Youth

They didn't warn me
when I was running wild
the dragons breathing fire
in the backyard at night

we live in circles
and its so hard to breath

maybe the same old fears what have we here
don't bring me down with you

now I'm just chasing time
with a thousand dreams I'm holding heavy
and as we cross the line these fading beats have all been severed
don't tell me our youth is running out
Its only just begun

If I asked you for good news
would you smile and turn away
its like a bad dream that is too afraid to wake

there are many among us
and we're changing all the time
maybe the same old fears what have we here
don't bring me down with you

now I'm just chasing time
with a thousand dreams I'm holding heavy
and as we cross the line these fading beats have all been severed
don't tell me our youth is running out

Its only just begun

 

The Quantifiable Absence

Loss is quantifiable. 

The absence of the stimuli for a loss is quantifiable. 

Because if the stimuli to be lost is inherent, thereafter the presence of the absence denotes a loss even if the stimuli was never present.

*and when I say quantifiable, I mean it in the loosest sense possible. Obviously certain losses cannot be expressed in numerical terms, pffft. You know that, silly*

I went back to Malaysia a few months ago. Apparently it takes me six months and an 'Ah ha!' moment (ala Oprah) in the shower at 1 in the morning to actually make head or tails of my emotional experience. 

Growing up, I've always felt a sadness within me, and I couldn't explain it which made it even worse, because it meant that I couldn't fix whatever was bothering me. 

It was depressing. My teenage years were a cacophony vortex of hormones and tears. Well, mostly tears - the hormones didn't do much of a job and I'm still stuck in a 5'6'' gangly frame and probably will be for the rest of my life. Wa-hay to me! Knowing Malaysia, the heat made it unbearable. At times I felt like the humidity was the force propping up the four walls that held me captive. 

Blood dotted my bedsheets as claustrophobia crept up and I'd itch to free myself. Maybe my body thought that shedding physical skin would offer respite to the psychological strangulation I was experiencing. Anyhow it just made the nights longer, drearier, scarier - as shadows danced against the backlit walls, leaving me with the heaviness of my thoughts. 

Sleep eluded me for the most part.

After coming to the UK things started looking up. That's when I realised, I could never go back. If I did, it would kill me inside.

See, returning to Malaysia gave me a damning reality check. As much as I love and miss my parents, my family, my friends, the hurt I've always felt stemmed from a loss that I never even had, let alone lost:

Freedom.

Not just the relinquish of parental control, but more of absolute freedom. I was physically disabled to a car. I did not have the option of just packing and going. Even then, where would I go? Nowhere appealed to me. 

Mired in solitude. 

It scares me. I remember lying in my old bed staring at the ceiling - and it felt like nothing has changed at all. It felt like the past three years in a foreign land was just a wishful dream. 

And that feeling was even worse.

A man born blind will always be missing the piece within himself of never seeing the gloriousness of a rainbow. Turn a man blind and he will pine for that missing piece - for the rest of his life. 

"What greater torture there is than that which was once held but now forever gone?"

The Avoidance of TomFuckery

I will be myself
Speak the truth
Mind my manners
For fear of sounding uncouth

I will not judge
On appearance, culture, religion or race
Nor ahold to stereotypes
Ne'er an individual demarcate

Lest there be squabbles or tombitchery about
Shall my head keep cool
My voice serene and sound

Lest there be imbeciles or tomfuckeries about
Oh bloody hell,
Lets get the boxing gloves out.

For see, my friend
A lesser stature, an inglorious face
A rotund waistline
Dost not giveth the right to spew idiotic idioms

Whose stupidity hides the careless maintenance of a mane
Half chopped, half chewed - I honestly couldn't say

Dost thee speak so loudest
To hide the fact of other equipment, rather modest?

Dost thee strut around similar to an arrogant fowl
A foible fully festooned to the fables of a fool?

'What an idiot!' I must say
A jerk, a prick, a tool, a wanker
'Off with him!' I'm tempted to exclaim
A tosser, a chav, a slapdick thot

Theresee children, for all is right in the world
As tomfooleries about
The hell they fucking around!

Say nay a word of evil, nor do a deed of harm
Until the male ratchet frat come and get you
Screw them till they scream for their mom.

Nice Person

I'd like to think of myself as a nice person

One with a kind heart, who will do the right thing

But would I still be nice

If no one thought I was?

Will I still be kind

If my deeds go unappreciated?

In life, are we defined by the image of ourselves

Can we change who we are, who we want to be

And be satisfied with it;

Or are we just a product of definition?

The Make Up, the Break Up and Everything In Between

I realise it had been quite awhile since I've posted up any ramblings onto this site. Mostly it's incoherent poems, unimaginative plagiarism of lyrics and what-not.

Perhaps I've finally felt a need to put paper to pen and immortalise my emotions in writing rather than through an inconsequential whiff of speech that decidedly falls on deaf eyes. At least this way, I'll have a way of retaining my thoughts.

Today, I made a bet to myself, to the Universe, to the Blue Fairy - Whoever calls me first actually cares or retains some form of feeling similar to love for me. Needless to say, I lost the bet. (That'll teach me to put in all my chips at one go!)

I expected it, really. But to be given a harsh slap of reality is a bitter medicine that no amount of sugar can make go down - you just gotta grit your teeth and swallow the mofo.

Maybe it's karma. Maybe it's bad juju. Maybe it's just life.

To be honest, I think I got into many relationships the wrong way. I've always presented this façade of who I WANT to be. How many have actually seen who I AM.

I'm not the trendy whippersnapper with the glistening quiff and gorgeous wardrobe, attending raves and parties all over metropolitan cities. I not the person everybody wants to invite out, that gatherings revolve about, the fun buddy everyone adores. I can't dance, can barely bring myself to raise my arms, let alone do the dougie and actually look cool doing it.

I've struggled all my life with my looks, my skin, my weight, my clothes, my social skills. I struggle to make friends, to keep friends, or to maintain a semblance of healthy acquaintanceship. Heck, when someone told me the other day that they wish they had hair like mine, I nearly cried!

I'VE NEVER HAD NICE HAIR.

Says a lot doesn't it.

Ending the relationship was tough. Finding someone who could tolerate my fickle moods was near to impossible, yet the person managed to do it, if so for a limited period of time.

Yet deep down , I knew that the relationship was based on a lie. I did not have the capability to be something the person wanted. I'm not hip or cool, I had barely any connections in this foreign land and would always be the wallflower at the party. I put my career first, I work hard, I was in an isolated area that made building a social life very difficult.

In the end, it just gets to you. Especially if you put a lot of emphasis into living the night scene.

Tiresome. That's what it became. Tedious, drawn out.

At least to the other person.

I knew the year was tough, and it was. Because of that, we didn't even last 12 months.

'I came with nothing, I'll leave with nothing'

That statement rings hollow, resounding in the empty chambers of my forlorn heart. I came with nothing, left with something and gave up even more.

But no more. No more.

It's over. We're through.




Sometimes I wish I could turn the clock back, save me all this heartache. Return to the pessimist that scoffed at love, the sadist that enjoyed the pain of solitude, the mourner that grieved the death of a emotion.

But I can't, and I won't.

What we created were memories. Happy, sad - I can't deny that they'll form the person I will be in the future. We learn, we grow; We live, we die.


All I can say is, thank you for the time.

Thank you for the experiences.

Thank you for the memories.


Now, it's time to wake up

and move on. 

I'm wide awake.

Spring Summer Autumn Winter

Spring taught me,
That there'll always be a chance to grow
Should I be willing to nurture
Culture
An inherent goodness
And, like the rolling pastures,
Dew drop flowers
Beauty emerges from the muddiest depths
To clad the wispy mists

Summer lectured me,
On the voraciousness of infatuation
The fiery heat of passion
To inculcate the ecstasy of life
To never lose my sense of
Freedom
Adventure
Imagination
Love

Autumn took my hand,
Led me up
Ever-changing glades of emotions
And therein I understand
Of loss
Of found
Of something gained
Of forfeiture
Should the crisp air burn my lungs
Would the soft rays ease my skin

Winter sat me down,
And there I cried
On a frosty throne in the midst
My tears froze, for it did not let me
Did not understand
Being alone, is not loneliness
To disconnect, is not to isolate
To never lose sight
Of what's inside
Should my heart be warm
Even while my chest freezes over

I learned of cycles
Of joy and pain
I learned of waves
Of need and naught
I learned that life
And death's not far
I learned that fate
Matches destiny, bizarre

Winter graduated me
With a scar on my chest
Spring let me in
And laid a butterfly to rest
On this weary soul
And now I know

For I am but a student
In this four seasons of existence
Should I ever fail,

*Get up*
*Straighten those shoulders*

Shall the wind be there to listen.

Party up the sorrow 'til tomorrow morning happens

Devils used to be gods,

Angels that fell from the top

Despaired and forlorn

Wings shed and sworn

To doom, to dance in the fires of Hell

To laugh, and cry trickles of blood

To pine for, a glory that never was

To endure, a suffering that'll never be lost.

I will not be a mannequin.

The ego banish it.

The roof's on fire.

Lets burn down the Vatican.

Party up the sorrow 'til tomorrow morning happens.
We pledge allegiance to the DJ put your hands up.

And we danced.

And we cried.

And we laughed 

And had a really really really good time.

Take my hand.

Lets have a blast.

And remember this moment for the rest of our lives.

Yes.

Lets remember this moment for the rest of our lives.

Shake It Off

Regrets collect like old friends

Here to relive your darkest moments

I can see no way, I can see no way

And all of the ghouls come out to play

And every demon wants his pound of flesh

But I like to keep some things to myself

I like to keep my issues strong

It's always darkest before the dawn

And I've been a fool and I've been blind

I can never leave the past behind

I can see no way, I can see no way

I'm always dragging that horse around

Our love is pastured such a mournful sound

Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground

So I like to keep my issues strong

But it's always darkest before the dawn

'Cause I am done with my graceless heart

So tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart

'Cause I like to keep my issues strong

It's always darkest before the dawn

And it's hard to dance with the devil on your back 

And given half the chance would I take any of it back

It's a final mess but it's left me so empty

It's always darkest before the dawn

And I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't

So here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road

And I'm ready to suffer and I'm ready to hope

It's a shot in the dark aimed right at my throat

Looking for heaven, for the devil in me

Goodbye, my friend

Dear 2012,

We started out with something good,

And ended up with something great.

Cheers,

To many more to come