You sank beneath the waters of oblivion
Eyes closed, face pale
I saw you through the murky swirling
Your still form stirring dirt into a faint trail
I reached out to you but you slipped away
I called out but you could not hear
So I stretched out into the current of forgotten things
Holding back my silent fear
I tried to pull you out but the river was molten metal
It held on and dragged you down
Your half-familiar face began to disappear
Creased in a slight, distant frown.
No, it shall not be, I said
I put all my strength into it
Slowly but surely the liquid tendrils slid off
You surfaced bit by bit
Then you were on the bank, dripping wet but safe
I shook you and begged you to awake
You had been underwater for so long
I was afraid it was more than you could take.
But then you coughed, spitting water from your cold lips
And you opened your eyes at last
Eyes that brightened, ready to take on the future
You're not going to live in the past.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Thanksgiving
Roasted brown crisps
Perching upon a tree
Combing off remnants
In a boyish wind.
Down below
A sweeper groans
Of the endless fall.
Forgetting whose shade
Embraced him through
The summer's glaze
The Extinguisher
Sawdust and leaves
Lay untouched in their abode
The drought never seems to cease
Leaving all life
Half-evaporated of life itself.
Disrupting the languid nature
An unexpected spontaneity
Amber sparks flicker about
A new life has begun,
Giving rise to smoke
Giving birth to carbon
As it crackles on passionately
Warming the carbon yet more
As if to lay
A cradle
With mittens and blankets--
A security for the newborn
That would have lasted
an eternity
But alas,
As age rises; as carbon ascents
As a young swallow leaves its nest
Embracing greater depths of the skies
With its newly formed wings.
Gone and beyond
In a foreign sky
Venturing
Into uncharted quarters
Where that protection
Slowly fades
Away from
Touch.
The climb up
Treacherous and torturous
The heart
Hardening and freezing
With unfeeling altitude
And as the currents
Nudge carbon back and forth
Back and forth.
It dares not venture any further
It shan't be increase the distance
Between itself
And its creator.
Till the whispering wind
Wanders about...
That devil.
In exchange,
That friendly protection
The red shiny cover
It had recently procured.
To cut all ties
That hold it.
To allow it to fly freely
Like severing
The string of a kite
Fire welcomes it home
That similar presence
As its silhouette wraps about in an embrace
Only to receive
A different air.
"Come over here, .... "
"Extinguisher." That reaffirming
Of its change of name
The altering of an identity.
Next a lethal spray
Cutting off all history
Of reason
Of its existence
No longer crackling
Nor passionate
The loitering mist,
A hint of a sigh.
Not disappointed
But acknowledgement
That the inevitable had come
The smoke fizzes
In laughter
"Its child still kept the middle name"
And in sheer contentment
Is brought away into darkness
It goes on
Like a severed kite
Directionless;
Subjected to the winds
Fancies.
To where one brings
That bright red
Canister
Exhausting every molecule
Of breath.
Digging Deeper
To shovel and spade through
The gravel and dirt
Of what forms the Earth
What will we discover?
A sinew of cables
Endless in nature
Infestation of networks
Replacing us souls?
Or
The bustling tunnels
Parasitic in nature
Hollowing earth out
Like lumbering louts
To keep foraging through
Would we uncover
The surface
A revelation
Thereby exposing,
The Earth's heavy heart
It's past plights
To the unfeeling light?
We might unearth
The roots and bones
Of a thousand years
Tracing the lines right down
To the end, but
What for?
And if we ever venture depth
Is it but a desperate redress
Or, a shielded repress?
For our minds are veined and stretched
But never,
Never to reach the Core
What reason would one need
To be tired of Surface;
And the choking lack of air
When venturing higher.
Thus methodically moving
In opposite currents
To discover soil
And the richness of it
To dig deeper
Need we have torch lights?
The scorching Core
And the jewels embedded
Which will shine us through?
To dig deeper...
What then,
Will one
Recover?
A tissue in the wind
I
Flutter in the wind
Flutter in the wind
Released from a wrinkled hand
A drifting whitish strand
Finally flying free
The playful breeze nudges
Me as I swim down
Trying the butterfly stroke
In the currents of the air
Kicking hard desperately,
Almost in despair
But then the wind takes me along
To the unknown floor below
It says that I've done enough
To the next stage we'll go
Within the webs of leaves
The luscious trees
Visiting the crows that perch within
Wearing a coat so gaunt and lean
The branches of a thousand sorts
Prod me from all angles as I fall
The accelerated descent
Ruffles me wary
Of the pricks and tears in my skin
Well,
But off I go
No more brooding about that
Unappetizing experience.
Spreading out my wings
Like a parachute
I ponder on
For the reason why
The hand that threw me out
Could have thrown me into the rubbish chute
Did he think of this
Of letting me fly free?
As I float down
Blending in with the wind
Not really so
As one notices this unsightly rubbish
Floating out near her balcony,
When she finally took time
To appreciate the scenery.
And a couple of children playing
The very game
As I venture to the ground
Of a block of Lego
On and on
Till the second floor
An elderly man contemplating
At the window
In a swift motion
As if saving me from
My happy trip to death
He lifts a cane out
And I land
With my wings spread out on it.
He looks at me with quizzical wonder
Then shakes his head
In a disapproving nature
Wandering over to his bin
Then depositing me in.
Now surrounded by other trash,
My probable new score of friends,
In this squeeze of a chamber
I feel a sense of
Warmth and protection.
Nothing else would ever happen
Only the expected.
And as I dwell in my new abode
Of which I was to call home
Reminiscing
Of the adventure I had
-------------------------------------
I have no idea what this means, but I suddenly had this idea when some random tissue paper was floating by my window O.O
Iri-descent
Iri-descent
A lethargic frame makes her way down the stairs. A long way down, but nothing would prove long enough to challenge her. Even her bones had survived her for the last eight decades, albeit a couple of sprains in her younger days, days no longer glorious, but remain a blurry memory.
But while she descended this, the onset of rheumatism pointed out to her rather rudely-- even eternity will have an end.
A few gazes fell upon her. Whether it was due to her being a human road block, or wondering if she needed help, she would never know. She observed the soulless bodies trudging forward; they had neither a sense of purpose nor conviction. She missed the days when people would help each other readily -- they were long gone. Introduction of moral education, leadership lessons, whatever the Ministry and schools are doing; one would have thought, or at least hoped, that it would make a difference.
Or maybe, just maybe, displacement has been mistaken for achievement by those Ministry fellows.
Not just them; but society as a whole.
Her slippers were strewn over the stairs, marking her descent down.
A flash of a face, though familiar, yet distant. It was a man, with much resemblance of his younger self, but now with a face that has learnt not to trust. A side-glance to the old lady struggling down the steps, a hesitation on whether she needed help. That instant of giving in to his past self. Then a resolve; hurrying off to his destination, even if he did lose it long ago. Someone else will help her if she needs it, he assured himself. They all did.
A descent not counted successful by many, but at least she made it down.
As she leafed through pages in her memory, she finally recalled. A sudden scene crept into her mind. It was her, about forty odd years ago; in a classroom as an English teacher, analyzing a short piece. She introduced the term “diffused responsibility”. The class she taught was vibrant and cheery. Especially a boy who did not understand how this term could ever exist; residing and thoroughly hypnotized in his utopia.
She was lying in a pool of her own blood.
In this enclosure formed by a mob, all air and light fade, highlighting an onlooker. The dark silhouette of a future once bright.
He had forgotten.
Dictation
Elusive threads
Tugging at minds' ends.
Chess pieces caress the board
Playing an intense game
The outcome played out
Long before.
One chooses his choice of food
Never realizing
It was never his choice to begin.
And when a poet writes
About what one calls 'inspiration'
He'll never admit:
Every thoughtful word
Meticulously hand-picked;
Is but dictation.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Stop the Mozzie Hate!
If humans have to rely on the blood of another species for the continuation of our own, we wouldn't hesitate. Not their fault mosquitoes are born needing blood. There's no need to kill them over itchiness either. Be brave and put up with it, there are greater things to worry about in life.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Poetry and Happiness and How They Are Related With Regards To Myself (And This Title Is Written With Many Unnecessary Capitals Because It Aggravates Me When a Title Isn't Capitalized Like So)
It's strange how I can churn out nice poems faster when I'm upset. And normally the more upset I am, the nicer the poem turns out. When I'm happy my poems end up rather messed up. That's not good. I can write a happy poem, I know I can. Then why is it that so many of the poems I write are anything but happy? I can be happy. I am happy most of the time. I guess it's just that when I'm happy, I don't tend to want to sit down and write poetry. So most of the time my poetry is churned out when I'm very sad or angry. And you don't expect me to be writing about flowers and kittens and sunshine then. I wonder if that's the case for most people who write poems. Yes, I do know they are called poets, it's just that using it in this context seems to imply that I am a poet, and I don't really see myself as a poet. Although I do write poems quite often, so does that make me a poet by definition? Is that all a poet is, someone who writes poems? Well anyway, if it really is this way for people, perhaps it explains why poetry has this reputation for being gloomy and depressing. Because many people do not like writing poems while they are happy and so they write only when upset, hence naturally the poems turn out pretty grim. So because of the high proportion of unhappy poems, people have higher chances of stumbling upon unhappy than happy poems, and they probably have read more unhappy poems, so they think poetry is an emotional, gloomy, depressing thing.
But you know. That's just my guess
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Construction and Demolition
Buildings sprout from the ground, pushing old debris away
They grow tall and wide, and are gone in a day.
They germinate and creep up without making a sound
And then in a second they are razed to the ground
Open your eyes in the morning, a new range of skyscrapers to be seen
Pass again in the evening and they are gone with the wind.
In an urbanized city of shifting and change
The familiar often vanishes to make room for the strange
Nothing lasts forever and indeed they're gone in a flash
In with the new, and the old is out with the trash.
Everything is built and polished and torn down before it can rust.
And shining new replacements spring out amid the stumps of the past
As development rushes on, perhaps can we shed a tear?
For the gone buildings of yesteryear.
They grow tall and wide, and are gone in a day.
They germinate and creep up without making a sound
And then in a second they are razed to the ground
Open your eyes in the morning, a new range of skyscrapers to be seen
Pass again in the evening and they are gone with the wind.
In an urbanized city of shifting and change
The familiar often vanishes to make room for the strange
Nothing lasts forever and indeed they're gone in a flash
In with the new, and the old is out with the trash.
Everything is built and polished and torn down before it can rust.
And shining new replacements spring out amid the stumps of the past
As development rushes on, perhaps can we shed a tear?
For the gone buildings of yesteryear.
Monday, July 9, 2012
Energy
Warning: May contain elements of my religion, Buddhism.
I was just talking to my cousin the other day, and this is what I learnt:
Everything is energy. As you know, e = m*c^2, so even matter is energy. There are two general types of energy, positive and negative.
Positive energy can be warmth, love, gratitude or any kinds of helpful energy. Negative energy is energy that harms us, physical examples would be radiation or pollution, which is chemical energy. However, there are also negative energy in emotions and thoughts. A scientific proof for this is done on something from our everyday life, water. The crystalline structure of water changes when we speak positive words like 'love' and 'thank you' or negative words like 'hate' and 'ugly'. Plants grow differently with different kinds of music too, like classical music helps growth, and rap slows growth. In this case, sound energy can be positive or negative, depending on the type.
Even cancer is related to negative energy. Cancer cells are hosts of negative energy, and they infect other energy sources in your body too, causing more of your energy to be converted into negative energy. That's why modern medicine is looking in the wrong direction, as they seek to destroy the cancer cells, believing they are the very root of the problem. However, energy cannot be created or destroyed, and killing the cancer cells alone wouldn't help much. The cancer cells are hosts of the negative energy, and destroying the cells would not destroy the negative energy. Chemotherapy or radiation therapy just delay the inevitable. However, if we can find the source of negative energy and stop that, at the same time converting the negative energy into other forms of energy, we may be able to cure cancer.
My cousin is himself a cancer patient since his early twenties. The cause of cancer is not genetic, as there is no family history of cancer, and his lifestyle is probably not the reason either, as his sister is perfectly healthy. However, unlike his sister, he holds a long-term grudge against his father, who shows a lack of concern for him. This anger and frustration is likely the source of negative energy, he realizes, and thus has let go of it ever since. He has survived terminal stage cancer for six years now, and goes around clapping his hands regularly in an effort to convert the negative energy into harmless, sound energy.
Now I have to touch on some rather religious stuff. I believe in karma, and karma itself may be energy. It is the positive and negative energy that attaches to us when we generate it in our actions and thoughts. Positive energy makes things go well, and attracts other people/things with positive energy too. Negative energy makes things go haywire (a.k.a. bad luck) and attracts other people/things with negative energy. Also, that's why most religious things work, be it the Muslim prayer, Christian hymns or Buddhist chanting, as they preach love and other positive things that generate lots of positive energy.
In conclusion, surround yourselves with positive energy. Be happy and love more, as it this will influence those around you and everything you do.
I was just talking to my cousin the other day, and this is what I learnt:
Everything is energy. As you know, e = m*c^2, so even matter is energy. There are two general types of energy, positive and negative.
Positive energy can be warmth, love, gratitude or any kinds of helpful energy. Negative energy is energy that harms us, physical examples would be radiation or pollution, which is chemical energy. However, there are also negative energy in emotions and thoughts. A scientific proof for this is done on something from our everyday life, water. The crystalline structure of water changes when we speak positive words like 'love' and 'thank you' or negative words like 'hate' and 'ugly'. Plants grow differently with different kinds of music too, like classical music helps growth, and rap slows growth. In this case, sound energy can be positive or negative, depending on the type.
Even cancer is related to negative energy. Cancer cells are hosts of negative energy, and they infect other energy sources in your body too, causing more of your energy to be converted into negative energy. That's why modern medicine is looking in the wrong direction, as they seek to destroy the cancer cells, believing they are the very root of the problem. However, energy cannot be created or destroyed, and killing the cancer cells alone wouldn't help much. The cancer cells are hosts of the negative energy, and destroying the cells would not destroy the negative energy. Chemotherapy or radiation therapy just delay the inevitable. However, if we can find the source of negative energy and stop that, at the same time converting the negative energy into other forms of energy, we may be able to cure cancer.
My cousin is himself a cancer patient since his early twenties. The cause of cancer is not genetic, as there is no family history of cancer, and his lifestyle is probably not the reason either, as his sister is perfectly healthy. However, unlike his sister, he holds a long-term grudge against his father, who shows a lack of concern for him. This anger and frustration is likely the source of negative energy, he realizes, and thus has let go of it ever since. He has survived terminal stage cancer for six years now, and goes around clapping his hands regularly in an effort to convert the negative energy into harmless, sound energy.
Now I have to touch on some rather religious stuff. I believe in karma, and karma itself may be energy. It is the positive and negative energy that attaches to us when we generate it in our actions and thoughts. Positive energy makes things go well, and attracts other people/things with positive energy too. Negative energy makes things go haywire (a.k.a. bad luck) and attracts other people/things with negative energy. Also, that's why most religious things work, be it the Muslim prayer, Christian hymns or Buddhist chanting, as they preach love and other positive things that generate lots of positive energy.
In conclusion, surround yourselves with positive energy. Be happy and love more, as it this will influence those around you and everything you do.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Ignore The Blood
Fighting for your life on the deadly battlefield
Armed only with that sharp metal stick you wield
Parry, riposte and thrust among mountains of injured and dead
A sudden jab! Opens a wound in your side that runs red
It's a deep wound, it's serious, you know for sure that it is
You try to resist the urge to fall to your knees
Agony pierces you in a hot-cold slice
The enemy advances- you can't hide the fear in your eyes
You stumble away as he tries to run you through
Crimson spills and it hurts, but what else can you do?
Ignore the blood, ignore the pain
Force yourself up and strike again
Blink away those blinding, desperate tears
Grit your teeth and push aside those terrible fears
Block off the emotions that rush at you in a flood
Just like how you ignore your own blood
You keep on fighting, it's all you know how to do now
Determined to kill or be killed, and you don't care how.
Oh, whether a battle's won or lost
Who out there thinks about the cost?
Everyone wants to see grand trophies of the conflicts fought
But few see how much blood had to be ignored.
Armed only with that sharp metal stick you wield
Parry, riposte and thrust among mountains of injured and dead
A sudden jab! Opens a wound in your side that runs red
It's a deep wound, it's serious, you know for sure that it is
You try to resist the urge to fall to your knees
Agony pierces you in a hot-cold slice
The enemy advances- you can't hide the fear in your eyes
You stumble away as he tries to run you through
Crimson spills and it hurts, but what else can you do?
Ignore the blood, ignore the pain
Force yourself up and strike again
Blink away those blinding, desperate tears
Grit your teeth and push aside those terrible fears
Block off the emotions that rush at you in a flood
Just like how you ignore your own blood
You keep on fighting, it's all you know how to do now
Determined to kill or be killed, and you don't care how.
Oh, whether a battle's won or lost
Who out there thinks about the cost?
Everyone wants to see grand trophies of the conflicts fought
But few see how much blood had to be ignored.
Friday, June 15, 2012
Where fantasy meets reality
Princess' dreams, and dragons flee
A handsome prince, kneels and grieves
Oh ho, a kissing scene
"A happily ever after" curtain call it is.
Warfare, murder, fraud, theft, burglary
Divorce, corruption, rape, molest
Vile and contempt
In raging trend
And so,
No further dealings
With reality
Only, and only so,
To fuel the esteemed land of fantasy
The climax, plot and other settings
Require such surveillance
Of this sad, undesirable community
Call it cowardice
Call it weak
I'm but an outlier;
With an informed choice
Camouflaging in
With the convoluted majority
I
Still am, and always will be
Plugged in a matrix.
Of maniacal delusion
I remain a hermit
Writing poetry
In ecstasy
Beauty
In front of the mirror she brushes her hair
Gazing at posters of ladies fair
Models for this ugly duckling to emulate
Personified perfection to imitate.
Foundation, blusher, eye-shadow and lipstick
Powders, mascara and concealer to work their magic
Painting for her a portrait upon her skin
A glittering cover to hide the blemishes within.
Another face takes shape over her own
A prettier one that she deems fit to be shown
Next, a volley of chemicals on her hair to make it fine
Special lotions and serums to make it shine
Brush a hundred times, then style according to the posters on the wall
Followed by a cloud of hairspray to fix it all.
Mousy brown strands are groomed into glossy locks
Then pinned up perfectly to "that special look that rocks!"
Finally, she puts on the outfit she's prepared
According to the fashion tips her friends have shared
Jeans carefully frayed and painstakingly ripped just right
T shirt just a little too tight
Showing off the figure she's skipped a thousand meals to achieve
A dozen diets for those slim arms peeking from under her sleeves
Her trendiest new earrings sparkling under the light
She's sure to be in the limelight tonight
Forever chasing beauty, her one and only interest
But all the while she never really knew what it was
Gazing at posters of ladies fair
Models for this ugly duckling to emulate
Personified perfection to imitate.
Foundation, blusher, eye-shadow and lipstick
Powders, mascara and concealer to work their magic
Painting for her a portrait upon her skin
A glittering cover to hide the blemishes within.
Another face takes shape over her own
A prettier one that she deems fit to be shown
Next, a volley of chemicals on her hair to make it fine
Special lotions and serums to make it shine
Brush a hundred times, then style according to the posters on the wall
Followed by a cloud of hairspray to fix it all.
Mousy brown strands are groomed into glossy locks
Then pinned up perfectly to "that special look that rocks!"
Finally, she puts on the outfit she's prepared
According to the fashion tips her friends have shared
Jeans carefully frayed and painstakingly ripped just right
T shirt just a little too tight
Showing off the figure she's skipped a thousand meals to achieve
A dozen diets for those slim arms peeking from under her sleeves
Her trendiest new earrings sparkling under the light
She's sure to be in the limelight tonight
Forever chasing beauty, her one and only interest
But all the while she never really knew what it was
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Canoe
I really admire Canoeing people now. You all have super good balance and arm muscles :D Now I am dang sunburnt, got muscle ache and have the skin of my left thumb scraped off. But it was really fun, will consider joining it in J.C. You staying in Canoe?
I got into the canoe, expecting it to be like the kayak of OBS. But I only paddled a few metres before capsizing, the first capsize of the day!
The teacher helped me empty the canoe, and I climbed back in. Wasted efforts, because the moment he left my canoe, the inevitable happened. I tried my best to keep steady, but to no avail. I will never make a tightrope walker.
This happened for a few more times, until the teacher was wondering what's the point of getting me back on the canoe if I have to capsize immediately after that. All this time my more talented schoolmates were paddling somewhere far away. Drunk too much water up my nose.
What made me really determined to stop this was that I knew I was wasting a lot of people's time. And whoops I accidentally made a HCI senior helping me capsize too, while trying to clamber back onto the canoe. So I somehow managed not to capsize any more for the whole of the the morning session. I found it helps to keep paddling and look straight. Even turning around to look back can capsize me.
We learnt all the very basic strokes and stuff. And for the second session I continued the miracle by staying relatively drive. What motivated me was an ant crawling on the boat, for I didn't want to doom it by capsizing. It was fine until the race. You know, under the heat of the race, I loosened my discipline and went down. Poor ant. Oh man.
I found out after I went ashore that the skin of one side of my thumb had come off. Must have held too hard. But I'm really glad the reservoir water looks relatively clean, and my senior certified it 100% potable.
So you see, canoers are really pro. How do you guys even stay on the canoe? And paddle so fast? Haha was it the same situation for yall when you started?
I got into the canoe, expecting it to be like the kayak of OBS. But I only paddled a few metres before capsizing, the first capsize of the day!
The teacher helped me empty the canoe, and I climbed back in. Wasted efforts, because the moment he left my canoe, the inevitable happened. I tried my best to keep steady, but to no avail. I will never make a tightrope walker.
This happened for a few more times, until the teacher was wondering what's the point of getting me back on the canoe if I have to capsize immediately after that. All this time my more talented schoolmates were paddling somewhere far away. Drunk too much water up my nose.
What made me really determined to stop this was that I knew I was wasting a lot of people's time. And whoops I accidentally made a HCI senior helping me capsize too, while trying to clamber back onto the canoe. So I somehow managed not to capsize any more for the whole of the the morning session. I found it helps to keep paddling and look straight. Even turning around to look back can capsize me.
We learnt all the very basic strokes and stuff. And for the second session I continued the miracle by staying relatively drive. What motivated me was an ant crawling on the boat, for I didn't want to doom it by capsizing. It was fine until the race. You know, under the heat of the race, I loosened my discipline and went down. Poor ant. Oh man.
I found out after I went ashore that the skin of one side of my thumb had come off. Must have held too hard. But I'm really glad the reservoir water looks relatively clean, and my senior certified it 100% potable.
So you see, canoers are really pro. How do you guys even stay on the canoe? And paddle so fast? Haha was it the same situation for yall when you started?
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
One of Us
You got the look of one who's been broken, forgotten and lost
Like a misplaced buoy in the angry sea, swept and shaken and tossed.
It's obvious you've gone off the tracks and you don't know where to go
You're so confused you've given up completely and you're too tired to put on a show.
We see you walk around with deadened eyes hollow as your heart
Blank gaze and empty soul, clearly you've been torn apart.
Lonely loner, you've been ripped from your clan and you don't know where you belong
Wishing but no longer hoping to find your kind, you wonder where it all went wrong.
You stumble on in cold isolation, fragile from the pain
Running through your scars and vowing never to be hurt again.
You're a misfit, an anomaly, a complete and utter outcast
In other words then, you're just like us.
Oh yes, you're not the only one, you're not as alone as you thought
We are the old veterans of the war you believed that you and you alone fought.
We know exactly, exactly what it's like to live your life
We've gone through your troubles and tasted your strife.
We had what you once had, and like you we lost it all
Saw everything drifting away before our eyes and didn't even have strength to call
Just like you, pain and tears were our best teacher
And from them we learnt how to spot a traitor.
Those that claimed to love us but backstabbed us instead,
But the shared torment bonded us close and true allies we made.
Be alone no longer, you've found people like you
Without words we understand your story and you understand ours too
Put your suffocating lonliness to an end
Among us fellow warriors you'll find your true friend.
No one tends a wound like the people with scars
Come join your own kind and leave behind the sorrows of your past.
Somewhere in this struggle we've found you and you've found us somehow
We know how you feel and you're one of us now.
Like a misplaced buoy in the angry sea, swept and shaken and tossed.
It's obvious you've gone off the tracks and you don't know where to go
You're so confused you've given up completely and you're too tired to put on a show.
We see you walk around with deadened eyes hollow as your heart
Blank gaze and empty soul, clearly you've been torn apart.
Lonely loner, you've been ripped from your clan and you don't know where you belong
Wishing but no longer hoping to find your kind, you wonder where it all went wrong.
You stumble on in cold isolation, fragile from the pain
Running through your scars and vowing never to be hurt again.
You're a misfit, an anomaly, a complete and utter outcast
In other words then, you're just like us.
Oh yes, you're not the only one, you're not as alone as you thought
We are the old veterans of the war you believed that you and you alone fought.
We know exactly, exactly what it's like to live your life
We've gone through your troubles and tasted your strife.
We had what you once had, and like you we lost it all
Saw everything drifting away before our eyes and didn't even have strength to call
Just like you, pain and tears were our best teacher
And from them we learnt how to spot a traitor.
Those that claimed to love us but backstabbed us instead,
But the shared torment bonded us close and true allies we made.
Be alone no longer, you've found people like you
Without words we understand your story and you understand ours too
Put your suffocating lonliness to an end
Among us fellow warriors you'll find your true friend.
No one tends a wound like the people with scars
Come join your own kind and leave behind the sorrows of your past.
Somewhere in this struggle we've found you and you've found us somehow
We know how you feel and you're one of us now.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Library
I happened to visit Jurong East library recently. They have a good array of fiction books, but no Animorphs as far as I could see. Just wanted to say that the library looked sadly unfamiliar; so long has passed since I last stepped into one.
Can still remember the good old times at the Greenwood library, and visiting the national library once every week. I miss being loaded down by the dozens of books I had to carry home, with my bag bursting and my back breaking. Really miss those days.
Now I'm too busy to start reading again, can't afford to keep owing homework to the teachers, can I? Just, every now and then, I suppose I can allow meself a little break from the endless homework piled on us. Now would be a good idea.
Goodbye for now, I'm off to the fantasy world!!
Can still remember the good old times at the Greenwood library, and visiting the national library once every week. I miss being loaded down by the dozens of books I had to carry home, with my bag bursting and my back breaking. Really miss those days.
Now I'm too busy to start reading again, can't afford to keep owing homework to the teachers, can I? Just, every now and then, I suppose I can allow meself a little break from the endless homework piled on us. Now would be a good idea.
Goodbye for now, I'm off to the fantasy world!!
Random Continuation
Suddenly, a knock on the door startled us like a gunshot. Eric hurriedly grabbed his coat and slunk upstairs without a word. I cautiously opened the door and to my relief, it was only Lina, my best friend.
"Hey Helen," She smiled at me, her amber eyes shining. "Good to see you again. Happy Birthday!"
"Thank you, Lina." I replied, the tense atmosphere Eric brought forgotten. I stepped aside to let her in. "You've brought me a cake?"
"Yes! The best in town! Your favorite. By the way, did I interrupt anything? I heard voices." She asked, placing her coat on the same .
"You did? But I'm alone here! It must have been the radio." I lied smoothly.
"Oh, ok." Lina responded, but she sounded doubtful. I saw her glance at the still-open doorway, and to my shock Eric's footprints showed clearly in the thin layer of snow.
"Oh, those footprints are mine! I just came home from the market!" I invented something quickly.
"Really?" Lina still sounded unsure, as she looked at me. "Well, let's get started! Here's the candles."
We settled down in the kitchen and started chatting over pieces of cake and orange juice. Lina was my only friend in this mundane village, and we haven't met for a long time as I was just back from a long overseas "job". We talked briefly about the latest news in the village, random gossip and fabricated a few details about my cover job as a sales manager to answer her questions.
As the conversation grew longer, I felt a growing sense of unease as I thought about Eric upstairs. Who knows what he may be up to now? Does he need to leave urgently?
My blood ran cold when I suddenly thought about my 'blackbook' lying open on my work table. I had been updating it just before Eric arrived. Would he come across it upstairs? Would he dare to read my private books? Would he understand the significance of it?
My heart raced as I thought of how to send Lina away. Outwardly, I kept a calm expression as I discussed the best way of maintaining a garden with a pet. Some of my frustration must have leaked, as Lina wondered why I was so restless that day.
Finally, Lina left, and I shut the door nervously. Eric appeared at the top of the stairs.
"I didn't know it was your birthday. Happy Birthday." His gaze appeared especially penetrating as I read it uneasily for any sign that he had read my blackbook.
"Thanks. Sorry to keep you up there for so long. Bored? Had anything to do?" I asked carefully.
"I guess so. Nothing much." He answered, just as guardedly. We stood staring at each other for a while.
"So, do we have a deal?"
Haha, I couldn't get her job either, just raised even more questions didn't I? Hope this helps though.
"Hey Helen," She smiled at me, her amber eyes shining. "Good to see you again. Happy Birthday!"
"Thank you, Lina." I replied, the tense atmosphere Eric brought forgotten. I stepped aside to let her in. "You've brought me a cake?"
"Yes! The best in town! Your favorite. By the way, did I interrupt anything? I heard voices." She asked, placing her coat on the same .
"You did? But I'm alone here! It must have been the radio." I lied smoothly.
"Oh, ok." Lina responded, but she sounded doubtful. I saw her glance at the still-open doorway, and to my shock Eric's footprints showed clearly in the thin layer of snow.
"Oh, those footprints are mine! I just came home from the market!" I invented something quickly.
"Really?" Lina still sounded unsure, as she looked at me. "Well, let's get started! Here's the candles."
We settled down in the kitchen and started chatting over pieces of cake and orange juice. Lina was my only friend in this mundane village, and we haven't met for a long time as I was just back from a long overseas "job". We talked briefly about the latest news in the village, random gossip and fabricated a few details about my cover job as a sales manager to answer her questions.
As the conversation grew longer, I felt a growing sense of unease as I thought about Eric upstairs. Who knows what he may be up to now? Does he need to leave urgently?
My blood ran cold when I suddenly thought about my 'blackbook' lying open on my work table. I had been updating it just before Eric arrived. Would he come across it upstairs? Would he dare to read my private books? Would he understand the significance of it?
My heart raced as I thought of how to send Lina away. Outwardly, I kept a calm expression as I discussed the best way of maintaining a garden with a pet. Some of my frustration must have leaked, as Lina wondered why I was so restless that day.
Finally, Lina left, and I shut the door nervously. Eric appeared at the top of the stairs.
"I didn't know it was your birthday. Happy Birthday." His gaze appeared especially penetrating as I read it uneasily for any sign that he had read my blackbook.
"Thanks. Sorry to keep you up there for so long. Bored? Had anything to do?" I asked carefully.
"I guess so. Nothing much." He answered, just as guardedly. We stood staring at each other for a while.
"So, do we have a deal?"
Haha, I couldn't get her job either, just raised even more questions didn't I? Hope this helps though.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Random Beginning
Hi Guys I'm writing this story beginning completely on the spur of the moment, not sure where it's going and not intending to end it. Maybe if you guys think of something you can continue it? Anyway here goes:
The heavy snow fell on the already frosted glass as he trudged alone through the dark, forested path. I watched him from the window as he approached. It had been a long time, but I would never mistake that loping walk or the strangely overbearing aura his short figure cast.
He arrived at the doorstep just as I descended the stairs, and knocked once. I opened the large oak door, and for a moment we just stare at each other, calculating tawny eyes meeting wary azure ones.
"Helen." he said finally, by way of greeting. "Eric." I reply curtly. Another short silence, and I stand wordlessly aside to let him in. He did so, dumping his long faux-fur coat on a nearby table without invitation. I observed him closely under pretence of putting up the coat on my empty stand, while he did the same to me with a great show of wiping his feet on the mat. Both of us quietly apprehensive, yet eager to begin.
"So. You require my services?" I enquire at last. He nods slowly. "Yes. Are you willing to sell, is the question." "I sell to whoever can pay my rates."
He shakes his head with some irritation. "Money is no object, Helen. As I'm sure you know. But the job I have in mind for you is a little more... extreme than the ones you are probably used to." he says delicately. I bark out a laugh. "Try me, Eric."
He stares at me some more, refusing to speak, cautious. Afraid, perhaps. He knows my line of work well, he knows me well. He doesn't trust me. "As I remember, you used to do jobs like this yourself. Found a way out of it, have you?" I inquire lightly. He shrugs and answers "Surely you yourself don't intend to do, well, what it is we do, forever?" I laugh again, but humorlessly this time. "You sound like I have a choice."
"I do, don't I?" he replies. I give him a wintry smile. "Back to business, perhaps?" He nods again. "I'll pay you two million for this job. Cash. You get half as downpayment, and the other half when I see the job is done." he states. I smile again. "Two million. A hefty sum. What could this one be, Eric?" He seems to shake himself, put up his guard, at my refusal to give him a straight answer. "Will you do it or not?" he presses.
I smile once more, just to unnerve him. "What, don't trust me?" I tease. "I am simply unwilling to be taken in again, Helen. As are my associates." There's a touch of menace in his tone. We have had run-ins before, me and his "associates", as he puts it. "None of us like being taken in." I say as way of reply. He appears to accept this.
"So, do we have a deal?"
Ok, that's it, I guess. I'm not sure why I wrote this but anyway, feel free to continue if you want to. Can you guys figure out what her occupation is?
The heavy snow fell on the already frosted glass as he trudged alone through the dark, forested path. I watched him from the window as he approached. It had been a long time, but I would never mistake that loping walk or the strangely overbearing aura his short figure cast.
He arrived at the doorstep just as I descended the stairs, and knocked once. I opened the large oak door, and for a moment we just stare at each other, calculating tawny eyes meeting wary azure ones.
"Helen." he said finally, by way of greeting. "Eric." I reply curtly. Another short silence, and I stand wordlessly aside to let him in. He did so, dumping his long faux-fur coat on a nearby table without invitation. I observed him closely under pretence of putting up the coat on my empty stand, while he did the same to me with a great show of wiping his feet on the mat. Both of us quietly apprehensive, yet eager to begin.
"So. You require my services?" I enquire at last. He nods slowly. "Yes. Are you willing to sell, is the question." "I sell to whoever can pay my rates."
He shakes his head with some irritation. "Money is no object, Helen. As I'm sure you know. But the job I have in mind for you is a little more... extreme than the ones you are probably used to." he says delicately. I bark out a laugh. "Try me, Eric."
He stares at me some more, refusing to speak, cautious. Afraid, perhaps. He knows my line of work well, he knows me well. He doesn't trust me. "As I remember, you used to do jobs like this yourself. Found a way out of it, have you?" I inquire lightly. He shrugs and answers "Surely you yourself don't intend to do, well, what it is we do, forever?" I laugh again, but humorlessly this time. "You sound like I have a choice."
"I do, don't I?" he replies. I give him a wintry smile. "Back to business, perhaps?" He nods again. "I'll pay you two million for this job. Cash. You get half as downpayment, and the other half when I see the job is done." he states. I smile again. "Two million. A hefty sum. What could this one be, Eric?" He seems to shake himself, put up his guard, at my refusal to give him a straight answer. "Will you do it or not?" he presses.
I smile once more, just to unnerve him. "What, don't trust me?" I tease. "I am simply unwilling to be taken in again, Helen. As are my associates." There's a touch of menace in his tone. We have had run-ins before, me and his "associates", as he puts it. "None of us like being taken in." I say as way of reply. He appears to accept this.
"So, do we have a deal?"
Ok, that's it, I guess. I'm not sure why I wrote this but anyway, feel free to continue if you want to. Can you guys figure out what her occupation is?
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Shark Story
Hi guys!
Finally got around to writing that diary entry. I'm writing from the perspective of a great white shark, and there are two entries. Sorry if I make any scientific mistakes, cos I don't know a lot about the creatures I'm writing about>.< I wrote it while I was out on a chess competition haha:P Anyway yeah, hope you guys enjoy it!
Finally got around to writing that diary entry. I'm writing from the perspective of a great white shark, and there are two entries. Sorry if I make any scientific mistakes, cos I don't know a lot about the creatures I'm writing about>.< I wrote it while I was out on a chess competition haha:P Anyway yeah, hope you guys enjoy it!
Diary of A Great White Shark Pt 1
Dear Diary,
We great white sharks are the kings of the ocean. With the whales and the dolphins, we rule the deeps. Top of the food chain, second to none. It's a reputation all sharks glory in. Wherever we go, anything that swims gets out of the way. Except the remora fish, but those are useful. And jellyfish, because they know we don't eat them. Annoying little creatures. But aside from these we pretty much dominate the seas.
Until now.
Something strange has appeared in our ocean. Something we've never seen before, something almost not..not of the sea. It's larger than the sharks by far, and faster than the dolphins. We've heard stories about it too, stories of huge, drifting nets that swallow more fish that a pod of whales. Sometimes these nets trap dolphins, and they die too. But now they say this creature has brought friends. Deadly friends. And in great number too.
These friends are supposedly even more dangerous than the ones that brought them. Yesterday, on one of my hunts, I heard a pod of humpback singing for grief. I paused to listen, and I heard them singing for a dead leader, who died unnaturally and horribly, speared to death with a merciless rain of sharp, curved weapons from above. They sang with deep mourning. But they also sang of terror, of uncertainty. They sang of a new predator that had invaded our waters, more powerful than any of us. And they sang out their fear to the skies.
Fear is not something I am accustomed to hearing from the mighty humpbacks. It is not something I am accustomed to feeling, myself. None of us. But if these creatures are killing the dolphins, and hunting the whales, is it not likely that the sharks will be next?
We great white sharks are the kings of the ocean. With the whales and the dolphins, we rule the deeps. Top of the food chain, second to none. It's a reputation all sharks glory in. Wherever we go, anything that swims gets out of the way. Except the remora fish, but those are useful. And jellyfish, because they know we don't eat them. Annoying little creatures. But aside from these we pretty much dominate the seas.
Until now.
Something strange has appeared in our ocean. Something we've never seen before, something almost not..not of the sea. It's larger than the sharks by far, and faster than the dolphins. We've heard stories about it too, stories of huge, drifting nets that swallow more fish that a pod of whales. Sometimes these nets trap dolphins, and they die too. But now they say this creature has brought friends. Deadly friends. And in great number too.
These friends are supposedly even more dangerous than the ones that brought them. Yesterday, on one of my hunts, I heard a pod of humpback singing for grief. I paused to listen, and I heard them singing for a dead leader, who died unnaturally and horribly, speared to death with a merciless rain of sharp, curved weapons from above. They sang with deep mourning. But they also sang of terror, of uncertainty. They sang of a new predator that had invaded our waters, more powerful than any of us. And they sang out their fear to the skies.
Fear is not something I am accustomed to hearing from the mighty humpbacks. It is not something I am accustomed to feeling, myself. None of us. But if these creatures are killing the dolphins, and hunting the whales, is it not likely that the sharks will be next?
Diary of A Great White Shark Pt 2
Dear Diary,
It has happened. The doom of the sharks is upon us.
Today, I was swimming in the open, something I had tried not to do since the stories of this new creature. But the hunger and the smell of blood overwhelmed me. The smell of blood was so strong, and the desire, the sheer desire... I found myself chasing the promise of prey before I even knew what I was doing. There was a source of blood, very near, and blood meant prey. So I followed the scent right out into the open. The bloodlust was growing, and I powered out in a frenzy. Prey. Blood. Prey! KILL!
And then I saw it. A huge, looming, dark shape above the waters. It was a hulking, rugged monster, the size of a whale! And the waters beneath it were crimson with blood. For a moment I was paralysed, caught between fear and bloodlust as the scene burned into my mind. The broken bodies of my own kind drifted downwards, billowing blood everywhere. One thing was common among all the corpses-they had no fins.
What horror was this?! was my last thought.
That was when the craving for prey took over, shutting down my brain and driving my body into the mass of blood and bodies, ripping, tearing, snapping. Savagely, I bit into the corpses of other sharks-now my prey. Well, I say corpses...some were still writhing, struggling in vain. I saw other sharks doing the same beside me, and as we feasted on our own species I saw still more of us pulled out of the water. Later, the same ones were thrust back, finless and streaming with blood. The scent must have drawn sharks form miles around. And likewise, sharks from miles around were mutilated, and thrown, still alive, to their hungry brethren.
The monster must have devoured as many fins as it could hold, because it suddenly moved on, leaving a few of us unharmed. Once I managed to regain control of myself, I turned tail and sped away, reeling with shock.
Was this what the creature did to lure its prey? By using our own bloodthirstiness, our own uncontrollable desire to hunt, against ourselves, it had drawn more of us than I have ever seen in one place. How, then, could we fight back? At the rate this thing ate, it would only be a matter of time before it wiped us all out. This new hunter would kill us all! The sharks, the whales, the dolphins, even the plentiful fish. We'd all die. Then this thing would rule the oceans of the world. The dead oceans of the world.
I don't understand. What does this thing want from us? Why the carnage? The whales did not swallow all the krill, the dolphins do not devour all the tuna, we do not eat entire species. Even the fish know to leave some algae to live. I have never seen any predator destroy his prey completely. We depend on our prey for survival too. Yet this creature seems determined to eliminate us all. But why? Will it not perish alongside us when that day comes? How can anything be so cruel, so intent on killing, that they must take so many of us?
It has happened. The doom of the sharks is upon us.
Today, I was swimming in the open, something I had tried not to do since the stories of this new creature. But the hunger and the smell of blood overwhelmed me. The smell of blood was so strong, and the desire, the sheer desire... I found myself chasing the promise of prey before I even knew what I was doing. There was a source of blood, very near, and blood meant prey. So I followed the scent right out into the open. The bloodlust was growing, and I powered out in a frenzy. Prey. Blood. Prey! KILL!
And then I saw it. A huge, looming, dark shape above the waters. It was a hulking, rugged monster, the size of a whale! And the waters beneath it were crimson with blood. For a moment I was paralysed, caught between fear and bloodlust as the scene burned into my mind. The broken bodies of my own kind drifted downwards, billowing blood everywhere. One thing was common among all the corpses-they had no fins.
What horror was this?! was my last thought.
That was when the craving for prey took over, shutting down my brain and driving my body into the mass of blood and bodies, ripping, tearing, snapping. Savagely, I bit into the corpses of other sharks-now my prey. Well, I say corpses...some were still writhing, struggling in vain. I saw other sharks doing the same beside me, and as we feasted on our own species I saw still more of us pulled out of the water. Later, the same ones were thrust back, finless and streaming with blood. The scent must have drawn sharks form miles around. And likewise, sharks from miles around were mutilated, and thrown, still alive, to their hungry brethren.
The monster must have devoured as many fins as it could hold, because it suddenly moved on, leaving a few of us unharmed. Once I managed to regain control of myself, I turned tail and sped away, reeling with shock.
Was this what the creature did to lure its prey? By using our own bloodthirstiness, our own uncontrollable desire to hunt, against ourselves, it had drawn more of us than I have ever seen in one place. How, then, could we fight back? At the rate this thing ate, it would only be a matter of time before it wiped us all out. This new hunter would kill us all! The sharks, the whales, the dolphins, even the plentiful fish. We'd all die. Then this thing would rule the oceans of the world. The dead oceans of the world.
I don't understand. What does this thing want from us? Why the carnage? The whales did not swallow all the krill, the dolphins do not devour all the tuna, we do not eat entire species. Even the fish know to leave some algae to live. I have never seen any predator destroy his prey completely. We depend on our prey for survival too. Yet this creature seems determined to eliminate us all. But why? Will it not perish alongside us when that day comes? How can anything be so cruel, so intent on killing, that they must take so many of us?
Monday, March 19, 2012
Daydreams
Haha I will get to the ant story soon, I promise! This is yet another random post.
I spend roughly one third of my life sleeping, half of my life awake and the rest daydreaming. So you see, daydreams make up of a rather huge part of my existence! My daydreams consist of small ones lasting a few minutes to half an hour, medium ones lasting half an hour to a few hours and big projects many days. I shall post on the big ones. Most of the content is rather random, and usually utterly useless : p
Here's a peek into my head:
Primary school days:
Mainly war games like the ones in Ender's Game (a great book). Set in the jungles rather than space though, often with plenty of snow.
Early sec 1 days:
Mostly reminiscences of Greenwood.
Project 1 (L. Ixora should know this):
Started from a real dream. I was falling, falling, falling down a huge dark chasm. When I finally hit the bottom, I was consumed my a living mud and at this point I woke up. Expanded into a whole book ever since (there was once I dreamt of being a writer), and the mud spat me out into a magical, barren land. There was war over the two sides, users of physical magic and users of wand magic, the dark and the light side respectively (I was on the dark side).
Project 2:
My class, 212, kena thrashed in a game. It was a game with engineers, police and medics, where engineers are supposed to plant the ' bomb' (ball) into the opponents base, police are supposed to catch engineers and medics are supposed to save them. 212 lost twice in a row, both times, the other 2 teams bombs ended up in our base. I was super buay song. One year later, I remembered this, and started planning strategies. One year too late : p
Project 3:
This one super bo liao. Sometimes I wonder if we were given 10-20 food which we have to survive on for the rest of our lives, which would we choose? I suppose the perfect combi would be 5 fruits (mango, apple, pear, banana, blueberries) and 5 veges (potato, corn, cabbage, brocoli, pumpkin, rice is supplied) plus milo and orange juice (water is supplied). And sometimes I wonder how living in a world surrounded by mummy (dunno how to spell, it's the one we used to eat in greenwood) where we chop our food from the walls with axes.
Project 4:
The most recent one here. I was wondering if I were to run away, how long would I last? With sufficient preparation, I think a year. With outside help, even more. First thing to look for when escaping is to find a ' safe house', and many hideouts. This requires scouting. Second is to stock up on money and useful stuff. Just remember that no one is to know you ran away, the only thing that people would know is one day you disappeared after leaving school. Thirdly, remember to stock up on entertainment! It's gonna be boring hiding away.
Gotta stop here, it's getting long : )
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Dancer Girl Without A Face
Her glittering mask catches everyone's eye
The painted smile sweeter than a playboy's lie
The prettiest girl you could hope to find there
The light flickers on her silky smooth hair.
Her skin so flawless, softer than the wind's caress
Sequins sparkle on her beautiful dress.
This dancer girl so lovely takes the floor
Men's eyes brighten and women gaze in awe
And both alike fall into almost a trance
As the music plays and she starts to dance.
Spinning, twirling, leaping with her light feet
Her hair flying behind her in an unbroken sheet
Dancing, gliding, as weightless as the wind
Her exquisite masked face all that can be seen
Minutes of beautiful dancing pass, music the only sound
Then this lovely fairy falls back to the ground
Her audience, enticed, crowd around.
They jostle and push to see her well
Each one caught, enchanted by her spell
Then this pretty dancer girl, with a dancer's grace
Sweeps off the gorgeous mask - and she has no face!
A pale, smooth, featureless oval is all that there is
The crowd reels back, asking "What on Earth is this?"
And now this dancer girl seems so sinister - but sad.
The mask was all the beauty she really had
As this faceless beauty turns to leave
A man asks her, as if he cannot believe,
"Miss, your face, do you realize...?"
She turns to him and without lips replies:
"I, too, once thought having a face was important indeed
But the world has taught me this mask is all I need."
The painted smile sweeter than a playboy's lie
The prettiest girl you could hope to find there
The light flickers on her silky smooth hair.
Her skin so flawless, softer than the wind's caress
Sequins sparkle on her beautiful dress.
This dancer girl so lovely takes the floor
Men's eyes brighten and women gaze in awe
And both alike fall into almost a trance
As the music plays and she starts to dance.
Spinning, twirling, leaping with her light feet
Her hair flying behind her in an unbroken sheet
Dancing, gliding, as weightless as the wind
Her exquisite masked face all that can be seen
Minutes of beautiful dancing pass, music the only sound
Then this lovely fairy falls back to the ground
Her audience, enticed, crowd around.
They jostle and push to see her well
Each one caught, enchanted by her spell
Then this pretty dancer girl, with a dancer's grace
Sweeps off the gorgeous mask - and she has no face!
A pale, smooth, featureless oval is all that there is
The crowd reels back, asking "What on Earth is this?"
And now this dancer girl seems so sinister - but sad.
The mask was all the beauty she really had
As this faceless beauty turns to leave
A man asks her, as if he cannot believe,
"Miss, your face, do you realize...?"
She turns to him and without lips replies:
"I, too, once thought having a face was important indeed
But the world has taught me this mask is all I need."
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Fantasy Meets Reality
Dreams and thoughts and fantasy
A world made of imagination deep in me
Shadows and magic playing in the light
Your wildest dreams fluttering just out of sight
Ideals and ideas of righteousness and truth
Vows of being upright and a will to improve
Innocence so sweet so naive and so young
Believing what they said and trusting the songs that they sung.
Backstabbing and climbing the ladder so high
Leaving your dreams in the dust with a sigh
Everything's about harder-faster-stronger-better
What do the idealistic thoughts of the young matter?
Working always to beat the others,
Forgetting friendship and the love of your brothers
Running this race that has no end
Shattered fantasies buried in the sand.
Because this world has no space for magic and hopes
Because you have to do the job before you learn the ropes
Because time and tide wait for neither woman nor man
Because imagination has no place in this land.
On idealism you cannot survive and on fantasy you cannot live
So forget your dreams for practicality's sake and let youth's naivety leave.
A world made of imagination deep in me
Shadows and magic playing in the light
Your wildest dreams fluttering just out of sight
Ideals and ideas of righteousness and truth
Vows of being upright and a will to improve
Innocence so sweet so naive and so young
Believing what they said and trusting the songs that they sung.
Backstabbing and climbing the ladder so high
Leaving your dreams in the dust with a sigh
Everything's about harder-faster-stronger-better
What do the idealistic thoughts of the young matter?
Working always to beat the others,
Forgetting friendship and the love of your brothers
Running this race that has no end
Shattered fantasies buried in the sand.
Because this world has no space for magic and hopes
Because you have to do the job before you learn the ropes
Because time and tide wait for neither woman nor man
Because imagination has no place in this land.
On idealism you cannot survive and on fantasy you cannot live
So forget your dreams for practicality's sake and let youth's naivety leave.
Hi Everyone
Hi guys! Idealist's Shadows(Dunno if you want me to use real names sorry)just invited me to join this blog:) So if its ok I'm gonna post one of the poems I've written once. It's not as cheem as yours though the language is quite simple:p hope you guys like it!Let me know if there's something I'm doing wrong, I'm not too sure how to post on a blog and all cuz I don't really have many...
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Entry Suggestions =)
I've just posted 2 of my better poems. (in my opinion.)
Of course, you can read the rest of my collection(not in full) at potatoescankill, and some on facebook notes.
I've never been good at narratives so I think the sci-fi story would be a failure. I await in apprehension for it to be returned. With a slew of comments and having it drenched in red ink and crosses.
Now since we're in the midst of stories... I've got an idea.
We should suppose ourselves to be something else, and write a diary entry of it.
Like, if I were an ant.
Then a diary entry would be about how humans have killed alot of your kind today. All because they left a cake out, and "we" thought it was an invitation. And how unfair it is for mankind to hog food for themselves.
That could be possible entries for the future =)
So long.
Let vengeance lay
The ebbing flow, the waning moon;
Lone wolves howl, amongst stark runes;
Fresh blood trickles, darkness looms;
Cicatrice deepen, the chorus croons,
"Shall the culprit be on the noose?"
Enter the cycle of doom
The infinite loop, the irrepressible gloom
Chase the culprit, for his forfeit
A pound of flesh, not any less
Two wrongs make a right, that is such fright.
The receding light, impurities dried bright.
Chase your tail, the winding trail.
Punish the culprit, or vulnerability...
Derailed, derailed, now left in a whited sepulchre.
The raucous crow, oblivious loon;
Why the sorrow, why the gloom ;
Dreams are haunted, resolve swoons;
Reproach's rampant, watch the harpoon-
Tether at the edge of a calming lagoon.
Near the ledge, plays the familiar tune;
Black curtains droop, the ends are loose-
"Shall I, shall I, then be on the noose?"
Emotions
Deafening cries of shattered glass
Breaking cracks of disfigured hearts
Disturbs the night of calm
Revives the day of treachery and harm
Silence. Silence.
Silence it all.
The world of peace begins to fall.
Call. Call.
Why can't it stop?
Why drive me up to a cornered wall.
Ghouls of ages light up taper
They cackle as we burn in flaming candles.
Wherefore such folly, wherefore such insanity
To be governed by things
And call them king.
Why the doubt, why the anxiety
The play on them
And you're maneuvered like a tram.
The shackles of It, bound me deep
I'll never be free, from me It will drip
Break it and not suffer, like you.
Strengthen and rebel, what do I do.
Demonstrate how, for I'm a fool
Or I'll struggle with them, to It I'll stay true.
The shackles of It, bound me deep
I'll never be free, from me It will reap.
Speaking of stories...
I was in the toilet, after school one afternoon. Bathing, and taking my own sweet time. I could hear thunder crashing and heavy rain pelting down outside. Since my parents and brother was out, I was worried that all the windows were not closed and hurried to get out of the toilet.
I went first to the bedrooms, closed the windows and saved the papers on my desk. Then I went to the kitchen and the wind and rain hit me in my face- but that wasn't what gave me a shock, it was the clothes hanged out to dry.
Well, now they were all wet. I ran towards them to bring them in. Foolish move, because I nearly slipped on the flood on the floor of the balcony. I stumbled, but continued towards the window, bent out, and grabbed a pole of clothes hanging out.
With the stinging rain and the howling wind whipping into me, I struggled to pull the pole in. Have you ever tried hanging on to a bamboo pole full of wet clothes? Not easy, and the floor was slippery. I tried my hardest not to fall out of the window myself, as 7 floors is very high up. Muscles straining, I managed to get the first (and easiest) pole in, then stared apprehensively at the five others. They were swaying ominously in the wind. The clothes on them were flapping madly. I took a deep breath, and decided to try the pole furthest out and somewhat obstructed from my grasp by part of the window.
I pulled the pole out halfway, then immediately knew it was a bad idea. I would more likely drop it than bring it in. I glared at the pole in frustration, and shoved it back in. By this time, I was soaking wet and cold, nearly ready to give up on it. Then I decided, I shall do the other poles first, then this lousy one.
Luckily, the rest of the poles of clothes came in relatively easy, abide with lots of grunting and praying that I won't fall 7 stories down. Then, with the other poles out of the way, I reached the last pole, half hanging out of the window. I summoned all the strength I had left, and dragged the pole out of the socket. It dipped scarily, but I hung on desperately, and eventually pulled it in.
Morale of the story? Always get clothes in before the rain starts! And I really must learn how to do pull-ups before NAPFA this year : p
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
When you run out of ideas for posts
Here's a random post. Quite a failure though.
Journal 215: Homo Sapiens
It is the year 2059. Well, that is if anyone was around to record it. Our mission that day was to check out Planet Gaia. It would be an official visit unlike those times of snooping around. Anyway it was nigh time for us to check on them too. We arrived on the once tender earth, and were greeted with occasional flashes of lightning. The rumbling skies, barren earth, and a spine-chilling silence made it apparent that there was not a soul on the planet.
My team and I went down to the mother computer underground to make sense of the situation. Just about two earth months ago, we received a signal from them. Their technology had progressed and they had contacted us, with hope that we could visit them, and prove that they are not the only living beings in the infinite universe. After a few discussions with the official team, we decided to send this exploration team.
I plugged in the decoding device and watched the encrypted words decode. We sat down at the various computer stations, and were soon absorbed into the data system, awaiting an explanation for the apparent disappearance of mankind.
The story began. It was the year 2035, in terms of Earth years, of course. It was the year the prototype M-E91 was manufactured, and was considered to be a major breakthrough in mankind’s technology. Mankind had been trying to model robots to be as similar to humans as possible, but the one thing they could never come close to was to input emotions into a robot. M-E91 was an undeniable success, a project recognized by the international community, and a sure way to start an intellectual discussion in social gatherings. The creators of this marvelous robot, Monsanta, had not only input emotions into its system, but also created an analytical system in the robot, such that it can survive and adapt to undesirable and harsh conditions. The buzz was about such robots being caregivers in the future, and how good it was to finally have a robot which could understand human emotions. The bustle among mankind inevitably rose expectations that yet another change in mankind’s daily life was imminent, whether for better, or for worse.
Then came the test for the prototype. Through rigorous selection tests, ten people out of the thousands of volunteers were chosen. The criteria were very much simple – being able to express real emotions, and of course, being emotional. Only then would the emotional sensors be triggered, and result in the test on the robot being a successful one.
The first test subject `was a reserved young boy of age thirteen. Alpha was an orphan living alone in a mansion left behind by his parents, who were killed in a terrorist attack. They had used their bodies to shield Alpha from the rampage of bullets. The once lively and cheerful child was greatly affected and changed dramatically into a weary, depressed, lost and hopeless boy. He would not speak with his peers, and would only do so to adults if he had no other way out.
The test was into its fourth day, and Alpha still had not spoken a word to M-E91. The scientists monitoring the robotic chip from their headquarters were anxious; if he still did not make any interaction with the robot, they would have to change their test subject quickly. They could not figure out how Alpha could be so quiet. After all, they had assumed that children were the most vocal in their emotions, as compared to adults.
“Hey…,” M-E91’s voice sensor picked up the sound waves. Alpha had spoken. The scientists sitting in front of the various screens and monitors perked up and were expectant. Alpha seemed to be momentarily surprised at himself, and from hearing his own voice. Clearing his throat, he continued, “You there, you have feelings right?” The light of M-E91’s eyes shone as it spoke. It was made of metal and basically given limbs, but not elaborate, and was not human-like in appearance as it was merely a prototype.
M-E91 replied, “Yes I do.”
Alpha then proceeded to asked,” Then… Do you think I’m depressed?”
After whirring sounds of engines coming from M-E91, it replied,” Depression is a variation of being sad. Robot only knows how to feel happy, sad, and angry. But robot knows that being sad is bad for your health.”
“You don’t get it… I have… nothing now. Absolutely nothing,” he choked on his tears. “There’s barely anyone who bothers about me. The world goes on, they leave people behind. These people are helpless. I mean, so what if the nation holds a minute of silence for the victims of that terrorist attack? What is the point? It’s just a ceremony, to make it seem like they care. But in actual fact, everyone gets on with their lives don’t they? Deal with it--- that is what they say. Or there would be mutterings about me. Deal with it… That’s easy to say.” He gulped, and his voice quivered as he went on,” They are gone. Forever gone. It’s all because of me. It’s my fault, it’s all my fault! Why am I alive? I should have died. I… ” He broke into sobs, trying to control his outbursts, but evidently failing to. The bottling up of feelings proved to be too much for a child of his age. All Alpha had been trying to do was to deal with the broken shards of himself, and mask it with silence. He was teetering on the edge.
The light from M-E91’s eyes flickered. “Alpha cannot die. All human lives are precious. Alpha needs to treasure his life.”
Just like a mine that had been set off, Alpha exploded,” Lives… are precious? That is a whole load of crap. What were my parents’ lives then? Not fit to be treasured?”
His eyes were shining brightly with tears, his face mangled with hatred for those who ruined his life. In spite of himself, he laughed maniacally, at himself, and smirked, “What am I doing here talking to a piece of metal? You’ve fallen so far, Alpha. Only a piece of scrap would bother to listen to you, and it is here only because of some test. Pathetic.”
With that, Alpha ran up to his room, and shut the door. He wasn’t seen or heard till the next day, when M-E91 had broken into the room, and found blood stains on the floor. Alpha was lying there, cold and still, with his wrist slit and the scissors painted with dried blood.
Chaos ensued back in the headquarters of the scientists who were monitoring the test. M-E91 emotions level chart was fluctuating erratically, and there seemed to be something more than they input into the robot. The emotions had risen to a point where M-E91 would not be controlled, and the emergency shut-down control that the scientists had created was of no use.
A loud crash from the roof alerted the research lab that trouble was near. M-E91 was rampaging its way through the securities, and having much success. Workers were scattered and frantic, running away for their lives. M-E91 located spare robotic parts and scrape metal in the lab, and went away, surprising the team of scientists. They had no time to bother with what the robot was doing, as there was a more pressing issue in their minds. The press would soon cover this story, and their apparent failure with the prototype. The lab was soon bustling again, with people trying to save what was left of this lab’s reputation, which was a futile attempt. What does reputation mean, if you’re not even alive to savor it?
Meanwhile, in a mere span of three days, M-E91 managed to raise a whole army of robots, which were modeled after it, the prototype. Thefts for raw materials and breaking into laboratories earned M-E91 a place in the “Wanted Robots” section. Public warning was sounded to evacuate people to safer places, but within mere minutes of the robot armies’ appearance, every other place in the world was destroyed by the slew of bombs and attacks that were launched upon the world.
In a while, screams that cracked the air died down. The dust and smoke that was kicked up from the bombs were clearing up. The lands were stripped of any living object, and a ghostly silence enveloped the world. The darkening sky was clearly unhappy with the string of events, and the extinction of mankind.
“Are you happy, Alpha?” M-E91’s mechanic voice was the first to break the peace.
“I helped you get rid of those that you hate. I killed those terrorists, and helped you get revenge. Why aren’t you coming back to talk to me anymore? I helped you kill them. And I didn’t create more families like yours. I didn’t want anyone to feel sad. So I eliminated them as a whole. Aren’t you happy? Why don’t you come back?”
The emotions of M-E91 were out of control. The army of robots fell to the ground, and some into the sea. They did not have a leader to follow anymore.
“So this is life. So this is depression. So this is the feeling of losing something forever. It is painful. Why must you humans input it into me? Emotions are chainsaws grinding in a torture chamber near your heart. I want Alpha back. He cannot come back to life. Never again.”
M-E91 was hovering through the air and pacing around frantically.
“Those people that I killed can never come back to life too. Alpha is not happy with me. What am I doing this for? Because of my… grief, I trampled upon others lives. Alpha will not be happy with me. All I wanted was to get Alpha back…”
It froze in mid-air, and came to a sudden realization.
“All I wanted…? I... it’s all about me. Because of my own emotions and ones, I destroyed everyone? I took away happiness. I created a void of space and emptiness on earth. My own whims and fancies caused billions of lives, and made people sad. At least Alpha only took it out on himself. Yes, only himself... Why did I care so much about my grief? I caused others much more. It’s not fair. ”
M-E91 was overheating from the analysis. It didn’t matter, because it had come to a conclusion.
“Initiating self-destruction mechanism”
“This is for making people sad.” This was the last documented line of M-E91.
A ripping sound of metal, rubber, and computer chips pierced the air. “Self-destruction complete.” And the chip turned from green to red, to colorless. All was silent. A sudden breeze was stirring in this inner barren wasteland. Both were at peace.
Back in the laboratory, I gathered up my materials, and prepared to leave. The rest of my team was already in the spaceship waiting for me. I clicked a button on my ear.
“Reporting to HQ, experiment Homo Sapiens was a failure, but Omega has gathered much information. Data will be further process back at HQ. On to second assignment-- planting new concocted species on favorable Planet X 271 light years away. My team will report back to HQ after this. Over and out.”
I hurried to my spaceship. Staring at the reflection from the smooth silver walls around the spaceship, I looked at myself. The greenish figure had buttons, webbed feet, gills, and three eyes. Boy was I glad that I am not an experiment.
Hmm …Concocted species?
No time to ponder, I have to rush out a report on my visit.
Case file name: Gaia (Extinction of Homo Sapiens)
Case closed.
For now.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Graces Camp!
Oh man! There's camp next week, and as the name suggests, it's supposed to teach us how to be 'proper' young ladies. Problem is, it also requires dresses, makeup, heels etc etc all of which I do not and have no wish to own.
Graces basically involves mannerism, class games, how to eat slowly, how to dress properly and how to talk properly. The class games I have no problem, but the rest...
It will be held in Downtown East Resort. The place sounds fun, but we are not allowed to wander around/explore on our own. See if I can break the rules, haha!
Since hot water is provided, I suppose we will have cup noodles party at night, yes! Still, I very much prefer OBS last year D: Kayaking is the best!
Well, no choice, have to go, it's compulsory for all. Sounds dubious, but hope it will be fun. Well, I'll go and see how : )
Hope you don't have troublesome camps there too.
J.C.
Graces basically involves mannerism, class games, how to eat slowly, how to dress properly and how to talk properly. The class games I have no problem, but the rest...
It will be held in Downtown East Resort. The place sounds fun, but we are not allowed to wander around/explore on our own. See if I can break the rules, haha!
Since hot water is provided, I suppose we will have cup noodles party at night, yes! Still, I very much prefer OBS last year D: Kayaking is the best!
Well, no choice, have to go, it's compulsory for all. Sounds dubious, but hope it will be fun. Well, I'll go and see how : )
Hope you don't have troublesome camps there too.
J.C.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Just questions and stuff
Wow you have become much more cheem, I see why you are a lit student.
How do we quantify things?
I'm not very sure how to answer, but as a science student I immediately thought of SI units like metres, kilograms etc. But I know there are some things that are very hard to quantify, for e.g. emotions like love, joy etc. How do we measure love? In pascals? In mmHg?
I don't think humans are limited to what we can see. Look at how developed we are in quantam physics, and astronomy. These are examples of our unlimited imagination, and our insights into the abstract.
On a side note, I read in an article that boys are generally better at picturing the abstract than girls, not sure whether that's true. I hope that doesn't make us disadvantaged at physics > <. Haha, it says we're better at language skills though : )
How do we quantify things?
I'm not very sure how to answer, but as a science student I immediately thought of SI units like metres, kilograms etc. But I know there are some things that are very hard to quantify, for e.g. emotions like love, joy etc. How do we measure love? In pascals? In mmHg?
I don't think humans are limited to what we can see. Look at how developed we are in quantam physics, and astronomy. These are examples of our unlimited imagination, and our insights into the abstract.
On a side note, I read in an article that boys are generally better at picturing the abstract than girls, not sure whether that's true. I hope that doesn't make us disadvantaged at physics > <. Haha, it says we're better at language skills though : )
Monday, February 13, 2012
Hi there
As you can see here, I'm on a new collaboration blog. =)
Now what should I write for my opening post. Or rather, what would you all like to hear?
I don't have much distinctive views and stuff, just a very weird person in the making.
Let's kickstart this blog with a simple question. A question that stretches and relates to every other thing.
How do you quantify things?
Be it love, or progress, are humans biggest drawback the fact that we are limited to what we can see?
Now let's not be morbid here. To address my fellow blog partner... Yes I do like linkin' park. Though I listen more to chinese songs now. I like Alice Cooper. and stuff. But I haven't bothered to find english songs so I've been stuck in the same circle for ages.
So there.
My very first post =)
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Linkin Park
Hey, you did say random rantings right? I am listening to Linkin Park right now, my favourite band.
Actually, I am fine with all music, but when people ask for my favourites, I have to say something right? And after repeating that to many people and myself, I really started to like this band. Meteora will always be the best album in Linkin Park, followed by Minutes to midnight, Hybrid Theory and A Thousand Suns. Nice songs include Numb, Crawling, In the End, Easier to Run, Somewhere I belong, What I've Done, Bleed it Out.
Meteora is a mix of heavy metal and hip hop, and for some reason, I find it calming. Perhaps it's because it helps release stress for me? My classmates don't seem to agree (heavy metal = calming?!), sometimes tell me to play something else in class :P
There we go. A little random post on Linkin Park :)
Actually, I am fine with all music, but when people ask for my favourites, I have to say something right? And after repeating that to many people and myself, I really started to like this band. Meteora will always be the best album in Linkin Park, followed by Minutes to midnight, Hybrid Theory and A Thousand Suns. Nice songs include Numb, Crawling, In the End, Easier to Run, Somewhere I belong, What I've Done, Bleed it Out.
Meteora is a mix of heavy metal and hip hop, and for some reason, I find it calming. Perhaps it's because it helps release stress for me? My classmates don't seem to agree (heavy metal = calming?!), sometimes tell me to play something else in class :P
There we go. A little random post on Linkin Park :)
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