The Fight.

You took it away from me. I fought with confidence to no cause, because it was already gone! Where were you when I needed you most. It is as if there is a huge separation within me. One loved, and the other of hate. Hate loves the lonely; it grows in your loneliest time, it evolves to disgust, and to other compulsive habits. Pity that only those who love in giving and in receiving may fully benefit its miracles. Why fight? There is so much beauty in giving up... the release of everything that matters, whether significant or little in concern. Just let go, step away from this losing battle. Time determines, for that separation to complete, and when it comes to choosing between loving or hating. One individualized, the other for the world. I may have already chosen love for the world, thus hatred thrives within. Pardon my life. Pardon my sorrow. Pardon my betrayal. The longest night, and the coldest winter, I may just find the hand of peace craddling me to sleep. What is hunger, but the hunger for completion. What is desire, but the desire for perfection. I surrender. This fight is over. 

Dream Taste.

WE did not get a say to the circumstance in which we were born in. This I figured, is the reason why we may actually have an individual purpose through this lifetime. Else, if we were the creators of our own lives, then we would have been given the choice of creation.

Notice how if you may want something that is unachievable by hard work, you probably would not get it. However, if it is something you never put much thought in, then probably, it becomes you. Saying this, further shows how our desires seldom come in consideration in the ultimate purpose of existence.

What is?

Perhaps, being at peace and accepting ourselves as we are. Change for the better, live for the better, do it all for the betterment not just selfishly, but selflessly, the general betterment. Perhaps then, we would be allowed the chance to knowing the biggest picture.

IF. Not a nice word at all.

My Beliefs.

I believe we are equal.

I believe effort is parallel with success.

I believe in wisdom.

I believe in the loving God.

Searching.

In love, some singles are in search of their other half.

They say, "I'm finding."

But to find, is to know what you are looking for.

And to know in specifics.

Because if you find something that looks like what you are looking for, but actually isn't in time, you will be upset.

So perhaps, to stop this search would be wise.

Instead, be wise, and be found.

Seating the Backseat.

I may be learning something new here. Allowing myself to understand how I'd deal with the situation should it not be me but someone else, some sort of a third person's point of view. I tried it myself, and it worked instantaneously.

Taking a step back, seating the backseat, allowing myself a clearer picture of the drivers. How the game is played, even if it isn't a game, how the romance is conducted. Time be the judge in all affairs, allowing space to collapse, to fully knowing and understanding someone before a commitment is made. How could it have been so hard, is this a lesson life has staged for me to go through? This certainly feels wrong somehow in my insides, as if the picture painted so beautifully before me, a massacre of sorts.

One who falls fast, falls hard just as quick. I've gone through enough to know that it would be wise falling slowly, breathing the fall, living it, committing to it, and should I touch ground, I'd still break, least I compensate in beauty of experience.

Breathe, another step back.

Observe yourself, not promising the impossible, not being over ambitious, not empathizing fully should I lose myself then. I trust that I understand me, what I seek, what my desires are. Honesty in all, I would never, or at the very least try not to shape a person into my vision, for acceptance is best, love is better though. Just what happens then, if my limits are reached, and everything else deems unacceptable. I fear to imagine, pray Time saves me the trouble when it comes.

One step back, breathe, live the moment (wisely, practically), see the almighty beauty of Love.

Time Tock-s On.

Two men watch me in my sleep. By the wall, he stares on emotionless. By the ceiling lamp, he glares down, but he isn't always there. Waiting for a return, but why all the worry. Troubled is the heart somebody has taken what it wants, what is. Spiralling a trap. Lost in twirls of dark thoughts, dark feelings, and dark beings. I wiggle my toes, kiss my arms, to bring me back to life. To remind that death escapes life, but forfeits experience. This existence is my own. Trap in a spiral. We repeat, constantly, round and around we go, far, near, beyond, further, yet we return. Something that is taught, or hasn't been taught, how used to set ways, the nurture of our existence. How late is no turning back?

What Seems To Be the Now.

Ha. Uh. Bring it. To, to, to, a truck full of load, wham, yeah! The rumbling of the world, echoing in my mind. Of past happenings, trying not to hold myself from the truth of me. Let this, be a clearing of paths, a new understanding of the actual difference between perspectives of expectations, and realities. How suddenly you wish to enclose yourself in a bubble, and let it carry you to your highest point, against the fact that you're sinking into the darkest depths of the well you made up. What's meant to help has taken you hostage to your very own being. It feels as if at this moment, everything has been said already. What's left are lies you constantly invent to help distract others from what they don't know, from what you don't want them to know. After all, why trust? Humanity had fallen, is falling, and in my lifetime, will do nothing but fall further. How the smallest flutter of a wing is believed to cause a hurricane on the other side of the planes, hence all actions to the cause and courses of life. Just close your eyes at any given chaos, the darkness may bring you the peace you so need. As to how the genie emerges in bellowing clouds of wonder smoke, so is your face to my mind. Is this how one becomes infatuated? It seems the more I touch my mind to put it in use, the tiniest stroke of thoughts leads back to you. I need a rinse of the blessings of joy, and more clarity.

Fall, and He Falls.

What have you that I don't... what have you that I need?
What have I that you see not? What have I that gives you great pleasure?
What have you that gets me wild, mad with desires?
What have the changing times, I only seek you?
What have me, what have you?

Bliss, The Mind.

A certain melancholy fills the air, and as we're the sponge of all emotions, I had the chance to tap into this field.

Tap, tap-tap, tap...

Who do you miss? Who do you love? Who do you think most of? To whom does the beat skips its rhythm?

"And so it is," sang, "the coldest water."

When one spirals down the path of love, the heart is exercised into further levels of the capability to feel.

We can think, but we can never understand fully.

Should the questions be answered though,

(A moment of endorphin release)

bliss is felt.

Wham, Comes The Tide.

The not believing.
The detach, the...
flight, escape, release, burst, exit, letting go, separation,
Fall of all good,
Swirl, deep down after a wave,
Sweeps all into death,
Withdrawal.

Beat down tracks to a cause,
Whack, understanding a punch,
Swam, against all tides,
Of destruction,
To begin anew.

Tremor beneath the skin,
Tremble of the body,
Shaking the soul,
Seeking an opening,
To recover.

The need to share, to allow others in. In what exactly? Into understanding of one's own. The necessity isn't there, yet life isn't necessary. Then to what extend?

This Time, Rant.

So in all honesty, with all the political fiascos happening back home, I have no intention to be a part of any of it. Go fight, yay you, but me, nah, I'm happy here, lazying around wasting what little money I've got trying to do what I please, and hoo-hah, trying to be, well, happy. A friend decided to check the balance in his account in front of me, and he, not bother hiding the figures had me seeing them, and I sure was envious after. We discussed a little on our finances after I bombarded him with questions of all sorts on i.e. methods, mindset, he uses/has to be able to accumulate such a sum in just two years. He is not the kind who sits at home, and eats crumbs, but we're talking of a guy who shops the brands in Europe, then goes back home to collect rent from two houses of which he owns, and does what I do in our free time, but yet, behold, that six figure amount. I mean, how? I once heard from a fifty something lady-colleague who in all her years probably had gathered some wisdom and maturity, said that some people are just not meant to do it all (buy houses, save large sums of money, strike balance etc.). I took it as a fact of life, only because I believe that that somebody could be me, and that it gives me great comfort in accepting defeat from my own mind. I have entered the working class at a young age, and one might think in all my years of serving the companies I worked, am working for, have me a little money aside but I don't. I am clueless to what I do with my money, not clueless to how I spend, but on how to save. I know I eat whatever I like, drink whenever I want, do whatever I please, and have been so please with myself, content to fulfilling all my needs yet deep down, more like way up in the area-of-influences of the mind, it feels wrong. People say I should start saving, be responsible like an adult, buy properties, have an education, take a wife, marry, and reproduce, but what if I say that this isn't what I want. It is frustrating growing up, makes me nauseous to know that I am not doing the things that I should be doing. Then there's that article I read that people in their twenties should not act irresponsibly because life, after all, is just lived once, and that one time should "mandate to the norms of social mentality and conduct", as I put it in my own words. I'm tired. I just want to live a simple life, possibly without the need to worry to save, without the worry to have the urge to buy properties, and without worry at all. God, help me.

A Sigh of Rejection.

I voiced out what I thought could be the truth, and that a change could benefit many from feelings of oppression. However, the rejection of my desire for that change, in addition, choice of words that belittled me, left me with the humiliation of what I stood for, quite so passionately in the beginning. Have I not learned that one voice is of no power? My judgement to another who spoke of her passions, had karma bringing back that very judgement upon myself. I need to slowly rid myself of the guilt that was composed in reply to my plead. I have acquired a way to drop, simply shut off feelings of negativity, but that still has to be sharpened. Acceptance is key. When one accepts, one simply becomes a conqueror to all forms of adversities.

In a bag, a bag of thoughts, thoughts of the eternal. Refusal of being a slave to a mind which has no originality, though desires of a world before the fall. Nothing has purity, than the world itself, the untouched world of course. Sweetness of release, and partaking the joy of dissipating into all that is Now. No longer shall there be attachments to nothing, for everything is nothing, as nothing lasts forever.

Is Death allowed a say? What would he say? That our journey after either could be horrendous, or victorious? Then the unanswered questions of the 'afterlife'; spiral of beliefs.

What does this mean?

An, Ardent.

There's a breeze felt on my skin, tingling me into reminiscing about all the beautiful things in life, the wonderful bits of love I had experienced this far. Deeper in my heart, there's a hollow space, but it is beautiful. I can feel happy tears edging out...

Hold me,
Stay with me for a million years,
Harm me not with wrong doings,
Allow me a space in you,
As I allow all of me for you...

Love me...
Let there be chaos,
Let there be regrets,
Let there be odds against us,
But we shall be seen through it all.

I'll give all for you,
All for your sake,
Right to death's plunge,
To make you feel my love.

A little nibble of affection on my emotions. A little air of seduction caressing me like invisible fingers of winds. A torture so melodious I feel almost true to the aching it is causing me. I beg to feel more. I beg to just sway in this beauty. This cannot be described. Just so much beauty, and glory, in me, for you.

A Storm, Not Seen.

What's a second when there's the third? What's a number when the only thing that matters is in the heart? How much can be given, with sufficient amount of self left inside before a person plunges deeper into the darker depths of melancholy? What's the attention, when asked with guilt? Have not the lesson learned ages back that life may only get good when one relates love and secrecy to his own? Perhaps all in all, the only answer is a slumber beneath the rumble of humanity. A moving of life unknown of the magnitude of its very existence, a deeper wound that only time, and a sharper blade shall severe off its hypocrisy. Lamentably, no condolences could be expressed for nil would be.

I believe in the ripple, so much so, I believe I am the ripple. Not the cause, but of its composition. Infinite multiplications of circumferences, but gradually belittling itself in unconscious hopes that what's now, could be felt no more, or seen as a matter in fact.

Can two storms befriend the other, and share a common goal of disrupting calm, and all that is collected? What is peace in a moment, made to feel like chaos the next! Who is to agree on an accuracy of a prediction? False opinions, unrealistic perspectives, and make believe make-beliefs.

All I ask is for peace, for humility, and for love.

Starstruck.

It felt surreal. It made me feel big. Like I was part of the scene. It brought my teenage years back where I played lead, of which I played well. I have always wanted the biggest, life can offer, I still do. Every night, I say my thanks to my Creator, and I envision the biggest, brightest, most comfortable future that I can ever imagine to be in. Whether it comes true, I do not know, but honestly, I do not quite care, for I dream too big, and clearly too high, that my own self does not believe it in coming true. What does it matter? But when I was starstruck upon meeting a celebrity, it jolted my reality into realising the emotions I had, still have, when I dream my better life. Upon contact with her, my being shifted, it made me believe that the motion towards achieving the dream I have for myself, has started. Too big, too high, but it only takes one life to determine whether or not, it to be dream.

Finding The Lost.

I'm neither here nor there. I'm never anywhere, will never be everywhere. Internalizing my world, expanding a collapse, sinking to the depths of being, hope to bring one. Creation is ongoing. What's being destroyed is a renewal of what has been created. I know not much of this world, and I lack understanding of my own fall. All I know is, it's the only road I am ever aware of, the easiest and most comfortable one, a path I call my own. So what's perfection then? Like it has always been, Adam & Eve, Eden. Truth, simplicity, and the idea of eternity. My parents portrayed the best marriage, almost flawless. I beg my world would come close. But that's a part of me which fell, that perfection can only happen in the older generation, which is where I'm stuck, an old mind. Fix me on my basic necessities and I'm good to go. I'm grateful being blessed to see the world at such a young age, and truly it has broaden my mind on living, but it has change nothing. If I'm truly out there, I wish I could find myself again.

Not This Time.

To grasp, to be made into one's own is a process requiring strength and passion, despite the duration. Unless one submerge wholly into all factors that may contribute to the act of acquiring, then shall the time be reduced. Simply a want isn't sufficient, a need may cause a second thought, a desire has to be constantly fed with energy that is from both mental, and physical. Rewards, as are always the sweetest taste at the end of the race. The journey isn't the focus, yet it is where life generates, where when looked back, makes up the entire feel of that predestined goal. This may all be illustrated with a two dimensional image of the caricature of a person before a hill, first knowing that the ambition of the reward manipulates the inclination of mentioned hill. As the comic proceeds, notice the little that actually persists against all obstacles, savouring the peak.