisible stranger

Monday 27 June 2011

BUTTA BEE (that's how they say butterbeer...where i'm from anyway)

Ingredients:
  • 1 cup (8 oz) club soda or cream soda
  • ½ cup (4 oz) butterscotch syrup (ice cream topping)
  • ½ tablespoon butter
Directions:

Step 1: Measure butterscotch and butter into a 2 cup (16 oz) glass. Microwave on high for 1 to 1½ minutes, or until syrup is bubbly and butter is completely incorporated.

Step 2: Stir and cool for 30 seconds, then slowly mix in club soda. Mixture will fizz quite a bit.

Step 3: Serve in two coffee mugs or small glasses; a perfectly warm Hogwarts treat for two!






Celebrate the last installment of the HP series with butterbeer! 

i know i'll be :)

Tuesday 29 March 2011

someday aneurism will get hold of me

i am in dire need of letting the words come out

Spit it out, i say

Go free

Be engulfed by flames

Express myself. subtle or not.

There is no use in suppressing it.

Risk the explosion of colorful words

And unintended emotions

just hand me a box of chocolates...who knows what i'll get

it tasted like fresh cacao

how deceiving

how i wish

you'd look at me

no. i shake my head and smirked

i don't want your romance. your ulterior motives (if you have, which i doubt)

i'd rather imagine

long hours on a bench

just talking. sensless.deep

oh, how i wish

but, i wish too hard

our paths don't meet

you wouldn't come my way

not a second thought. or even a thought

damn those cacao beans





note: this is another repost. well i wrote it. but it was originally posted on my facebook account. like that matters. anywho...

Monday 28 March 2011

SEE YOU THERE!

QUIT IT

I HAVE EFFING WRITER'S BLOCK.


I'LL JUST WRITE WHATEVER'S POPPING OUT OF MY BRAIN...HERE GOES


STOP BEING HAUNTING MY DREAMS! S#!+= ARGH.


HMM. A WHOOPIE PIE SOUNDS DELICIOUS RIGHT NOW...(RAIDS THE FRIDGE) DAMN...


SCOTT PILGRIM WAS RAD. WONDER IF I CAN GET A HAIRCUT JUST LIKE RAMONA'S


WHY THE WOULD YOU PUT SEX AND CHOCOLATE TOGETHER, NEIL ETHERIDGE? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?


SUCKER PUNCH!I <3 BABY DOLL! WAIT...DOES THAT MAKE ME BI?OOHHH 


DID YOU SEE THE NEW HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS PART 2 POSTER? SIDE PROFILES OF HARRY AND VOLDY...HAHAHAHA THE NOSE DUDE! THE NOSE!


WHAT TO WEAR? AYAY. 

Wednesday 16 March 2011

chronicles of an aftershock: great leap forward


time continues running, moving forward. replays are non-existent. but, i don't mind winding back a few tapes from who-knows-when, purely for my own amusement. i have not forgotten. heck, i'm not trying to. don't get me wrong. there WERE several things (my way of saying FEELINGS)involved and i have to admit, there wasn't any heavy drama on our part...not that we had A LOT of time (just saying). surprisingly, whenever i reminisce (cue in emo music) the good (and bad) ol' times, i just laugh to myself. come to think of it...


this is the big piece of junk chunk inside of me (no, not my internal organs, i meant it metaphorically)that FINALLY (choir sings) wants to let it all OUT. i'm not expecting anything. in fact, i have come at peace with pride and denial (all is good...and fair with love...and war). this is me using duct tape to seal numerous boxes inside my mind. but, i'm a little bit hesitant you see... to throw them away.


then i have decided. i won't disregard them (i mean just you...yeah you.) like trash (go green. recycle trash...that can be used again...?). although they've (yep still you) made me burst into tears (until they had to surgically remove my tear ducts), i've gained a different perspective when it comes to other people (yeah. some of them SUCK). the experience truly was insightful. plus, beyond doubt, albeit it took eons, i have moved FORWARD


without you.




*notes:
yeah. i also wrote that ages ago. so yeah. just wanted to put it here.

Sunday 6 March 2011

i admire him. straying away from obtuse lyrics (typical FOB). the video (i heard) didn't cost much. but, come on! look at it. AWESOME!

Saturday 5 March 2011

monster unleashed

abandon all hope
you have been warned
once the jagged talons have sunk
escape is futile

reason is unseen
for it is blinded by crimson reptilian eyes
there is no sense in rationalizing
the mind of destruction

ripping with sharp incisors
leaving the body slightly damaged
and the soul mortally wounded
for it feeds on rage and tears and hope

surveying the casualty
its chest heaves. breath. haggard
it was all an intermittent display
and there lies the savage within