let me disappear into the rain

I've been twisting and turning,
In a space that's too small
I've been drawing the line and
watching it fall,
You've been closing me in,
closing the space in my heart.
Watching us fading and
watching it all fall apart.

No significant amount of words, of pen and paper, can describe the overwhelm of emotions i am going through now. I have lost all that remains of my faith- and i will never trust a female, again;
I was struck, a death blow.

Of prophetic lines`

He motioned her closer,
for now he was too weak t even speak
She held him close in her arms-
she realised she had never done so before-
And as he drew his last breath;
those last words reverberated the desolate halls of the medical sepulchre:
'If only, you'd given me a chance.'
Leaving nothing in his place but that,
of a tear.

Erasio Memorio

Dissociative identity disorder (DID)- a mental condition whereby a single individual evidences two or more distinct identities or personalities, each with its own pattern of perceiving and interacting with the environment.

Otherwise also, an apt solution t the current situation.

Taking it t be entirely honest, it would be a decent idea t have two individualistic replicas of myself-
one unaffected by the other.
I like t think i have control over my thoughts and emotions, until what i have recently found, with most misfortune, t be terribly impossible.
That very much reflects on the way i act, the attention i give, and the things i do (which all fall under the same category- my life!).
Have therefore engaged myself in various activities which, i had hoped, would divert my attention from basically, everything else.
Following a series of failed attempts,
i have went on t read about books like 'how t deal' and 'managing your life' which have since made me feel more revulsed by reminding me how i would rather throw away my money than purchase such rubbish (which i have made a mental note never t happen, ever again.)

That has left me where i started.

If a mental condition is the answer t it all, please, let it happen-
For pain and torture are two things i'd very much prefer not t encounter.

cross my heart; tell no lies

What happens of a man- one of whom, has lost all credibility? Does he grow old that way- with no one t care and no one t love, with no one t trust him? Does he spend the rest of his years, lonely, staring out at the sea, hoping, wishing, waiting? Does he take with him, buried under soil and white marble, the consequences for (like everyone else) the tendecy t falter in the early stages of adolescence? What happens t a man of such, i know not. What i know, alas, is the erect of the era we live in, one of immense unforgiveness, where the condoning of mistakes would be akin t losing the ability t cleanse oneself or t 'self purge'. More often that not, your past actions seem repeatedly drilled into your head, creating a barrier (invisible, although visible at the same time) re-evaluating your self-worth, and of course, the meanings of your promises.
'Promises mean nothing.' 'nothing', she says.

Death comes t all; it is hardly surprising, but solitude makes death seem a lucrative alternative. Some people choose t be alone; others, cursed. Cursed by acts of childish infidelity, losing their trustworthiness over a simple notion- (thinking back) of now an obviously shallow ridicule. Its funny how an act or two, sometimes by observation, or mere intuition, can barr a person from basic human relation trust and discredit so much of his/her words. Without trust, there is no possibility of harmonious cohabitation.

Its not too late t realise, within this society of mistrust,

Your credibility counts.

And redblooddrop, mine will.

You'll see.

if you get me, 'mary'.

its always the distance that sets us apart-
that literal measure of how far one is from another, at times due t the slight hindrance of a fogging rumour, the disbelief of one's ability t change/mature, or a subconcious observation that shaped into a seemingly 'general' stereotype, maybe the the figurative extension of the parents' body length-forming a path so long it seems mental just attempting t take that one little step- or of course, the metaphorical distance of futuristic goals and -on a more present note- schoolwork.

but more often than not, you find that its all in your head, for the eyes see what the mind seeks; its actually a little more beautiful than you thought it t be. And, a little 'closer' t the heart.
People change, and sometimes,
all it takes is t believe.

Give blood

have currently lost the use of my right hand- still very much incapable of its former agility- which makes me somewhat a left hander, for now, till i get my right back. Silly, now t think of it, that i didnt request t have the blood extracted from my left instead. An honest regret of decision, really, considering i am nothing close t being ambidextrous- i remain faithfully a right hander- i am therefore incapable of doing anything that involves the intricate skill of a proper hand. However, blood donation still is, despite the incovenience it has brought me, a very self gratifying 'thing' t do- it helps that i actually touched my own packet of blood (it looked pretty dark) and hearing the nurse say,
"You just saved three lives."

Picture it for a moment.
Yes, i thought so.

Last night was,
funny.
(nothing short of serious, though.)

untitled

like any other photograph, its more than just the image.
and like any bestseller, its more than just the story.


what you need is a hot cup of espresso and a slice of newyork cheesecake, with a slight touch of the jazzy blues, up at brew and groove's.
cheer up gwen. (:

all that's left

love all, trust a few.

Happyness

Of silver linings in clouds, is that what life is all about

Its perpetually impossible t keep up with optimism, for the very fact that it kills you, just knowing you have t rely on it t make yourself feel that teeny wince better(which is, unfortunately, often short lived). Optimism really, merely sets the stage for greater disappointment and that in a sense, makes pessimism a terribly better choice when it comes down t options for perception. I'd like t think that a happy person is often self deceived, because there is, with all due respect, little or no happiness to speak of, but purely 'ideas' of happiness based on personal definitions.

Then again, on a more enigmatic note, what in the steaming world is happiness?

Studies, my love,
oh yes im coming for you.
and note,
Its a little more than just the sky im aiming for;
if you realise, for the sky isn't any brighter than cold, hard floor.

Can you feel the love tonight`

Here's an excerpt of something i thought, was rather beautiful, though honestly i couldnt remember the exact words, it went something like this:

Many people walk in and out of your life,
but only the true ones will leave footprints in your heart.
To handle yourself, use your head;
To handle others, use your heart.

Anger is merely one letter short of danger
If someone betrays you once, it's his fault;
If someone betrays you twice, it's yours.

The great mind discuss ideas;
The average mind discuss events;
The little mind discuss people.

He, who loses money, loses much.
He, who loses a friend, loses much more.
And He, who loses faith, loses all.

There are millions of beautiful young people,
each of them, accidents of nature;
but beautiful old people, past mere superficiality;
those are the ones that are works of art.

Friends, you and me,
You brought another friend,
and then there were three.
We started a group,
our circle-
circle of friends.
And like that circle,
There is no beginning and no end.

Yesterday is history,
tomorrow is mystery.
Today is a gift,
that is why we call it the present.

Cherish your friends.
They might be the only thing worthy of remembrance in our less than pathetic lives.

I wish

Probably the best picture t ever describe the word

A brief look out of the window on the last bus back from queensway got me thinking. That same sensation of living with a meaning; or that of inspiration of some sort, essentially just, a prohibitively different life as that of the present, strikes me. (I find it strange), for everytime this happens, a distinct feeling of morbid envy unleashes within me, and everytime, i seek t change. But of course, i can never grasp this feeling, hard enough for me not t let it go. It is with no doubt at all that knowledge does not equate t application and i, with the intellect of differing right from wrong similarly have neither the power nor the will t apply that sense of knowledge.
I wish t hold on t that feeling, that feeling of inspirational change (for inspiration is powerful)- not immediately, but maybe with gradual increment, soon enough i'll make that desirable life, my own.

It's about time i put aside this procrastination and start doing something in order for any form of change t happen. Afterall, this is my life we're talking about.

Wish me luck.

hell of a magical july.

Sirius black, the official wanted poster.

Got this couple of days back at esplanade for about a quarter of a hundred bucks. My initial thought was it came together with a frame (would have been grateful for one of some sort) but on the contrary, no. A simple one costed 70 dollars, which of course there was no possible way of me, affording that.

The poster has since settled very nicely in my cupboard, somewhere, till further notice. (Sorry Gary Oldman, please put up with it for awhile.)

I've taken out all my harry potter books, read and re-read them. All that's left is the grand arrival. Both of huge screens and paperbacks.