she went into the shop
asked the salesman for a special one
HE said: " Special ones never come by easy, are you sure you want it now? Are you sure it is the right time? Are you not afraid?"
She said: " YES, im pretty sure this is the one. The one I am looking for. I am not gonna wait no more."
The salesman laughed, an evil laughter. HE passed the product over to her.
HE said: "You made the decision. Im pretty there are better ones out there in other places, but if you insist... there you go!"
she walked out feeling on the of the world.
But now she's dead. Murdered. By what feels so right.
The man heard and laughed. That evil laughter.

Im opening up the old wound
Making myself all vulnerable again
It's suicidal
It's insane
I'm opening myself up to trouble
But i kinda like the trouble
In fact, its an obsession
The more i like it, the deeper i fall, the more vulnerable i am.
Let's hope that danger will never let me down (again - not).

Break free.
From the labelling, the stigma, the perception, the norm or what you're valued by others.
you are who you are
nobody knows you better than other yourself.
why bother 

Fascination of my abomination.
I'm literally screwed. Late assignment and not to mention wrong format.
Hurray.

I wanna kiss you
But if i do i might miss you, babe
It's complicated and stupid

Let's play a love game.
I love game.

So long, good bye

Writing is not permanent, you are able to erase, rewrite, edit and even twist it.
An essay may be made up of a thousand lies.
It may be re edited, re crafted to put the narrator in the best light.
The only truth within may be the intention of the writer,
or there may not be any truth at all.
Maybe the writer got lost and intertwined within the multiple lies,
that there may not be any true distinctions between truth and lies.
The lies became true-er than it seems
while the truth may turn into some absurd lie.
a truth made up of a thousand lies.
Maybe that's life.

I'm so glad that it's over.
It's ends tonight.
I shall start mugging tomorrow.

I have changed my LJ setting to allow guest comments under annoy, so feel free.

I'm just gonna take a sip of baileys and sway to the rhythm of poker face.
For now.

Lord,

I'm tired and weary, my soul has been broken into millions of pieces. Give me rest. Give me the courage to pick them up one by one, prayer by prayer. Give me the Strength to continue and hopefully be able to see the lights of the better days ahead before I'm worn out. Give me thy wisdom like those of your faithful servant Job to have the ability to faithful despite of adversities. That I may be able to prosper as accordance to your will, under your grace. Bless me with assurance that you will always be there and that there will be a better plans for me ahead. Give me thy faithfulness so that I may be able to stay faithful in the toughest times just like how Christ did it during his days on earth. God take away the pain, the anger, the sorrows and the tears.

Give me the assurance that you are always there right beside me, taking one step at a time with me. May I have the faith to know that you will always be there even though at times you may seem to be disappearing.

God, if you are true, you know that I'm in need of you now. Show me, show others how your grace and power may bring me through this huge mountain of adversity that exist since that day I was born. Let me be the evidence, the testimony that others may see the work of you. That God can really move mountains.

My mind has been in a mess,
like a pile of dirty linen thrown in the toilet basket.
It stacks.
It manifests.
It grows so big that it starts to block my train of thought.
It stunts my faith.
It makes me lose my mind.

He's the source of the mess.
Every time he gets on my nerves,
it's as though he just threw tens of thousands of dirty clothes into the basket.

It stacks.
It manifests.
It grows
Into other corners of the house.

It ruins me.
It eats me up.
The mess.
He is the mess.

He makes me cry
He makes me run
He tears me apart
He makes me lose control of myself.

But I'm trapped.
I'm stucked.
No where to go.

But to sit beside the mess
and let it eat my souls
the whole of it.

Using creativity to spread the word, or spreading the word, the truth itself, ain't usually my style. I'm someone who usually just sit back and let others do the job. After all, evangelism isn't my gift. I think reaching out to others ain't what i'm gonna spend my life doing. So, this blog isn't about evangelism, but more about how i feel about life. (Isn't it what a blog supposed to do in the first place?)
No holy moly stuffs, just my usual style.
It's a gamble, no success guaranteed about what I am gonna start.
But that's life, its always a gamble, a risk.
You'll never get to know what's on the other side, until you climb to the top of the mountain to have a look.
It may be a beautiful scene, a great outcome. Or, it may be just another trashy sight.
But, one thing you will know is that you've tried.
You've once climbed the mountain and saw what's on the other side.
It takes courage.
Life's always about courage.



.Contemplation.

Half of our life, we spend it on comtemplating, making choices.
Decisions making, takes up almost half of our life.
It's always A or B or even C,D,E,F,G.
One thing i believe in horoscope is the characteristics of a librian, just one characteristic that defines me.
I always have difficulties making decisions.
So, perhaps i spend more than half of my life making choices.
Just alittle longer than normal people.
And for this post to be up, it will also take a much longer time.

That was just a little bit of side track.

I was deciding between whether i should openly do it on MY blog.
Or should i just start up another blog with an pseudonym to talk about God.
Now, that's the challenge.
Do I really have the courage to talk about my faith, or soon-to-be-found faith in front of my friends?
Do I have the courage to openly announce that I am a christian?
People may run, may hide, may ignore me for this,
but if they really do... Are they still considered as my friends?
Aren't friends supposed to stay by my side no matter what decisions i have made.
Aren't friends supposed to love you for just who you are?

My Ex-Boss once told me : "Friends aren't supposed to run when you are in trouble, true friends are sincere, ever ready to lend a helping hand."

Alittle pessismism here.

Anyway, against all odd or not.
I'm posting it on MY blog, without a pseudonym.




.Tea without Sugar.

I love my tea, without any sugar.
No matter how strong, how bitter, how tasteless it is.
It's strange.
It's something that i have decided one morning when i woke up, like "That's it! I'm not adding sugar to my tea no more."
Of course that didn't happen.
Not sure when or how, this habit started.
Tea without sugar.

Let's revise some primary school science...
How many taste can our tongue identify?
4 - Bitter, Sour, Salty and Sweetness

Out of the above, familiar are we with all of the taste?

Sour and Bitter may be on the last of the list.
Those are usually perceived as "bad" tastes.

It's just like life.
We expect Sweetness to be of priority, to be the most familiar taste.
Why?
Cause it is the good one, the comfort one.

What happens when bitterness comes in?
We'll just add sugar to that cup of bitter tea.
To sweeten up things.
Under the sweetness, there still lies bitterness.
It's just a cover-up, a denial.

Why take the trouble.
Just face it, drink it.
The bitterness maybe refreshing, and awakening.

No, I am not against people who adds sugar to their drinks.




.Sipritual Gifts.

I have been excited to find out about my spiritual gifts.
Not because I'm eager to serve God.
But because I longed to feel worthy.
Living in a family where I'm not given my worth,
Makes my life futile.
It keeps me running, hoping that someday I will gain acknowledgement.
An acknowledgement that never existed.

The hunger keeps coming.
The crave for the acknowledgement grows.
It grows.
It eats up almost half of me.
It's a confession.
Those achievements, those hardworks,
aren't because I am self-motivated.
It's just mere act in hope of gaining just a tiny bit of acknowledgement.

For years, I have been sitting at the door steps of my parents
Hoping that one day, they will open the door
With those smiles, i always see on those loving parents face on the streets
With open arms
And say, I love you. I am so proud of what you have achieved.
You weren't wrong, we are the one in the wrong.

Of course, that's not gonna happen.
At least not in this life time.
The door remains closed.
Sealed.
Do Not Disturb.
Do Not Enter.
Do Not Question.

Like a child who would stay awake on every christmas eve,
in hope to get a glimpse of Santa Claus.
I have waited
Waited
And waited for years.
With the same anxiety.
That is never answered.

In times of desperation, I would slam the door.
Kick it.
Throw tantrums.
The only result I will get is the scars on the doors.
Those screeches, thumps.
Nothing more.
And perhaps, bleeding fist, torn skins.
Not forgetting fatigue.

One day, a stranger picked me up.
Dust me.
Dresses me.
Says I'm worthy in his sight.
That He died for me.
I saw the loving face, the welcoming arms.
My heart leaped.

He told me, that there are gifts in me.
The best ones.
The best expression of his love.
The most concrete evidences that I'm worthy in his sight.
And that He has a plan for me.
He will always be proud of me.
He will always be there,
To catch my falling tears.

All those years,
Those fatigued,
those hunger,
lessened.

But I will still look back,
I will still sit at the door.
Hoping that it will be open.

The hunger still exist.
It will still eat me up.
But lesser.
Slower.
Maybe.

Those gifts are the best gifts ever.
I lay down and cry.




.Unanwsered phone call.

I have been receiving missed call from unknown.
The frustration of the inability to call back.
The anger of missing the calls.
The anxiety on knowing the information behind the line.

But there's always a call that i have been ignoring.
Running away from.
You know who.
I did not call back.
I did not hug my phone close to me,
Hoping that i will never ever miss one of those calls.

A pretty reflective entry.



Ah yea. too long an entry.
Off to bed.

Call it a sudden motherly instinct.
A random late year resolution to make to for that non-existence resolutions i have made earlier.
I picked up the thought on the streets on a random sunny afternoon, like how you would pick up a 10 dollar note on the streets and decided to call it yours.
That's it.
I have decided to break the rules and learn how to cook.

A cookbook picked up.
Awaiting for me the explore the goodness it has to offer.
An interesting skill to pick up i would dare say.

But for now, the book still lies on my table.
Awaiting, like a lover.
On the bed.
With lustrous looks.
Calling out to me.
For me to explore its goodness.
ah so sexually described.

Someday, maybe tomorrow i will answer the call.
But not today. For, i am too tired.
But im gonna make it a real resolution, real soon.

haven't been blogging well.
If my blogging health is being examined by a doctor, it would be a grade F.
okay writer's blog aint really a good reason for that, cause i'm aint no shit writer for starters.
now, im stucked again.


I think the new telemarketing job is getting into my mind.
The sheer hypocrisy. Those lies.
My heart aches with every lies i tell.
My conscious says no to those lies.
Its demeaning.
Its thought reducing.
Everyday, i think that i am going crazy.
Everyday, i stare at the ceiling thinking that its heaven.
Everyday, i feel no sense of achievement.
As days goes by, my self esteem reduces to those of or even lesser of a beggar.
I feel more like a beggar than a fuck shit messenger or what not he told me that i am.
It's worse than a socialite.
Okay, maybe i'm just another loser u see on the street who refuses to work hard.
But i did.
Such a conflicting thought.
I feel that im being brainwashed to the point thats i no longer have a mind of my own.
It's time to get back. On my feet and my head.
It's time for a drink.
Ahoy!
hahahhaa

Ever felt like you have lost control of your life and everything around you.
Living with people who doesn't know you and thinks that you are stranger than that of an extraterrestrial object.
You way of life and speech never cease to clash with theirs even though you are living in a different horizon.
So tired of living as a stranger in the house, tired of building up a wall of nonchalant-ness .
That you feel like just ending it here, putting a fulstop, stopping it right there.
A creature that is more grostesque than a Grogon.
You self-worth and pride has been thrown away like a piece of trash.
The heart that aches with every breathe, every mili-seconds.

A life that makes you question if God is really true, if He is really concern about you.
If so, why did he pick you up and throw you down even if He knows that it hurts even more this way?

It's tiring to live life in lies, through lies, by lies.
I can never be honest with myself.
I need a break through.
I need to break out of the pattern.
I'm tired of living in lies.
I'm tired of telling lies.
But I can't stop, they can't stop accepting lies.
Honesty would be the value i can never have.
Who can truly accept the true you, the naked truth in this superficial world.

I'm tired and I'm just blabbering.

Sometimes, I just feel that I am chasing after those invisible butterflies in life.
It's tiring, to be chasing after those futile hope and purposes.
It's painful when I fall and get skinned.
There will always be a scar, not an honorable one, but those hideous scars.
Not meant to be shown.
But I just cant stop running, I cant stop chasing those futile hopes.
It's my sole made up purpose in life.
I will keep running till I'm tired, till I'm out of breath
Till, my death.
I'm tired, but i can't stop.
I can't stop.

Time - a system or method of measuring or reckoning the passage of time.

A creature that is always against my will, but yet i yearn for more of it.
I need more of it.
It goes creepingly slow, when you least want it to be.
It races passed you when you just want to stay in that moment, even just for a little while more.
No pauses, no rewinds, no fast forwards.
A creature not within my control.
I'm under its manipulations, a slave of time.

Someday, i will invent a time machine.
And make sure that there will be a pause button, for that special moment.
Someday, i will be the master of time.




Word of the day:
osculation \os-kyuh-LAY-shuhn\, noun:
The act of kissing; also: a kiss.

I'm getting insomnia again, thats pretty much the signs of getting old where u req. lesser amount of sleeping time i guess.
Millions of random thoughts are on my mind like army of ants crawling over a cookie.
What a metaphor.
I'm not sure where to start, not even able to pin point what's exactly on my mind actually.
It's just a thought, an uneasy feeling.
So i have decided to take up a challenge and post an entry on my new blog on LJ. (aren't you proud of me? -nad and dawn)
I took the first step and this is my first official entry!

So i have just came up with a belated new year resolution:
-Make it a point to reply text messages
-Go on a diet
-Be a regular churchie
-Pray, if not at least say grace
-Update people of the days regularly even though they might find it irritating. (who cares)
-Plan meet up more enthusiatically
-Attend meet ups more often
-Save up
-Be less country-ist
-Quit MIA-ing so often
-Spend 15 mins everyday doing random things (only i know)
-Get updated
-Tell the truth! Be open!
-Talk to 'her' more often

For those who have read this post, update me about your on goings, happenings through comments or emails or text messages.

For now, I'm off for a morning jog and a mac breakfast there after before heading to work.