Far far, there's this little girl
she was praying for something to happen to her
everyday she writes words and more words
just to spit out the thoughts that keep floating inside
and she's strong when the dreams come cos' they
take her, cover her, they are all over
the reality looks far now, but don't go

How can you stay outside?
There's a beautiful mess inside
How can you stay outside?
There's a beautiful mess inside

Labels: Music, Songs

Where is the line drawn when one can safely say he knows? The human mind is as complex as it gets, the capriciousness of the human emotion notwithstanding. No amount of reasoning will change that - I believe - the essence of each person's individuality is choke-filled with experiences and the history that can never be retold with the same authenticity even should it be drawn out. It stresses me to think that the only consolation I have in perpetuating myself in this closed system is the safety web of supposedly limitless options (ergo sustainable income in the future with a standard degree) when my head gets clearer and I wonder why I'm wasting years of my life doing things I barely enjoy, let alone truly appreciate. Somehow after fuzzing about in my head there always seems to be just one conclusion: 1 more year to go, and forcefully marching on till the end so hopefully I don't live to regret by choosing convention.

Labels: Thoughts

For some reason I find myself coming back here every month to fill in the empty pages of the past (more for memory's sake than anything else) but never got down to doing. Another year flies by as I ponder about the significant events spanning the year that'll (hopefully) allow me to declare these 12 months well spent in the least, fulfilling at best. That said, I was re-opening dead tabs on my Safari web browser when I found a link to Serious Drawings. To take oneself seriously one needs the time to let go and laugh. Perhaps seriousness staves off life in itself - makes it lacklustre to the extent of wastedness. Then again conformity wraps its tangly veins around the ideals of stability (which we lavish at every opportunity, more often than not). So at the end of the day, is it really our fault that our lives end up stagnating to the humdrum stereotypes, the same shrivelled structure we distance ourselves from to make ourselves - perhaps the way we would like to see it - a little more different?

Honestly, these nebulous lines seem to be forming circles. Or is it just in my head?

Labels: Thoughts

"Certaines personnes sont incapables de saisir dans ce qu'elles contemplent ce qui en fait la vie et le souffle intrinsèques et passent une existence entière à discourir sur les hommes comme s'il s'était agi d'automates et sur les choses comme si elle n'avaient point d'âme et se résumaient à ce qui peut en être dit, au gré des inspirations subjectives."

****

"Ainsi, comment se passe la vie? Nous nous efforçons bravement, jour après jour, de tenir notre rôle dans cette comédie fantôme."

Labels: Thoughts

Let me in –

Trace the ruby constellation,
Incisions like quadrats on a
Parched land of lost horizons
Drawing the sanguine spill of warmth in
The tunnels of your underwater cave playing

Hide and seek –

The ivory towers embellishing
Livid complexions of curdled linoleum
Gentle palpitations; still they drumbeat,
Waving the anchors to my threaded hunt
Almost as if to say

I will find you –

Basking in new found glory
Clearing the channelled complexes;
The tempest is visceral,
Gone at the door connecting
Our souls in calamity, chanting

You want me –

Budge not so I bludgeon
Disregarding the yielding cracks
Of porcelain unveiling the outer shell,
Petty guardian of amaranthine vessels
Through your hollowed centre.

Bleed it out –

Blending those firecracker lights
My red ribbon cuts deep into your
Inner core where you lay, almost
As if you were waiting for me
To break you into delirium.

You have me –

Caught, dripping grace on my mains
As the door opens,
Dilating hues of your evening stars that
Kiss this blissful night goodbye, almost as if
I carved the life into you,

Yours in mine.

Labels: Compositions, Thoughts

The beginning.

We start from the chalky lines marked by the faded footsteps of our forefathers. We're lucky, so very lucky - the propitious momentum of time have chosen to bless us in tandem with science's fancy predilections for the class with the upper hand. Bestowed upon us is an inch, an inch to step ahead. A step ahead is nothing, but everything to being a step ahead of staying ahead. And so we bask in our new found glory - but hold. Don't thank the justice served by the laws of science, really. Tributes aside, we were evidently found to be noteworthy for such a benediction in the first place. Why bother running when one is already ahead?

The race.

It continues, as we trudge along the sedimentary path of assumed victory. Sluggish as we go, they inch up. We hesitate, and in our lackadaisical attempts towards progress, they inch up. Again, and again. And not before long, they will be against those rocks, towering over us like mounts of disgruntled grey pebbles (so unceremoniously uprooted from their sleepy stupors every time we kicked them.) "It could happen, perhaps. It is possible, perhaps. But seriously, who do those insignificant imbeciles think they are? Really now."

It continues, so we continue. We continue, with our freeze frames at poised angles of unabashed composure. We take the time to smile at the shutter with every step, but little did we know the secret of the race - the end will always be out of sight.

Did we stop running? Should we stop running? Are we running?

Like a herd of disoriented sheep, we are blinded by our paradoxical actions. But sheep, they know how to run. They will run wild and run free while we stay in our ring of cultural myopism. Every inch closer brings us nearer to the edge. We followed our eyes to the crash that day, safely blinded, rudely shocked.

Where are we, now?

Labels: Ramblings, Thoughts

As the off-tangent mixture of whimsical events of the day gather around in a little cloud of thought in my head, it seems to have an uncanny ability to simultaneously induce some sort of natural seretonin synthesis (or at least something to that extent). Before I proceed to somewhat shut out the rest of the world in the commencement (or bid to) of my crazymuggingschedule, I will now sleep on a happy note (:

The words the happy say
Are paltry melody
But those the silent feel
Are beautiful --
- Emily Dickinson

Labels: Thoughts