Speaker VS. Listener

BLah.

Blah.

yak-

kity,

)(*&^%$#@!@$%

yak.

yak.

mumble.

rahh,

rahh..

blah.

blah.

huh..

)*^%!#$%^&*^^^&%$%

chatter..

babble.

...........................................................

............................

These are what your words mean when you moan.

Crash.Break.

Ever felt like driving the car so fast to just smash into whatever that comes before your eyes? Or to just admire all those pretty things in your room,placed orderly in particular positions, only to find yourself wanting more than ever to wipe them all away?Or to notice a pretty green garden and to just have the desire to stomp al over those pathetic daisies and dandelions?

pretty.
good.
and nice.

..are all words we learned to associate with things that are neat and organized.Arranged in particular ways to produce particular 'desirable' effects.Anything other than what the ordinary is, is suppose to be..

ugly.
disturbing.
and wrong.

When your 'world' is painted with heart-wrenching events.
You hear things that make you hurl and wither.
Uexpected stories that triggers your point of sanity.
and come across incidences that distracts your 'normal' parameters.

you complain.
moan.
ache.

only to find yourself disappearing into thin air.
As you allow these moments to chew on to your soul.
Forced to re-negotiate your current state of being.
What becomes of you?

Thinking of the rock stars now....
just Grab a guitar.
strum it out of your wits.
and smash it like a mad-man.

If only hitting a person is legal and 'normal'.
sigh, Punch. punch. kick.

Limitations..

You either know of it or wait till it hits you hard.

If only these boundaries are visible enough that you're able to measure as to when and where to stop.

sometimes its good to stop for a moment..

if only we knew when enough is enough.

Sick Cycle Carousel

You find yourself trapped in a merry-go-round.
Except you find that you're no longer smiling with glee whilst enjoying the breeze,
tousling your hair.
You find yourself gripping on tight to the handle bar,
not knowing why you're still riding it when you feel the urge to hurl.
Not knowing how to jump off from the endless spin.
Not knowing what's awaiting for you out there.
clenched your fist and closed your eyes..
you continue to breathe in the air..
watching yourself spin round and r o u n d.
today, here and now.
again
and again.

Break away from one carousel and stumble on to the next..
Unless if you come across a collage of cycles..?
Like the mechanisms behind a grandfather clock.
Leap across from one to another,
you face cycles that intertwines with one another..
Perhaps you know what to expect
but the experiences are never the same,
you feel differently,
you react differently.

It's suppose to be safer to hang on rather than to let go,
because you'd be flying off into unknown directions.
why?
you love the torture till its hard to let go?
you love it regardless of the burden that comes along with it..
too afraid to be otherwise?

S i l e n c e.

..how much of it can you take?

1 second?

1 minute?

1 hour.

1 day.

1 week.

1 month?

no voice.

no sound.

no melody.

no music.

..but,is it truly silent when you're still able to 'hear' the voices in your thoughts?

pure silence.

can you handle it?

Escapism

How do you endeavour this particular interest of yours?
Perhaps the best moment in the day is when you experience this momentary feeling that dissolves the 'real'.
Some engage so often in it that it becomes a part of who they are. Day-dreaming, alcoholism, drugs, love, endorphins, trips, what have you?
why do you crave?why do you dream?why do you need..
some believe that imaginations, if practiced often enough will eventually take on a concrete form. where the notion of possibilities comes in mind.
"dreams come true" (what a cliche sentence)
you hear it so frequently,everywhere and some point in your life. repetitive.
some form of reminder.
you believe...
but then no matter how surreal your life may be, you will always be able to draw a line in what depicts reality or otherwise.
do you live a better life when you constantly escape..?
you're aware to how much you love it, how desperate you crave for it..
as though you're applying the photo-shop application to
what you see, your eyes..your vision..
the scenery, the people, the objects...
coloured, grey scale, crayon, sketched, embossed..
you imagine so far, so distant.
and when that one miserable second of bliss comes to an end, you wake up to a picture you claim to be whats real.
the familiar.
the suposse'd.
the 'this is'.
so here you are.

The wonders of a 'nobody'.

The US elections for 2008 seem to consist of idealistic candidates. NOT trying to be stereotype or anything but consider how one candidate is a woman (now comes the possibility for the first US woman president?) while another is an African-American (seriously now, a possibility of a non-white president?)
Sometimes the US propaganda's/agendas appear to be movie material. I wonder, are there hidden agendas (though very often we assume that there's always a hidden motive behind everything) or is this really going to happen.
why does it matter?
(yes,Malaysia will be having an election too which is equally important for a Malaysian individual)
But, the US has always been a solitary power that can affect the interactive patterns within global networks. Who comes into play is always important because it determines whether the US reputation can make a change for once, or will they persist with their unfavourable status?
Will they finally make desirable changes to how the world functions (at least on conventional terms) or will they continue to use their privileged role in different ways?

The truth is no-where.

When your belief system constantly deteriorates,
you somehow have no choice but to seek out for an alternative,
something to replace that emptiness you tend to live in,
the undying search for the truth,
suddenly becomes so ambiguous,
because days that go by only teaches you otherwise,
that maybe there isn't this so-called truth that you long for,

perhaps religion is the best comfort zone you can rely on,
but this option is not applicable
when you find that hope and faith is nothing
but foreign meanings to you
and then comes in the power of knowledge
of variable philosophers and thinkers
whom have dealt with these never-ending questions

you argue that they are merely another bunch of pathetic beings
most unlikely to be rare individuals
because they do what everyone else does
ponder,dwell,moan,question,think
about the questions that has NEVER been answered
there is nothing out there that is labeled as the ideal truth
or the definite answer
no confirmation
no check and balances

..then comes this theory
that there isn't 'one' truth,
quote: "it's not about finding the big (T)ruth but more of the variation of (t)ruths that has been constructed to shape our reality"
[Foucault-ian thinking]

"HOly moley..."

what a lovely thought.
BUT,
doesn't that bring you back to square one, where there's never going to be THE truth.

curses.

Ironic.

How life lessons can come around when its least expected.
Better yet, how the lessons tend to bite you back real hard.
Question is, are these lessons sufficient in teaching us whats right or wrong?
Why do we only learn when its too late?

Nothing.

breaking.break.break.

pieces falling into place.
seasons changing time
time changing skies.

and its autumn
watch the leaves wither
and fade away

like your soul and mine
brushed off by the wind
turned into yellow crisps

and your heart
beating so fast
you run and fall.

your pace so fast
you be breathless
and you just fall.

curled up on
wet green grass
sweet smell of dew
bitter smell of pain

cringed.static.shaken.

so alive.

memories fade...

There comes a time,
when you realize that memories are fading,
due to its non-physical features...
you suddenly find it so difficult to grasp on to what you use to know...
what you use to remember..
does it eventually fade away?
so long as those involved in those memories elapsed away in time as well?
no one there to remind you of those days,
no one there to share those laughter's you once knew.
no one there to reminisce the days of light-hearted worries.
Shouldn't memories be a part of our existence?
to who we are and what we become?
then why does it fade away...
why are they constantly being re-negotiated by the mind?
what if the days comes when no one else is around to be your witness of those incidences?
would you then re-arrange those fragmented memories into something so foreign from what you know
or would you spell out those little pieces and attempt to create a broken picture...
or would you let it slip away in time...
and just allow it to fade as though it was never there..
what if as time goes by it is no longer an option?
when age beckons and your memory will becomes weaker..
What more of the evil amnesia?
would it make life easier to forget?

"Do you remember...."