Lazy from C-Z

That is, if Floyd Mayweather, Jr. and company ends up co-owning the Los Angeles Clippers from the big bozo, Donald Sterling. It's like choosing to have a castration or a beheading. In the end, heads will roll.

\ [+] / 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.

Still here, alive, nothing works. I'd be lying if I say I'm moving on. Nothing moves on. I yearn and yearn. Constantly. I torture myself endlessly, banging my head on solid ground. Is it because I am so deeply in love with her? It's brutal, this love is. My love for her, I feel, is eternal. What was done was done, Amie. Nothing else matters, and I'd give up everything to be with her one last chance -- not that I haven't already -- and yet, all is seemingly lost. Lost like a falling petal in a forest with no one in sight. Like a bird caught swimming in a swamp, haunted by the ghouls of the arborical bogs that catches our hero unawares.

Any way the wind blows. I've been dealt a strong hand here. Celebratory days affect me the most. It started with the fireworks festival in Busan. Halloween came and nothing. Pepero Day pierced me within me like a sod on a spike. If a corkscrew could tighten a grip over the situation between me and my life, I'd be drowned in a bottle of grape juice. Nothing prepared me for anything. Living spontaneously is a hit and miss. It went on until Christmas and New Year. I went home as a bottle of bitter tears clinging to the rage and hopes and fears that keep me alive. Tomorrow is Valentines. What use is it now to worry about its significance. Pepero Day was the same. I remember the look upon the mother when she found me from behind the glass door. She was stressfully dialling for someone, I don't know who. But from then on, time slowly greased away from my grasp tenfold. Weeks passed without any update. I was left to rot without a chance to know why. Tomorrow I wonder ...

Apparently there isn't anything particularly of interest for me back here in London. It's been a week or two since my return and it hasn't contributed to my ever-improving feeling of longingness for that one person. I try to stir something in me, but so far nothing has helped. There is no sign of depression, only a weird sense of wanting to find a valuable friendship with someone, anyone. Nothing. And it seems to me that there is no sense of interest coming from the world to do just that. So I contribute to myself however way I can, making sure that my sanity stays intact for the remainder of my days. I try not to think of the other party -- I'm pointing my finger at Mioseon -- but most of the time it only reminds me how much I still want an answer. The why to my now, and even though my rage is still fresh, some part of me still wants that sweet, masochistic hardship back into my life, while she now revels in an orgy of self-fulfilling happiness. She finally figure...

We see our hero fall from grace He was ne'er happy in the first place He sits and loathes and kneads the pain He drives and feeds himself insane His love has flown away from him She left him cold as ice and dim She never even said goodbye She stole his phone without a why

Year-ender

Hampstead  

I woke up in a PC stall on the first day of January. Apparently I had been incapacitated the night before from a drunken stupor. I have no recollection of what had happened the night before, only that Rina and who I believe is Mischa brought me in there to rest. Atrocious.   Back to reality. New year, new melancholy.   What can I do now in this city? I only have two weeks remaining. Mioseon feels so far away.

Smiles wherever, smiles are free. Jungle life for the Christmas tree. Blue moon, blue sod, blue wind; fighting through the flesh, diminishing strength, and solidifying procrastination. Nampo-dong, how I miss thee. A cup of cake, a Red Velvet, and an ever-friendly face. Is it true? You are my saviour, my light, when all else faded. Why. Why you. Why did it have to be you? How close was I to sin when the tape ran smooth on my prickly and battered fingers? Weeks and weeks I laboured, and weeks I endured the wrath of longing. The moth torched her wings when I ignited it ad hoc. It was not my intention. It was all for the subject of love.  And now it's over. The lights have come. We run away from things which we quickly realise are nothing but herrings. Christmas in Nampo-dong is for love and healing; but my heart is reeling, and my tears are killing. It's over now. Or is it? Is it the love that I feel which is inextinguishable? Mioseon. Charm. Tough as nails; colla...

It gets easier. But not as easy and as perfect as the fantasy shapes itself to be. Hardly anything that comes out of the horse's mouth turns into an orgasmic shape of affection and trust but instead of travesty and more torture. To top it all off, I clamour for the next high, or low, depending on one's point of view. It's mental exhaustion. I don't think January is a time where goodbyes will become a forlorn thing. Indecisiveness, which has quite intermittently become a common denominator of my minute existence, serves as the main catalyst for the recipe of disaster that is about to be concocted. And every single person I meet over the course of these three months will become an accessory to this vile foolishness. I went to Lzone again to pass my time. Having no cash with me is a primary reason to go about it. It was well worth it. I learned a couple of pointers on how to go about the remaining days of my stay here. Who knows where that takes me? Nothing makes ...

  The Happiest Me 

2:46 AM here. What am I doing? I have no fucking clue. What's my plan? I have no fucking clue. What am I waiting for? A miracle, that's what I'm waiting for. A goddamn miracle.   There is no light at the end of the tunnel for me in this city, and yet I clamour every single day for two months now. What it is that I am searching for I always tell Rina that it's destiny that I'm waiting for, bursting from the tip of my tongue and into my heart, to calm the nerves and to waver my suffering from this godawful situation. Like Johnny in Naked , I gallivant to allow the opportunity of life to pass me by, to give meaning to the bits and pieces of nothingness that surround not just me but everyone else around me. It's funny, sometimes I want to lean to God for guidance, but what can that do the reality of the situation. If it was meant to be, it's going to happen either way.   Will I ever hear from Mioseon again? I was watching old videos of us in Youtube. A...

Hi there.   It's been a weird week for me over here in Busan. Literally nothing happened. No memories made whatsoever. I spent it all thinking about heartbreaks and miseries hiding in a hole within a stall in Seomyeon. Penniless and free, there is nothing productive about me at all. I'm dreaming of winning it all, winning the world over, winning Mioseon back. Winning mostly the impossible, I guess.   Christmas is coming soon. How can an alien fool like me spend it in the warm company of this city? The dry cold has nothing to offer but regrets, mulling and weeping over past mistakes. 2013 has been the worst year so far in my life. Love makes everything so complicated and painful. Tomorrow comes a new weekend and nothing awaits me but envy. Why should I be envious of other people's joy? Why is everyone seemingly so gleeful despite the cruel hams of this glorious local society? I met people on Monday that may matter, but not in the long run. My trousers haven't ch...

Sabrina and I are finding a way to go to Seoul with minimal costs for just a short amount of time. A Christmas visit, 'tis all. Bored out of our wits, I would say. There are plenty of things in Busan but nothing that concerns us now. I have no clue what to do and even as we speak I find myself stuck inside a PC bang here in Seomyeon for almost 36 hours now straight. I need to find a way to return to my Hobbiton soon. Desolation of Smaug is coming to theatres soon. It was almost yesterday when me and Mioseon watched the first film at Odeon in Leicester Square. It was a lovely evening. Lately I've been binging on Jeeves and Wooster to pass my time. Cheerio.