Black

As I descend deep into this perspective,
I've become more vulnerable than ever.
Nothing to pull me back up,
And so I've become adapted.
Accepting the fact,
That there is no more light,
To shone upon my eyes.

I can no longer feel,
I can no longer sense,
What had been inside of me,
And only coldness wrap around the soulless body.

DREAM

How hard can it be,
He thought,
With his fragile hands,
He try to dug himself out,
Out of the madness.

Cracked lips,
Bruised legs,
Bleed hands,
Determined eyes,
The child refuse to back away.

To get out from the cold and merciless weather,
Freezing and windy,
That he still can't get use to,
Lost in thoughts,
Of the outside world.

Imaginations,
Run wild in his mind,
Igniting his courage,
To move forward,
And step out from his lonely world.

But he thought,
He was doing it,
Do something to get out,
Alas, sitting near the little fireplace,
Alone, dreaming of an escapade.

Always

They come to me when I'm alone
When I have no one to talk to
They are here beside me, whispering.
Sometimes, I just ignore.
But, mostly I listen to them.

This bit by bit consumes me
Bit by bit, I am no longer myself.
And now we have become one.
Somehow I am relief
That I'm no longer alone.

Thinking

WARNING: An overused of one word is particularly used in this story and people who can easily be annoyed by it are not recommended to read it however you may tell your friends that are less annoyed by or easily offended to read this. Audiences with less sense of humor are also advised not to read it. Thank you.

I think I’ve read too much that I think I can write a story. It’s just how this started. You know just like the time when you’re floating with ideas in your head and by the time you grab a pen and a paper, the ideas just disintegrated into oblivion or maybe straight into someone else’s mind and it somehow made that someone else famous. Or maybe this is the case of someone else’s ideas and it somehow flew into my mind but with exception of that famous phase.

And I think I’ve read too much that I’m scared to think or indulge in deep thought. I even thinking of something else at the moment when writing this, something that will get me caught if I do it. Or maybe I just over-think things. I think all these reading has done me some damage in the head particularly my brain of course. I thought of putting part of the brain’s name but eventually gave up because I can’t find my old anatomy and physiology textbooks and I’m not a fond of technology (to a certain extent) where these youngsters (or elders) prefer to use the search engine on their smart-phones or laptops and etc. Heck I’m even writing this on a sheet of an A4 paper before transferring it in my laptop. It gives me satisfaction, you know.

Whenever I read (a book usually), I try to think further than what was written, however you don’t have to for my writing, particularly this one. And with this over-thinking mind, I’ve formed a few opinions or perspectives and those religions orthodox probably unorthodox too might kill me if they found out what I’ve been thinking. I even attempted to point out one of my supposedly bizarre opinion to my parents (they can be quite strict regarding religion and ethics) and I’ve managed to obtain myself a lecture from my parents for being such a – hmm what was the word again…?Well never mind that, they’re still good people and humble, serving to the Almighty. And they don’t kill others in the name of religion, isn’t that what is important nowadays?

Ahh, I took some times to write again after those rants you’ve just read. I’ve met with a concrete wall blocking me away from what’s beyond where there probably have overflowing ideas and blossoming flowers and magnificent rainbow and probably a writer’s paradise. Usually, somewhere at this point, an amateur (or maybe some renounce writers/authors) may state the time right now however the pros will do more vaguely. For example, yes an example is needed, ‘It is 3.10 a.m and I can’t sleep so I’m writing this because I just miss you and I keep on remembering your face and how it glows under the moonlight,’ and no this is not my attempt to state the time nor it is my story. And please believe me that I’ve never seen anyone’s face under the captivating glows of moonlight. Really please believe me. (Yes, this is a cue for you to smile, please smile for whatever reason). Please keep in mind that, this is not my way of stating the time or sort and also to state that I’m neither an amateur nor a professional writer. I’m just a normal (I hope so) human being who reads too much that I think I can write a story.

Talking about story, how do you rate a story/movie is good? Is it because of its moving words? Inspirational quotes? Superfluous vocabulary? Stunning pictures? Or is it just easy to comprehend? I don’t know about everyone else but I think most of the story that I’ve read (or seen) took less dialogue between human beings and more in describing emotions physically. This can be seen especially distinguishable in movies (exceptional to blockbuster movies) that have won some awards. Let me elucidate, this pattern can be seen – let’s say a love story – a man and a woman, strangers to each other just talking among themselves while waiting for a bus at the bus stop. They talk about weathers, probably a good restaurant down the street but they don’t talk much, the man asked and the woman answered. The woman asked and the man answered and suddenly the picture changed to someone else walking down the street with an umbrella in one hand, a corporate man talking to his phone oblivious to the surrounding, a dog peed at a pole and then sunset! All of these happened was accompanied by a romantic piano soundtrack. The story continues with the man and woman sitting next to each other in the bus silently and awkwardly (still with the romantic piano playing in the background). And the story again continues with the man and woman keep on bumping each other at the same bus stop at the same time (probably intentionally). This developed into a feeling towards each other I supposed and then the story abruptly ends! Hah! You’ll be hearing the movies won a lot of awards and prizes after that. Well, this happened in multiple occasions, really. So yeah, all of these movies has the same pattern - less dialogues-> emotional scene -> occasionally awkward silence -> soundtrack with other scenery -> abruptly ends. You may justify that they want us to think or imagine what is going on in their minds or what will happen next is up to our own interpretation. Well then maybe I have a low IQ or something because I sometimes tired of thinking all these things. Hah! I’ve contradict myself, I said I’m an over-thinking peasant before and now I claim myself  that I’m tired of thinking. Well, I’m just a normal human being you might say because I lied to myself.

Steorra

A see through star,

not transparent,

just unnoticeable

carry the light of millions.

 

In the vast space,

the star has met with many,

of different shapes and colours.

Sometimes with no shape or colour.

 

Though this star is not much yet brings beauty to the night.

Soft light penetrating the eyes.

But not appreciated even when given the galaxy.

Mortified and depressed it went into regress.

 

And now stared into the eyes,

capable of taking things from dynamic to stationary.

With the hands that bare life.

Powerful and mighty with nothing to stop it.

 

Prepare for next,

oh dear see through star.

Do not bound with anything anymore.

Let sorrow be free and fire takes in.

Math and rock is a thing

This has been a discovery for me as I found that there’s a genre called math rock. A ninny like me who doesn’t have a diverse knowledge in music industry found this a very fascinating thing to explore.

Probably some of you have already listened to such genre and probably some of you don’t realize (like me) that you have listened to them. For instance 凛として時雨 /  Ling tosite sigure and HaKu. Both originated from Japan. Very talented indeed. These are my favourite :

For a more old school band, try Zeni Geva. Much awesomeness.

What? Japanese bias much…Aight, here are some non-Japanese works which are also nothing but pure awesomeness.

Anyway, if you want more, you just have to find it yourself. Maybe you’ll find some that will pique your interest other than my selections above. Or why don’t you guys start from here

The Masses

This is not a crime
As you told everyone
Or you think you have told them
In your own ways

An artistic and unique it may seems to you
But not to others who thinks differently
All you did is for the sake of humanity
The sole reason that keeps you going

Eliminate the unwanted and the violent
Who are you to judge,they said
Throwing curses and hates at your shadow
As they can never catch you

Your mind is the ultimate work of god
Swift yet delicate fingers that works the magic
They can never understood such human can be a monster
But you don't want them to understand you.

Aria

The last piece has been put upon the puzzle.
    The final drop of memory has been drained.
Emptiness is reveal, conjuring scenery,
    Of something that he had always dreamt.

Kindness and violence are different actions.
    But has the same mechanism.
Even now, reading has the same mechanism.
    He is now aware of the connections.

His eyes are now covered.
    Leading to the cold path ahead.
Deeper into the darkness.
    He has chosen and will never return.

That poor lake yet soothing.
    Winter does not make it into ice.
He wondered and probably found the answer.
    The skin is impaled with vigorous cold straight to the bone.

Birds are still singing and wind is still blowing.
    Oblivious of the human being.
The paper is floating eventually drenched.
    Still no human can be seen.

Farewell Fantasia

This has been a sudden
to know or not knowing
neither is pleasant I think.
I will never be prepared.

I thought I'll never shed any tears,
even the tears feel desperate,
making my body surprise of it existence.
Such a shame,there's no proper farewell.

We both have given something
and accepted each other presence,
either good or bad.
Now,you've given me and all of us your last present.

Farewell.

Daisy

Voices whispering,
along with the winds,
Listening,hurting,
halting the teary eyes.

Patches heart,
never mind the wounds,
Another part,
of life,eventually dies.

Let us live,
without regrets,
we will see,
blooming beauty,it will give.

It is not easy,
countless stabbing of emotion,
Bloom like a daisy,
and let the past stay hidden.

Close and Weave

The weight that tugs on my chest,
the constant replay of boring and dragging songs in my head is sucking my breaths and sanity.
They whisper me lullabies while pricking on my eyes.
Close your eyes, don't close them.
Weave your dreams, don't weave them.

The faint ache in my temples ties my head up in a knot,
the uncomfortable positions on the bed,
the striking fluorescent light,
...
Close your eyes, don't close them.
Weave your dreams, don't weave them.

Futuristic Visualisation

Don't mind them,
Be yourself.
Said the heart.

If they don't want you around,
others will.
Said the heart,comforting the soul.

Do what you think is right,
do what you think is fun,
Said the mind.

You're in control of yourself.
This is not the time to be in woe.
Because time is running out.

Make a difference,
to your life,
to the world.

Hope for the better of us.

Complexion

The words tangling and dangling just at the edge of my brain,waiting to be spit out
but to no avail.
Just like swallowing your own puke and occasionally someone's puke.

And as simple as that,the heart was torn.

HUMANITY

I think that this month is probably the most stressful month I have ever been through. I got stressed and fussed up over a small thing (not really small, but still). Most of the time I just run away from anything that may stress me up instead of facing it. Which is definitely not me.  I felt anxious most of the time. It felt like so many things going on that I can’t keep up (or sometimes people can’t keep up with me when I needed their cooperation.)

Even though I’m solving the problem one by one, it seems to me that this will never end.

Enough said of my rambling regarding my (not so) personal life.

Listening to From Dusk Till Dawn by Abingdon Boys School made me think and reflect (just from the title and not the lyric which I don’t really understand most of it, hahaha) on what I had done for the rest of the day and how fortunate I am to be living in this life with just only some small issues in my life to be concern unlike some of the unfortunate ones that deal with the matter of life and death every single day.

Recently, (or not, it happened for a long time ago, but began to peak up recently), the notorious human trafficking of the Rohingya ethnic that deserved the help and concern from the vast more fortunate human beings. And to those that lend their hands for the sake of humanity, no matter in what form it might be, the world is grateful for there are such people as you guys. Only God that can return the favour.

Not only that, for the people that help the unfortunate of the Nepali that was struck by a catastrophic earthquake that had killed and injured many, you have helped rebuild the world and hopefully into a better and brighter future.

Keep the faith and keep on believing that the world will change into a better place if we all just play our part and be together especially in this time of hardship.

South-East Asian migrant crisis: Who are the Rohingya fleeing Myanmar by boat? 

Thailand Has a Chance to Lead on Rohingya Boatpeople Crisis  

HUMAN SECURITY FOR ROHINGYA REFUGEES  

Nepal earthquakes: Devastation in maps and images

Nepal earthquakes: Survivors' stories 
mySEDEKAH (ISLAMIC RELIEF) 

Tangential

Elevate my feelings
Thrust my lungs
If that makes any sense

I want to break free
From this excruciating life
That hold me tight,deep in its fantasy.

Take me out,soaring the sky
With soothing zephyr
Help me forget of the stereotype life.  

state of a pathetic being I once was

Here's to the state of being in the centre of everything you don't fucking understand.

Before, being alone despite of the people around is negligible. Talks about education and rains of saliva of ever going to end motivations - flow throughout the veins to the brain and never seem to stick.
And then it was negligible no longer - it was disturbing. The brain took the role of talking and raining, stomach cooperated by twisting into knots.

Same building, same air - it strangely was not enough. Because, you might say no, but faces matter. Faces fucking matter. I wanted the usual faces, the usual vibes, the usual reactions; the usual per se. I disliked different new faces, because they mean a start of a whole new book, especially when it was in an alien lingo. I had to be the one adapting because apparently I was the alien, albeit it is the usual building I had been going for years.

So I started disappearing, absenting myself frequently to their dismay. I told myself to just take it all, I forced things to just flow in my swelling veins. I thought of only a thing: I want to get the fuck out of here.

Because I couldn't go on. Because I knew I couldn't go on. Not anymore.
I didn't want to think of excuses to excuse myself from the ear-slaughtering naggings anymore.

So I left, and I don't regret it.
Not at all.

I don't miss any of the time I fucking wasted there.
I really don't.
And I never will.

1,2,3 Smile

You walked in the park,
portraying your ever so beautiful smile,
childish smile.
Yet it is fake.

You walked in the park,
That has ever so beautiful flowers,
blossoming spring.
But they are weak.

You walked in the park,
and one by one the flowers
that portray beautiful colours,
becomes dull.

And the trees is unattached from its root.
Everything is starting to tumble down.
But you still give your childish smile.
Pretending nothing had happened.

You smile and enchanted the bees,
Then the bees followed you.
The bees work for you.
As to lead you to the next beautiful park.
Once you destroyed the others.

do me a favour

in the darkness, i squinted.
"stupid lights", i muttered.
in the trials of focusing on the tiny black pixels forming virtual alphabets,
i stumbled down as the gravity dragged me down.
"stupid bed", i muttered.

and the day went on ever so blandly.

Envisage

Last night, I dreamt.
A lovely place, flowers were blossoming.
The trees were speaking to each other.
With every single leaves danced with the wind.
The soft, cool breeze.
It was pleasant.
It was spring.

Beside me were my parents.
Mommy on the right.
Daddy on the left.
We were laughing, playing, having a good time together.
At that moment, I wished that I will never grow up.
I want to stay as a kid forever.

It didn't take long to realize it won't be happening.
My parents were taken away from me by monsters.
Demanding obedience from my rebellious parents.
Stagnant on the pavement I stand.
Praying that came out as almost preaching.
Stamping military boots, gunfire, flying bullets, chaos.
All has been taken away from me in a blink of an eye.
It all happened in a split seconds.
But the suffering remains for eternity.

BOOM!
A loud noise drag me out from my dream.
A nightmare.
I found myself sweating, trying to get my bearing back.
The loud noise made me jump off from my bed.
Grab my rifle, pinpoint to the enemy.
Because, I now live in that dream of mine.
A dream that came true.

Perpetrator

The wind is blowing
And my palm is sweating
Nothing is left but whining.

High peaking mountain
Excited blood in my vein
The last victim was slain.

Forest of memory
Screaming so violently
Cultivating the misery.

The birds are free
Flying as far we can see
Will I be like thee?