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!
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