Chapter 2 Teaser of The Button Which Almost Destroyed The World

A picture I did with my spare time. Yes, Chapter 2 is slow. I only have 600 words, it'll be up by this weekend. The latest.

Earthquake

I think it's geometrically incorrect but in a world of scientific magic, what is correct?

The Button Which Almost Destroyed The World Chapter 1

Chapter 1: After-effects

The was between the magical and non-magical society, now known as the Magical-Normal War Two, had ended a year ago. After years of secrecy, the new head of this small town of Seemsides decided to take action. He worked his way from leader of a small community to General of the Army of this country. He planned and his plans were deployed on 1^st April 2020. The rest of the board of the government thought it was a prank.

“Come on. Magic? You must be crazy. Is this another joke?”

He had a goal and he did not want anyone to pull him down. The magical society, with their arcane powers, detected his movements and planned their own counter-attack. Without delay, the two armies met and blood shed. Even the one the mages called ‘The Challenged Saviour’ did not manage to stop the battle. Many had died on both sides. Eventually, leaders of both societies had a meeting as soon as possible and came to an agreement. War ended on 31st August 2020.

The ‘Field of Powerism’ was what it was called after that very day. The motto was ‘the grass is redder on this side’. In addition, after 600 years of living in the shadows of ‘normal’ humans, the United Nations had added new rules and allowed the magical society walk among us.

That was the prologue. Now begins the story of a teenage boy.

He watched his parents die tragically.

It was no accident. It was on purpose. Apparently all those who were in the war were slain. All those who worked at the army, navy or air force were killed, one way or another. The retired general was the one who killed them.

Before the cruel General of the Army was executed for his stupidity and wickedness, he escaped from jail and killed them. He even killed their family if they were in their way.

His parents were doused with gasoline and rotted in the flames. The sprinklers came on but the water from them was replaced with gasoline too. The kid ran away as fast as he could. His shirt caught fire so he had to take it off. Soon, their mage neighbours came as soon as possible to help put out the fire. Sirens from ambulances, police vehicles and fire engines shrieked loudly from a distance. The mage’s magic was drained out of his body. Water from the fire hydrate was soon spraying on the fire of the roaring fire before it could spread. The only thing the kid got as a remembrance of his parents was a button of his father’s shirt.

Soon after every single retiree had been killed, he drove to Traylen’s Tower. Traylen’s Tower was the three-quarter completed building competing to be the tallest building in the world. He drove to that tower in a tank at twelve midnight and destroyed the bottom structure. The whole tower was demolished and he was killed. Only one other person was injured and that person was a senile old man who was taking a stroll in the construction site.

That was at least a year ago. It was his sixteenth birthday and it was not a happy one.

After his parents died, he was sent to an orphanage which after a day or two, he was adopted. He broke a record too for being the fastest orphan to be adopted. A rich family took him in. His foster parents were too busy for any children so they decided to visit an adoption centre. Even though he had rich foster parents, he was poor. His monthly allowance was barely enough for him to ease his hunger. So he had to work during the weekends to get extra cash.

He did not really have a big birthday party for his sweet sixteen. He did not get a present from his parents. His parents did not even remember it. He did not really care.

He got up from his huge bed and crossed his room.

His name is Dyert Xavier, also known as ‘Dirt’ for those who tease. His birthday is today, 9^th September. He has interest includes ninja and fighting skills along with ability of a thief. His ambition is unknown to him as of yet but he is leaning towards the field of weaponry.

He glanced out of the window and stared at the garden in front of the tall walls. Outside of the estate was a man who was taking a stroll. This man was a stranger to this neighbourhood and judging by the way he was dressed, he didn’t look sophisticated. However, ever since Dyert moved in, he had been here. He may be a spy. There had been more of those since that incident. It could be that he is a stalker or just a friendly fellow who likes walking and admiring the wonderful houses.

He took a glimpse at his surroundings; a bed, a shelf, a wardrobe and a desk.

To be more descriptive, it was a four-poster bed with a canopy placed on the wall, in the centre, on top of a wooden-tiled floor. The carvings on the posts were beautifully patterned and wood must had been expensive. It was a waste; such a beautiful design for such an uncomfortable mattress. It was hard and bumpy. Bumpy doesn’t mean that there are those massage pads underneath the top quality mattresses. It creaked too if the bed was pressed in certain areas. The desk was placed on the opposite of the room. A huge brown desk with a five columned shelf filed with books placed next to it. And finally at the remaining wall, opposite of the door, on the left of the bed, was the wardrobe. That was all he had. He had no computer, hand phone, radio, music player of any sort, television, portable or non-portable consoles or anything form of entertainment. He did have a pool which he was not supposed to dip his filthy body in.

His daily exercise is included in his daily routine. The walk to the gate and back is equal to a short walk in the park. Apparently, his room was like a small chalet alienated from the rest of the buildings in the estate. The only connection between his room and the other buildings was a dirt path which was barely visible at the moment. The plus side living here was the fact that there were maids to do the chores and he did not have to do any.

It was a Sunday morning. He grabbed his favourite book, Wishworld, but he had no mood to read. He opened a small, expensive-looking, fabric casing which held the button inside. A Yalti brand black button to be exact. It was slightly scorched from the fact that it was being ripped from a man whose clothes were ablaze.

He suddenly recalled that there was magic in the event.

How he love magic. He wished that one day he would be able to cast magnificent spells similar to his ex-neighbours’. He had made friends with a mage who was three years younger than he was. Zalador Atavan was a half-troll, half-dragon mage. He held the nickname of pyrotechnist. Fire is his specialty and fireworks are what he does best. He is not advanced in his abilities yet but he is slowly working his way there.

He slid open the door and walked out of his room. He put on his shoes and followed the narrow dirt path. Around him was grassy land and his house was in the middle of it. He approached a double-storey bungalow house which was the guest rooms and crossed the hallway inside that building. He went out through the front door and walked the open-air eating area. His parents would usually have tea here under the shade as the slow breeze blew by. He hopped on the large rocks which were placed in the shallow koi-pond. There was a bridge but he preferred to other way. He walked into the main wing and passed everything inside until he was finally at the beautiful, huge main double door. He pulled it opened and walked outside. The door swung outwards and closed.

The sun was blazing outside. It was a sign. Either it was going to rain or it was going to rain rocks. The meteor shower is just as bad as acidic rain. It is just as painful as rocks showering down. They are not those flaming ones. They are more like hailstones except they do not melt.

He walked down the sloped wide concrete path which leads to the grand golden gates. On one of those gates, there was a smaller door which could be opened. He pressed the codes on the keypad of the digital lock and it automatically unlocked. He continued his walk outside his estate, in the neighbourhood of large mansions.

How he envied them. They all go to high-class schools with all their fancy gizmos. Dyert did not go to a fancy high-class school. For his parents, getting a list of school names, closing both eyes and randomly choosing one was the way to do it. Taswin High was the school he went to. It was not as big as most of the schools and it was rated most dangerous in the top-ten list of most dangerous places. That would include other places such as banks and shopping complexes. It was also known for its secret hiding places. It was once an educating institute for the magical society. It was also the school where “The Challenged Saviour” went to. His laptop was still left hidden to the teachers. Dyert was the lucky one who got his locker and managed to access the hidden camera in the school.

He hummed a tune as he strolled along the sidewalks. His mind wandered elsewhere as he wandered on the path. His eyes caught something and he turned his head, following the glowing flying object. His head turned back and jumped by the sight of a man standing right behind him. He looked familiar but the startling incident made him hesitate in his head.

“Um,” Dyert paused to construct a proper query, “Who are you?”

“I’m a chap taking a morning walk down this friendly neighbourhood,” he replied.

It came to Dyert. He was the person who was always walking pass his house. He was wearing a black shirt with a ragged coat and black pants. His hard was messy and his face was ragged.

“Do you live around here?” asked Dyert.

“Of course not. I only wish. What about you, young lad?”

“I live with my foster parents here.”

He pointed to the huge yellow wall on his right.

“So you are the new fellow around,” the stranger smiled with comprehension.

‘The’ new fellow, Dyert thought, have people been talking about me.

“I heard you had a rare button in your hand,” he added.

Dyert took a peek at his hands but he managed to realise.

“You mean the Yalti branded button?”

“Yes, that’s what I was referring to. Do you wish to sell it?” enquired the stranger, “I’ll offer a hundred dollars.”

“Um.”

“That sounds a little bit too low. How about three hundred?”

“Um, I don’t think I am going to sell it,” he replied.

“What if I offered you a thousand dollars?”

“No, thank you.”

As Dyert walked back home, the stranger yelled numbers and the numbers kept increasing. Soon, his voice decreased into nothingness.

Dyert dashed back into his house. It was the most sensible thing he did. He was luck too. By the time he got back to his room, the sky turned dark. Grey clouds began to roll in and three bolds of thunder struck. The thunder was no ordinary thunder. It did not fork. It went vertically straight towards the ground. That was the two signs already. Dyert waited patiently for the third. He stared into the sky through his window. There was a spark amidst the clouds. It faded away in the darkness. That was the last sign. It was raining meteors.

The rate of death had increased because of new phenomena. There was also a new subject in school called Meteorology, the study of natural phenomena. They were taught about every new and old disastrous and non-disastrous occurrence. The first lesson began meteor showers. To avoid it, carry an umbrella and shelter yourself from the direction the rocks are falling. Umbrellas are heavier these days since they were no longer made out of waterproof clothes. Nowadays, it has to be water, rock and other elements proof. The cause of this new phenomenon is because of the last spell that was cast as a finishing of Magical-Normal War Two. It is also due to the frequent use of constructing spells which had a side effect. Rocks evaporated into the clouds. When the side effects wear off, all the rockgas (a new word to the dictionary) will sublimate into, obviously, rocks and pour down upon the innocent people.

It was doing so. The only different, Dyert thought, between rain and meteor shower was the noise. The window would not break as there were more bullet-proof glasses produced. Of course, one with a fabulous house would buy what money could offer for protection of their sanctuary.

Dyert was about to grabbed the Wishworld book when he tripped. He tripped in such a way, by the time he realised he fell, the sliding door was open and his head was out of his shelter. He was on his front and on his shoes. It was too fast for him to figure out what happened. He placed his hands over the back of his head while small rocks plunged on his hands. Before he was further harmed, he pulled himself back into his room. He looked around with suspicion and fear. He was confused. He was standing beside the window which was adjacent to his table and somehow, he fell on the ground a few metres away from his location. He calmed himself down and continued what he was doing. He grabbed another book instead and read on the bed with his ears closed.

It was a book of events that happened between the magical and non-magical society. He flipped through the pages and found the one he wanted. It was the time, after many centuries, the magical events were numerous. They called it the “challenged” times. Apparently, a prophecy came saying something about a lad with a stick would save them all; The Challenged Saviour. He had defeated a vampire by the name of Cyrus in his first encounter with a mythical creature. By luck, he had survived. However the vampire was resurrected and he took revenged by killing the saviour’s love one.

Dyert flipped the pages once more to a page with the profiles of the character involved in these real life events. Apart from the Challenged Saviour, there were his friends, the One-Armed Bandit, Mysterious One, The Ghost, The Innovator, Unless Accidental Prone Kid, Djinn Powered, Soul-ed Werewolf, The Giant and many other more. Those are just nicknames given to them by the world. Real names are not given to protect their identities. Though, most of the people already know their real names. There were the villains too. There was Cyrus, One Who Must Not Be Named Because He Is So Damn Evil, The Mage Betrayer and other villains.

Dyert continued on flipping the pages and glanced at the pictures. Suddenly, he abruptly stopped. His sharp observation has spotted something odd on page 424. The paragraphs and sentences were purposely written in a way, it shaped a word. The word had six letters, ‘T’ in one of the middle, and it was on fire. Fire! Dyert panicked. He tossed the book on the floor and stomped on it. It became bigger. It was finally out but that particular page was in ashes. His foot was slightly burnt and the book was not damage considering how much times he had jumped on it.

It had been a strange morning for him. It was not something to be worry about though. When you live in a world with a combination of magic and technology, you can get weird things. One example is the Illusionist Trading Card Game. It was the latest trend. Dyert had those cards too. With his job, he spends twenty percent of it on cards.

Illusionist is no colourful cardboard. It has a chip inside which enables an illusion spell. The illusion of the character in the cards comes will stand out and fight each other. Furthermore, they can grew level, train and learn new abilities. It looks like those cartoons but this had been achieved in reality. It was cheap too. It was only ten dollars a booster of fifteen cards and thirty-five dollars for a deck of sixty cards.

Beep went the intercom. One of the five maids spoke, “Lunch time.”

He glanced at his digital watch. It was one in the afternoon and the meteor shower had stopped, leaving rocks scattered everywhere on the ground. He approached the dinning room and had his fish fillet. The day went on with nothing interesting. He slept after lunch until dinner, then he had his dinner, did his homework and sleep again. Something interesting might have happened but he was in another world.

His alarm clock buzzed him awake. It was five in the morning; only thirty minute to get ready. He did it in time too. After the thirty minute of changing, packing and eating, he was standing out of the majestic gates as he awaited the school bus to arrive.

The bus came a few minutes after he was outside. It stopped with a loud boomed and black smoke trailed out of the exhaust pipes. According to various rumours, it had exploded twice before. The yellow door cranked and slid open. He took his sit at his usual seat somewhere in the middle of the bus and sleep.

Dawn was orange with a hint of yellow these days. That colour was caused by new various gases such as Xalium Pentaoxide (Xm₃0₅). Trixan Xalium was the vain mage professor who discovered the new element and named it after her family name. It is categorised under noble gases. During the night, this gas would be less dense and rise into the air. When the dawn comes, light will cause this gas to sink. As light passes through the particles of the gas, the light will change colour to orange. Thus causing the sky to be orange and also the naked eye will see shades of orange on objects.

“Dyert,” a voice whispered into his unconsciousness.

“Wrm…” he mumbled back half-heartedly. He torpidly opened his eyes, only to find out that his closest friend was staring at him.

“Yes, how may I help you, Freddie?” he asked.

“It’s about the chemistry report. Have you done it?” Freddie enquired.

Freddie James was a thin boy who has spiked hair. His nose and ears were quite small compared to an average human. However, he was the tallest kid in class. He wore his favourite black t-shirt with black trousers. It had no embroidery on it at all. In the gloom, no one could see him. He was lazy too; abnormally lazy. Even though his notes were not completed or work not done, he had the ability to avoid punishment. Even the teachers said he was a good boy. Dyert would sarcastically cough at that statement in the face. On the other hand, Freddie had suffered his own penalty. He caught a dangerous illness before and almost died.

Three months after the agreement that the magical society could stay under daylight, there had been an outbreak. It was a plague more deadly than severe acute respiratory syndrome (also known as SARS). It killed more than the bird flu and salacine put together. It was called magicine (mae-ji-scene) and the symptoms for it is ability to cast magic. The disease was taken from the word magi which is another word for sorcerers. They had not found the source of this disease but they had found a cure. The non-magical society accused the magical society for this new illness and they were almost driven back into hiding. However, a great leader and the youngest too, Rambert, had came with a great idea and therefore they could stay. Some may say that casting magic is not a curse, it’s a blessing. Well, after a week, the victim will start losing himself and chaos break lose. Uncontrollable magic and masochism was the symptoms followed after that and death comes slow and painfully after a fortnight.

Freddie suffered that. He was test subject number 610 and the six hundred and nine test subjects before him had past away, either by the new drugs or masochism. He was luck number 610 as he got the first cure. Soon, the sickness had been able to be contained.

“There was a chemistry report?” Dyert questioned back.

“I think so. I don’t really know,” Freddie ignored that problem and went on to another topic, “How was your weekend?”

“Yesterday was weird. A stranger wanted to buy my button and my book caught fire.”

“Dyert, Dyert,” he said with disappointment, “Drugs will not do any good. And you have to stop your pyromaniac ways.”

“I’m not…”

Before Dyert could continue, the bus jerked and the passengers slammed forward. The students rushed out and the bus sped off, leaving them choking in the carbon monoxide.

They entered the gates and followed the path in the middle of the grassy area. In the middle of the path, there was a flagpole which they had to walk around. They continued forward and up a few steps. The swinging double door was to be pushed open and the first thing that could be seen was the two parallel rows of lockers placed beside the walls. They went to their own lockers and chatted. It was thirty more minutes to school and seven hours till school ends. The first lesson, after assembly, was Meteorology and they were going to learn about earthquake. Ironically, the earth began to shake at the very moment and it was no drill.

Dyert’s life had become more complicated than he ever expected. First he thought love and life was it all. It was more than that, now. His adventure started when he met a stranger and it does not look like it will end at all. If it does, it will not be a happy-ever-after ending.

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That was the end of chapter 1. The mistakes are not checked, I'll find time to do that. Comment if you can. Chapter 2 will be written and uploaded soon.

Disclaimer's Note: I have full permission from Skull P to use the title 'Wishworld' for a fictional book in my story. If you want to find out what Wishworld is, see the links on your left, click on Skull Pandamonium

Field of Powerism

Why powerism? Cause the word 'power' needed a suffix. -ism was just the thing. Po-wer-ism. It has a ring to it. Here's a picture of that setting.

The first chapter of this story will be up soon. No, I will have many mistakes cause I don't feel like checking yet.

The grass is truely redder on this side. And the sky. And the mountains. And everything around it.

Ask permission before using it. If you want a wallpaper, i have one of it.

Field of Powerism

News

A Building And A Parking Lot

A shark in a parking lot,
And a body willing to rot,
Pain in between them all,
There is a time to fall.

Carried by the hands of Fate,
He was too late,
The parking space had been taken,
From a nightmare he had waken.

He had to leave so he took a leap,
He gave Death another live to keep,
And the parking lot had no more space,
He went to his place.

So rest in peace my friend,
Not everyone can park in the end,
We will move on and so will you,
A tall building and a parking lot too.

This is a poem dedicated to Darren Lim who tragically passed away.

This poem is about the current events of yesterday. Pain, carparks and the news. See previous entry for your information. The poem has many metaphorical meanings. The main point is... we can never find a parking space everytime and there is always a time when we fall.

Remember

First, I'd like to say that I do not celebrate Valentine's Day as it is now turned into a commercialised celebration where prices of roses increase by 200% or more.

Skull P's blog has inspired me. His blog is one of the most interesting blog. Hope you do well in life, Skull P.

Next, I'd like to say rest in peace to that kid who fell of the condominium. Was it fate? Was it luck? Was it both? I do not know but life has a way of turning around and bitting you in unexpected places. Like my next thing.. point..

A poem called remember. It's fictional and non-fictional at the same time of. It is related to a short story called Poetry. Most of you might have read it, but read it if you have the time. They say it is nice. I can't comment my own work.

Remember

Remember the nights we stayed up till two,
There were no one else except me and you,
We had a great time chatting and talking,
And in the end, we go to bed smiling.

Remember the time we met at the mall,
It was the first time since so long after all,
So we were nervous as you had a friend,
I was sad that day had to end.

Remember the time we talked on the phone,
I was up in my room alone,
I gather my courage and recited to you,
I did what I had to do.

I remember it well, but I hope you do,
A feeling so real and true,
Trapped inside of me,
I have to let it be.

If you ask how is it a twist, it is because it's all over. That's why there's the word 'remember' there. That's all.

Happy Valentine's Day to those who celebrate and good night to all.

Sidetracked

Yes, I have sidetracked once more from my second 'book' of my story. This is a spinoff of Seemingly Normal (Book 1 can be found on my website. Link on your left). Here's the prologue (havent checked for mistakes yet)

Prologue

The war between the magical and non-magical society had ended a year ago. After years of secrecy, the new head of this small town of Seemsides decided to take action. He worked his way from leader of a small community to General of the Army of this country. He planned and his plans were deployed on 1^st April 2020. The rest of the board of the government thought it was a prank.

“Come on. Magic? You must be crazy. Is this another joke?”

He had a goal and he did not want anyone to pull him down. The magical society, with their arcane powers, detected his movements and planned their own counter-attack. Without delay, the two armies met and blood shed. Even the one the mages called ‘The Challenged Saviour’ did not manage to stop the battle. Many had died on both sides. Eventually, leaders of both societies had a meeting as soon as possible and came to an agreement. War ended on 31st August 2020.

The ‘Field of Powerism’ was what it was called after that very day. The motto was ‘the grass is redder on this side’. In addition, after 600 years of living in the shadows of ‘normal’ humans, the United Nations had added new rules and allowed the magical society walk among us.

That was the prologue. Now begins the story.

Freedom

We were free once more. We partied, we drank, we got drunk, we finally regained soberness, we pushed our birtyday boy into the pool, we fired firecrackers in risk of being caught by police. It was fun. Here's a video for enjoyment. Taken by PeakO, made into flash for user-friendliness by me.



Anyways, on to the main topic. Freedom. We have freedom. Yes, we do. But we can't see that. We tell ourself that we are not, yet we are. We are just bound by the emotions like guilt and fear. We can do whatever we like (which is physically possibly). Go rob if you wish but there are things called consequences. SkullP, you were about to lecture me about freedom? I'd like to hear your opinion.

I end with a poem

Freedom

The best of times,
The worst of rhymes,
Remember the moment,
To life, a servant.

Shackled down by chains,
In the middle when it rains,
The keys in the mud beside,
But from view, they hide.

The keys are so close,
But who needs those?
Is freedom what servants need?
Or is it as annoying as weed?

It’s your own choice,
Sit down and make noise,
Or seek to be free,
But there’s a fee.

Dance

It's all in the poem. No, actually, the poem is exaggerated 100% that only the people present would know what had happened. No, actually, they don't.

The ball was a blast. We played, we danced. I met new friends and remeet old ones. That's pretty much it.

On to poetry.

Dance The Night Away

Care for a dance, my dear?
Let's dance our trouble away,
Let's throw away our fear,
For another day.

Turn then take a step,
Hold our hands high,
Our legs began to tap,
No worries, it's our first try.

Wake up, my friend, wake up,
You should dance, go ahead,
Here's your drink, take this cup,
Go on the stage, don't be afraid.

I see the people on the floor,
Moving with rhythm, moving with grace,
Couples joined in, more and more,
For me, there's no place.

I came here to let go,
I can no longer hold,
Did it work? No,
It increased by tenfold.

Alchohol and Drugs

Warning: Content may be too disturbing/sensitive

That poem/song I was talking about yesterday is here. I decided to put it up. It may be more extreme than my other poems.

Ruining Myself

It has been many days,
It has taken forever.
We've parted our ways,
Now it's all over,

I'm out here on the sidewalks,
Standing on my feet,
You've given your talks,
That was the end of our meet.

We weren’t meant to be, but I refused to see,
All my life I have waited for you to come to me,
My stubborn ways has made me what I am today,
And all the prices for my actions I had to pay.

I'm drunk, I don't care,
I'll whack and I'll hit,
My body's about to wear,
But I don't give a shit.

I'm dying out here,
I'm bitter and rude,
Death, I don't fear,
Drugs will do me good.

I have ruined my life because I held on to,
The only person I ever loved whom is you,
But I know you will never come back to me,
Don't worry; I'll wait here, wrecking my own body.

Not going to talk much today. Busy weekend. I need my drugs. Please kids, don't take drugs, it's bad for your health. I just need mine to keep me living.

Blind

"What would you wish for if you had three wishes?"
"Nothing." I replied.
"You're a freak!"

Maybe even the freaks will call me a freak. But why do I want wishes? There would be always disadvantages among these wishes.

Untitle's wish: A swiss bank with unlimited cash.
Disadvantage: No key.

Pandamomium's wish: Disruption of organs at will.
Disadvantage: If you're using it and your hand accidentally go towards your body.

Dexter's wish: Immortality
Disadvantage: Eternal torment

Wai Khiun's wish: Time travel
Disadvantage: Cause paradox, alter time.

I would think of more but my brain would hurt. On to blindness. A comic? Of my own? Yes, it is. This is one way to improve my skills in drawing. By frequently drawing (updating) comic. I shall call it "The 10 minute comic" series as I can do it in 10 minute. This one may not make much sense, but if you read on, you may understand more.

Edit: Aside from that, I have a poem/song called 'Ruining Myself' It needs a tune. If anyone wants to read it, ask me through comments or if you do have my contact, tell me.

Warning: May blind

10 MinuteComic: Page 1: The Cause

History

History shall not repeat itself no matter how much you try. It'll be worst, or it'll just be not as bad as last time. We improve, we evolve, we learn. You may think it is deja vu but it's not exact.

On to art. Today it's a comic on a novel called Bukit Kepong. It's about the communist attacks in Malaysia.

Part 1
Part 2

Note: If you found that photo on Sparkles blog, it's actually mine. -I- took it.

Trustworthy

Lies

We have the will,
Ourselves, we can kill,
Yet we live on,
'Cause there's a battle to be won.

Our creator is wise,
To implant lies,
So we would have the hope,
Instead of feeling like a dope.

Where's the truth, where's the light?
I open my eyes and nothing at sight,
I search around and nothing's found,
Not even a whisper of sound.

I have given up,
A poison-filled cup,
In front of my eyes,
To get rid of these lies.

I sipped the nectar,
It takes me to a land so far,
No more lies,
My brain dies.

Today I'll start differently. There's the poem and now is my two cents.

It's true. When we are suffering, we turn towards the balcony on the tenth floor and look upon the people below. Then our senses kick in and remind us that we are afraid of death as much as we are afraid of falling. Those who are insane would walk off the plank.

But are they insane or are they actually sane? Do they realise that there is actually no victories in life? There's only a direction pad and a quit button on the controller of life. Then there are options which stretch up to a hundred or even more. I'm currently playing 'handicapped' in my game on Difficult.

Back to my main point. A blind, almost deaf, mute, person would struggle to learn the basic survivor guide. That person does not want to die. That person is willing to live on. God or however our life works (sorry, let's not be bias) is responsible for this. Is it good or bad? I t's both. So let's just live with it.

What Are The Odds?

What are the odds of getting a green in roulette? Two out of thirty-eight. What are the odds of being who you are today? Probably One in a few billion. What are the odds of having someone feeling the same way you feel at the same time? How would we know since no one shares their feelings anymore.

We seclude our feeelings in a dark corner so no one will ever find out. Me? I just write them down in words which wouldn't make sense. If you don't understand, don't try too hard. It's worthless.

No poetry or art today. I've been working on something for school presentation. It's a comic. If you were wonder, you can look at Peako's blog.

Edited:
A poem I just did.

What Would The World Be

What would the world be if it were square?
What will we do when nobody is going to dare,
Walk of the edge and see if they would fall,
Or would the gravity pull them all?

What would the world be in black and white?
Only two colours in our plain sight,
Would there still be choices or only two ways;
Only night and morn for our days?

What would the world be in a game?
Would life be the very same,
Or we would our freedom be gone
And life would end if we won?

What would the world be if we were emotionless?
Would we stop caring due to thickness,
Would life be dull, would population die?
And no one would notice the days go by.

What would the world be if I were dead?
Would all of your trouble slowly fade?
A pest is gone, your luck increase,
And all your problems slowly cease.

I really wonder...