Perception.

Sometimes I secretly worry about the things that tie me to unending suffering. Though my body aches, my heart still yearns. Weeping helplessly, drowning in a space of time and the fabric of the mind's universe itself.

I worry.

For I not what I will become but for what I have already become. This cold statue that bears no resemblance to the man that stood in reflection of the mirror. Slithering tears run across the cheeks of my spirit for he has witnessed the bastardization of purity.

Sometimes I worry.

Will I ever find my way back to him? For what the worldly challenges have crashed like violent waves of the Pacific I cannot bear to lose the North Star of my light. He yearns, he screams and worst of all he feels.

Deadened is the silence that grips the rapid composition of the mind. Frail is the tiny fractures of the conciouseness, nothing but just a deluded sense of sympathy and pity for the soul.

Will I ever not worry?

About the times blood has been spilt for glory and no longer survival, the wandering lust for victory over the sound care of empathy. It sinks me deeper. Penetrating the pores of my skin, deep into the structure of my bones. Reality simply cannot keep up.

I stand here today, afraid, alone and confused. The man in the mirror no longer weeps.

The man in the mirror now simply smiles.

Gun Metal Grey.

Not long is a smile without a drop of happiness to fuel its burn. Not long is excitement without contempt to ground itself within its roots. Not long is life with out the idea of death awaiting at the end of the tunnel.

The vague truth lies in the simplest of matters. I love you, 3 very powerful words to describe the unending oceans of passion I have for us. The way you make me smile, the thunder of your lightning and the thrill of your magnetic pull.

But I've wronged you, I've hurt and betrayed you on the grounds of our sacred promise. We made a pact, to never let each other go.

But I did.

In my selfishness, I let the demons of my insecurities get the better of the purity that stood as the foundation of our bond. How could such pain tear into a space of love and acceptance? The very question that has haunted me since even the day before we met.

The truth is I cannot bear to see you go. Even though you tolerate my belligerent behavior,  my egocentric mannerisms and my lust for cold progress and above all my searing words of disappointment that was lashed to you time and time again.

Above all, you still stay.

You drove me to work, waited politely outside the office from dawn till dusk to take me home.

Comforted me in times of distress, excited me in times of sorrow and loved me in times of loneliness.

Somehow, you're still here.

Though I cannot change the past and what has been said has been said,

I also above all still love you.

I will never let you go like the how the moon clings to the Earth and how bees cultivate the honey that thrives the existence of their species.

Forgive me once forever more for I have wronged you. But I know well within my heart to never make that mistake again.

I love you.

Sincerely,
Your undying partner.

Hospital.

Hospital, ironic how its name does not reflect the word 'hospitality'. The various sounds and smells floating around in the air. Sights of wheelchairs and feeding tubes force a question in my mind, is this not a place of recovery? Or is it where the sick are pushed into long winding lines by the 'countermen' who frigidly type away on their keyboards. Mercilessly telling patients to wait long stretching hours for their turn .It haunts me how these poor people, sickened by disease, pressured by pain, have to bear the dread of waiting, only to be told that their medical bills have only increased.

Sadistic!

Sadistic is what this so called system is, prioritizing order and control over sympathy and compassion.


As I look up from this brochure I am scribbling on , the patients keep flooding the registration counters, endless waves of them, prying their frightened eyes over one another, awaiting their long deserved attention. Oh how I wish I could be of significance to free these people from this god forsaken dungeon of a hospital, its cold floors and crowded spaces makes it resemble one.

Another patient is strolled on a stretcher. I caught a glimpse of the old lady's eyes as she rolled pass me. She was in fear of whatever was ahead of her. I could feel it.

I passively try to tell myself that these good people are going to be fine, but inevitably that is all I can do.

Such a sorrowful feeling washes me over.

I am subtly somber sitting in this stiff plastic chair, quietly observing oppression
as it continues with every ding of the counter bell.

Wisdom.

  There is a defining moment in one's life when he realizes he has outgrown his former self . Grown in all
aspects of life , leaving nothing but past demons to subtlety remind him of his triumph . And so he rejoices in his victory through his actions , his thoughts and his attitude . Shouting in exclamation to the world "Nothing can no longer remind me of the pain! Damn he who dares to crumble my spirit and to hell the naysayers that speak lies of me !" . In my opinion , one would have to brave through the waves of cuts and bruises life throws at you in order to achieve this higher state of being . A perilous journey that most would dare not to take and some even drown in its horrors. But at the end of the storm , you will find clear blue skies like no other , warm sunlight and soft clouds above , greet your success with calm oceans and cool breezes .

That is when you know you have made it .

     But the real testament of a wise man is the sacrifices that he is willing to make for the greater good .
Be it small or big , losing something for the gain of others is a virtue that cannot be bought nor bestowed upon, but is learnt . Learnt by feeling the pain and pressure of a hard life , knowing that you would not bear to see your loved ones experience what you have .

And so you sacrifice .

You take what you have learnt and pass it to those you care .

You compromise comfort , wealth , power and maybe even your life ,

To provide a better future for them .


Willpower is strong ,
and demons run when a good man declares war .

Lust.

      Ask anyone and they will and answer you that the dark relief of lust is dangerously addictive .
Intoxicating to point of lost self control that spirals wildly in a moment of pleasure and ecstasy . Its a strange occurrence that us humans constantly look for to relief the pain and pressure that impends on one's lost soul.
But this magical feeling ceases to last long , leaving a lingering taste for more . It tends to lure you in . Pushing your curiosity for just another trip down that doomed road that eventually leads to nowhere except guilt .

Why do you still keep doing it ?

Just another sweet taste for more .


Just this once , I'll let off next time .



     Its just a bitter lie to have that invigorating drain that seemingly clears your consciences slate .
Its almost as if its a primitive act . Like cats addicted to catnip , the heat of the moment catches your mind on fire and blocks your judgement like an opaque glass window . Nothing to think . Nothing to feel .


Except the adrenaline pumping in your veins .


The beads of sweat that slide across your cheeks .


The airy and deep breathes that free your chest .


The concentration that perverts your responsibilities .




Nothing like lust gives self destruction an alluring mask ,
Promising relief as it slowly turns its grasp into grip ,
Guiding your clouded mind into oblivion ,


As you lose a part of yourself to this monster .

Maturity.

Maturity is not the absence of childness ,
But the coexistence between responsibilty and irresponsibility .


This little quote i wrote was inspired by Nelson Mandela's quote on courage .
To me , i believe that one cannot live a life subjected to seriousness and responsibilty .
Without childness , we would only drown in this cold world that only demands what we can offer it.
So take a minute and appreciate your irresposible behaviour , prize your immaturities and
be happy for all your actions , be they sensical or not .

Battles.

Here's a little poem I wrote last year . I was feeling a little lost with myself and thought to vent it through words .



Who are you?
It is not character whom defines us ,
It is not society whom defines us ,
It is not people whom defines us ,
But is that the question ones ask's himself?

To be so unclarified of one's nature ,
To be at a lost , when everyone has found ,
Is there something wrong ?
That is the question .

When struck , your spirit flares,
But for what ?
Its burns an intense flame of youth and excitement ,
But stands for nothing ?
It feels lonely in world filled with people

Exaggerated lines and words "fills" the void ,
A void that has found its place in a spirit ,
Of which that spirit illuminates against the void ,
And so an immovable entity meets an unstoppable light ,
Igniting the battle within .

Hypocrisy.

Hypocrisy .  hypocrisy . hypocrisy .


What is the definition of hypocrisy ? Is it when all your righteous actions results into self deprecating lies ?

Or is it a shallow attempt at caressing your prized ego? Stroking it with love and affection as if it were your first born. God , I hate it when people do that. Shielding themselves with words that only make sense to them when they secretly know deep inside, its a bitter lie and God knows they realize it. Realize that all their fabricated words cannot justify the bullshit that they cannot take back. So they just linger on to fact that their always right. Willing to be a faithful martyr to their "Godly" egos.

Listen .

      Why don't you step the fuck back and look at what you have done. Not only have you hurt our feelings
with your sharp and condescending words , you look us dead in the eye and say "Its all YOUR fault!". I bet you know that your not willing to face the consequences. I bet your a coward inside!
Shying away at the first sign of distress and blaming others for it? How dare you call yourself a man ! A true man would stand firm and address the solutions for the problem, not stand around with your dickless face and start pointing fingers! What the hell are you trying to pull here? Just because your an elder it gives you an all season pass to fuck up and pick other people's weaknesses? And when we try to get close and understand you, you'd be an asshole anyway.


So what's the point here? Why are you here in my face telling me that I'm a failure when your mirroring yourself



dad.

Calmness .

         There's something so calm and settling about sitting in a dark room , smoking a cigarette ,
looking out an open window with a cup of warm coffee at 5 am . Noticing every slight detail of the outside surroundings with every slow drag , ruminating what everything that has happened in your life in a twilight state of ambience. The brushing sensation of wind from the ceiling fan to the stiffness of the office chair that your sitting on .

         It leaves a question mark in my conscience that no one has ever noticed that such little things
like this could be so remarkably beautiful . One might even say that finding clarity and serenity would be such a rare novelty to find in this bustling , loud and restless world we live in . But beneath that understanding actually lies truth in its most simple form , clarity and serenity exists in the little things . Things that may have no significance to one's daily life is a keystone in disguise  , hiding in plain sight as people just live right past them and wonder and complain that this world is too hectic for peace and quiet when the answer continues to pass them by .

         As I breathe in every toxic drag of that cigarette , at that moment I realised that nothing mattered . All my problems and worries just faded into the darkness of the room . All that was important was that streaming sensation of blankness I felt from staring into the barren light-polluted night sky , imagining nothing else than what I was feeling in that moment ,

acceptance .

     
         In that dark room , I felt acceptance amidst the rising smoke and scent of coffee that lingered on
my lips . Accepting things that were too stubborn for to agree with , accepting who I am and accepting my situation . Priceless . Nothing in this world could ever emulate that feeling . And all it was just smoking and drinking coffee in a dark room .

Or is it ?

Is it just that ?

Do you feel it is just that ?


Maybe perspective has its own way of unravelling beauty in the ordinary .

Hesitance.

Heres a poem or poem verse .. or whatever the hell you call it that I wrote and find would amuse your eyebuds to read .

 My lungs progressively fail me quick at the thought of reparation,

So to speak .

Satisfaction can never be quenched but nor squandered So , don't I want it now ?

                   Or will I regress again and blame my acclaimed                                  impressions for not crying out to the clouds ?

I would never comprehend the uncertainties of my one tracked mind ,

 Still scrapping the pieces of the past to feel the atmosphere around ,

But would still avail to nothingness , As I have always felt helpless .

Partake with me , empathise your best prejudices and call the court to adjourn .

For that is all you will and have done .

Relentless  .

Well at this point its probably a poem on its on but call it what you want . Feel free to read it again and again if your feeling like crap .

Works for me .


Byes.


(Also, heres something cool to listen to while reading , it adds 'ambience' so to say , lol)

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