Superstitions

Sometimes, I really do wonder if things really are the result of my own actions. Yes, I am someone who blames myself easily because I always feel there's more to what I can do and achieve.

But, is this pain in the head the cause of my own actions? The one where I've built these brick walls around me.

I can't really blame myself, because I learn from my own experiences, so do most of us. And a lot of these walls hold the blood I've shed. The one I've given throughout my whole journey with certain people.

Yes, it still haunts me. A lot of things do, and it's not easy to hold back when it comes gushing down like the Niagara. It's really an unstoppable task.

These walls, these fucking walls, have given me a lot of security and warmth. It has, also, blocked out a lot of good I could have received if I was smart enough.

I'm torn in between right now. Answers, I can't seem to get any. Excuses, I don't have the will to explain it no longer. For now, I'm really caught between posts.

Try stopping the Niagara. Just try.

Prodigal's Son

It really seems as though happiness, isn't really my cup of tea. Wait, before you go all judgmental on my claim, please, allow me to explain it.


It seems as though the happiness I've been experiencing is one of a superficial kind. It's filled with joy and glee I receive while I'm in the moment. It is, in simple terms, non-lasting.

It's not something I particularly enjoy, especially when I have to deal with the annoying hangover and partially deaf ears. And I feel that I do better when I'm mellow and, sorta artistically depressed. Because that's when I get motivated and I get to see the world in a better light, albeit it might be a little emo-ish in some peoples' eyes.

I'm looking for happiness. I still am, and I won't stop. I'm looking for the everlasting kind. The kind that will not make me feel like shit the next day.

I won't stop looking for it. I won't stop wanting it.

Prodigal

"Run away, run away, run, like a prodigal." - OneRepublic

Mistakes. Many, so many of them. Worst of all, same mistakes being repeated.

But how? How do you not do it? How do you not allow people into your life?

How can I do it? How can I not allow people to be in my life? It seems like an almost impossible task. And I don't want to sit here one day knowing I've done it successfully, because it will probably be the day where all's lost. The day, when all of my hopes are gone.


It'll be a tragic day. A day where my sun rises from the west and sets in the east. The day where, ice cold winters and droughts would cover the Earth. Tsunamis' rise, it'll wipe the whole my world apart.

And the sad part, life still goes on. The real world, the one which I apparently do not live in, would still revolve around the invisible axis. The earth will still spin, bees will still sting people and go hunting for nectar, while pollinating beautiful flowers, lions will still remain as the lazy fuckers that they are. Life, still goes on. It's sad, but it's a fact.

When I die, I want the world to die with me. It's selfish, but at least, I'm not alone. Justifiable?

Jellyfish

I'm scared. This fear, it's just paralysing me.

I'm fighting, so hard. Fighting, so much, to push this away.

Maybe I should face it.

I think I am facing it. I'm trying so many ways to get out of this. All this quietness, it's just ripping me to shreds. Cause I need answers. I need them.

This fear, it feels like a jellyfish sting. It burns at first, and then, the venom seeps into your bloodstream, travelling through your body. Slowly, paralysing you. Till you're floating like a dead fish.

Breakfast @ 1317

"Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry." - Radiohead

Another good book title? Yes, I can come up with a few, and honestly, thank goodness it sounds better than most Asian authors. At least to me it does.

It's the same with band names. You take Asian band names and compare it to their westers counterparts; It's nowhere as creative and unique-sounding as non-asian bands.

We're too limited in our thinking. I mean, maybe our physical movement can be limited, but it's happening mentally as well. I just don't enjoy knowing that as a fact. And yes, I'm talking about the country I hail from.

It's mediocre. The way we're brought up. At the end of the day, this country wasn't build for us. It never was. Industrialisation back in the 60s of the 20th century was done to exhibit how good an investment it would be for foreign firms to set up their businesses here. It started all the back in the 60s, progressed "humbly" to the 80s and 90s where the big boom of foreign firms came into play.

Nothing has changed. Now, they've got the developed Sentosa, the resorts, the events. All to cater, and attract foreigners. The locals hardly go to places like these. It's like, they're telling us in a subtle way that Western is the way to go, it's always the way to go, and Westerners are the ones we should strive to be.

It's not that I disagree. In fact, I agree wholeheartedly, to a certain extent. I tend to look up to the western philosophy a lot more than the Asian ones. I feel that I fit in there more. And I can totally adapt to the lifestyle, because it is a life. It's not all about slugging it out everyday and night to make ends meet, which is the Asian way. And us Asians think it's being lazy not to. Wrong. It's living life, cause life ain't all about work and no play. For me it isn't.

This life we're living, it's only limiting us. Cause the mind is such a beautiful thing; It can give you freedom, without any social stigmas, without any regimental restrictions.


"The guy next to you might be smiling, but for all you know, he's telling you to fuck off." - The Beautiful Mind, having breakfast, @ 1317.

Dunked In

"The sky was bruised, the wine was bled." - Audioslave

It's been a while since I've been here, pouring my soul out into these blank pages. Reason? As always, there's one. And this time, it's because I've been suppressing my feelings all this while.

I've been constantly forcing myself to not stoop low again, because it's really enough. I've had enough of long dark night and cold shivering loneliness. But it's unavoidable; I am someone who's very in touch with my feelings, and as much as I try to mask it, the mask peels away eventually, revealing who I really am.

I have been troubled recently. Seems like, happiness is like a drug that lasts only as long as it does. And when it's effects, beautiful superficial effects, have worn off, I'm this tainted slate again, with mould and patches all over. Still, it happens. The happiness I'm chasing is a lifestyle I wanna live by, and this lifestyle seems far away, as it always have been.

Still, I'll reach it. I know I would. And I have to stop the habit of blowing things out of proportion. Sometimes, things really are as simple as it looks; I'm just too skeptical to believe so. Idiot.


So, I have been talking to someone recently. It might probably be nothing. I guess it always has been. What's new? It's the same, broken record player all over again. I'm not getting my hopes high, and I'm forcing myself not to set expectations, cause invariably it has always let me to the big D. Disappointment.

Still, the writing is on the wall. But I can't allow this to influence me. It's good companionship, and it's good, err, good. She's pretty, sweet, patient with my silly antics, and one with a good heart. But they all have been, or so I thought. And all they did, was tear my heart apart. Like it was a fuckin' piece of paper.

If you're reading this, remember, we all make mistakes. What's most important is to realise them, and to be sure we don't make 'em again. Easier said, but it's doable.

My mistake? I allow people to use me, and then refuse me. But, it's me. And it ain't gonna change that much.


Nothing's certain in life. cause when it is, it only leads to complacency

Apparently my favourite line these days.

Mr. Envy Green

I just need someone to talk to. Cause my mind's filled with so much.

It was nice to have her for those few nights, a long time ago. Cause she just sits and listens to me, giggling, and smiling shyly to everything little thing I had to say, silly or not. And it felt like home. Like how I want it to be. Of course, she was always entitled to opinions. She never used that entitlement though, she didn't see a need to. She preferred listening to the blabbering I spewed out.

I could really use a drink now. Just a nice slow one. A nice crisp gold. With the ice clinging the glass whenever I reach out and bring it closer. When you see it twirl with every circular motion you make it makes you feel at ease, like a whirlpool, sucking everything within it's reach, into the lower abyss.

I'm Mr. Green, and I need someone to talk to. As always, I do.