the alice chase

I find romance in Yū Aoi (Hana and Alice), Yu Fisher's photography/ Candy Rain, Lu-yi's fictional characters ; love in Nana(manga), Collage of Our Lives, The Little Mermaid, The Snow Queen.

the alice chase

the white rabbit chases after time, alice chases after the white rabbit, i chase after alice.
time chases after me.

March

Suddenly it is March (it is wrong of me to archive time as sudden, especially when I have observed how it slips by in a flurry). Perhaps I have not used all five senses going about life. Despite the entry being recorded 0008hrs, Sg time, I am in Houston, TX which is 13 hours behind. Traveling back and forth in time, sometimes I pass by the same hour twice; it is of a bit regret that I do not understand how to appreciate certain moments to the fullest until much later upon reflection.

Tokyo was cold. I hibernated despite being on holiday, train rides were long and the rainy mornings were early. It snowed the day we departed from Narita Airport. Haruki Murakami's Norwegian Wood was screening in the system but I willed myself not to watch, preferring to leave the text as imaginary illustration instead of chosen faces picked by a casting director.

I regret not throwing a snow ball at you, just once would have made a nice memory. 9th Mar, Japan received a 7.2 magnitude foreshock, followed by the main earthquake on 11th Mar. 7th Mar, we headed for home. Deep down I know you would try the hardest to bring us to safe grounds if the earthquake had wanted us. You work the hardest, always. For that I fell in love, and in love with you.

Who are we anyway?

Mayday in October skies

The last hours on Friday evenings are the longest, while come Sunday evenings I begin to dread Monday mornings (unless it is a holiday). I am not a frank person and have begun to rely on a facade of smiles. Even if it comes across awkward, it acts as my defensive mechanism. Class has been, unforgiving.

Winter approaches London, I miss freedom. Osaka summer breeze, Czech town square. Clear skies in Wonderland right now Alice, halcyon days ahead.

We are all robots

September is around the corner, and I am three weeks into training. It's been a month since the adventure in Kansai, a distant memory to be kept away. Ahead is a written programme where instructions have been detailed out on how to behave, react and serve. The intensity is quite expected, the standards spell 'accountability' for every mistake. Watching yourself as a clone in an army isn't exclusive, my ability to adapt a tad slow.

The human side of things, there are places;people I miss, memories reviewed for recollection. The attic is in the midst of change.

∞

paradox love infinity

Neverland

5.03am, July 18

My drafts have been short, words too few to construct an entry properly. It is July, 2 months and say, 5 days til I turn 23. Not particularly a novelty, age assumes its own responsibilities and eventually this frustrating need to grow up suffocates all options to be free. A madcap adventure (?) awaits me, impulsive as it seems, I believe (1) it is something I need to achieve - before assuming the much coveted profession which has left me unsure what to think of it. It might be an unconscious effort to escape, the undoubted human characteristic innate - a very coward thing to do. The need to glorify as seen in eg. (1) perhaps to retrieve some lost pride/some sort of redeeming excuse including the need to babble about much coveted job.

I tire of my faults. No Peter Pan, in Neverland, I didn't know once I grow up, I can never come back. Was it never? Never ever, ever ever.

You

There is a beautiful photograph of you sleeping on the seat next to the window in the train. The sunlight hits your neck and your face partially, outlining soft silhouettes. Photographs bring you closer, and sometimes further.
(But it's still you.)
Beautiful, just like memories.

The Sixth Station

“Sudden Wholeness”
Jalaluddin Rumi

A thousand half loves
must be forsaken to take
one whole heart home.

translated by Coleman Barks

goodnight; thank you

Explosions in the Sky

(via fuckyeahtattoos; giulianna)

Hong Kong's a busy city. The weather was cold. Everyday one Ghibli movie was featured. Everyday I walk with an empty head, following blindly because it is all unfamiliar and very busy. I delight in its desserts and wanton noodles. I take photographs of love instead because. Just because.

I want my words to regurgitate like vomit instead of unreliable faltering courage. "hello, hi! how's your day?" like neighbours or simply a child's surpassing cheerfulness. I miss poetry; writing in general (Insert - eloquence not an instilled forte).

"Like I said, disappearances happen. Pains go phantom; blood stops running and people, people fade away. There's more I have to say, so much more... But, I disappeared.""
- Meredith Grey (Grey's Anatomy, Season 3; Episode 16)

I do not watch Grey's often, in fact I only watch it if it comes up on television. My favourite episode is Drowning on Dry Land. Cristina is anxious; Meredith falls; the world is busy and a little girl is lost. To be honest, I do not know your favourite episodes, your current loves; what surrounds you. The music you like, which pair of headphones you use; your favourite tee.

To put my heart at ease, I try to recall memories - what I have of you.
Depp, ESOTSM, Grey's, Dengeki Daisy. I imagine to meet up and get all awkward. Or a coincidence in Kinokuniya which never happens. Those ever possible possibilities.

Your Hand in Mine on repeat.

Apathy

Pity-party misery indulge me. This frittering apathy drums endlessly in my head.

Carpe diem

This year, Chinese New Year passed by rather quietly. I drifted in and out of gatherings, had my fill of quietude and now it's back to work. Despite consciously knowing time passes too quickly, I continue meandering in procrastination. Carpe diem! ; All the unnecessary speculation about everything and nothing, without an ounce of curiosity and inducing unease, begone so that we may see prettier skies.

the alice chase ; halcyon days

Rabbit-hearted

These hands do not fit -
They crush. They grip.
They pinch,
and finally they let go.

The isolated drafts in my blog mock me to pulp.

After working for two straight weeks, feels good to recover some hp, unwind and meet up old friends - through coincidence or not.

Made a couple of goals to acquire (lest to use the word achieve sounds too grand). There's a lot of talk about marriage and resignation within the workplace recently. It's been a solid year of stable income and I hope for more job security and staff welfare. (Fat hoping?) Hahahahaha, sheesh. Nevertheless, I am looking for options despite my bond... just in case.

Re-reading Kimi Ni Todoke makes me wish for a more clean-cut personality. (Or for lack of better vocabulary, to be more honest yet modest.) It feels so easy to put feelings into the character's shoes (Friendship in manga; the unfolding of consequences in a number of pages). Envy the gentle Sawako for her genuine naivety and shyness. Despite telling myself not to jump into conclusions, I cannot help but make assumptions. This is due to anxious human nature, so... would that make it okay?

Took me an hour and a half to post this, sheesh* fail.

Yours

I know all the honey lemons in the world do not taste as good as yours.

Flower on the Precipice

title reference: Flower on the Precipice

With the new year approaching, I reflected a little during a bejeweled game. Love has been working hard on his dream while I, on the other hand, am impassive and on the verge of boredom with the slow update of manga titles. Couple that up with the upcoming trip of shifts amounting to more than twelve hours each, my mood has been significantly dampened for the whole month of December.

New year resolutions are not compulsory and therefore I have not made any and am not planning to do so (and just as I finished the sentence, I thought about saving up for holidays, sheesh). My affair with money is... scandalous (up to reader's digression).

I have written a fair share of honest entries this year including this one instead of the usual prose due to a lack of inspiration; speaking of which, I also have far neglected my pen-friend in the US. Christmas gifts are problematic as I search for practicality. Relationships... precarious, I've become too careful and awkward; I have had no idea I would turn out this way when I was seven.

Despite all the above negativity, my nonchalant attitude speaks for itself. Perhaps I have failed to love myself? Yes life, the answer could possibly be that I must have grown up.

Must work harder, must love harder.

Earth

It is December, I should have some sort of reality check before the new year sets in.

Out there, somewhere

One day I would like to party like mad, drink lots of alcohol, scream all I want. Before I become tame.

tame

"No," said the little prince.
"I am looking for friends.
What does that mean to tame?"

"It is an act too often neglected,"
said the fox.
"It means to establish ties."

- The Little Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupery, 1943

It is also the mad hatter's dream, to be tamed.
And so it is, November is on her way.

Days

I miss school, and part of it;

The long bus rides, a past experience of sleeping on a female stranger's shoulder, knocking my head against windows on bumpy bus rides, the last minute revisions... and last but not least missing my bus stop.

I have a friend who has been encouraging me to write all these years. I do not have a flair for the language and practice has become dull. Past written fiction have beginnings, yet I've given no endings because ...just because. Endings are definitely harder, right?

On side note, Fisher and Paykel washing machine impressed me.

Counteraction

hello you, for being away and quiet for so long; what is it that you have to say? the recent grey and rainy days content my subdued psyche; to pin for something reckless is a counteraction and seems undesired for among loved ones and even to my basic moralities. So I shall continue to keep quiet because the time is not ripe.

hello

hello trust
hello friendship
hello faith
hello love

here is goodbye.

You are Alice

This is Alice with her cheap love.
I am Alice.

dirt

i dont want to be a messy lover.

we dig dirt deeper with cheap spades
Peter Pan lives in denial; Rumpelstiltskin loses his name game
Rapunzel suffers from Stockholm,
We have kings who promise their daughters for saviors
Is there nothing better to offer?
(look: The Twelve Dancing Princesses, The Nutcracker)

I vaguely remember a Jack-in-the-Box in The Nutcracker, but it seems that i am wrong.
I was sure September would seem daisier; it is random with an assortment of knots.
You apologize, it's dawn; I wake up feeling weary.

disguise

Amidst the silence, you're a disguise of my tomorrow.

August

July ended in bad taste, bringing resent into August. Work has left me quite empty, I sincerely wish for a holiday - nothing too sunny or cold. As for now, let me mull over the fact that I need a hobby to keep myself busy; not manga. Much less to say about the usual hangouts, shops close by 9pm and clubs are just... let's just say I'm not too adventurous (though I wouldn't mind an invitation from close friends). Sheesh, it's the weekend and my world seems to be ending.

Hello tomorrow.

On hindsight, maybe I should churn out a 1500 word essay with the main topic as "Rude passengers who do not keep their luggage under seats deserve their just desserts should turbulence occurs. Discuss."

alice blue

July has just been painted with light strokes of silvery gold over a vague ensemble of gray, blue and off-white.

Grey's

"We’re friends, real friends, and that means no matter how long it takes, when you finally decide to look back, I’ll be here."
- Grey’s Anatomy (via littlemiss) (via brokenmachine)(via youmakemewannashout)

Opportunity

Pete Murray & John Mayer perform "Opportunity" live at the ARIA awards

Map to Wonderland

'Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?'
'That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,' said the Cat.
- Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

Deja vu

meme; graniph.

b. Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain; Yann Tiersen.
This morning before I woke up, I dreamt of you. (and strangely, with a pair of big black plastic specs)
In school, we droned on homework, made fun of films and Chandler. Ogled at Des Wee, doodled on notebooks, stayed up late and wondered about the future.
deus.èx.machina, magic
I miss you, thank you.

Raymond Dufayel:
Go to the bedroom, Miss Poulain.
So, my little Amélie,
You don't have bones of glass.
You can take life's knocks.
If you let this opportunity slip away,
eventually,
your heart will become as dry and brittle as my bones.
So, go get him, for Pete's sake!

Sleepless

Defeated by caffeine.

Change

a.
The days have become quiet, I have been preoccupied with work. Writing has been stringent, I have little to say. Recent dreams and memories wear me down, these should have long expired nevertheless they come back to haunt. Hello, fuck you, screams the split personality. I am tired, angry at the world, disappointed mostly at myself. Lines running in my head, drafts improvised and recycled. "Did you realize all I could give you that time was my honesty?"

At the end of the day, it speaks for itself. I am hopeless and need much help.
543

b.
Thank you.

c.
How are you?

Thought

I have grown up to be a sad person.

room 707

I will wait.

Tea

sometimes when we keep quiet;
our tea turns cold.
our tea turns cold;
because we keep quiet - 

while i watch you breathe out in the cold.

Goodbye

There are many things I want (and want to do) - Buy tins of chocolate powder at six dollars each, selling each cup of hot chocolate I make six dollars each, become a lesbian, shoot nude photography, sue people and make some money, have unneccessary atttention ; the list goes on.

I used to want to - be a lesbian, a principal of an orphanage, write more scripts, save the world. Well, you see how time changes people.

Heading to Australia is some sort of escapism for this week.

comfort

I am miserable to the point I want any comfort food. Coming home today feels like it's been a chore.

fiction

One does not need to be schizophrenic to believe in fictional characters. They linger around, representations of familiar faces. Still, Nana Osaki is not you.

These days, I wake up to unfamiliar settings - a different bed, the toilet tiles, view from the window... The same routine happens - (I sleep some more) brush my teeth, wash up and boil some water to make hot chocolate. The television is switched on, usually it's the morning news - It's good to have some noise when you're alone. This way, you don't think much; media eats you up and you follow the ways of the world.

chapter 81, page 28

room 707

a state of love that we cannot bring ourselves to believe in
an awkward silence in the shade of gray, the pauses were white
it starts off as a stutter; there's a word -- note: the eyes

now, mail becomes unwritten when there is so much to say.
yes, awkward is a shade of gray.

luna

today i became a gift-wrapped walking time bomb, you hear the tics but you never see the time.
i'm telling you the red wire will not trigger, definitely. I must be sick, to wear you out like that. Self medicate your m&ms.

luna is a lunatic.

tea

we would have liked to spend our days quietly, sipping hot tea, complaining it burnt the tip of tongue and eventually laughed it off.

clockwork

in notebooks, we scribbled and made fun of love
journals, we left them as they were.

'"They say that nameless things change constantly - that names fix them in place like pins. But without a name, a thing isn't quite real either. Maybe you're not a real thing."' - Holly Black, Ironside, Chapter 8, Page 188

it doesn't have to be a loud big bang
each tap a piano key, somewhat a chime
a dose of sea, stardust, glue and the random quietness
anklet charms and of want.

eternal sunshine of the spotless mind

sometimes alice is you
the make believe alice is me
sometimes sarah is.

This was now is lost, a douse of salt
familiarity is a fleet of firsts, same for love.
similarity; a lingering second, only to find thirds
fourth, definition made common by humanity

air is often taken for granted

happenstance

have you forgiven me?
i would like to know where's the restart button, right from day one.
nana chapter 30, page 2

happenstance, june

although it's neither here nor there, i am glad you're still here.
it's a lot quieter, something went awry, i wonder if you remember me the same way i do you.

Attic

Sorry, that canister of film that I left unfinished.

air

word muse for now:
vague void volatile velvet

it's like kneading dough, unpredictable and shapeless.

cafe

the caterpillar is a pillar and a cat
the elephant is a type of ant
ice cream is a type of cream and ice.
coffee is a type of fee

*infinite, helloxlove.

Mannequin

A mannequin shop sells their toys. Old and new.
Here's the flavor of the month:
vanilla.

ambiguity

it is you - the girl with the bambi eyes, i miss you.

constellation

these ragged lines like bed hair outline your softness
a constellation trace, these dots on your face all the way to hands

this is a blog of selfish reasons. There are youths out there who take the bus past midnight for the rides, a cyclist who cannot find his way; she finds her button nose too big, her face a little old for her age. how crazy, this tea feeds ecstasy, wired in artery.

our world may be a giant hologram
thanks love.

the ideal alice

i'm craving for a slice of yummy cake now.

the ideal alice sips tea and listens to symphonies.
she ties her hair into a bun and accidentally leaves out a lock of hair.
Her hair is testimonial to her life.

Quietly this excitement morphs into hesitation. It would be good to get away for a while (under self-conviction), ease my smothered heart with caffeine and sugar. My perception of life and the world in general has been simple enough - trust, hope and love (often figurative). My heroes are manga characters who believe in these 3 motifs, unwavering and undaunted - as such, there's naruto, orihime and luffy. Reminiscence comes in form of Spirited Away, all that broken remainder pieces of love wrapped and repackaged for the unknown future. A penpal, a stranger; all the coincidences in life.

dust

i collect dust and someday i might just drink water like how we breathe air

atomic

The signing of a contract does not pull me back to earth suddenly, perhaps when training officially starts and the first trip to the airport in uniform will. I have longed to leave this madhouse to its self-destruct antics and was just a signature away from it all along. I cannot and can never save this situation, I do not (want to) give a damn. Despite this, I know I would eventually contradict myself and succumb to it all - Blood is after all, still thicker than water.

I am not saying I do not love its patients, myself included. The most careless, carefree part-fool, part-daydreamer able to escape most of its jailbreaks, leaving the rest to bear the brunt is me. The second and third bait, fourth and fifth sponges. I am sorry I do not know how to take responsibility for the state of the madhouse, because all I do is run away and complain. I love you i love you i love you and you. Sometimes the other two, it depends heavily how quiet the madhouse is.

Still, the thought of these screams ring in my head, sometimes to the point I cannot remember one good memory. I'm sure it's the same for all of you too. I know words in my head I have not said, these repeat in my head in many ways of 'Why', 'What', 'Who', 'How', 'When' and 'Where'. I am suspicious of people who get too close to the madhouse's patients, for even outside the madhouse lies beasts, traps, liars and hypocrites who feed on wounds. If you did understand all I have said, hello to 2oo9.. it might not be the last madhouse blood-riot, I have to get all of you out of here soon. (Where? ...somewhere quiet)

There's no need to understand anything in this situation, take and run.
God forgive me, I am tired too.

your feet curl in the shape of kidney beans when you fall asleep
misinterpreted, ingenuity has positioned you as an angel on sale

dirt

this is the pout that has been glazed with dirt
perhaps that cartridge was left unfinished for a reason
oh! hello december, i almost forgot to notice you.

malfunction

this veil of lace does not cover my grin but lest it shades the windows to my soul

metaphor

john mayer makes the world sound like an open wide sky.
infinite, starry and then there would be this blackout where we all learn to appreciate everything suddenly. so it's hello december the eighth, you might want to clear up my tab at the bartender's.

Eyes

give me your daisies, they're a symbol of your love which i have been coveting. Familiarity has been foreign in my face and it's getting weary. Other than feeling lost, I tire of looking at people in the eye. November was loud, an explosion of fireworks; some sort of color spill; unlike a pinata a balloon burst probably more appropriate; would have liked to get a great yell out of my lungs. To a quiet December, cheers.

delete

如果

if - a sort of fruit

RED

Your nail polish stains the bedsheets cause you never cared for it to dry. There are dreamers who live by the guitar.

All your characters meet at some point of time in your story.
Is there a reason? (No.) Do you have a favourite, they ask.
It stumps you.
Is there a plan? (No.)

hate

on days that are mundane, we begin wondering where do we belong
sometimes it just doesn't make sense to stay here for too long, we go crazy
rather than being human, be fiction

gold

we watch a fish struggle for life so as to exact revenge on those we cannot
a goldfish doesn't remember but we do, so do we.

on days when i am not conscious of you, i might have a chance at living.

loud

i would like to be a residential experiment in the asylum thus i am writing in for the position. Attached are my resume and contact details. Hiding while waiting is sometimes tiring. It is the wait that keeps your feet on their toes. They say, "Do not worry" so we crow and we crow til the buzz in our head drowns out. i'm at a loss. i lost hope, i'm a lost cause, i've lost. i'm lost. I'm pretty good at forgetting, I woke up yesterday morning and realized you amaze me; your capacity of love that is.

the guilty are not charged in the madhouse.
daydreamers are sinners too.

blame

in the madhouse there are lovers,
scapegoats, bait, daydreamers, corrupted and innocents
the wardens have poison on their lips, serpent tongues and reptile eyes
the mail box is full on thursdays, instructions for the cook
there are astronauts waiting to take over the moon
we blame these fools, condemn and out of conceit
the asylum's open, visiting hours only on the thirteenth hour

hanging dirty lingerie out in public
喜欢捉迷藏

貓

here's my spine for your guitar's neck.
Feel free to choke

mono discrepancy

we misinterpret the monotones
your ribs give a dull note
we'll play with your hair, note the eyes
the rest are mine.

mono frequency

我不是娜娜

Her hair in our kisses was cut off the following winter
She said she liked the chill on her neck, the sun on her back in the afternoon

October is a humid month...

2.29 - 3.00

there is laundry in the cellar we do not want to touch
wine in the wash for their stains are not dry
a strip of love cemented in these walls while the bricks are cracked and falling apart
this is a fossil, we do not understand it nor question for it has become a fact
not fiction

i am no gladiator so i cannot wear gladiator sandals
nor a dorothy, so i cannot wear dorothy perkins

butson cummings erlichman gottlieb russell yeats
rainy days courier of love

primary

love is a secondary word

sasha

nana, i miss you
the mannequin loses its head, and who's to blame?
while the cat sleeps, she threads softly so that it does not miss her
the madder only has apple tea and tiramisu to offer
on rainy days

23

i wants graniph shirt! pull&bear sicko19 jeans! wants wants wants~
yufisher's candy rain photobook please!
in love with green

thank you mum for the lovely necklace.

these words have been erased, deleted and repeated
morse code becomes a lullaby
frisky, we can't put a face to her back
elevation, curiosity spends her days tired and old
you are slow to dawn, day has his eyes on the moon

heading to bangkok with boss
see you in a week's time, maybe

braille

our tongues are cheap
like braille we trace skin, in hope to make up for sight
i find you haggling
"daisies for your love madam, daisies for your love."
that pout does not belong to you
these lips for another
apples for your lilies;

on humid days she ties her hair up
you see her rabbit shaped ears, neck and chest
up for sale

trick

we perform tricks on each other as though we're magicians
but we do not have cards up our sleeves
these imp-like actions, we criticize and fall apart
there's a broken down radio transmission in the far corner of your room
out your window - the world

i am a shoujo robot on auto-pilot
chasing white rabbits in alice's wonderland in a maze for two
i am alice, the red queen, the cheshire cat, the flower on the precipice
i'm all pretence anyway

once i met a robot

vulgar

a half hearted day
fuck words such as heartbroken and love that are so cliche
yet i have no other descriptive words for Joyce
yes Joyce no Joyce, Joyce Joyce Joyce Joyce Joyce
i hate that name.

vulgar
consider fuck = sex, i must have been shouting "SEX!" "SEX!" "SEX!" yesterday afternoon
my drafts are beginning to look like that too. fuck

goodnight.

cigarettes and milk

a carton of milk expires on my birthday
same to my twentieth year of resolutions
a cigarette to commemorate history
it burnt the hem of my dress, i will never light it again.

3.18 - 3.23

an apple lies about her blood being red
while eyes closed, she dreams of another
a cat dies on her thirteenth life
she sleeps through car lights and fluorescent
love becomes fiction, is was are were made no sense
these are the stripes i walked in, draped over my chest
we breathe out these clouds, sigh a little and say goodbye
grow up and seed wisdom in your head, little girl
albeit fiction was love and love was fiction, we made love non-existent
meltdown and scraped knees, elbows; tears on cheeks
we scream we want infinity, we will never make it.

i hope you're happy, pomegranate seeds and Persephone.

A jester spends her days laughing.

pomegranate

everyone wants to save a damsel in distress
persephone ate the bleeding pomegranate
one day i was a boy

wonder

i wonder what was the value of your love

it's like saying, oh okay here's your consolation prize.
haa-hahahaha

september

hello August,
the skies have been ugly, they do not speak of the vulnerability you promised
we wipe chalk off this board and these chipped nail polish on my fingers will eventually wear off
toothpaste still tastes the same and so does my cooking
my eyes have been dull and i do not make wishes anymore
we take sides in the maze that meets no end and drop gingerbread crumbs (i can see those on your lips)
here are my keys to the piano and the map from tracing all these necks and collarbones

we sink lower into September

drift

i like how sarah clasps her bra over two locks of hair
eventually it will be history

soar

breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe

think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think think

why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why

i have no idea what i am doing in life

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

daydream

we have names we refuse to believe in
so tie your hair around your neck like a collar, sarah
and leave it to splinter
the tip of your lower lip
the daydream begins and ends on a major G.

someone out there is crying for you
why do you look so heartbroken for, sarah

gymnopedie

hands and fingertips
the curve of fingernails
tracing necks and collarbones over and over and over again
one by one i'll draw them all
the arch of eyelids
the lower lip
red; knuckles, bones and ankles

ears
hollow hello hello hello i repeat all over again
your name? do i know you? hello hello hello we sing as we blink a different shade of blue we tap these fingers on paper and cellophane walls we forget to take the kettle out of its pot hello we blink as we sing a different shade of green lower lip and teeth tongue to cheek crinkle at grin

the alice i knew

let's go on to number 2
we make a curtsy, a taunt and a tort
the alice i knew was raven haired and fair faced
pout lipped and siamese eyed
you aint no alice, my doll in the glass paned shop

an alice in wonderland's maze for two

my white rabbit chase around the maze
down the tunnel, we see no light
an underground merry-go-round
in and out the maze we go, lost the hare and lost some hope
tears run dry, oh dear alice we have to go
goodbye tomorrow, we'll swim gaily in our own messes and puddles
with hatters and soldiers, painted roses and magic potions
all in our worn out shoes and dirty coat dresses

goodbye today, we'll wake up in wonderland
we'll see forever and ever in our hands
dirt-smudged a little imperfect
it's okay we say we'll go this way
hansel and gretel and these little bread crumbs

we're up to mischief, says she

i remember you
the one that smiled a million times for me
the one that laughed a throaty chorus of stars
eyes like bambi, a toast we screamed forever and ever
i like you the song that sang a pitch too high
they screamed over and over again for us to be together
we held on we ran, the bus dash from the gates
the great leap over the puddle, a peppermint chocolate stick
i want you, i forgot we cannot speak
of us, and we, perhaps oh maybe frosting on our lips
i forgot you the one with shiny black hair and hands for him

i'm sorry i dont know what to say
"how was your day?" seems too simple
i'll try again someday

how was your day?

i forgot

is that alright with you, asks lisa hannigan

it's not that i dont want to write down the events that i've been with you
cause reliving it, then knowing you had fun outside me
it feels painful and tight around the heart
that's how selfish i am

then i rather forget but sometimes it comes back to me like a balloon
deflated but it's there, a dull rush of air

or you could say it's like a blown up balloon which might pop any moment
not knowing when hurts even more

but do you know the feeling you get when you dont know when it's going to happen
then it happens and you dont feel like you should feel
the excitement of it goes below the 100% you ought to give?

goes with my theory of preparing beforehand, not to expect much or you'll be disappointed, apparently it works the other way round too

and if you (i), the reader am thinking what happened, nope no particular event happened

watch "BEAUTIFUL LIFE" for quotes though

blackmail

i'm an angry girl hatred jealousy envy blood blood blood all in my dictionary bleed bleed bleed for me i miss you the voice in my head says die die die wait till i feel so empty and broken that i'm beyond your attempts to save whatever you have used against me blackmail chain me sweet to that corner an asylum i've always wanted to the madhouse i say to the madhouse.

all my favourite words in my vocabulary

peekaboo games

this blood is not like the usual ones you play with
he lets the red slip through his fingers
sweet sweet red

she forgets

yes i do love you, they lie

404 Page Not Found

error it states.
refresh restart so when you get lost in a maze how do you restart?
(shikamaru plot)
forget teaser a hint of a grin
amnesia a solution for all
it should be an alcohol, i bet it'll come in handy

rules to obey (thirteenth hour and its laws)

i can save you, he whispered to her in that corner
but oh don't they all say the same thing
they lie (hooker, prostitute, liar)

pushed/forced/driven into a corner (madness, weakness, suicide)
make-believe can be another reality (what ifs and wishes)

draft

i (abhor)(admire)(am pleased)(like)(demand)(command)(detest) your devotion
it calls for much sympathy
pity on my part, she grins sickly

selling your devotion for my fun

wind secrets down the train
draft wrath drift sift through the many (levels)(volumes)(measures) of devotion

now now, how do you compare levels of devotion
measure faith?
define love?
dictate hurt?

the war of death gods

the last of death gods

devotion does not equal to commitment
your loyalty does not need my permission
commit sin; signing your affections

for a bottle of love

checkmate, the queen eats his king
it's your choice for this is your last life to see me, the queen asked her knight
thirteen lives, i grant you to see me
thirteen chances
thirteen choices

first to devote (1)
one to sense (2)
one to watch (3)
one to seek (4)
one to meet (5)
one to impress (6)
one to know (7)
one to feel (8)
one to touch (9)
one to change (10)
one to understand (11)
one to die for (12)
last to believe (13)

rouge
mannequin

savior

(you lie)

what happens when your savior lies to you
nothing.

washed out like how denim bleeds
intuition leads you to secrets unopened
envelopes that seek to please

what about an oracle's son
what of a prophecy's son

sold and displayed
overrated wantings all in that lithe body

definition and volume

promises have become so overrated
so has love and its concepts
love and its charade of flirts
(brothel, secrets and echos of lies)

whole, God has made us whole
wholesome, eyes nose mouth skin ears
a mind, to think
instinct, intuition to sense
what's wrong what's right and what's inbetween

void

"so, what's love?" skye said

savior
i'll like to think that everyone needs a savior
to hold on to, even if it's just the corner of a sleeve
strong emotions like pulling the collar of a shirt
wake up, he says
like punching his chest
i hate you, she says over and over again
then amidst death, chain down your savior
one after another, it becomes a burden/ a sacrificial lamb/ responsibility

void, space, negative, vacuum
avoid, neglect, abandon, ignore
forgive, forsake, rewind, replay

i believe i read these sad stories, so that to a point of time i can break down just like them

split personality

an excerpt,

"what if i do stick to one of my split personalities permanently?"
"the results vary, my Queen"
"is it irreversible?"
"i'm afraid not, my Queen"
"ah, is that so"
"may i ask why the sudden question, my Queen?"
"somebody's calling inside of me"

- yuffie & the doctor

they do not need to tell me but i know facades go a long way. cause sudden changes make people nervous for they do not know how to go about it and there is no need for that.

a+b=c

constancy does not equal familiarity
and i read somewhere that a constant is a given
(does that mean change is a given?)
constancy is not tendency

i think i lack discipline and organization

i'm all pretence anyway

despite all the rain these past few days, the heavens decided to give it a break and allow me to do my cinematography assignment. sweeeet, but i'm not exactly happy with the arrangement for i'm running out of excuses if this turns out to be bad. oh well, but i've come up with a rather good theory why it's been raining so heavily. ever felt so dirty that you just want to wash your hands over and over again, scrape your skin with your nails and get a new life? i suppose planet Earth is reacting like that (assumably on a planetarium theme instead of country-based). but i suppose you could always deal with the in-your-face theory that Antarctica's ice bergs are melting thus the rising water level of oceans and seas, the wearing ozone layer and meteorites smashing Earth. last one was made up for lack of better metaphors.

an allegiance, an oath you promised me

infatuation is a game love loved to play
strange fidelity and fickle like how a shadow slips in through corners of light
covet and hate, they manipulate such war politics
personalize; you make your own reality

stranger than strange

what eyes do not see
the ears hear
then what ears do not hear
the mind speaks
and if the mind remains unvoiced
the heart seeks
ultimately when the heart stops believing
you cease to exist

strangers and forgings

we cant entirely remember the beginnings
we've been misled, lost a path or two
disqualified, unworthy we use words such as these

copy; reprint is the new in.

welcome to the freakshow

today we have some very important star players, namely:
love, hate and death!
what should we do with them, oh dear, i have absolutely no idea!

"make love and death have sex!" one shouted with glee
death smirked, love shivered, hate glanced away
the kiss of death was not one to play with, it seemed death was enjoying himself throughoutly, little miss love shuddered with thoughts of how could they be so cruel while hate seemed to be playing with her subconscience.

well well, welcome to the freakshow babies, pay your ticket and drink in the beer.

untitled

give me a title
queen king clown servant knight master slave and savior
spades diamonds clubs hearts
give me a title
war foe fiend friend blood and gore
kiss miss bide bye hello and see you again
give me a title
just to label
a name for a vessel
a title worthy of a visual
a portrait of myself
title, genre, name; class; number

the difference between intervene and interrupt

it's been a long time since i had a long entry. i could rant i believe i am jaded cynical i could scream my world contains of the madhouse which i think is another dimension in itself, my favourite words infinity blood symphony, last exile naruto full metal alchemist bleach angst emo drama nana visuals lyricals and random thoughts in my head we have a map of the piano deviantart livejournal blogspot

in the end i have no idea what to write
about my day about who i've seen about who crossed my path today

the difference between intervene and interrupt
would be the very same answer for blue and red

hate mail

hi world,
stop looking at me as though you can see me naked already
i hate you,
J.

at gun point

we all live on high strung drama
melancholy, we love to pretend
we feed off romance, we drink to heartaches
melody and misery in sync
angst bleeds through every heartbeat
(i find myself breathing to the two dimensional
my life in a comic book)

filter

and sometimes the blood he stares at, isn't his
he feigns death would come to take him soon
he fears karma for he has sinned

- edward elric fic
paper dolls have crepe for dresses

filter through glass they say, are the windows through your soul
filter filth flirt till your soul turns cold

"...where the music is free, slip gone until the dawn's gone with me"
- drew sidora

swiftly she winds through the crowd

i hear the clicks of your tongue
they creak and they crack(le), the little breaths you inhale
i want to touch these sounds and catch them

but who was i to believe i could touch these sounds?
inspired by "mum - we have a map of the piano"
visual trigger "a mango shaped space"

i could see her walking through the crowd in a trenchcoat

AUTO-PILOT

it seems that we are all living in a world of demands, instructions and pain/ denial/ backstabbing.

so i'm now giving you a choice to choose inbetween a robot or a zombie. toy the idea of reality and the two dimensional. i'm seeing the world in robots and living zombies.

i felt a little broken seeing Gab today. i went on auto-pilot after that.

eternity

if dying earlier means to see less hurt, i wouldn't mind

good reads: kimi_no_vanilla
serenade
still life in monochrome

NAMING PUPPETS

the theatre where they slaved
marionettes, rag, paper and barbie dolls
(i'll name every one of them)
a number, a code, a toy for all
brothel be seen, a subculture for the rural
mannequins for display, quote your prices
suburban unite, a cruel nation for rue

a gathering of murderers
who gets the bounty, who gets the kill?
an eye for an eye, the twins, the wicked or the bold?

and i only have eyes for the moon

NEW FOUND LOVE... or not.

i cant remember the indecent favour i promised MR DARREL T.
and the conversation was quite fun/frustrating anyhow. OH WELL<3

one day will come and take me silently

one day we'll all grow up and we'll all have babies (oh those little tramps we always adored cuddling in their prams in the trains and streets!) we'll coo and we'll crumble to their wheeze and sneeze.

that is if one day will come.

your finale i've yet to seen
a tragic end i'm anticipating, i believe

fake and naught, flawed or taught

it's too late to be going out now,
perhaps party animals are better off

i have two separate lives
i live two separate times

what about you?
would you live time in fleet, on feet?
i once heard when you die, that particular day repeats over and over again.

drink some tea

the line's running over and over my head time and time again
i miss a little you
i breathe a little you
it's almost as though i can reach out, swipe the air and touch
but what? the head screams, what? what are you, my head it wants to know.
i could imagine being in a virtual world
i could but the image's not there
air and air, just more air
i want to see, i want to see

then the feeling would be gone, wouldn't it?
you would be gone.
you whom i repeat over and over my head, would be gone.

perhaps i could imagine you as me; my split personality.

when stars bleed

... they seek company
amongst your misery
they grin and grin
like siamese cats literally

a painful semester, i am sure soon i will need some sweetened coffee to power up my mornings. believe me, it's cut throat i wonder if i'll get into an accident just to get away from homework.

sometimes i believe, i seek company just for the sake of it. i wonder when i'm rich, whether i'll pay just to see dolled up company?

my principles are at stake (maybe i should gamble on whether i'll go to heaven if i ever get a tattoo)

while gods have wine

sometimes i see friendship as a pathetic thing
perhaps it is my perspective of friendship that eats me

BAD BLOOD

by thiej+lou; fienj=lu; monster fables}bfd
you who can save my life; quiet! for the night is sleeping

school's eating my brains, i'm taking on more than i can chew. i shouldn't have to try so hard anyway since i'm so passive. grrrr, mew.

BLACKBERRIES

taste thee blackberries for they turn sweet in summer

CLASS CLOWN

i dreamt KENNY P. asked me from a piece of paper "DEFINE THE MEANING OF A FRIEND"
i remember hesitating (and he said: "what? dont you know how to answer this?") before answering jokingly: "A FRIEND IS TO BE LOVED AND CARED FOR" i actually wanted to recite that verse "LOVE IS PATIENT LOVE IS KIND" as a joke. i found out i couldnt even that either. but the point where i hesitated, i realized i didn't know an answer either.

joycie polly like a monkey kissing down a valley
(what's the other line again?" - 1999-2000

imperfection

coffee stained teeth and paper chapped lips
(portrait of MYSELF)
an inch deep dimple and a hint of a grin
(portrait of love)
a canine and a smirk for imps
(portrait of death)
imperfection, what do you seek?

perhaps to taint the simple image of love, answered it
perhaps to conquer the wholesome idea of death, it mused
imperfection; like how the hair slips in the corner where your neck meets your shoulders imperfection; like how porcelain broken your eyes taunted

a grey and pink remix of blossoms
your love bite amidst cotton (imperfection; for silk always seems better)

ecstasy high

"color me blind"
your insecurities i hold them close
they taste like candy, feels like silk
slips through my fingers
ecstasy high.
- 13j said

yet they are your drugs,
they keep you alive
the colors they bear,
have colored you blind.
- krystallnacht said

QUOTE ME

infinity, she said
the fabric lie they made
MRS UZUMAKI NARUTO and the many daydreamers
jack enchou
straitjacket fetishes
oh follie hollie!
(you're my) candy stripper on the run

ENSEMBLE

i believe i have become irreversible; a hypocrite that betrays my own conscience. i dont have much factors of filial piety i believe.

ENSEMBLE ASSEMBLE; put together a me.
what you believe to be in my symphony catastrophe
apostrophe, claustrophobe
(breathe the absurd theories of Darwin, Einstein and dreams)
piece your music pitch by pitch
and your perspective of what my instruments should be
afterall it's what you presume, what pleases thee eye should be

- assumption; spectator; a third party's POV

whenever i see an old man walking down the street, my heart breaks a little. i never really got over it.

EXPIRE

so he lay there, asleep till cobwebs turned to dust
for mako can only do so much
expire, inspire, aspire
we're behind infinity she said
that's what she said!
he believed for that was what fools in love do
they believe

YOUR WALKING ZOMBIE

you're in my fable
holly and amber

i desperately need a hobby; i have no life.

nonsense on the go

we, like beasts have little hearts to play
we seek justice like how you would like to pray
drink your tea and go to sleep
for the stars hide no dark when you peep

polina seminova

it's like she could go anywhere with those pair of feet, a pair of ballet shoes. i would like to see her dancing in the streets, circle street lamps, awe the break-dancing boys. all over the world on that pair of pointe

useless conversations

i find myself asking questions in senseless conversations these days just to get time to pass by. i should write a script on this phenomenal

brown envelopes and the scent of your collar

the corner of your sleeve, coffee powder and hot water
an empty cold room

THE SCRIPTWRITER SCREAMS

GIVE ME A SCRIPT TO WRITE! A PROPER SCRIPT!!!
INSPIRE ME, KILL ME, SHOOT ME! ANYTHING!

tales from your stairway

so the little thief orphan had no place to go. she found a building and slept on the highest floor. a boy accidentally found her and she left but came back the next day. he asked her questions she never answered. questions were "dont you have a place to go back to?" "aint your parents worried?" "what are you doing here?" soon he learnt to shut up and thought maybe one has their difficulties for some secrets cannot be shared, he sat down quietly beside her just to know she's there. one day she never came back, he continued to wait. so his heart started to ache, there was a possibility she would never return. he wanted to breathe a little more freely, know some answers and wish she could stay with him forever and ever.

my album: scream your symphony

i play my words like how you string your harp
let my hands play the sweetest poem to your lark

i breathe a little you

i breathe a little you
the one whom i miss
i breathe a little you
the one whom i kiss
i breathe a little you
the one whom i wonder
i breathe a little you
i wonder is it God i'm missing
i breathe a little you
i need that hand with your kiss
i breathe a little you
i would like that nib from your lips
i breathe a little you
my heart aches a little (wanting) to find out who i miss

i need to breathe a little you
the air that i seek
to sooth the ache from chest to lips

POCKET FIGHTER

as i watched brother play pocket fighter yest, i had some idea forming in my head and now it's all foggy but i just remembered something about hsienko and sakura (or someone else) being best friends and it felt so right or something like that. if only hsienko could be in the daylight or whatsoever. or was it chunli and sakura? one so serious one so playful. or ibuki and sakura? then what bout hsienko? OH DAMMIT I CANT REMEMBER.

ninjas and samurais, ibukis and icecream and food. songstress, seamstress, puppeteers. cats sleeping by fireplaces. over rated over rated. i want to weave stories upon stories just from pocket fighter but my hand's lazy to write and my brains' too lazy to command so.

and the poison that seeps in your veins tastes the sweetest
symmetrical blood lust

personalize death

death was a little shy
he was a quiet boy
he liked to tiptoe, if he could, he would pull your hand along for a ride
poison was no doubt his candy sweet

reality series
13 photographers/make up artists roam singapore to find places to shoot their given models. models vary from short to tall, male to female
commerical purposes.

you can tell

infinity would be like the sand that slipped through your hand
because before you know it, you're long gone and lying dead in your coffin. hmmm.
tell me then, what is infinity to you?
a moment on hold, paused for your camera?
the capture, captivity within your grasp your hold your command (i'm really just bullshitting, i think you can see) how bout a new offer? 13 lives i give you, all in different worlds, yet to experience it all at the same time. your imagination holds beyond infinity, you'll be in paris, spain, old english, japan, korea, china, india, hawaii, new york, texas, hong kong, dutch all at the same time.

random

i believe it's the yearning to breathe that makes me stay
i believe it's a choice for you to make
i believe it's a belief to be alive

hello infinity

have you ever gotten this feeling of missing someone out of nowhere yet strangely not very directed to anybody. or perhaps the words have been engraved that the feeling is there for you to feel yet not simply understand. as though you see some cake and unconciously tasting its sweetness/ smelling its baked glory. i think my mind is messed up enough to feel that way.

hi grandpa, i would have liked a video to remember you by but it would be devastating to leave it behind all over again to feel the guilt of not remembering you by. sometimes i wonder what are you doing right now, i wonder how little i think of you, how much is little, how much is guilt. how much guilt is holding me, am i really being sincere, how much is it and how do you measure them.

mentally damaged

i imagine hurt would come in the form of pain. where your chest feels horribly tight and you cant breathe. where burns start to eat into flesh or when blood starts to seep.

it's like that time when i fell playing catching in primary school. it was bleeding so much and then when i look back, where's the pain now? it's all in the head. i fear pain much.

i think i'm mentally damaged. here's where i think bryan's poem is so great.

Runaway

Close the curtains
Release the birds
Under the moon
and into the stars
With a horse
we shall runaway
off into the woods
where we will stay
you are the master
and I'll willingly be your slave
We will make love
until the dawn breaks

Hush little boy
don't say a word
Before someone hears us
We may not be alone

There may be others
quite similar to us
Be quiet
Let's sleep through the night
You'll hug me
I'll hold onto you tight
I'm in bliss
Very much satisfied

We are here now
we are one
together
we will brace the future
soon to come
-----------------------

to know and to console
to imagine and to assume
to relate and to understand
all part of human communication
what makes you stronger might make another miserable.

a blond haired and blue eyed boy. looking for naruto.

chance

take your chances and take your risks
hold your hopes and watch me bleed.

what a big big word.
chance, change, hope, love.
fate, life, (plan, hurt).

naruto, you're my candy stripper on the run.

your ninja way

i imagine a scene where everyone wears a plastic mask to school, to work, at home. no one is allowed to raise their tones or allowed to take it off. no one is allowed to eat together. no one is to know your true identity. is that how a ninja works.

an old postman looks through his stack of mail and cycles past an old asylum. he reads the postcard that was sent and decides to deliver it personally to the person. they decide to go on a holiday. stealing cookies from the jar, paper bags head and just plain old dumbness.

seeing is believing

as i was watching my brother play ff ix, disc iii, ipsen's castle, the visual caused a slight fear even though the audio was of a happy tune; which had also caused it to be slightly scarier. it was like running through similar scenes, similiar places you seem to recall you have ran past before but not sure when and the cycle repeats over and over again. just the similiar places, similar patterns, running past stained glass windows, floor upon floor. same for that theory, that theory tested on humans questioning their belief on seeing is believing. that one you know, where everyone's in a theatre or something, and they were to stare at the same dot on a scrren for a period and if it moved. once someone claimed it moved, another starts to back up then others start to question if it really moved. oh whatever.

legally blonde

i believe it's the bullshit i hear, the bullshit i see, the bullshit i speak, the bullshit i feel that has made me so pent up. it's almost like breathing in bullshit. hmm, great! i've covered all 5 senses. there's absolutely no need for common sense. all you needed was a comedy on channel 5 to cheer you up.

hello play-thing,
when will you be with me? i'm almost dead and quite pent up from grovelling on dirt, i just need you to lie with me in bed and sleep. i dont want to feel so debted and i'm glad you're unable to feel, to acknowledge and recognize emotions. the concept of a chobit is ingenious, i want my chobit now.

UGLY, THINGS ARE GOING TO GET UGLY

i do not want to hang my dirty linen out for everyone to see. so i didn't tell. but truthfully, i wasn't close. what right do i have to mourn, my head contradicts so many this and thats one time my chest feels like bursting the next second it doesn't. see, i have no idea what i'm doing.

thus dont say it out dont say it out dont say it out Joyce
cause you dont remember you dont remember you dont remember anything
you dont remember much
you're so fake you're so fake you're so fake
i wonder what's in your mind
only programmes on how to react is it.
you're beyond help.

hi my name's minus 13, what bout you?

hi
i'm sick of the previous entry, makes me sound as though i've gone mad. but indeed, i might just enroll myself into an institute for counsel for my head's all fuzzy and i dont know how to control being a robot anymore. i need to reprogramme.

like whatever

LOL, when i was logging out after emailing hisyam
i saw this "Are you losing a love? - Understand human behavior to turn it around"
basket, LOLLLLLLLLLLLL

choices, your choices

He couldn't wait any longer.
...or was it he didn't want to wait any longer?

couldn't and didn't make such huge differences
and so many hidden words inbetween these two.

alas, i miss you i miss you i miss you i miss you doesn't work anymore.

mourning is tiring.

JUNE 23

It was a beautiful day today.
He chose a beautiful day to pass away.

Nothing out of the extraordinary,
the occasional sound of cars and lorries

I thought of visiting him today
I knew I wouldn't

The Windows Media Player did not appeal to me today though.
The songs were annoying and they seemed too long.

The news came just like that, I dont think I'm in shock.
I dont know.

And sentences which are incomplete should not end with a full stop

robot humans

life is beautiful > shiver through my nerves. says:
why are you bored
red dresses on top of cliffs says:
i already know how i'm going to react.
life is beautiful > shiver through my nerves. says:
?
life is beautiful > shiver through my nerves. says:
what do you mean lol

ah, it's like predicting your moves already.
you're going to stare if they irritate you.
you're going to wake up thinking stupid.
you're going to write nonsense again.
you're going to sprout out something incredible once in a blue moon.
you're going to type and churn out something on spot.
you're going to eat this and that.
you're going to die.

yes, just like a robot. how true, hui.

bored zzzz

i'm so bored of being Joyce, are you bored of yours?
truth be told, i dont know. i dont know if i'm truly bored being Joyce. sometimes i like being Joyce, when she's not all clammed up and going to burst. i feel like typing randomly on a typewriter, hearing its tic-tacs and watching plain white paper turning out like this:

2132faganiet3qifneioaefni4qgrmot4topgniroasu549
#@(o)nfe)r_fneoMOASETGNAOPEJRWPEFGJOPERTJ40PAJ0EGNOVPER

i should start trying cigars, maybe my brain will turn out more damaged and dead and maybe fogged with unrinsable smoke/soot/charcoal.

copyright nonsense.

i imagine someone not knowing what to write to me in front of the computer and i laugh. because i'm having the same symptoms now, my communication skills are on a breakdown. afterall, we're all supposed to be robots, knowing the right stuff to ask, knowing to correct words to say. we ought to know how to please, how to smile at right times. we know how to tease, how to flirt just to get a little something extra. how complicated the human mind works, how efficiently and effectively it applies to the body. how differently your soul reacts is just another concept, almost ignorable and neglectable. afterall there's no need for emotions and feelings. we're all just robots.

"they're just robots" - quote hui.

sheesh

i hate the word hope.
it's a useless word anyway.
and being useless is not encouraging at all.

hi

hi, have you met death's friend - torture (torment)?

death met love by a bed.
she was smiling whilst death watched.
so death played a trick, her favourite mis-chief.

i'm all over the place

the depths of the heart is bottomless
while the widths of the mind is complicated and haywired.

the many ways one communicates in love.
without your hands, you have your lips
without your eyes, you have your hands
without your lips, you have your hands

inspired by the word "hellsing"

let hell sing its melody of cries and screams
an open welcome to its new age queen
an era begins, a quiet tease for eons and eons
let blood trickle, let blood drip
there's no rush for pain, pride and plague
blood, gore and honour, bid my wish.

the battle between hounds and werecats
the queen wishes to sleep somemore
so bring your fight somewhere else
make a mess, bless the crowd

hounds, blood; gore and honour, drink my blood.

how dirty the body works

blood waited for her orders
while gore watched her every move
honour turned away for he was never one to beg for his master's love
but in fact, fay loved him the most
his stride was one of stature, she would have loved to cuddle
however the others would be jealous so she refrained much from doing so
so honour was mistaken, he would have liked his master's love

blogger ate my work. this is what i could remember of it.

let me have you he said
she didn't know what to think
she didn't know what to say
all she knew she had his attention it felt good to be important and top of the world but you see this wont last my dear
screams infinity
so she was numb, so she needed a friend
so she needed comfort, so she needed assurance
it didn't matter who she was
as long as she could get a little attention
she breathed she wanted more a little more
till she was completely numb to shun away pain

script trigger

i imagine myself saying to an eighteen year old boy, "would it help if i adopted you now?"

imagine what he would say
"it would be like a whole new life again"
"i've lost my childhood, would this be any different"
"i dont want to be adopted, i want to marry you"

my scripts are turning crazy. i ought to sleep

hate

she loved little miss red
a naive little girl to sit by the stands to wait
she wanted love to come away with her
to join in the fun of shouting away

plastic

search for me amongst the factory of toys, you might find me there. all plastic and ready make to serve your biddings.

brainsss. eat my brainsss.

sorry, i'm too busy gorging hearts out and eating flesh to entertain you with my brainsss.

fay met her first hound while she threaded the hill of death.
fay met her second hound as she swam amongst the massacre of war.
lastly, fay met her third hound by the old oak tree.
blood, gore, honour, they worshipped her like a god.

why have children, when they are not to be manipulated and controlled?
isn't that what everyone wants, a miniature them, to fulfill unfinished goals and dreams. like all villians, they want to take over the world, do their bidding, my master. that's right, make them fulfill your dreams, your everything. go ahead, make everyone miserable.

come play with me, blood gore and honour

and blood shall start to shatter like broken pieces of clay
and how air freezes in mid-breath
when beasts start to come out and play.

broken eyes and black punches

she was already so broken when he met her
how was he going to fix her
how was he going to save her
meltdown and shaken, alternate universes

give me that black punch filled with your poison and love
drink it up drink it up they say
bosom and blossom, fay got drunk
even jokers have their share of dumps.

plot trigger I

why wont you let me in, he asked
i dont want to, she said
why wont you let me in, she asked
i dont want to, she said
then at least let me stay, he requested
then at least let me stay, she pleaded
i'll leave if you stay, she said

what he heard and what he pictured

life is beautiful > running through my head, thoughts of mine & others says:
a little boy looking for something through dark & endless halls with many doors
paper-thin and silk-like traces says:
BEAAAAAAUTIFUL
life is beautiful > running through my head, thoughts of mine & others says:
seems a fitting song for its mood
life is beautiful > running through my head, thoughts of mine & others says:
heh heh heh
life is beautiful > running through my head, thoughts of mine & others says:
mystic with a touch of absence

picturing a boy running on a hill, a red balloon
stumbles upon a ruined castle

phrase two (lyrics)
he's running through those endless halls

copyright to shaoxiang

eat hearts

forgive me for i do not care
i'm willing to break hearts to feel alive

like ballerinas dancing in their little untreated pine boxes
stepping those piano keys

when even tears hate your eyes

drink from the glass which water rejects you as a consumer

drawing out of we have a map of the piano

like a normal day where one comes out from the car
she bumps him on the shoulder
they both go their own ways

phrase two
the city revolves around these two
these two revolve around the city
work eats their minds
prayer does no good

phrase three where the lyrics come in
they meet, their eyes recognize their own dead souls
they give a little bow and a curtsey respectively
they go their own ways

phrase four
it's like playing a puzzle game
word play, an hour glass, hide and seek
time plays with them
they play with time
unintentional
yet so contradicting

phrase five
feels like a merry go round
where you try to give chase but you know it's a cycle and you'll never be able to catch

reconnecting in 2:23

overload of dreams
bang.

close to you

i feel that i dont need anyone anymore
just people who surround and respond to you
that's the basic relationship i need.
if i do need someone close,
then it's not going to be you
for sometimes i feel trapped when i'm with you.

so whistle your thistle

thistle
whistle
whisper
flute

this empty hollow grin

how does it feel to be not wanted?
secretly i'm happy i'm out of this web
it's a empty empty hollow echo feeling
but it seems like it's just what i need

to my vincent valentine

one day you'll be sick and tired of me
because you're the only one giving
would you be leaving as well?

what follie mollie said

follie and mollie sat on a dolly
orange and black
sad sad sad
i want to admit myself into a mental hospital now

huh

is it important to know who i am
and who i should be?
i dont know
what's the reason for this cause anyway.

ah, conclusions

perhaps secretly i am a perfectionist
when it comes to friendship
but i keep disregarding/ignoring/avoiding/forgetting the human mind and its complications
thus i hurt people and in turn people hurt me
the cycle of pain, it seems that i like it alot. i'm quite a sadist.

what i expect of you

i expect you to be broken now
empty now
feeling like you're dying
if you're feeling neither of these symptoms
you must be a stronger person than i am
or perhaps we were never really that close anyway
it's really easy to give up if we were just touch and go friends
hi and bye, gone.
but still, we met
the end.

i'll name my books
1. the infinity series
2. straitjacket dreams
3. what she said

straitjacket means

the first time she got a straitjacket, it was for fetish purposes.
she looked over at valentine and decided it was time for fun.
the straitjacket was for her to stop cutting her fingers, slitting her wrists for random boredom. it was to stop her from feeling so dead and imagine herself to be a mad person for the acknowledgement that she was mad would mean that she knew something about herself. it was to stop herself from feeling so hollow and not even know who the person she was, seeking emptiness/the vacuum out of air itself.

notes in your pencilcases
paper seek, paper slip
laces on your chest
silk down your thigh

in and out, black and white

i know it's abit too old to play games, but i still need someone to play hide and seek with me.

flight awaiting

hey n, it happened just like that too. between me and ford, yes assumptions may have led to conclusions and delusions. but what i feel, how i sense, they all belong to me. clear this up and i'm packing off.

write a story Joyce, write a story out of this

and to avoid disappointment, i try not to anticipate
i try not to hope, not to wish, not to want
not to need, not to crave, not to love
then finally not to live

cause you're everywhere to me

a lizard and a tank of fishes as her audience
she danced the night away alone

fay missed lou dearly
fay would have liked lou to watch her by the side

ha!

amuse
a muse
black flight
black death

madhouse dreams

she woke up startled (bright blue eyes amist white) (bright blue eyes amist grey, amidst the others who just started their morning activities) dont be afraid my baby lou lou skip to my lou lou lou skip to my lou skip to my lou my darling she slaughtered the madhouse that night and skipped around on a full moon night.

she was sent away to the madhouse as a child for they had nowhere else to turn to. she lived she grew with all the people there and one fine morning where the crows and ravens picked their choice from the ground, she ran like a bride out of a cathedral.

she was wronged for her quiet ways led them to think she was an exile, a witch, an outcast. hayhair and blue eyes, black hair black eyes, black hair green eyes.

soups and garnishes

misery as an ingredient
it should be in every cook's cookbook

my many thanks

sorry steph, it's a sunday and i've nothing better to do but to feed off on your misery. it makes me feel better as well that i'm not alone.

an unforgiven romance

awaken the princess
for it's time to feed on her blood

i would like (to have) some play things to dump
unfortunately humans are not play things
once attached, they cling on to you like parasites
i should know it better myself
those play things i want are perhaps as numb as me
need and want in synchro, optional stay and go

trace of Mother
the way she digs my ear edge
purr with comfort

happy people in a round-about world?

i dont like to deal with glum
i want all of you to be positive
but nobody thinks like you, they say
just one, please let him stay
then you would ask for more, they say
that's the way how humans work
if i dont give him to you
you'll just be wanting one, no more than that
so forever stay that way, they say
and left me be with my lonely ever after

joker

death kissed her on the fingers
but she merely stared forward
oh yes, he gave himself a grin
boo so says the queen

straitjacket dreams

she outlined her eyes with a black pencil
at that moment, she would like to outline herself
strip herself naked, bare herself to the ghosts of her house
tilt her head, hands up, surrender to the mirror
black mercy, veil over her eyes
she would have liked a shave on the head
crop, crew, cut, screw

taste lust desire in the air for blood

it was the sweet scent of death that lured her to speak
it was the sweet scent of death that hung in the air
for once she had dealt with such blood dyed atmosphere
too long ago, the present being sweet silence she could almost taste the air
in a battle fought hard, a war torn cry from child driven mad
indeed what makes the heart fonder is time
she'll beat herself up for guilt later for thy comrade's blood

n's blog

there once lived a little girl in the place where skies were grey and the grass was blue.
she loved flowers.
but some flowers prickled her fingers.
she really didnt like it when her fingers bled.
they bled and they were never properly healed.
one day, she found some buttons.
she then started to collect buttons.
she thought buttons were the best.
but guess what. buttons have holes too. they couldnt heal her wounds.




den she rot and died.
-

life is so rotten.
i hate school.
i hate everything else too i guess.

it feels like, fuck.

. PurPle

green eyes and hay hair

give me something wild to hold on to
so that i know i'm not alone

oh, save the queen!

there's no need to disappoint the queen

on total shutdown

on auto-pilot

(from your point of view, n)
and she was sitting there, right in front of the computer screen
head bowed down, body slouched and she was not responding to my questions
she was on total shutdown and she's not coming back
it was then i realised in that dark house she had never wanted me around

a mechanical doll

sing your screams

... and stop your symphonies

this is me, she screamed when she needed him
this is me, she wept, wanting to be left alone
this is me, she simply said and then she's gone

this is me, he whispered as he took her in an embrace
this is me, he whispered as he turned his head
this is me, he whispered as he watched her leave

your demand is my command

throw the towel in, my dear

i suppose you're right to give me up.
you were right afterall

an (grey) affair

allure

in the cell, beasts they crawl

passion in a cell
no chains, no binds, no stopping them
like beasts they eyed the other straight in the face
like beasts, mere instinct, they shared a kiss

who knew the world to be so unforgiving
so cruel
who knew their sins
their loneliness
their fear
their rights
their wrongs

claw the wall raw

i realise i dont tell much about myself
i ask questions, i expect answers
they ask questions, i divert my answers
do i feel lonely? i've no idea.
perhaps i'm not sure
perhaps i dont want them to know me
for fear i might not gain but to lose a bit more of myself

your high strung tenor cod

have you dwelled in sadness for too long?
dont you miss her since she's gone?
killed in action, they say
she was slain by a sword!

that tenor in your throat, i wish to pull those strings, rip them bleed

and she tried very hard to fight in all her battles
in hope to get killed in action, so that no one will miss her
they wouldn't have to blame themselves for she was useless

but how selfish she was
she didn't realize they would indeed blame themselves
for lack of judgement, for not protecting her
then she would be gone, in time she would be forgotten
even her existence would be fogged

inspired by your average fairytale by hikaru_a

fay's tear

and from her eye slid a pearl
how precious thee eyes are

goodbye

if your infinity is my affinity
on what base would it prove eternity
yet to live on with sympathy
woe be me, let me have my own pity-party
she said her goodbyes
and he's withering
he's left with nothing
no place to go
nowhere, lost, fallen

he had never let anyone close except her
so when she was gone
he was left in that empty castle
withering
withering
withering
so cold he sat like a statue
so still he deceived time
a single frame to last eternity

sheesh?

why do they keep teeth as ornaments?

affectionate

a cat was naive enough to follow me downstairs
where i left it confused and betrayed.
(you're too affectionate, you remind me of myself)
that's what i think it felt.

i thought, hey maybe i could keep it
but it wasn't black, and i wasn't fay.
not yet, not yet.

then i thought, hey fay's getting tired of all the weird stuff
a werecat's something she would have known she would see
what would surprise her, the affections of a simple cat
that seem to follow her despite her attempts to dismiss it
it would toy with her toes, a nip here and there
she would get annoyed, the joker annoyed?

fay met a boy by the marketplace where they sold apples bright and red
what's your name, she asked out of nowhere
lou, he said
you dont look like a lou, in fact you're a grey,
she looked at her cat nonchalently
his eyes shot open as she approached to ruffle his hair
bid him with a small smile, she led him to the hill
as evening approaches she nursed him back to health

oh lisa!

eventually infinity

infinity is for a long time
if one reeks of immortality yet he lives for one who has said her goodbyes
what else is there for you to live for
instead you would end up like him, the riddler points to her newly appointed pet whom she had held captive against a tree by vines and roots. valentine said nothing, head bowed down.
lou thought it was all wrong
infinity wasn't like that
what should i give to have you set the man free
ah! self sacrifice from a human, nonetheless how noble! the riddler smirked
stun me with an answer to unlock my riddle said the riddler