Friday, 31 December 2010


First of all, happy new year, my lovely, technological companion!

So I've been using this nifty new application from the App Store recently since it was announced in Gizmodo that it was going to be free all throughout January. It's called Runkeeper. It's kind of like that Nike + iPod thing only better, I don't need some button or something in my shoe. It records the distance, the calories burned (lol), it even has music, and it records the route you've partaken and utilises Google Maps (I think) for easy pointers. It's really neat. I'm loving this simple New Year's resolution for myself, try it!

Think about it, it's like Facebook for healthy people (or not).

Tuesday, 28 December 2010

Lights out

Infatuation with the dark usually stems from the desire to step away from the concept of love without having to compromise the love that is already within one's self. It usually is created to fill the gaps between sorrow, depression and that idea of longing for someone or something either intentional or involuntary. The longer the time lapses, the larger the consequences take its toll upon that said person and it usually begins in a scornful way, much more so when the vulnerability of the victim is at its lowest point. There begins that lingering idea of suicide, sadomasochism and most common among its vile ways, use of drugs. But there are some of those that survive that moment in time without succumbing to the treachery of human stain. These people form a bond with themselves greater than the bond they usually share with their parents, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, sometimes even God Himself. The central idea that forms within that person begins to make an understanding of the limited prowess of his or her own potential, forms a pact between themselves, pushes through and lives their lives knowing fully well what grave actions they may conjure and achieve. That same cycle will penetrate even the highest of the high and the poorest omadhaun. Thus begins fascism of the soul, and the soul of the soul, and the corruption of the young, and the insufficiency of justice.

Monday, 27 December 2010

Simplest of things

I struggle even with the simplest of things. I find it difficult to follow simple arithmetic. I am highly instinctive and my instincts are usually selfish, what is outside of its realm deserves no gratitude of any sort. I am not without common sense though, but sometimes I feel that with me being this pretentious, it feels as though what I pretend moulds into what I become, nasty as it may be, and I lost it all, every simple matters and treasures I have had. Relationships, opportunities, money, career, any materialistic possessions I could have had.

Looking back at things there certainly were moments where I felt life took its own detour. Early retirement, the 'restaurant' (if they insist), the home incident, London aspirations, nurses and failure debarment, independence, up to this point, none of it were as painful as trying to remember the incident before it all happened. The blissful everyday life routine, the fresh scent of pigeons in the morning underneath our mango tree, the cemented tree house, the home office, everything. It was lightyears more painful than anything else, because I know for a fact I will not be able to take back all those simple things. Everything is much, much more complicated now. The dilemma between the yes or no will haunt me for the rest of my life. It never is a simple task, never will be. So where have all the simple things gone?

Perhaps heaven is as simple as it sounds.

Sunday, 26 December 2010


Neutral by Cil Rand

"I'm not shy but this is different. I can't explain the way I'm feeling tonight."


Wall-e by Cil Rand

Blessing in disguise

Although my holiday, despite not having finished yet, is arguably the worst I have ever had, a blessing in disguise in the form of an old flame came out of nowhere and surprised me with a hello and that was that. I now have reason to keep going again. I cannot justify the intention of that said person for contacting me but I feel obliged to be very fortunate of being remembered even as far as my birthday in two or three months' time. We were almost without communication for a year or so due to miscommunication and my pathetic excuse for a joke that ended up in a sour tone which eventually led to our demise. She was as pure as a dove, in search for the bountiful loots life has in offer, and I was a rogue looking for some gold and damsel to abuse. But she changed me in lots of ways normal people would not dare go beyond into especially when you talk about my relationships with people in the past. It's a huge step and a big rebound to my optimism, but sadly, like all other sad love stories, she is currently engaged to somebody else. Funnily enough, I used to refer to her when people ask me as 'the one that got away.' Indeed she got away and I was but to blame for everything. When she invited me over to her place (which rarely ever happens to me most especially women), I would say no in shame for the people she is living with, the parents, the brother, the dog, and I would only ask in return, 'what for?' and she would say to talk, eat, have fun, all that type of bullshit that I honestly have been aching for to share with another person with. And, of course, hesitant as I am, again I said no. And that was that. End of faggotry.

We tried laughing once more of the times past. I tried hard not to overstep my territory which usually happens abruptly and ends everything in utmost unease. Once again I had the chance to dwell on our petty silliness which I oh so love, every single moment gives me elation beyond all else. I am but a fool as I most commonly say and she was, too. There was a time I used to address to her in my mind as gold beaver, another form of those people characteristics or behaviour that I detest, but she proved me wrong. Big time. That was one of my other mistakes. That is what made me the loser that I am today. That is what I try to avoid as much as possible with my interaction with newfound acquaintances. It's quite tough, especially abroad, where culture is highly dependent on traditions, norms and mores. It takes time to crack up. Sometimes I get the right set of mood for a certain type of group and sometimes I try certain things to another group and end up in a very distasteful way. Sometimes I try to be bad and it's okay and then I try to be good but then certain impressions become uptight and unreasonable, with me in the middle of it all.

I don't know if a deity has observed me quite recently and thought of me merciful and pathetic, I would usually say I don't really need their help or whatever, but in this case, if it is indeed their work then thank you for giving me this one-time opportunity and I hope it is not just a one-time opportunity. Come on. Do better than that. My body and mind longs for a new chapter of obstacles to overcome. These which they gave me has served their purpose already and served it well. Move along and make it a whole lot less depressing this time. If possible, make it maddening. That would probably help me tremendously with my career in the future depending on specific circumstances. Oh well. Whatever you decide. I'm here.

Post script: I didn't go out this boxing day. It's Sunday, too lazy as usual to go out and I know stores close earlier than normal at this day so why bother. Probably for the better to save money for the new year celebration, if there is one. I wish. Anybody reading this better help me with this cause. I'm like a prisoner in my own backyard. I don't even have a backyard.

Boxing day

Nothing yet but I'm on to it. I don't know what to expect or do but hopefully get some things going. Not shopping again? Sigh.

Friday, 24 December 2010

Merry christmas..

.. to me.

Thursday, 23 December 2010


Today I am going talk about nothing because that's all there is really. What is it about nothingness that is so alluring most people have it but also doesn't have it at the same time? And is there a choice whether or not you are lucky or unlucky to be one of the very many chosen ones to suffer the same fate? I will try to avoid speaking intellectually for the sake of the masses, not that I'm implying I have any, but to make it a lot more easier and simpler for all the busybodies out there unaware of the possibilities that someday life will also be nothing for them. What is it that drives us? What is it that does not? Nothing. A word so empty yet full of definition. Make something out of nothing kind of philosophy. Will there be any chance of irrefutable evidence that nothing is also something? How about everything?

Ironically, nothing is something because it is most often used as an indefinite pronoun. Therefore, it stands for something, whatever nothing is, or it is not. It is like when I say, 'Nothing is worse than my pathetic-infested soul.' Is nothing merely no thing? Or is it possibly a thing? Questionable as it may seem. It is no wonder that I have a strange fascination in the world of Nietzsche, that philosopher, yes. He is often associated with nihilism which, for a lack of better definition, believes in the worst possible scepticism for existence in general. I don't really know but somehow I am drawn to that belief and it somehow takes its shape and form into my own. That which to my existence lies wherein my faith is absent it is predominant and alive. The only thing that is missing are the right words to fit it all together and come up with something (or nothing) that will give value to what is already in place and what isn't. Sometimes I wonder the potential I could achieve if given that valuable chance, but I have all the chance in the world! That's the sad part! Where has that potential I've been seeking all along be lurking about? Or is it already in me and I fail to grasp and understand its limitedness? How do I start? Where do I begin? Will I ever even begin it? How do I end that which I so loathe now?

In the end nothingness is more about the question whether or not that something which is already established establishes another form from nothing to something. That is how I interpret that idea which will ultimately glorify all those conceived ideas I have had ever since. Despite that dilemma I will continue to dwell into these lifelong passion into ideas and somehow put them simply into words that are so maniacally difficult to attain. But first, I have to go to the bathroom, crap and shower, make use of all the nice things I bought the other day from the drug store, make myself look pathetic in front of a live, imaginary audience and continue to blabber on about the state of stupidity and pretend inferiority to encourage the arrogance.

Only the lonely

You're perfect, yes, it's true... but without me, you're only you.

Imagine (no pun intended) John Lennon without Yoko. That would be.. gasp!

I feel the urge to defecate as I write this but I withhold it for a little while longer. Meanwhile, I really would want to rest my head somehow seeing as that I have spent almost twelve long hours soaked into this tiny otherworldly thing most people would call a 'laptop' and coincidentally enough, it is on top of my lap and belly button while I lie in my light-deprived bed and the telly staring at me for hours now doing nothing and showing nothing as well. What a charmer I am, trying to lure out the scum that the world ever so needed. Hello scum, welcome to my world now where you can find your vivid imaginations come to life in the form of mutilated fungus and deformed fingernails consumed and enjoyed for pleasure in this not-so-alluring twisted and deluded fantasy of mine. The clown has woke up, it's time for bed. Milk and honey are scarce. The smiles are filled but the hearts are empty.

Just like me. Only the lonely.

Wednesday, 22 December 2010


Honour lost amongst thieves
Buried within the windy leaves
The friction of pain one receives
Nothing compared to what he believes
What it is that life for him gives
Depends on what he plans and weaves


Good old mercy free from sin
Cast out demons from within
Red stars light out and about
Cleanse the infidels of their doubt
Redemption comes to those who win

Minus stellar

Wow, the days cannot be any more slower and unproductive than this. This fucking sucks. I revolt against myself! How dare I! When I grow up I want to drink coffee and have lots of children, eat pancakes for dinner, and drive my own bicycle. That's ambition for me. Fuck. You.

Fuck. Me.

I wish.

Tuesday, 21 December 2010

Nothing better than shopping...

... after long months of not being able to, either because I lack the sufficient funds to do so or I simply have no longer control of my time as I divulge myself fully to my newfound interest, theatre. First of all I had no intention of going shopping. I didn't have enough before I woke up this morning. My utmost priority was mainly to resolve the internal conflict going on with regards to my visa renewal. I did the biometrics thing at Elephant and Castle which was eerily deja vu, like I was back at Manila for a couple of minutes. I tried hard not to be anxious and nervous but I can't help especially after the dude told me I had lots of bad prints on my first try. I had to go to the washroom and wash my filthy hands. Only God knows (and me) where it has been for the past couple of days, and I wouldn't want to tell you myself. It's a personal secret. I went back and I, unsure whether or not fortunate, finally got it partially right having only two left questionable fingerprints on my left hand. He told me then that the appointment is adjourned and that they most likely will call me back within ten weeks. If not then I should probably contact them myself otherwise I be damned if I can stay any more longer in this snow-laden country. I wouldn't want to waste the opportunity to throw away that which I started in LISPA.

And so after that I finally had been able to go shopping again, and I had orgasms every single time I entered a shop and did what I normally had not been able to. From Elephant and Castle, I traversed on towards Oxford Circus where all the money-sucking enterprises gather around to swindle tourists into poverty, and they wouldn't mind. Not at all. If given the chance I would buy them all and give nothing back. Truth is I'd rather have things I don't need rather than need them but I don't or no longer have them. It felt so refreshing albeit slightly fatigued from walking. The shoes I used were dad's jumbo Timberlands. Good for the snow but terribly out of fashion. It depends, really. I just don't have the matching clothes to match them with. I kind of like them, but I wouldn't really bet on it. It's as manly as gay. I needed something more subtle, something with a touch of what an entrepreneurial tycoon would wear. I ended up buying something I didn't desperately as of this moment. Ties. I've been looking for some for quite some time now. I'm finally happy with my first purchase but I can't help but fear the consequences of the changes I am undergoing in time. Hush! Leave the narcissisms and pessimisms and all other future -isms. There were lots of things I saw that I valued but none really that captured my interest, I decided to leave it for now after having walked back and forth from the rainy sidewalks to the burning heaters of the edifices. Can't help but itch every single time. Spent a couple of hours loitering especially at HMV where I was deeply contemplating buying keyboards for my band and some accessories for my recently purchased iPhone. Nothing. I soon gave up and left the ever-so-crowded streets and set sail for Westfield so that I could go home easily if I want to.

After the bus ride I found myself walking towards Argos. Never bought a single thing from there not even once, but I really wanted to buy something for my fitness training and exercises. I didn't indulge myself into every workout accessory I found but I bought an exercise ball and sit up support instead. Not bad for a first time buyer. I like the hassle-free experience and my initial impression was satisfactory considering there were quite a number of customers in that store when I entered, and I still did not know how to buy things. They do things quite unorthodox there. I managed to fix my curious nature by using my quick wit and common sense and left the store with a huge smile on my face. Now it's finally time for Westfield.

Typical route when I entered. Either I go directly to HMV (again) or I stop in the Apple Store. That's the normal visit I usually do when first entering that place. There were a hefty number of people inside but fortunately it wasn't like I would suffocate if I'd been there. So I did my rounds the same pathway, bought a Chaplin book which would have made a perfect gift for Secret Santa. Slipped a screen protector into one of the pages to hide it and paid at the counter. Voila! Free item, but don't tell anyone, heh.

It was here that after walking for the entire day I found myself exhausted. Shopping has been tremendously overwhelming especially on my legs. I went to Superdrug and bought all my household necessities and then BAM! comes the dynamite. I met Perfume again. I may not have mentioned her before but she has actually quite a lasting impression on me. I first met her a few months ago after being out with Marcos and some of the other guys after class in The English Studio. We were slacking off while Erika was out buying stuff for her (dis)pleasure and I (we) met her. She had the same snowy hair since I last saw her, same length and same body proportions. I've been fatter so I doubtfully agree she remembers me. Third time's a charm? Not really. I pussed out as I normally do. I finished everything then left. She whispered something inaudible to me though after she passed by me. I figured it was just an 'excuse me' whisper. It seemed that way. Cruel world.

So my day finishes and I went home full-handed. I'm as happy as a prostitute in a bar. The ball consumed my energy trying hard to inflate it. I ate a two-course meal within a lengthy period in between but heavy consumption. I'm happy my room is finally clean after tidying it up with grade A effort. I could never be happier.

Now if only I could get away from this place...

Monday, 20 December 2010


Mulled by wine and steel the suffering has been stifled and weakened. The blacksmiths have abandoned their crafts at long last. With their wives and children they set forth to the neighbouring kingdom of Villarosa where our hope awaits and defends. Along with warriors and rogues, thieves and fools alike, we march. Although, I understand, it was never intended to be easy.

There were innumerable obstacles in store for us.

Weather. The frozen tundras were the only way forward and we had no option but to move along. The extreme chill pierced through our skin and left half of the people in agony and gloom. There was no talking along the way, everyone's teeth were preoccupied in rattling. Not to mention the rabid mammals who were lurking behind the icicles with their eyes intent on making dinner made of human flesh. The blanched bears and silver wolves hunted us as if we were prey, and we were at that moment vulnerable. I had to stand up and defend my people from countless creatures of nature. I felt my body was beginning to frail and collapse, but alas the fighting got me all worked up and warmed up at the very least. I slew them all. We have found rations at long last, but the air still remained unfriendly. We kept walking and walking for six days at the most, the air getting worse the farther we go. The thick snow killed off half of our manpower, and they began to blame me for the loss. I blame me for the loss as well.

It was only the beginning of the trials we had undergone.

A date with the border agency

That's still tomorrow. Actually, I thought it was today. I dressed up for nothing! Oh well.

Saturday, 18 December 2010

First term

Countdown to Christmas and New Year has always been the liveliest time of year. Not for me, not for me. I'm an exception. It's always one step different with me. I believe it has been almost five long years of celebrating the holidays alone, and although I may not be sincerely miserable, there is no denying a tinge of hurt in my sensitivity. Now is the first time I get to be with my 'loved ones,' if for some mocking chance that pair of words truly exist, and I feel that rabid urge to cling on to whatever it is that was left of the past analogies I had of life and growing up. In other and simpler words, I just want to be alone. I don't want to be with them. Not that I hate them, well, I do a little bit, but still. I want to go somewhere else if possible. I want to live life as it should be lived, and that constant denial of joy will never go unanswered especially when part of me is involved in it. I guarantee there will be anything but peace on Earth during this year-ender special. It's like a marathon of soap operas you see on telly before they move on to all the others for the upcoming year. A sort of recap of anything and everything. The good and the bad, the memorables and forgettables. This is not a laughing matter anymore. This is torture at best. No amount of reconciliation will mend this. Not even by an ounce, a stone (don't even know what kind of measuring figure is this and how much in other terms, damn Britain), or an inch. My term is over and it has helped me deal with people hard and strong, not as physically, mind you, and that points where my respect has gone. Frustrations have moved on from one aisle to another, creeping back and forth looking for an enabling addict like a pusher. These have been my inspirations. The essence of my ambition. The workaround between sanity and suicide, whichever works for your convenience. It has never been fully realized. This melodrama is addictive, it guts you, hacks you, yet loves you. Reminds me of one Jesus. Who was born a week from now two thousand years ago (debatably).

Friday, 17 December 2010


Sad that I suck at cooking
It matters not no more
Techniques can be taught
That's what Thomas is for

I have to hurry up
I have to leave in a few
Must have my shower soon
The clock's telling me to

Wednesday, 15 December 2010

Dress rehearsal

The scratch he sustained from the various bodily range of motions he conjured begins to swell and turn all the more red. With use of the first aid kit found at his own humble abode he decides to disinfect the wound with alcohol and a band aid which belonged to his old folk who was asleep when he decided to have a grab at it without permission, and why not if for the good purpose. He hurt his body from too much exertion, can barely bend his back and abdominal regions. Everything seemed to hurt him, including his acquaintances which he found slightly bearable depending on circumstance. He had a fragile emotion, ever changing in every moment he can. It hurt him most after reading the morning zodiac informing him of later success and happiness at the end of each day which never seems to occur at all.

He is once again irked by the actions of a previously nice female acquaintance who recently became a stuck-up bitch with pimples and square head. Her countenance reminded him of a classic cartoon in the form of Ren and Stimpy, with all those despicable images, not to mention disturbing, of slime and grime. Tomorrow they meet again. Tomorrow the second last day. What a way to exit, to disappoint. Christmas always destroys it for him.

Saturday, 11 December 2010


Ohh my God...
Baby you done took this... to another level!
Now a neighbourhood nigga like me ain't supposed to be gettin no pussy like this
Damn, damn!, who thought you how to get sexy
(Ceezy taught me)
You never use to talk dirty, but now you damn disgusting. My, my God, where'd you learn that?
(Ceezy taught me)
Look at you... naked... with them... Jimmy Choo's off. Who thought you how to put some... Jimmy Choo's on?
(Ceezy taught me)
Yo, you took your game up a whole 'nother level, this is some Cirque 'u Soleil now!
You done went all porno on it, k. And I, and I love it... And I thank you, I thank you, my dick thanks you!
How did you learn, how... how did your game come up?
(Ceezy taught me)
I was... parts of your pussy I never... before. I was in there like, oo, I never been here before. I've never even seen this part of town before.
It's like you got this... re-upholstered or something. What the fuck happened?
Who, who the fuck got your pussy all re-upholstered?
(Ceezy re-upholstered my pussy)
You know what, I got to thank Ceezy.
And when I see that nigga I'mma thank him. I'mma buy his album, I'mma download that... I'mma shoot a bootlegger!
That's how good I feel about this...
Oww, I still can't believe you got me this watch. The exact... I wanted!
Even with the bezel! this is the... I wanted. I saw this, I saw it,
Twista had this on in The Source. I remember, Twista had this on in The Source.
That's right, that's right! Yo yo babe, yo yo this is the best birthday ever!
Where you learn to treat a nigga like this?
(Ceezy taught me)
Ceezy taught you well, Ceezy taught you well.

Will be

I once remember (not too long ago) a woman telling me in her own nicest way possible that my fashion sense were laughable for wearing skinny and tight leggings which I find best suitable when I am moving to and about the room doing all those crazy stunts for performance classes. The criticism was utterly preposterous and honestly left me dumb-founded. Was she that stupid? Or was she just looking for a nasty reason to piss me off and she succeeded? Anyway, who was her to say what I to wear or not to wear in the first place? It's the most ridiculous criticism I've ever heard of myself in all my living glory, and I've had crazier ones but not as annoying as this. Imagine doing splits or cartwheels on denims. What irks me the most is that she was potentially the best one amongst the women, and she destroyed herself by that statement alone.

It's the last week of the first term. I don't know what to make of it. Made an equal amount of love as much as I made a suitable amount of hate. Can't please everyone, so que sera, sera.

Wednesday, 8 December 2010

Philosophical rubbish

There was nobody left anywhere. Lights flicker steadfastly signalling it's time to go. The floor shadows ignite tension to the room as if occupants of same space. The table was just as bored as he was. He found company amongst furnitures and leftover utensils.

'Lead me quietly into the dark, and I will bring light upon it. The stars will forever shine upon me as if to say I am not alone, and I always was and never, for the same stars were there, not in the same location as they would the previous meeting, but that same energy flow towards his character runs deep, eyes cower, lips quiver. What sort of resistance was necessarily folly? What limited preconceptions materialised before our heads? There is no answer to your self-pitying query. The riddle comes in forms of emotions. Sadness, melancholy, grief, despair, nostalgia. These are the guiding bodies to your salvation, and these will find all the ways of which you can manifest into a whole, an entity of yourself and of the planet. Whatever it is that troubles you or draws the misfortune then it is up to another entity equivalent of your own that helps you strive for success. How to find this 'equal entity' rests in your loving hatred towards men and women alike. Thus loathing for your kind is relevant to self-righteousness. Selfishness becomes virtue as hate manifested becomes naturally enlightened.'

Behind him the doors closed and the lights went out. He sat in the corner of the glass window and curbed into foetal position, closed his eyes and prayed for comfort.

Monday, 6 December 2010


One of these days I am going to get myself in order and shape
Thing is, there has not been much of an inclination to do so
Recently, nothing has been happening much, too mundane
Zapped back into repression, people think I am taciturn
Old enough to know better, too cute to care
The idea stems from the pitiful nature of the ignoramuses
The world has had loads of those, unfortunately
I desire to go back to being loquacious and stout
And then wake up to the sound of my wet drool


Nobody finished the chips. I didn't like it cold nor the absence of crispiness helped. If any, it made it completely awful. I set it aside on the corner (usually left for a couple of days to rot in vain), drank a can of soft drink lying beside the table. The urge to pee was unbearable, pulled the zip down aiming the glorious shaft in the tiny hole of the can, released the frustrations inside, and yelled out a thunderous roar. The place was immediately silenced. Finally establishing the much-needed territorial stance like a proud canine, I go back to my normal self.

Alone but not lonely

Mocked by the intensity of the cacophonous banter of the surrounding crowd, he shuts himself away into an oblivious reverie. He has no approbation from his peers whatsoever; it is but merely a test of faith, of patience. From his position and where he sits, it was clear that the intentions were illogically biased and pre-orchestrated to exclude even his subjective opinion. He would have none of that. Clearly this was to him a farcical joke no longer awarding of a punchline. There no longer was any relevance to the performing bodies anymore, all of which plagued by idiocy and crap mentality of the majority and unlawful pity to the minority. The enablers are all the more guilty by association, consumed by the desire to be accepted within the circle from which all mediocrity is based upon. It proved too tasteless for his buds, his inexperience would not even equate the lunacy he so just witnessed.

He shrugged it all off, outnumbered by the sheer folly of the antidrama, and so carried the burden throughout. A forlorn cause, he waited in the shadows to strike mercilessly at the most opportune moment, and even in this present moment his wrath remains suppressed in the process of combustion.

Sunday, 5 December 2010

Shaun the Sheep

At this current moment is the very first time I watched an episode of Shaun the Sheep. Nadieh the Dutch from class frequently mentions this adorable white mammal. In her own hysterical way, her eyes light up every single moment I put on my protective snow headgear that resembles that of this creature and, while smiling, calls me by the name of Shaun the Sheep. I really have no idea if I should take such actions lightly and if these are compliments or insults. At least I made her smile in an unexpected way, that is what matters. It is very difficult to please performers such as them and I value every single smile or praise they can utter to me for that would be a rare and momentous occasion. Except, of course, those people that I find stale in comparison with the majority.

Here I go again with my cynicism.


The interpersonal convergence was haphazardly on due. The notion of twin stars falling from space were fallacious. None of them bore a hint of truth. Life in the deep unknown were more complicated than one ever imagined. Infinity was at the tip of their grip. Megalomania will engross the invader. The rings of third Saturn were glowing bright red, rotating faster than usual and missing another moon. There was enigma amongst the stellar skies.


Emptied the sack. There was nothing more but a lonely headphone. Lifted her skirt and inserted the plug in between her right thigh. Bleeding profusely. Nothing fancy about it. Slid her finger to the flow of blood upwards slowly. She sighed. Aimed her bloodied finger at her mouth and licked it while it drips. Back and forth, up and down. She sucked it like it was a shaft. Blowjob.

They saw her doing the nasty thing from afar. They knew something was amiss. What was she doing? Why is she alone? They walked towards her with intent and curiosity. To their horror they witnessed the deed and shrieked in panic. She bled on without a care in the world. She was satisfied. Stared at the people with wide eyes and indifference. She fainted soonafter with a smile.


The pink robots appeared again to annihilate the remaining forces of the Unicorn Defences. It was a terrible sight to behold. They began their onslaught on an unsuspecting old beaver who just visited the tea shop for breakfast.

'I hate beavers,' whispered one.

There was no hope of survival. Many of the evacuees now take comfort underneath the bunkers of Turtle Island where the counter-forces kept their guard at the heaviest. They were led by a giraffe woman who stuttered every single time she utters a word with a letter R. Nevertheless, every single one of them looked up to her as a symbol of hope and salvation, and she has been doing just that consistently.

Reconnaissance owls prowled the skies day by day in that island. Bomb scares were constantly imminent and the people were in persistent threat of danger. Anti-air mortars were mostly destroyed after the last battle with the vultures. Sea defences as well were constantly bombarded with underwater threat that included some of the Octopus Leader's school of fish. It proved to be a very difficult spot for them to defend seeing as that they lack both the manpower and the arsenal to tackle such fiendish assaults. Most of the mammal volunteers were unable to fly nor swim and that alone proved a great deal of liability against the enemy since their current location has already been compromised and under heavy fire.

It was not until the gnomes came that the oppressors retreated. The slick technology brought by them actually held the opponent back surprisingly and ultimately proved too much for the other side to take. The gnomes brought the chameleons from foreign land transported through underground mines dug deep into the earth.

It was not long before they discovered something more sinister was coming; The red robot landed from the skies accompanied by a band of pink ones. The legend proved too much for them, the spine-tingling rumours too dark, the prophecy beginning.


Stole milk from my father
He seethes in frustration
His coffee tastes like coffee now
While I crap bucket loads

Saturday, 4 December 2010

Five alive

The armoured casing of the dynamic abstractness was showcased during the exhibition. There was no other competition other than a few petty challengers who wished to pay tribute to nostalgia; it was not even worthy of mention.

Five canvases were rolled neatly into the walled cement. These were the ideals they were looking after and looking out for. There was a distinction between these two opposing marks.

One was of the contemporary sort. Au naturel. Not much going on except the obvious. There was no apparent flaw except everything and nothing. There was no right and there was no wrong. Anything made everything godly repulsive. The paradox of creation, which in itself is the essence of life.

The second was more attractive in terms of attention to detail. The Spanish dilemma. El conquistador. The one that got away. The thing that kept the fire burning, and due to that burned on in itself. It brought demise upon its own with its unflattering wave of tensions that were a bit too much for its own good. It was a lost cause for a just intention. Thus began melancholia as a breeze of fresh air.

Third involves the juvenile state of schizophrenia. Asperger. With its limited empathy towards the concrete, it desires its 'own' however much you define it. This twisted dark imagery is a torrent of ideas that come gushing through towards the abysmal oesophageal tract of the fragile state of mind. It devours the common denominator among all of its prey; physical clumsiness.

The next one was a special rite in its own right. The traditional poetic. The type of which is aspired for. The one that demands strict inspiration to culprit. This one, Sensitivo. Not much to say about it except that the colour and shape of each strokes are so meticulously planned that the overbearing emotion that strikes its view is left to wonder how such a marvel became so stale in the process. In such a sad description, I wonder how long a time this madness will this innocent victim will suffer. A short and painful death, I reckon.

Monochrome. The incomplete full set, they say. Such joyful impact you deliver, such passion and endless reasoning flow through me like water from ink. You are doomed from the start. Noir has long been ageing and dying. You are not part of the exception. You are the epiphany to say we are and will continue on struggling.

Get up, stand up

White morning with the snow still up for grabs a window away. My fingers still are hypothermic. I have this sense of urgency to sleep all day for reason none other than being lazy. Listening to music as per usual, eating unhealthy, heavy on calories, carbohydrate-driven pastes. Eggs are a giveaway, protein to nurture my strength. The glowing power of growing. My humble abode is still in a laughable mess. I need to stay away from you. You are part of the reason for treason. Treasons for no reason. The reason for no reason. Lazy without a cause. It's time for all the wrong reasons.

Friday, 3 December 2010

"So.. who was phone?"

It ended with a hiccup and slowly dissipated into the blanched air. Normally I don't ever agree on starting paragraphs with 'it' because it is connotative of something unprepared and half-loved. And half-loved to me is half-hated as well so that sums it up. The journey we had undertaken from the first week up to this has not been quite up to par as to my expectations but it does not mean I am not pleased. For a lack of a better term, I am still hungry for detail. My improvements are steady but not consistent. My potential is questionable. My skills are arguable. My overall chemistry with the people is bland. My overall chemistry with the space is fair. My overall chemistry with my mentors are lacklustre but not distressful. My communication methods are horrendous, which, by the way, always leaves me hanging by the end of each session gripping away with regrets and anxiety scorning myself and torturing deep into the masochistic nature of my ego. I no longer feel the urge to push myself into the people. I have proven myself enough. They have chosen their decision as I have with mine and, despite regretful, is one proven an important lesson to the journey of the cycle of mundane life.

So anticlimactic everything turned out to be. Absurdly unromantic and self-righteous. Where have I been for the past twenty years or so?

Anyway, my mobile phone died on me due to the extreme temperate weather. Tomorrow I supply myself with a new one. Much better one, I suppose. Hopefully one that can fool people to think I finally am a champion in my own right. My fascination for champions are incredibly addictive.

Search and destroy