Lazy from C-Z

\ [+] / My grossly incandescent tips for you young souls: Learn to die and laugh at yourself . Playing any Souls games with a bad temper will diminish your lifespan by 70%, and I'm not talking about your character. Always remember that dying is part of the game , but it's never the game's fault -- you die because you made a mistake. Learn from it, and don't blame the stupid controller or any of the mechanics of the game. Learn from the tutorial near the first bonfire. Do not skip it.  Allocate 80% on offense, 20% on defence . Defence does not matter much when you die a lot anyway. Might as well bring the other down before it brings you down. It wouldn't matter a lot if you wear the starting armour set from beginning to end. Consider it more aesthetic than necessary. But consider a sturdy shield as part of the offence. This applies on all Souls games. Evading is better than blocking , but not always. Learning how to manoeuvre your movements to your a...

Love.

There are contrails in the orange sky as I look out the window. It makes me contemplate for a moment. It seems to me that my reduction into the lowest form of depression has manifested itself quite rapidly, perhaps at the loss of purpose and love, as a result of the mundane things -- which were not mundane at all -- that I took for granted. My aggression towards the end sealed my fate, and now I am left barenaked to witness the gradual loss of my persona. I shudder to think of what lies ahead. All I want, all I still want, all that I have ever wanted, is a new purpose. I cannot blame everything on Mioseon. That was on me. It was my biggest mistake. The things that I did, I did because I grew desperate. It consumed the totality of my being. From the moment that we met, I was sure that my life had begun, that that was it. My life found meaning and purpose. The joy and the pain eventually came, but I grew complacent. We were meant to be together, I thought. None of us could have anti...

Baby steps. Tiny tiptoes coming from a grown boy. Pretentious cocksucker looking for a jive shave. Tomorrow is the first day out in a long while, as if the planet just lost its gift of sunshine. And don't mention anything about the sunshine, because there ain't got one when she's gone. Despite the blunder I'm slowly surviving, finding and inching my way out from the misery. Whatever remained of the memories remain etched in history. Nothing too important, nothing too shabby. Just a pile of sadness waiting to erode, one-by-one because she's gone. Westminster Pier. Make something happen. Birthdays come and pass. Little memories come and gone. New people, new sadness, new trauma. I say, " Bring it on ."  No. The only cause of euphoria now is slow acceptance for this tragedy. I learnt to love and live the tears and pain. Her face inhibits my soul, and I know, it's really over. It's really fucking over. The hardest button I'd ever h...

Just came back from my visit, and here are some bloopers and non-bloopers that I personally have experienced: Jjimjilbang: Nothing prepared me for what I had experienced. I did not know anything about it, nor was I familiar what was in store until someone told me you can spend a night there for cheap. As a foreigner, it was really intimidating and awkward. Every single time I make a mistake (like forgetting to remove shoes) was like a open grenade that I had just swallowed. What is it with Koreans (older women especially) and their tendency to shy away whenever a foreigner such as me passes by. I have experienced this every single day. Like, say, a flyer or a coupon handler in a street labours on with their work, and then all of a sudden act like I'm invisible whenever I pass by and decide outright that I have no need for their services. It goes on without saying that this also happens with other foreigners as well. Staring. Head to toe creepy fucking eyes making me turn my ...

The clock rewinds, my pattern of sleep reverts. Ten to three I labour awake while everyone else fades. The other side of the planet serves their luncheons, enjoying a momentous date; smiles flicker with reflections coming from the fluorescent bulb; yellow and acidic, torturous and barbaric. A smile is worth a day's notice; a privilege that I can no longer afford. I wake up, blood pumping, to the beats of the pulse, "Where is she?" No longer to be seen, much harder to be felt. It felt as if all the remaining goodness in me had been torn asunder. Yes, the end is neigh, but the pain is eternal. A broken-hearted man leaves no room to grow; the love we shared shall always remind.