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.

Another Icicle.

Hardly one shall be missed or understood in this whole ordeal. This is the withdrawal. The drain after the shower. The release after the capture. The giving after a taking. In the absence of an awareness as when one lives in the moment, I have left my heart unguarded. Filled with passion and love for that temporal time, I beget nothing now that all is done. Everything else shall be left unsaid. There's only so much can one give to others. Let not then I be the fool, the subject of ridicule to my own carelessness. But is this the path worth taking? Because it made me feel alive. It made me feel wanted, desired, it filled my heart with hopes. It felt so good to be loved. Especially when one loves back to perfection. What a tease life had done unto me. I thanked with such sincere gratitude not knowing the feelings I would achingly feel in this horrendous aftermath. I still have my pride of which that matters. Nevertheless, what use is of my pride now but a reminder to regrets of all that I could have achieve but which I didn't. O the sorrow. So much pleasure, so much pain.