mi mi mirakuru miracle
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Let sleeping gods lie.
smiled at the sun again @ 6:26 PM,
,
take (death) note
You cannot judge a person's conformity by their context of what is a watch-able anime. :D
smiled at the sun again @ 11:21 AM,
,
yes! shiawase
A was lying under the comfort of the trees, shying away from the intense heat of summer, or what's left of it. The butterflies were gone, the birds have flown somewhere else, and the trees remained perfectly still, as the summer breeze was now gone. By the looks of it, the sun was tired of shining throughout the stretch of summer, and it's time for him to have a little rest, and the boy smiled at that thought, because it mean it was time for his rest as well. The boy unconsciously played with the ends of his hair, his head slumped carelessly on the trunk of the tree behind him, and his legs crossed over each other, totally unaware of the light buzzing of his surroundings. And with that, the boy dozed off without hesitance.
The boy bolted upright, when he felt the warm presence leaving him, and tiny drops came into contact with his nose, then his lips, then his closed eyes. The boy's vision was hazy, and his ears were filled with an easy but continuous tapping sound, and it clicked to the boy - it was raining. It formed a soft mist around him, hence he couldn't make out his surroundings, and the boy did not dare budge from his position. It was just as soothing as summer used to be - the steady rapping sound of raindrops on leaves, the softened grass, and the cool feel of water trickling one everything in sight - so there was no point in leaving his spot. The boy did curl up closer to the tree though, he didn't want his feet to soak to much, and be covered in mud.
It was only now that he realized that summer had fully ended, and the rainy season had come in. He hadn't said goodbye to summer properly. He hadn't thought of the fact that he was going to see less of the sun now, and more of the clouds and rain.
It's time for the sun to rest and hide behind the blankets of the clouds, while rain happily poured and played with the rest of humanity.
"But I'm not 'the rest of humanity'" they boy whispered to no one. Sadness mingled with the trickling rain water.
And the boy woke up. He felt the summer heat still tingling in his skin, meaning the sun was still somewhere around. Happily, he stood up, wanting to say goodbye to the sun, and the whole of summer, but his head was split into two with pain when he stood up. While was patting his bumped head, he heard a soft laugh, and looking up, he was submerged into a pool of dark brown. Eyes were looking unblinkingly at the boy's eyes, and the beholder was also smirking, rather evilly. The boy was the first to blink, and where the beholder of dark brown eyes was was replaced with two dark spots, almost wet-looking. And summer ended, and the boy never wanted it to come to a close in any other way.
Summer says, "Remember."
smiled at the sun again @ 10:28 AM,
,
forty winks
Monday, May 28, 2007
Stick figures don't fall. Stick figures don't break. Stick figures don't disappear. Therefore, stick figures are not autumn leaves.
smiled at the sun again @ 8:46 PM,
,
forgot this
You also get a fistful of reality smack you across the face, and your black eyeliner is scratched. Boo-hoo.
smiled at the sun again @ 8:44 PM,
,
a piece of peace for peas
Everyone has the tendency to commit suicide inside them, however psychologically and emotionally calm they are, therefore, writing down suicide as the cause of death will not result to a failure of the death note's powers.
A boy jumps off of a two-story building, in hopes of dying, but also in hopes of being saved by the one he loves. He hits the pavement foot first. He crushes his lower body, but he lives. He screams in pain. A truck runs over his head. Oh, the love.
See, this is what people get for being emo. YOU DIE. :D
smiled at the sun again @ 8:01 PM,
,
silent reaper
L's dead.
...THIS IS TEH HAPPIEST DAE OF MY LIFELOLHAXXORZO!!!one!1!1!
Who needs reputation when you're the god of the new world? :D
smiled at the sun again @ 7:57 PM,
,
musou no fuka
Sunday, May 27, 2007
I brought out my set of acrylic paint and a few hairless brushes, and my rather abused white, high-cut chucks outside. It was sunny, and it was hot as hell. I could feel sweat drops trailing the ends of my chunked hair. A drop creates a dark spot on the off-white right shoe. Even with the vindictive reason, I still wipe the endless drops. I lay down everything on the open field, and I plant myself under a nice shady spot. And the drawing starts.
Somehow, I gained a natural ability to draw at the thought of a certain thing. Every time I soaked the tip of the brush into a color of acrylic paint, there was something to draw into the skin of the shoe, and when I look at the end product, I let out a little sigh. But I won't stop there, and I put a little bit more effort into filling up every space with the overflowing train of thought.
The pair of shoes were now very much different from their previous form, not dirty-white, but almost black, striped and spotted and seemingly splattered with viciousness. Where a hole aged for a year, was replaced with a tattoo of a swirling ray of light, with an overlapping bandaid.
"Done!" I say out loud. And summer never looked so happy to end.
Shenanigans!
smiled at the sun again @ 10:30 PM,
,
embedded on a reverse-edged sword
each of us
represents
a star
in the sky;
sometimes
we shine
with the rest..
sometimes
we twinkle
alone..
and sometimes..
we fall and makes someone's
dream come true.
-
I would rather not believe in such things. It's the root of all false hope.
The sun's a star. It never fell and made my dream come true.
Bitter? You bet your ass I am. I admit weakness.
smiled at the sun again @ 10:16 PM,
,
gadamet
Stupid monitor. Stupid net.
smiled at the sun again @ 10:09 PM,
,
dae
I was gonna write something, but I feel like doing no.2 right now. Be right back. Like, 30 minutes. Or an hour. Damn, I'm sick.
smiled at the sun again @ 11:58 AM,
,
i seriously need a new hobby
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Conceited.
smiled at the sun again @ 7:58 PM,
,
i AM weird
I need to find the stop button of dreams.
smiled at the sun again @ 7:55 PM,
,
201: you make me wanna
Many times, I've thought about things that made me 'hmm' a lot. I know, everyone has those moments, but I am beyond normal in the sense that I put too much effort on thinking about these 'hmm' things that I strain myself (still like everyone else) to the point of frustration (still like everyone else, again), to the point of hurting myself (normal for others: head, mine:well.. other stuff). No, I don't do blades (gross), and/or anything unhealthy, just leaving myself rather sore all over. Damned body, betraying my whim. And now, another 'hmm' thought.
The rain. It's soothing. It's mind-softening. It's.. crappy when you're wearing pants and flops/slippers and puddles of water and/or sewage juice and/or mud are everywhere. Stuck at the waiting shed, without an umbrella, without a jacket, without a newspaper, stuck at the waiting shed, cold and shaking and numb from all the running and wetting of skin and clothes. It's crappy, it's shitty, it's an experience to hate. But the cool-off after would be another thing, and perhaps a week's worth of cold, and that, I, for one, am grateful for. But then it's crappy and shitty and another thing to hate again, 'cause my mind is bound to wander off into dreamy/nightmarey land.
Because of this rain, I missed some useless..thing. A meet-up, perhaps. Am I complaining, or am I grateful for it? I don't know. Hmm. See? At times like these, I let myself go, or at least, lose my mind somwhere along the line, and then I end up with dilated irises and a frothing mouth. Urgh. I can't believe I just thought of that. Hmm. It sucks to be in here, without anything to do (the cable's out), but it also sucks to be there (yes, there) with having pretty much the same thing, plus the booze, maybe. I'm in it for the food (though I wrote booze around 4 times before typinng this), and the drinks (not the booze, water.. and stuff), and.. me shutting the hell up. Same thing at home. And the rain. Ugh, the rain. Anyway, it's the usual stuff, happening and everything, a few catch-ups and a round of hearty laughter, then silence, awkwardness, and best of all, the leering and the smirking. Oh how I love to grin at the slow tapping and soft pitter-pattering outside. It takes my mind of off things, when I am in the thing that I'd hate to be in (and thus, having no sense at all), and it gives me the power to be indifferent of certain things I try to and must ignore, the company, the sideway glance, the awful, awful smirk, and that slight tingling sensation that I get. Rain is my anesthesia, my sleeping pills, my overdose of serotonin. And the world becomes my playing ground, and I my head droops ungracefully to the left. Mm, warm. Rain, I hate you so, so much.
Rain, thank you.
smiled at the sun again @ 7:06 PM,
,
200th post
Marked.
And it doesn't take one to know one, it takes a little bit of envy to know one.
smiled at the sun again @ 5:18 PM,
,
lolthatscreepykthxbai
Giggle and sing, and i'll kill you. :D
smiled at the sun again @ 4:06 PM,
,
i leave no mark
Thursday, May 24, 2007
High school was so.. high school. D'oh. Squatters alike.
smiled at the sun again @ 12:24 AM,
,
empire of the sun
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
I shan't tear away along the perforations, and the lines will remain awry until the first experience of flight.
smiled at the sun again @ 8:20 PM,
,
satirical child
So long, farewell, Au'voir, auf wiedersehen,
I'd like to stay and taste my first champagne
So long, farewell, Auf wiedersehen, goodbye,
I leave and heave a sigh and say goodbye,
Good bye
I'm glad to go,
I cannot tell a lie.
I flit, I float,
I fleetly flee, I fly.
The sun has gone to bed and so must I
So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye,
Goodbye,
Goodbye,
Goodbye!
smiled at the sun again @ 8:18 PM,
,
macabre and horror
Photoshop therapy, please.
smiled at the sun again @ 6:40 PM,
,
night life
Gummy bears stick together, even if you pull them by the head. Poor gummy bears.
Oh, and sit on a quarter to hatch it into a dollar. Official way of getting rich. OFFICIAL, as stated by that cynide comic strip.
smiled at the sun again @ 6:31 PM,
,
panic attack
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
By the looks of it, I'm the only one worried. Dead; I'M DEAD. ._.
smiled at the sun again @ 7:20 PM,
,
moody mood moodies
Monday, May 21, 2007
Green eyes bind the facial expression of what's become. Eyelashes seem to have grown out of proportion, projecting an image of two beautiful black widows studded with Zircon gemstones on their backs. Not quite Malachite, not yet at least, lined with black streaks, bursting forth and outreaching, the binding tentacles show no mercy and trap the resounding scream into silence, and the widening irises into seduction. A tap in the inner caverns of lies and deceit, and a grave sin devours the entity contained within. That is to say, to fill the void that was long lost, and replace insanity with something else, something that's cause for infidelity and naivety, something called jealousy.
Show no mercy. Show no form of conformity. Show nothing.
smiled at the sun again @ 8:38 PM,
,
smile dk!
| Cansei de ser sexy said: let's make love and listen to death from above |
See, I told you it can kill. One petal too late.
smiled at the sun again @ 8:10 PM,
,
easy breezy
Sometimes, saying 'all you need is love' is a frilled up term for 'you're a loser'.
smiled at the sun again @ 7:00 PM,
,
LOL
These are my thoughts. Read on, or fuck off.
... forgot my random number. Wait. It's 114. Hmm. Early, early, fun fun. I didn't realize mdaqs was right next to me.
... stop the shifting flow. Makes me wanna go along with it, but I can't, not that I don't want to, but I can't, academically speaking. Ahaha, so sad.
... it's already way, WAY, past my bedtime. Damned toffee vanilla.
... Kachoo ee stands for very cool. Shout it.
... Someone's shifted to AB ID from AB IS. HAHA. Gotcha, moron.
... Give me a little credit, I'm not called a stalker and weird people out for nothing. Skate for the win?
... Damn you, I need to shift now!
... Then again, maybe not.
... Indecisive, much?
... It's a deep dive down there. DEEP. Read: D-E-E-P.
... Missed Shrek 3 for some lame ass reunion. LOL. Sorry dear classmates, I loathe you all. Nyuu~
... Bit Torrent's only 45-60kbps fast when it's around this time. Stupid time zone.
...
...
... There's no more.
... Sleep, yay.
smiled at the sun again @ 1:23 AM,
,
just like before
Will you catch me when I fall?
No, ditz.
... meanie.
I really couldn't care less.
That's sad.
For you, maybe.
Figured that out yourself, genius?
Yeah, and the fact that I'd never really catch you when you fall, because you WON'T fall while I'm around.
***
Summer Seaweed!
smiled at the sun again @ 1:09 AM,
,
freak accident
Though it's physically impossible, I witness, for the 17th time, the red skies run aghast.
smiled at the sun again @ 1:06 AM,
,
dakishimete
For the love of everything sweet and sugary, please stop the nasty ringing in my head. Flower and pink, plus chocolate and brown, that's it. It's the wrong mix, and like hell will anyone find it in a shot (okay, maybe some would). But I remember uttering silent words of offering, and though I highly doubt and ignore that little fact, it's not exactly what I want, nor what the person I'm giving it to wants. It's almost 1am and I just woke up, and I don't know why, but it's somewhere there, and I try no to think about it, but the blotches from my sight are only pink and brown, instead of the bubble-glare color. I don't know how I'm typing this with all the foreground illusions clouding my view. Anyway, I have not changed my mind. No pinks and browns for me, or for anyone else for that matter. So bitch, stop me. Before I decide to make skunk roadkill out of anyone.
Mmm, yummy.
smiled at the sun again @ 12:52 AM,
,
meep
Yuki = boy? Creepy.
smiled at the sun again @ 12:49 AM,
,
mint, no, orange! ... BANANA!
Sunday, May 20, 2007
HAHA, I laugh. In your face. Drunk, disorderly, and as wrong as it is, I win. Nobody dares me into anything risky without getting a handful of bitch slapping and/or an upfront in-your-face moment. Punks. Die.
smiled at the sun again @ 10:16 PM,
a thing called 'stop'
This is the first time I've really felt like vomiting.
smiled at the sun again @ 10:00 PM,
,
hand injuries
Saturday, May 19, 2007
It's like, "kiss me, or die trying".
It's time to keep words inside your mouth
And let none escape the edges of dry, crisp lips.
Though the heart beats in tune with the clock
There's no need for you to paint the putrid lanes red.
It's time to keep tears from falling
And let none escape the watery crevices of bloodshot eyes.
Though the nerve strives to throb and implode
There's no need for your blood to run down your cheeks.
It's time to free the binding grip of your hands
And let the daffodils fall in their demure art of flying.
Though cheap, overused blades cut through like refined diamonds
There's no need for cold, dead fingers to feel and interlock with yours.
It's time to let go.
And let one wound heal in place of another.
Though hard as it is,
There's no sense in wanting the lost.
Say goodbye to your deepest dreams.
smiled at the sun again @ 8:53 PM,
,
everafter's descent
I AM AN INSANELY JEALOUS PERSON, AND I FEEL LIKE CRYING SHATTERED PIECES OF GLASS.
Emo doesn't taste too good. Bleh.
smiled at the sun again @ 12:09 AM,
,
deadbeat
Thursday, May 17, 2007
It's the way things go, so steal another soul without looking back, and you will become immortal. Fly, bitch, fly.
*pretending to be an angel, but is using the wings of a mutilated fowl to bear the urge of flight and dominance.
smiled at the sun again @ 7:30 PM,
,
egao
I smiled today when Andrew E. went on a The Hills Have Eyes 2 spree on our village's trike terminal.
smiled at the sun again @ 7:05 PM,
,
bitch rant. bitch.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
I raise my finger, in anticipation of the next flash of light and frozen time. I slightly turn the onyx casing encircling, and a glare shines through for a moment, and loses all luminescence as quick as it had come. Ah, my left hand shakes from too much strain on the wrist. I change my hand positions and shake the weakened one to circulate some blood into it. There, much better. I swap the hands back to their original positions, and focus a little more on the little yellow box on the middle. Focus, focus. Good. There's a nice shot, take it. Three, two, one, click. Meh, it's all blurry and washed up. Try again. Three, two, one, click. The flash didn't go off. Maybe it's the lighting? No? See, it's on "auto", put it on "M". Yeah, there. Okay, one more. Three, two, one, click. Hey, you didn't look, nyao~ron. Meep.
When in experiencing a near-death experience, don't flash your life before you, jump, run, or just get the hell out of danger's way.
smiled at the sun again @ 11:25 PM,
,
cauSCILAB it, yeah
I can't stop thinking. It's just an announcement of the once-expected things to come, and now here it is, and I really couldn't care less. Now, that, that's lying, because it bugs me this much, and it must mean something. Somewhere along the way, I've been thinking about putting my thoughts into words, and as it easy as it sounds, when I direct the train of thought to a focal point, an embodiment of all these ramblings, a someone, I'm condemned to a blank paper, and an empty brain. But I wanted to say many things, and write dramatically as the time ticked by, words upon words landing on top of each other, as I use all up the remaining spaces of the tattered paper. And to everybody else, it would mean nothing but a scratch paper, covered in doodles and whatnot, but to me, it's what my world is crumbling into, a pile of useless mush, a mountain of constrained thoughts, pieces of memories, and I guess, it's a different you. For now at least.
smiled at the sun again @ 10:30 PM,
,
9 years
I don't know you, and I'm smiling, but I'm sorry, and I can't say anything.
smiled at the sun again @ 7:44 AM,
,
wind, vanilla and the color yellow
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Instructions:
1. Choose brand of gum. Bazooka, Judge, Pintoora, Rugby and the like.
2. Discard the wrapping of gum. For Rugby users, please inhale scent to satisfaction, or till mind fuzzes.
3. Chew gum until taste wears off. Not tested on Rugby.
4. Blow bubble. If you can't, you're a goddamned loser. Go eat powdered milk, or green peppers.
5. Blow bubble to a dangerous size (by dangerous, I mean close to exploding).
6. Choose any of the three: continue to blow until it pops and makes a bubble gum face, suck the air in, pinch end of gum near the mouth and let it fly away.
You have just been duped, and have made yourself the mockery of insanity. Or not. Meh.
smiled at the sun again @ 5:47 PM,
,
ngurngur
Fear, strikes the heart fierce, goes through the throat and/or wrist with Apollo's twist.
smiled at the sun again @ 5:41 PM,
,
stargazers and dynamos
Monday, May 14, 2007
I can dance.
I really can. As a child, I was taught by grandparents (from both paternal and maternal sides) how to cha cha. Yes, that's the repetitive step forward-step backward switacharoo type of dance. It was simple, and I could do it all day long. I could have done something great, like win a contest with my female partner, or even just own 15 seconds worth of camera time, but no, I am shy, so I dance when I am not watched by others. It's died down, this talent for dancing cha cha, and now I'm less coordinated as a rock. But you know, I'd really give up cha cha anytime, just to waltz for another chance. It's a different thing, heck, I may not even have the slightest idea of what a waltz is (all I'm thinking right now are robots and japanese bishies), but I'd do it anyway, just for another chance, another chance for me to shine, another chance for me to shine brightly, bright enough for you to at least a sideways glance. And that's all there is to it.
Everything stolen is the best there is.
I stole candies as a kid, every time we went to the supermarket for groceries. It's not that I knew it was stealing, and it gave me the thrill of getting away with it, no. I always thought the candies that were conveniently put near the cashiers, along with the toothbrushes and batteries of different sizes, were for free. Some sort of "thank you for your patronage, here's your free candy, battery, and toothbrush, please come again" marketing strategy. And it's funny, I think, of the numerous times I've thieved the gumlets and lollies, I always saw a cashier smiling at me. It was more of an encouragement more than a warning for my crime. So I get away with it, happy, and in sugar-induced bliss. There's nothing to it. I've stolen someone else's homework (that is, I copied it without permission), I've stolen someone else's socks and shoes (that is, I wore it without permission), and a lot of other things, but what you didn't know, is that I've already stolen something from you, and it was the best thing I've ever done in my life. It was easy, it was totally out of the moment, it was sleepy time, it was the last thing I would ever do. So sleep, don't wake up like sleeping beauty did, for I am not a prince, nor a frog that would become a prince, I am a wisp of eternal thought, bound by your ethereal manner of feeling. It's like what that song said about a rose, only, I drink blood for the morning after.
Love is not lost, because it is not love if it is lost. You call it a child's stupidity.
smiled at the sun again @ 12:13 PM,
,
quick
Sunday, May 13, 2007
I hesitate, therefore I think, and not do.
And not doing is bad.
smiled at the sun again @ 11:03 PM,
,
translate, please
Saturday, May 12, 2007
I hate having to think, specifically, to think of things in this manner but..
Angels do not exist. Human selfishness does.
smiled at the sun again @ 10:18 PM,
,
the alter ego
It's 3:10am, sleep is being shy, and my chest is churning. I feel like if someone were to look inside, they'd find a frothy ocean with an intricate network of torrential whirlpools, synchronized with every pulse of my heart. And if someone were to look inside my heart, they'd find you and your eyes. You've got the most beautiful eyes, you know.
- hoshi tame no taiyou
smiled at the sun again @ 10:14 PM,
,
hoshi
Trivia:
Little things, compared to you. And yet, I sparkle at night, waiting to be overpowered by the night.
smiled at the sun again @ 9:41 PM,
,
super squatter to the rescue
I got this idea from a TV show. I think.
Highschool. It's were everything starts to be branded as "pre-" something. Pre-teen. Pre-menstrual. Pre-view of the real life. Pre-tend. Pre-ety much nothing. It's another prefix (and that's another "pre-") added to a child- oh, a pre-teen's vocabulary. Another injection to a common word. Another defining piece. Another title. It's the simple three little combination (besides G-O-D, anyways) that can change everything. Maybe I should add something to that: Pre-pare to get beaten into a nasty bloody pulp by reality, pre-teen.
It's the time when the simple, childish bliss of a perfect and sunny world is overshadowed by the menacing facts of growing another 4 years older, and entering puberty. Those who retain their insulated minds will suffer the most, as they'll be mercilessly stabbed at the back without them even knowing. And when they do realize this, it'll be worth something more than a hundred cowardly stabs - probably a mutilating strike from a bear's claws, clawing out the soft and bloody innards of the face, and turning it into a terrifying and horribly disfigured identity. The wounds will heal, but the face, the character, the identity - the person, will change, and will definitely be perceived differently by others.
Mistakes will be committed, alone or with the help of another or others, and though easily buried by time and a whole lot of other things, like memories and food, can easily be brought to attention, without a need for a catalyst. And along with it, scars, the changes made, will resurface as well, and well, it's up to the person to laugh it off, or let it pass, ignore it, or dwell on it for another few years. And from here, different titles are born yet again - the pretender, the ignorant, the emotional, the passive - and, well, this is where self-consciousness and those weird self-fulfilling prophecies come in.
Four years isn't a whole lot, but believe me, 9,600 hours spent in school will mean 34,560,000 seconds of possible misfortune and embarrassment. Every second will mean something, and could drastically affect the whole zen thing in you and possibly, the whole zen thing in you, 4 years from then on. It's all about changes really, and sometimes, it'll mean killing yourself inplace of another being, a someone else.
***
Anyone who knows a puppeteer? I need one, my strings seem to have been detached by my previous handler.
smiled at the sun again @ 8:58 PM,
,
now
Friday, May 11, 2007
die
smiled at the sun again @ 10:26 PM,
,
just like cinderella
You scare the shoes out of me. Scream, and then bubble. I can't look.
smiled at the sun again @ 10:24 PM,
,
Adams
Wednesday's child is full of woe.
Stark white, the jack springs to life.
Jibber jabber, twinkle tinkle doo
Goes the deafening metronome
"Hold me, grip the handle, and twist
Push me back into the darkness
And I shall meld into the shadows
to bring fake happiness another day."
It is no more.
smiled at the sun again @ 7:17 PM,
,
one down, one soon enough
I hear a cry, a howl, a scream - I don't know what, but it was definitely eerie. I rushed to a dark hallway and into a silent, and equally dark room. I stared at nothing for quite a long while I heard it again, the same sound of riveting sadness and pain, and I felt the nerves connected to my eyes throb as I strain to see into blindness. Light flickered inconsistently from somewhere, and there I saw the creepiest thing I've seen in my life. He was slumped in a corner of rubbish and concrete, and he was uncontrollably shaking. It wasn't entirely the fact that he was going into a seizure that freaked me out, but that he shook mercilessly and stared at me with blank eyes. I felt chilling goosebumps run me all over, and I couldn't move. I felt nothing for a minute, then something else, and then I was confused, because I wanted to do something, but I didn't move. The shaking continued, and he even bumped his head a few times to the nearby walls. I was quite sure he was going to die right after this seizure. No, I'm not a heartless person, but this is possibly the best way things could go, as this.. suffering couldn't possibly do him good, it'd prolong the pain. And still no, I'm not an advocate of Euthanasia. But this, this is an exception. I wanted him to die, it was almost more painful for me to watch him shaking madly than him actually suffering.
He stopped shaking. But there was still no life in his eyes. He was running to my direction. Fast. And I jumped out of his way, and he continued to run, until he rammed into another concrete wall. And again. And again. Every time he'd crack his head into another wall, I twitched incoherently. He stopped his aimless headbutting and slumped again, in a different dark corner. This time, I didn't hesitate to use my hands and pick him up from the shanty coverings. I held my right hand over his eyes, and carried him off to a comfortable shoebox. There he lied sleeping, breathing inconsistently, but in a peaceful slumber.
I am not scared of death, for myself and for others, but I am scared of the transition from life and death. I don't want to see anyone spurting blood or white bubbly liquid from their mouths, or screaming in shattering pain, or shaking madly, and then looking at me while they're in a suffering state. I really couldn't care less, but when they give me that blank, eerie look, things start to sink in pretty fast, and I don't even know what those things mean. So I shy away from the light of a deathbed and watch youtube or play American McGee's Alice.
I have to wash my hands. Oh, and he's running around me again.
smiled at the sun again @ 6:50 PM,
,
photoshop therapy
Films = Pictures
Pictures = Memories
Memories = Fail
FAIL.
smiled at the sun again @ 12:51 AM,
,
spiderman sucks
But the Sandman guy is totally Emo, and the butler owns all, and would become the next villain of the story. Seriously.
smiled at the sun again @ 12:37 AM,
,
what globe?
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
'Tis a sunny day. Everything seems the way it did yesterday - happy. Trees gave desirable shade to those reading newspapers near the bus stop, the flowers tendered by the local florist created the smell of sweet, sweet honey. Also, the town bakery smelled of hot choco and freshly baked bread, which seemed to have attracted quite a crowd. The birds chirped, the cars and buses honked and horned, the people, everybody that is, bustled, as the clock struck 8. It was an "everyday" day, and that's how the people liked it.
But there was one boy who did not do what he liked best - playing with his red firetruck - today, for he was enticed by something that was of interest to his eyes, something flashy, something that spurred brilliance and light. This boy was looking high above, beyond the skies. He had wondered what made the world so shiny and happy and bright everyday he woke up - he thought his mother had cooked it along with his breakfast of waffles, eggs, and milk, or it came with the newspaper boy's delivery of good news, or the his pet dog, Flux - and up until now, he had yet to amount to an answer. But now, here it is, the source of everything that's sparkly and bright, the circular ray of light, 'tis the sun. He'd already asked his parents, teachers, friends, even Flux about the sun. Everyone told him of its greatness, its importance to everyone - but only Flux told him how to become friends with the Sun. The canine told the boy of many things that'll make him an inch closer to it, but with every step taken, Flux warned the boy, for another step would mean another degree in the heat scale, and may result to the boy's hurting. But the boy was happy about it, too happy to take the warnings seriously. Thus, the boy gathered all his plastic toy blocks, and he surrounded himself with it. He started to put them on top of each other, creating a rising flight of stairs. People noticed the rising flight of stairs, but they didn't change their routinely manner of life for something that could disrupt their peace. And so they bustled during the day, sparing the boy a few seconds and looking at his arduous work, and then going back to their bustling, and spared the stairs again the a second or two as they rush back home for dinner.
Because the boy couldn't possibly finish the stairs in a day, he'd come home for dinner, and sleep after that, red firetruck all forgotten. The next day, he'd rush up to the stairs, bringing a few blocks to add to it, while people looked at him for a while, then continued on with their lives. The boy had a new routinely life, and it comprised of this tiring work of building a flight of stairs made of his toy blocks.
Summer ended, spring came, fall passed, and winter was now here. The boy was only a few blocks away, a day's work would finish the stairs. Winter came in hard and furious, but they boy never stopped, and never gave up on his stairs, even if it shook every now and then. The boy reached the top, and placed the final block, and he stepped on it. At last he was here, and he looked down, the town seemed like a dot now. He looked up, and the sun never looked so big and bright. When he tried to reach for it, he was hindered by something. It was something solid, but he couldn't see it. He knocked, then punched and kicked, and headbutted the transparent barrier. It seemed to have cracked a little bit.
The boy was sad. Everything seemed to sink in too fast for his brain, and soon he was getting dizzy. He hadn't thought it would turn out like this. His state weakened and he fell form the top of the blocks, but there was no scream. There were only tears.
"And here I thought that this was the perfect world."
And the snowglobe boy shattered into pieces, as everybody else melted into white smudges.
smiled at the sun again @ 9:11 PM,
,
say yeah
You live to love.
You love to give.
You give your love.
Your love is big.
Your big heart smiles.
Your smile is bright.
Your brightness blinds.
You're blind to spite.
You spite and hate (inside).
You hate to cry.
You cry to love.
Your love is fate.
Your fate is real.
You really try.
You try to love.
But to love, you'd die.
- Black Widow to future husbands
smiled at the sun again @ 8:10 PM,
,
splat
I stepped on something totally gross, wet, and hardly understandable, at its state. And no, it's not a human being.
smiled at the sun again @ 7:26 PM,
,
one of those
This was the saddest day. Ever.
Oh, who am I kidding? Death to all, yeah.
smiled at the sun again @ 7:18 PM,
,
tired
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
It's been a week, and I'm haunted by endearing images. Fleeting, almost invisible, but of greater significance to me more than anything. Is it something I must look into, or be aware of, or scared? I don't know really, and I try not to think. But everywhere else I look, I seem to see a little trail of golden dust. And when I follow them, they lead to condescending, brown eyes, and I am yet again, shattered into a thousand (not a million, 'cause I'm not big enough) pieces, and I shy away from the sunlight. This is how it begins and ends, and I am trapped in this routinely act of self-mutilation (not literally, you dope). So, I say, I don't care, and I give up, and I still do see you. Contradicting, yes, and that's the way I like it.
smiled at the sun again @ 9:48 PM,
,
Vectorized
Monday, May 7, 2007
I
made
a
shirt
design.
Yay.
- Feeling AB ID student
made
a
shirt
design.
Yay.
- Feeling AB ID student
smiled at the sun again @ 8:22 PM,
,
not properly functioning
A clock must be taken off the wall to eat away at a wooden box. So, dont be wasteful; an album of a cardboard heart beating without vinyl is a plagiarism of sound.
Tick, tock, time's a' wastin'.
smiled at the sun again @ 5:47 PM,
,
white chocolate malt
Sunday, May 6, 2007
I was dreaming. Slightly. That's possible, right? Somewhere in between the borders of consciousness and entering sleep, the part where everything is blurry. It's quite short, really, but that's the part where people remember the most, at least I think so.
So anyway, that part. I'm walking. Then I realize I'm walking on nothing, and just like those silly cartoons where they realize they're running beyond the edges of the cliff, I fall right down, though I don't feel it, I only see my clothing and my hair being ruffled angrily by the wind, which comes from god knows where. Before I knew it, I had already stopped, at least the animation of me falling had stopped, and I was walking again. I know I'm not walking on anything, but I'm not falling, so I guess I'm walking on something black. I was surprised when things started to grow from what's left of my trail. It was obscure, but nothing out of the ordinary, at least, in a dream. When I turned around to follow my previous trail, it became black again. Then I fall through a hole, and I still don't feel like I'm falling.
This time, you caught me. So I said, Fuck you, and I let go.
smiled at the sun again @ 1:40 PM,
,
pastel is a hue and a type of food
(I don't know about the hue part, maybe it's color, or scale, or whatever, something related to color)
I'm good at blocks. Hell, I block myself.
smiled at the sun again @ 1:36 PM,
,
new wave
EMO people don't dance. Peter Parker dances with EMO hair. That makes him stupid.
I dance. I'm not stupid (to that extent.. OMGWTFBBQLOLHAXXORZ). And I don't have THE hair.
Ha, I'm not EMO. 'Cause that's stupid, and I'm not, and I dance. I dance good. I mean, I dance well. I dance good and well. Fuck you all, I can dance!
smiled at the sun again @ 1:33 PM,
,
iCopy
Because I don't know what's happening to me.. and those around me.. and those who mean a lot to me.. heck, even those who're not really that close or those who don't really mean a lot to me *AHEM*..
So, the whole world. No, not the whole galaxy, that'd include the sun, and everything else that's labeled UFO and/or Alien.
smiled at the sun again @ 12:56 PM,
,
nyao
Friday, May 4, 2007
Classy resto (and nasty, demeaning stares of pretentious socialites) + ECE people = APOCALYPSE.
'nuff sed, mehn.
smiled at the sun again @ 10:55 PM,
,
jumping chainsaws and pick-up sticks
Makes you think.
What the hell ever happened to the happy days?
Young 10 year-olds and their senseless mumblings. You're not supposed to have that long (and really REALLY EMO) hair, nor the love for black. Then again, fuck that, right? Haha. What you do, ticks me off, but then, you're an exception, 'cause you play Yahoo! Games and such. Plus, the slight "toink" in the hair is funneh (really, funneh).
Black is NOT weakness and absence. It's a goddamned color.
smiled at the sun again @ 10:49 PM,
,
if it makes you feel better
Thursday, May 3, 2007
Don't wonder why this is different. I only show you people what you show me, and I respond accordingly, in an appropriate (and usually, in a similar) manner.
smiled at the sun again @ 10:20 PM,
,
sound of a puckered up kiss
Yes, I do have friends. And friends that are unusually snappy, and have smartass retorts, though their supposed "facade" (that's a C with the small comma thingy under it) doesn't show it. Oh, and girls hyped up about their useless boyfriends and untimely time of the month. As Timmy Turner said it,
"Never break up with a girl in the gardening tools section."
PS. (Why here? I don't know. :D) TAENANG MGA ATENISTA! HALABJ00 ALL! ^3^
***
This happened a few days back. And I'm the boy. No, duh, really. Seriously.
*telephone ring*
Boy: Hello Good Evening…
Girl: Hello pwede po makausap si--
Boy: Grabe mag good evening ka naman, nakakawalang gana eh.
Girl: Hellur, alas-dos na po ng umaga!
Boy: Oo nga pero kahit pa, dahil gising pa tayo ibig sabihin gabi parin. Diba diba?
Girl: Siguro kung nasa ibang timezone tayo umaga parin ngayon. Pero hindi eh! Nasa Pilipinas po kasi tayo.
Boy: Oh really now? Are we in the Pelepens? *laughs*
Girl: …..
*silence*
Boy: Hoy ano ba nagjo-joke lang ako. Bakit ka ba tumawag? At bat parang ang taray mo ngayon?
Girl: Kasi yung kupal kong boyfriend brineakan ako! Shit naman, mamamatay na ata ako!
Boy: Huh? Hindi ka pa ba sanay? Eh mas madalas pa kayong mag On-Off kesa dun sa switch ng ilaw sa kwarto ko eh…
Girl: Eh sha kasi eh, ginagawa ko naman lahat…
Boy: Tapos sira pa talaga yung switch ng ilaw ko ah. So kahit hindi ko pinipindot, pumapatay magisa…
Girl: Teka tumahimik ka. Ayun, tapos sha gaganituhin lang niya ako! Pinag-palit nanaman ako sa mga babae niya!
Boy: Pero siguro may multo dun sa kwarto ko noh… Scary! Wait, naniniwala ka ba sa multo?
Girl: Tarantado! Lintek ka, ano ba maglalaslas ako!
Boy: Gaga! Eto nanaman tayo eh…
Girl: Eh hindi ko na nga talaga kaya eh! Masisiraan nako ng ulo!
Boy: Uminom ka nalang kesa maglaslas ka. Kalokohan yan eh.
Girl: Mahal ang alak eh. Tatlong piso lang ang blade.
Boy: Sira-ulo! Teka tignan mo tong sa discovery channel oh. Yung mga shark hindi sila lumalapit sa Sting Rays. Kahit siga pa sila ng dagat, alam nilang risky dahil pwede silang masaktan.
Girl: Tangina naman…wala ako sa mood!
Boy: Hamak na mas malaki naman ata yang utak mo kesa sa utak ng hayop diba? Pero buti pa yung pating…
Girl: Ah basta maglalaslas ako!
Boy: Sipain kita diyan eh. Sige nga sabihin mo sakin kung anong makukuha mo sa pagiging emo?
Girl: Masarap eh… sasaktan ko nalang yung sarili ko physically para makalimutan ko ang emotional pain na nararamdaman ko.
Boy: Kalokohan!
Girl: At FYI lang ah, hindi ako emo!
Boy: Hello. Term lang yun. Ang tinutukoy ko talaga eh yung self-inflicted pain blamed on exaggerated depression.
Girl: Dui I’m not being emo! Mechanism ko nga lang yun.
Boy: Fine sige sabihin na nga nating mechanism mo yun. Pero hindi ba’t napaka illogical nun. Sinasaktan mo yung sarili mo para hindi ka masaktan?
Girl: Okay nayun kaysa naman umiyak ako. Loser lang ang umiiyak.
Boy: Tama ba yung nadinig ko? Loser lang ang umiiyak?
Girl: …..
*silence*
Boy: Ulitin mo nga…
Girl: Fine loser lang ang umiiyak… minsan!
Boy: Hala hala. Hindi kaya yun yung sinabi mo.
Girl: Fine! Bakit ano bang masama sa sinabi ko?
Boy: Oh sige tignan nalang natin sa ganitong perspective. Bakit ba inimbento ng diyos ang luha? Hindi ba para ilabas?
Girl: Basta ayokong magmukang loser.
Boy: Hindi ka naman loser pag umiyak ka eh. Mas loser ka kung hindi ka umiyak, dahil linoloko mo sarili mo nun.
Girl: Fine sige tama ka na. Pero hindi rin naman kasi nakakatulong yung pag-iyak ko eh. At hindi ko namang pinagma-malaki yung laslas ko.
Boy: Ah basta, kahit saan mo pang angle tignan, mali yang gagawin mo.
Girl: Mali na kung mali. Pero yun lang ang mahahanap kong temporary solution sa problem ko!
Boy: Solution? Kung maglaslas ka ngayon, bukas ng umaga pag gising mo andyan parin yung problema mo. Tapos kaylangan mo pa tiisin yung hapdi ng mga sugat mo.
Girl: Oo pero…
Boy: Look, kaya ko sinasabi toh kasi may paki ako sayo. Kaibigan kita, at ginagawa ko lang ang makakaya ko para matulungan ka. So sana makinig ka naman sa akin diba?
*silence*
Girl: Haaay grabe, eto nanaman. Malapit na akong bumigay sa convincing powers mo.
Boy: So malapit na ba kitang ma convince na loser ka nga talaga?
Girl: Weh, gagu!
Boy: Joke lang! Hihi so hindi ka na maglalaslas?
Girl: Hindi na po!
Boy: Loser! *laughs*
Girl: Uy ano ba!
Boy: Ginagago lang kita para makalimutan mo yang problema mo! *laughs*
Girl: Salamat ah. You really made me feel better. *laughs*
Boy: So pwede na ba ako matulog? Antok nako eh. At tapos na yung favorite show ko sa discovery channel.
Girl: Aling show ba yun?
Boy: Yung may mga nag nagdedebateng unggoy para ma impress yung mga voters bago mag election.
*laughs*
Girl: Sira ulo ka talaga!
Boy: Alam ko kaya mo nga ako labs eh!
Girl: Ulul! Sige matulog ka na nga.
Boy: Okay okay. Pero huling hirit lang…
Girl: Ano?
Boy: Lagyan mo ng toothpaste yung blade bago ka maglaslas ah. Para mabango.
Girl: Gagu hindi na nga eh!
Boy: *laughs* Joke lang yun. Sige Bye!
Girl: Salamat ulit. Paalam!
*plunger*
smiled at the sun again @ 9:52 PM,
,
remembering summer like you
When you think the world hates you and it has nothing more to show you (therefore, you are EMO, pshh), here's what you do:
1. Get a something that has a long, flat handle (eg. spoon, fork, knives for sad, pathetic fucks only, whatever makes you happy/not happy).
2. Face a mirror. Make sure you maintain a steady stance, directly facing the mirror, and will guarantee little to non-movement of the whole body.
3. Raise the aforementioned item. DON'T STAB YOURSELF TO DEATH, WHILE CRYING WITH YOUR BLACK EYELINER-ed EYES (god, that spoon will HURT like hell, AND will not kill you quite as fast as you'd hope). Don't break eye contact with your mirror image.
4. Open mouth. DON'T SCREAM, "I HATE YOU WORLD LOLOLOLOL".
5. Slowly insert the item of choice, not touching any part of your mouth, gums or teeth. Keep on going in, until you feel like you've hit a spot where it makes you gag. DON'T TAKE IT OUT, STUPID, THAT'LL DEFEAT THE PURPOSE OF THIS ACTIVITY.
6. Poke the same spot all over again, 'till you make grimy things that you've eaten for lunch blurt out from your mouth (much better if through the nostrils). Keep doing this, 'till your eyes tear up.
See, there's still something inside you (that came from the supposed meaningless and hated world), and it'll sting you (and leave you with a very, VERY nasty smell) and make you feel pain beyond cutting your skin with rusty blades. Plus, it makes you skinny! Perfect for.. well, I don't know, a very, VERY painful and slow death, maybe? Done and done.
*Has only been tested on sewage fishes and random Venus Fly Traps. Side effects may include stupidity, irrational yet poetic thinking, and invariable love for anything black and dark.
smiled at the sun again @ 9:20 PM,
,
just like before
What makes you think 2/0 isn't undefined as well?
smiled at the sun again @ 9:19 PM,
,
i'm deaf
Because PolSci is driving me nuts, and I can't quite hear the howling of sad, sad people, I choose to sit down and just look for awhile.
...
...
...
Done looking.
I think I'm blind, too.
smiled at the sun again @ 8:52 PM,
,
ultraburster straw
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
I don't have to say this, but just to annoy you, I don't fucking care, so turn around and go and emo up yourself to someone who actually thinks spending a second with you isn't wasting a whole lifetime. Kthxbai.
smiled at the sun again @ 8:24 PM,
,
otome pasta no kandou
Sing for me little angels.
Shatter the deafening screams and the nasty cracks and the unusual thuds.
Sing for me, please.
Though you be the deviance a lifetime's span, I submit myself to you once again.
Sing for me little angels.
No, I don't want to hear it again.
Sing for me, please.
I have no tears to shed, nor enough blood flow to feel.
Sing for me little angels.
I shall breathe again when I sing along for the last time.
smiled at the sun again @ 7:49 PM,
,
meep
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
Click.
Help me.
I need a new one.
Stupid.
Press to play-desu.
Help me.
I need a new one.
Stupid.
Press to play-desu.
smiled at the sun again @ 10:18 PM,
,
blueberry cheesecake
It's just dripping with so much sarcasm, I'd eat it.
smiled at the sun again @ 8:04 PM,
,
the noisy train story
Malus, that is, traced stars, or for the earthly, a different set of apple trees. (I think I see Ryuk - HAND ME YOUR DEATH NOTE, YOU STUPID DEATH GOD) Apples and stars, aligned, forsaken gravity. Oh, arrowheads.
Simple, box of memories, taped into permanent containment
Fly away, be not wary of hinges and fringed slices
Lose the Pandora
Lose the strand of ragged hope
Encircle the clouds and drop red tears
Draw the new line
Black and striped,
Lengthen no more, and become.
Swish, swish, swish, swish..
smiled at the sun again @ 7:21 PM,
,
lucky cha cha cha
What's right? Don't make me think otherwise.
smiled at the sun again @ 5:53 PM,
,