MOOOOOOOOAR CIRKULLLLLLS, really
Friday, August 31, 2007
This is snow.
It felt cold. Really cold. Frostbites hugged the tips of my skin like- well, you get the point. There's really nothing to do, but soak in it, and let it melt in the hems of my clothing. Hard as it is to believe, there's snow, and it's definitely tickling my ears, and if it's not the one licking my skin, then I might be in trouble. But really, it felt soft, airy, ethereal even (and not jaunting), and it's sending a few tingles down my spine. It felt like an invasion of my body, but I really didn't give a damn. All I wanted was snow. This snow. But I feel a sudden rush of blood when I feel lips upon mine, soft, airy, ethereal even (and not jaunting). I could feel my brain turning into mush, as my legs did, a few seconds ago. And snow didn't taste as good as this. This, this was what I want. I think. But I have a one word less that escapes my lips, and it was muffled by the heavy breathing.
This is why.
Halvsies are for meanies. They don't share, they just show how much of a person they are. They don't genuinely show the things they would want to be exposed. Like Friendship lockets. Maybe. Same shit, tough rock. Can I be your little Osiris?
This is late.
I'm still lost.
I draw you like it's my birthday.
smiled at the sun again @ 8:46 PM,
,
no. it's not dead.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
*Before the net fluctuates into deterioration again
I want to throw away my worn out shoes into your face, really. It's not so much that I didn't care anymore, it's more of, 'what the hell, I guess I was wrong'. It's hate, simply put, it's hate for me. I just wish there's some way you'd slap it across my face, you know, just say it out right, so I'd not bother you or myself with my almost automatic nuisance. In my mind it's automatic, but in reality, I think it's pheromones. I've gone more than a few credible years lacking the same things, I can still go a few more. I lie to myself, badly, I might add. Screw you, fucktard. Hold my hand, please. You make me want to tear my eyes out when I'm basking under the moonlight.
-
It's off.
Which one, the light or the switch?
You.
Oh.
-
Love is for those who have something to say about the world, and my hand covers the entirety of my face. I detest, slightly, if not really.
smiled at the sun again @ 1:30 AM,
,
lightfall
Monday, August 20, 2007
I ask quietly:
What's true love like?
It smells like sunshine.
smiled at the sun again @ 6:48 PM,
,
hell's next satan
Sunday, August 19, 2007
You could say that I'm still swimming in different thoughts. I could feel the inconsistencies just rippling away from the vibrations triggered in my body. It's something automatic, probably.The bubbles I make as I try to breathe rise slowly to the brink of this body of murky thoughts. Maybe, above, just beyond the glistening horizon, they'd make sounds, emotions even. I stare blankly upwards, just laying down, and I see watermarks of words just crashing against each other, and some, trashing against the solitude of the bedrock somewhere over there. I suddenly become aware of the steady thumping in my ears; I wanted those to stop, it annoyed me to no end. Sadly, everything breaks my train of peaceful (blank, more likely) thinking. But then, my peace is thoughts of you, apparently, and I grimace wistfully at that.
Why can't you give me a much clearer picture? This one's too static-y. I can't even see what we're doing here, I'm not even sure if that's you or that's me. Wait, that's not me, but that's definitely you. Ah, I'm plummeting again into this shallow grave of mindlessness. I'll lie down now, I want to feel the beach turn white against my back. It's a beautiful night, mind you.
There's this place called 'my secret place', and you can't get in it. 'Cause it's MY secret place. I won't tell you much about it, but it's not a good place to be stuck in. There's a lot of things going on in there, and everytime I try to find my sanity there, there's always this steady thumping sound. I tried to set the place on fire, but the burnt remains just peeled off like wallpaper, and turned into dust. And then, there it is again, the whole thing's there again. Then, I always see words moving about it, and when one's too small to read, another one pops into view, much bigger than the rest. My secret place is fucking awesome. No, you can't go in! It's mine. Not really. But thoughts of you keep it alive. I'll just sink into a corner now, and listen to crazy mumblings.
After all, I'm still drawing, and acting my line in the story. And it never seems to end.
smiled at the sun again @ 8:33 PM,
,
Who was your last?
I got trapped into doing this so.. yeah.
Rule #1:
If you open this you GOTTA take it.
Rule # 2:
You are NOT ALLOWED to explain ANYTHING
unless someone
messages you and asks
Rule #3:
Only answer True or False
Q: Kissed more than one person on your top friends? True
Q: Kissed someone you didn't like? True
Q: You like someone? True
Q: Held a snake? True
Q: Been suspended from school? False
Q: Kissed in the rain? Sadly, true
Q: Sang in the shower? True
Q: Sat on a roof top? True
Q: Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on? True
Q: Broken a bone? True
Q: Shaved your head? False
Q: Played a prank on someone? True
Q: Had/have a gym membership? False
Q: Donated Blood? False
Q: Had your heart broken? True
Q: Broken someone's heart? False
"Who was your last?"
just be 100% truthful
LAST PERSON.
1. You hung out with? Aids, onil, santi, ayie, jeff, nina, joanne, kate, bem, and musmos kids :)
2. last person you texted? Hannah
3. last person you slept next to? Zaw and Marvin
4. Went to the movies with? HS classmates
5. Went to the mall with? HS classmates
6. You talked to on the phone? Someone who called the wrong number
7. Made you laugh? Onil
8. You hugged? Musmos kids.
9. you kissed? Some person.
10. Made you cry? Some. Fucking. Person. :)
WOULD YOU RATHER...
1. Be serious or be funny? Funny.
2. Drink whole or skim milk? Whichever makes me taller.
3. Die in a fire or get shot? Get shot.
ANSWER TRUTHFULLY...
1. Sun or moon? DUH. Stars. Haha, fuck you, don't laugh.
2. dark or light chocolate? Light = white? Light it is.
3. Left or right? Right
4. Sunny or rainy? Double DUH.
5. Hugs or kisses? Definitely Hugs AND kisses
6. Where do you live? At home. At the foot of the mountain. Where civilization and whatever collides.
7. Rock or Techno? May techno rock naman diba?
8. Do you want to get married? Yes.
9. Do you twirl your spaghetti or cut it? Cut it, then twirl it.
10. Do You Cook? Yes.
11. Current mood? Bored.
IN THE LAST 72 HOURS HAVE YOU...
1. Kissed someone? Yes
2. Sang? Yes
3. Been hugged? Yes
4. Liked someone you can't have? Yes. So I've got two words for ya: FUCK YOU.
smiled at the sun again @ 2:14 PM,
,
slightly used, but not quite
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Rainy days are happy days. But I keep asking for shitty things when it's rainy. C'mon, melt, MELT! Damn you.
You have that smile that, it seems, reminds me of my childhood.
smiled at the sun again @ 10:22 AM,
,
fharckin batstich
I just got served.
Damned nonsense.
smiled at the sun again @ 10:19 AM,
,
lawlz
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
I guess I'm riding with the rain's gloomy mood today. I am lazeeeeeeeeeeeeh. Like that. I can't even think properly right now.
But Tickle-me Elmo says:
You're like my large intestines: you're full of shit, but I can't fucking live without you. And you're fucking messing up my insides.
~tap tap tap
smiled at the sun again @ 8:01 AM,
,
if I had a DSLR, I'd shoot you
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Apparently there is such a thing as a human being,
with a heart,
minus the love,
but still with the heartbreak.
<3
A slip is a revenge served with an unfeeling hand.
smiled at the sun again @ 8:15 PM,
,
emo is a type of song, not a people [sic..not. maybe.]
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Even from afar, I could hear the waters gushing in and shying away again along the coastline. I didn't want to get my feet wet, or any part of me for that matter, so I was content in just sitting here. The grass was sort of wet with early morning dews, and sort of itchy, ticklish itchy. Or maybe it was the cold sand that was ticklish itchy. I forget. Sitting here, with knees close to my chest, and hands huddled around it, didn't seem like the perfect setting. I couldn't really see what was beyond the horizon, if there was one at that time, but it sure as hell was cold, not breezy cold, but really drowsy cold, if that's one possible name for it. I tried to stifle the urge to snort, or a sob, but I stifled with all my might, nonetheless. Too bad, I really couldn't, so I let it escape in a nonchalant manner. I pass it off with an inconsistent humming of some other song I used to like, and it sounded a little bit off, shaky even. Must be that drowsy cold feeling. Subconsciously, I huddle a little closer and tighter to myself. Damn, I must look like a to-be-roadkilled drunkard. I feel myself drenched in a very delightful warmth, as its source sat beside me and held an arm around me. Make that two. I am definitely not THAT needy. But I guess I drive people into wrong assumptions when I act like myself. Like myself. Only like. I didn't even get that. It's okay, I guess. I live off on fake intelligence. Shaking menacingly now. No, wait, heartbeat slowing down. Have I been drugged? Oh yes, a loooooooooong time ago, dear. Sleep.
Why, yes, I am that person in the biggest music shop in this country, listening to crappy sample music. No, I didn't see you.
It is blind-folded bliss. Still life Coma.
smiled at the sun again @ 10:33 PM,
,
much to my chagrin
Thursday, August 9, 2007
If, once in a while, you look back, and take one good look, the muddy trails are gone before you know it.
I'm behind your wonderland, waiting for my own to come by.
smiled at the sun again @ 7:01 PM,
,
10, 9, 8, and I'm insane for candyfloss
If you would just stop running,
take a moment to lie down on the grass,
and look up,
you will see that the most beautiful sunrise
has been painted in the sky
just for you.
It's raining, and I'm a normal human being who doesn't have a working umbrella. Do the math.
smiled at the sun again @ 6:45 PM,
,
sore feet, sore loser, same banana
Sunday, August 5, 2007
At the end of it all, who weeps and cries for the soul of the villain?
Green lights flashed before my eyes, for the slightest moment, and it caused me to avert my gaze from condescending eyes. Hard as it is, I lost the glaring match, and I can't help but control the muscles to pull my lips into a dry, and rather fake, I might add, smile. I have the will and the mind power to ignore the petty jabs and attempts at my person, but not this. Not this. And therefore, I am weak. Simply put, I lost.
But how I wish I could change it, even just draw me back to the time when I really didn't give a damn. I could look at people in the eyes, with an awfully sweet and ignorant smile of a child, but inlaid with the spurts of befuddlement that is puberty. Hell, even then, I was really ignorant of everything around me that, in the course of my hellish life, realizations did not sink in as they normally would. Chocolates are always the best therapy for the bored mind.
Hate. It was an impeccable thing for people. But, to an amazing degree, I never had to relate anything to the word, to any degree, to any possible manner. Or at least, I used to. I love everyone - family, friends, strangers. Love did not carry the slightest tinge of eroticism, inhibitions, maliciousness - it was all goody-two-shoes type of love. I could say I love you, without even really caring the ramifications it could possibly create. Ignorance truly is bliss. And so are underlying psychological disturbances in my brain.
Hi. Let's shake hands. What's your name? I'm wachamacallit. I know, you probably don't care, and I wouldn't really too, but this is me trying to correct my inherent stupidity, so yeah, Hi. Maybe a few years from now, I'd like to be your friend. Even best friend. Whatever. I look like a pathetic, needy, social climbing git now, don't I? Never you mind. I have my ways. Actually, if this doesn't go as smoothly as planned, or doesn't even end the way I would like to, I'd like you to hate me for that reason - me being a bratty schoolboy, with grave hunger to get into the inner circle. Because social outcast, I can handle, but a rejection, a rejection from those condescending eyes, and I'll break, not into a dramatic million pieces of tears and whatnot, but simply into two - with my head severed, and my heart amiss. Yes, it's suicide. Or I manipulated someone to murder me, in a very morbid and explicit manner.
But should it all go well, then I'll be happy enough to look back. Shyly, I might add. I'm not trying to be cute, I'm not trying to be a clueless moron, but I am happy, right here, opposite the chair your sitting at, and babbling away about the day's embarrassing highlights, including that time (few seconds ago?) I stained my shirt with coffee because I was, as you said, "spaced out" - though in reality, I was really swimming in those warm eyes, the same eyes that saw right through me, and told me just the right words when I needed it. But I really wouldn't say that outloud, 'cause really, I'm not trying to be cute, I'm not trying to be a clueless moron, I'm just happy, right here, with you, following my every hand gesture with slight humor, but still with lingering warmth. Friends, best friends, whatever.
It's all I ask for.
I write without much enthusiasm,
We all write our own endings, whether they be happy or otherwise.
And all I got was
Time takes it all whether you want it to or not, time takes it all.
Time bares it away, and in the end there is only darkness.
Sometimes we find others in that darkness, and sometimes we lose them there again.
smiled at the sun again @ 10:04 PM,
,
stake it
Saturday, August 4, 2007
I am not a friendless git after all.
Thank you for the cake, or whatever it was. Mango tart ala mode?
Thank you.
smiled at the sun again @ 10:27 PM,
,
Feeling lucky, punk?
Friday, August 3, 2007
I'm just a boy, immature and ignorant. I am the crisscrossing wall of wire. I am the rain. I am the boy with a bandage on his head, around his eyes. I am the eye that bleeds. I am the hands that captures the cold metal by its thorns. I am the drenched piece of clothing. I am the mixture of blood and acid. I am the darkness and the gloomy thing that rises with every fall of the day's tears. I am mud. I am the shoes that are stained with mud. I am thr rust in metal. I am the boy waiting, wanting for more. I am the one left behind. I am.
Where are you...
smiled at the sun again @ 7:37 AM,
,
band tap
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
I'm a way away from breathing these romantic words
I bit my lip, albeit a little too harshly. Words came tumbling one after another without my consent, as if it wasn't me speaking. And now, I have this nasty bruise on my lower lip. I felt eyes following the evident bleeding, and I felt like I was being scrutinized for something horrifying. I could've sworn I twitched madly, but I really couldn't remember; I was too busy being a glass window. Rain drops were licking the fringes of my hair, my sensitive earlobes, my drenched eyelashes, my chapped lips, my clothes - everything really, and hell, it was cold, and I was shivering like a mother-less puppy. But even in this state, the heated glare continued, or maybe it wasn't a heated glare anymore, more softer and aloof, blank perhaps? I really did not dare look back. Puddles of water began to form at my feet, and I ran away, like a little boy, to anywhere, anywhere, anywhere but there. Make that anywhere dry and has a non-removable roof.
A smile lingers, plays, and tugs the ends of my lips, as I jump forward
As you can see, I won't suck anyone's face just anything. I will NOT, definitely NOT, suck face for my friends. I will, though hard to admit it, suck face for a cheap oreo blizzard. See? I'm cheap. The thing is, will you be buying me that cheap oreo blizzard? Outside, I see a little boy running around and rappin on the window glasses, looking at random people with pleading eyes. I turned my back on the spot, and the warmth drained out of my body. So that's how it is. I guess that's why I'm stubborn as a rock, and stupid like one, too.
Waiting for you to open your arms and catch me.
I'm wasting time doing this, when I should be studying, or something. But I stall. And stall some more, just like that last line. In the end, I lose. Meh, it's typical, really.
I cast a maddened frenzy upon my face
and see nothing there.
I fall.
I am too lazy too mature, I just realized.
smiled at the sun again @ 7:47 AM,
,