Spotlights

Congratulations to those who have found this blog in various ways. I would like to thank Cal Dearc who was bugging me for the url to this blog and because he gave me publicity for my deviantart, I decided it was only fair. Soon, everyone figured out the secret of this place.

No poetry or art today. I'm suffering neckache, tiredness and also artistic block. My energy drained. I'm even findin trouble writing this. I'll just take some old random poem and explain it to you.

Time of Waiting

Days pass and clock ticks,
I wait for the day we meet,
Minutes passing, time is moving,
I patiently wait for it.

Years of searching, years of finding,
This year has luck for me,
Years of sorry washed away,
I missed her so dearly.

Time goes on at a constant pace,
So long have I waited,
Dreams come true after so long,
Today has been fated.

Day by day, week by week,
No longer would I let,
Nine years passed since we met,
I found my friend and more than that.

The good times when waiting paid off

Time of Leaving

Hourglass dripping sand,
Days went by since we met,
The last grain had fallen,
That day was gone, that was that.

The sunset, the moonrise,
Gone was the time of waiting,
The sunrise, the moonset,
Now is the time of leaving.

An hour passed and gone,
No longer do we meet,
First day of the seventh,
I still hold on to it.

Nine years of wasted time,
I'm glad I managed to see,
Fifteenth year of my life,
Time of leaving, let it be.

Then suddenly, it's all over and you think all that waiting was a waste. Life goes on.

Eyes Filled With Red

No, my eyes aren't bleeding. What I am talking about is Chinese New Year and its obsession with red. I was wearing red, so was many other people at the usual Chinese New Year gathering in my grandparents' house, and I recieved red packs. I am probably one of the many people who doesn't care about the green or red or blue notes in these red packs. I'm not as money-minded as many other people. I have what I need, and I'm living well enough with it.

Moving on. If my eyes were bleeding, it might be because of this.

Addiction

A picture worth seven boxes of Ricola. That would make up about RM4 each? You could almost buy a RM30 reload card. No, I'm not addicted to it and I don't know why I kept this rubbish. Though, they taste really nice, their side-effect is mild laxative effect.

Walk of My Days

I took a walk around my swimming and took the same seat I sat, eight or nine years ago, playing chess with one of my friends while my friend was swimming. Yes, I remember the time I first learned and started playing chess. I took down the piece and it fell on the floor. Reason for this piece of info, go figure.

So I sat down in the same seat I took. The wind in my hair and the rays sparking on the water was beautiful. I took out my pencil and book and wrote.

Meaning of Time

Does time mean a thing?
All my days spent,
Just waiting,
It came and went.

Is there a meaning to this?
All this regret,
A warning label I miss,
Saying pain is what you'll get.

Why don’t I understand?
That no matter how hard I try,
I sink deeper in sand,
As time passes by.

Is it too tough?
To let me go on,
With life, which is so rough,
With something important gone.

What can I do?
To help me see,
That all of this is true,
And I have to let it be.

When will it end?
All this pain,
Life has to send,
Has no gain.

Why is it so slow?
That life will remind,
Things I know,
But don't know where to find.

Does time mean a thing?
Don't give up everyone says,
I didn't and all the waiting,
Is wasting my days.

What does it mean? Go figure. But yes, typing this blog does waste my time too. And Sparks, if you did find this blog, you were wasting your time

The Saturday When I Bother

A blog you say? I didn't know they call this blogs. Yes, it's true that I have become an enemy of my ownself but I can't help it. I can't help myself. I'm not going to dedicate my life for this blog, of course. Not like the other blogs, no, I would bore you with ramblings. This is the ultimate lullaby. I shall wish good night first before continuing any furture.

So where am I know? At home, in front of my damn computer typing this blog. What have I accomplished today? A poem, a blog, another line or two in my story.

Vomit

Think if I'm crazy,
Maybe I just can't see,
Blind as those bats,
Drowning in filthy rats.

Crying for help inside,
But my guts just died,
And I just vomitted,
A part of life commited.

I killed my soul,
Killed it whole,
And tore the paper,
It's no longer better.

I still choke,
Because of what you took,
But what I have lost,
Does not cost.

What is this about? It's about insanity. It's all about insanity. Am I turning insane? I don't know but I hope so.