Alone, dragging his torched feet through the scorching infernos: the one man exodus. As if sin casted a plague on him. Seems like the stairway of heaven is missing a step. A blind turn into such abyssal fate. And the fall. It was not a shallow one. It was not a shallow one... I begin to close my eyes, but I kept falling and falling... and falling. It just kept hitting me. Over and over again. As if a gauntlet made of frozen tears broke through my sternum, followed by countless endeavors to tear out my shattered-bone pierced heart. I try to struggle by resisting its pull, but my body lay helpless to its inflictor. A dark smirk underneath the shadows of the hood mock me as I relentlessly try to savage my soul that held the memories of the one I love.
Maybe I won't understand my venting in the future, so I guess I’ll help myself later on by making it clearer now. At least the last part. I guess I can say I’m jealous... actually, I am. Who am I jealous of? Those who've got what they don't realize they have. It seems like our lives are the lucky pair to be selected in being made difficult. But wait, I’m being a hypocrite. let's take a step back to open up our eyes once more, and we'll see that we still have each other and new obstacles that yield creative ways around it (and surprises that come with it). Despite this, I’ve lost the ability that I envy in others who may freely act. That is to say, hug. I see it all around. Though I dearly want to, if it weren't for these self imposed fetters binding me back. It is my respect and honor that strip the pleasures in my life, imprisoning my heart behind these jail-like ribs.
Puzzles aren't solved. Their mysteries remain a secret until the right person comes around and understands it.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Sunday, May 4, 2008
A Brand New Light
Albert Einstein once said "in the middle of difficulty lies opportunity." well, seeing as how prom's rolling in, and I’m no longer attending, I will try to find such opportunity. Thinking about it, I’ve developed and cherished this new personal connotation of "prom" in a different light. This year, "prom" symbolizes any moment when I get to spend time with the one I love. I guess it is inescapable to say now that prom will come one day early for me. :)
Friday, May 2, 2008
Oasis
It was only an oasis. Such a false illusion was short lived. Why must such tears dry so soon? When will this drought be spared and replenish with the reviving rain? We’ll soon see.
Despite our kismet. The foreseen future. Everything will be okay. My intentions shouldn't be glossed over as seemingly hastily thought over though. It was not an act chosen out of the blue. On the outside, it seems like a purely instinctive act. Even though I know the probability of a positive response, my reason for even acting so subsumes the desire to make new cherishing memories. I even predicted the manner in which the response was to be given. I even thought about how the other side would be thinking. My act would be viewed as plain stupid because it's idiotic to keep asking, keep striving, especially when pushing the limits of irrationality. Yes, I admit love makes us all do such a silly thing, seeing as how I even dared going through with such a headstrong thing. It’s okay though. What remains, I don't regret. What I’ve done, I don't regret. It’s only the things that can't be achieved or hesitated and never followed through with, that I do regret.
1.
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4.
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6.
7.
8.
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10.
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13.
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19.
Thinking back on it, it may seem like I’ve given a lot. But in retrospect, for the coming few years, it will probably seem like I haven't given enough. All these little gifts exchanged between the two of us. On a similar note, least that's how I always thought about pictures. After looking through a countless number of times through a photo album, don't you wish you could go back in time and take more? As if you would want to capture every single precious moment in a picture or video? Of course. but I would not like to go into that extreme because then it would impede our natural lives; we wouldn't be appreciating the moment we're living in. but I guess there's always that want for more pictures that will forever decorate our memories.
Despite our kismet. The foreseen future. Everything will be okay. My intentions shouldn't be glossed over as seemingly hastily thought over though. It was not an act chosen out of the blue. On the outside, it seems like a purely instinctive act. Even though I know the probability of a positive response, my reason for even acting so subsumes the desire to make new cherishing memories. I even predicted the manner in which the response was to be given. I even thought about how the other side would be thinking. My act would be viewed as plain stupid because it's idiotic to keep asking, keep striving, especially when pushing the limits of irrationality. Yes, I admit love makes us all do such a silly thing, seeing as how I even dared going through with such a headstrong thing. It’s okay though. What remains, I don't regret. What I’ve done, I don't regret. It’s only the things that can't be achieved or hesitated and never followed through with, that I do regret.
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
Thinking back on it, it may seem like I’ve given a lot. But in retrospect, for the coming few years, it will probably seem like I haven't given enough. All these little gifts exchanged between the two of us. On a similar note, least that's how I always thought about pictures. After looking through a countless number of times through a photo album, don't you wish you could go back in time and take more? As if you would want to capture every single precious moment in a picture or video? Of course. but I would not like to go into that extreme because then it would impede our natural lives; we wouldn't be appreciating the moment we're living in. but I guess there's always that want for more pictures that will forever decorate our memories.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
In the Mist of Bitter Resentment
A ranting or thanking entry? I don't have much of the latter though I should. But I don't think that this is going to be one of those happy entries. I wish it was. After all, to whoever may be reading this or chance over this while browsing about blogs... I guess I have your ears and understanding for now. Least when my mind is a bit ready and cleared up to make up semi-coherent thoughts, which you may denounce for all I care. Like a victim. It’s all the same.
When time seems so far away and slowly approaching... you realize a bit too late that this wave is no ordinary tide, but a tsunami approaching you at 521 knots. In a blink of an eye, you get hit by realization and washed into bittersweet disorder, twirling and tumbling in its drowning grasp. Without even a moment to embrace such hasted chaos, your mind returns into a state of oblivion. Blank. Empty. Nothing. A forsaken paradise, where your momentary stay is disturbed and corrupted by the cleansing substance constantly eroding our tainted selves. Rocks and rumbles, tears and cries, trying to wake you up. But being pushed by the force of water, you freely fly for once not against the current but with, and crashing through, destitute of soul and spirit... till the waves calm down. You wash up onto a barren wasteland, where once lie a glorious civilization, but now just a graveyard of disbanded homes and forgotten memories. Or were these memories ever forgotten or forcefully secluded from minds? The surrounding stench with lost hopes and eerie uncertainty of the future. So seems the perfect place to end such a juggernaut of a collision. What hope remains in such a place lacking even life? You look towards the skies. You start to close your eyes... flashbacks of every single happy memories flicker like a malfunctioned slide projector within your mind as your eyelids slowly fall once last time. Millimeters before they fully shut, you stop. But why? A tear fallen out of your eyes and dropped upon to a nearby pool of water, resting calmly besides you. Your time has not come yet; your inner voice yearns for life. But how is there still hope? Succumbing to conscience, you awake as if from a dreaded sleep, enlightened under the embracing wings of the clouded skies. Though torn and broken, you manage to pull yourself up. Your head follows your body's ascension. What hope is left in such a destructive world? Your neck starts to loosen its gripping tension. Where can I find it? Your eyes begin to open as if time has reversed. What I am to do? Your body recoils as if jolt of current rushed through your hurricane-stricken mind. Your eyes glaring into space. Your last gasp for air has been revived, as if being granted one last chance. Slowly, your eyes walk down these steps of seeming emptiness to the ground, where you rest. A puddle of water. That’s it! Water! Hope remains within such holy substance. After all, water composites the essence of pure hope. Life around me will begin to restore, just as I will resume sailing life's unexpected journey.
When time seems so far away and slowly approaching... you realize a bit too late that this wave is no ordinary tide, but a tsunami approaching you at 521 knots. In a blink of an eye, you get hit by realization and washed into bittersweet disorder, twirling and tumbling in its drowning grasp. Without even a moment to embrace such hasted chaos, your mind returns into a state of oblivion. Blank. Empty. Nothing. A forsaken paradise, where your momentary stay is disturbed and corrupted by the cleansing substance constantly eroding our tainted selves. Rocks and rumbles, tears and cries, trying to wake you up. But being pushed by the force of water, you freely fly for once not against the current but with, and crashing through, destitute of soul and spirit... till the waves calm down. You wash up onto a barren wasteland, where once lie a glorious civilization, but now just a graveyard of disbanded homes and forgotten memories. Or were these memories ever forgotten or forcefully secluded from minds? The surrounding stench with lost hopes and eerie uncertainty of the future. So seems the perfect place to end such a juggernaut of a collision. What hope remains in such a place lacking even life? You look towards the skies. You start to close your eyes... flashbacks of every single happy memories flicker like a malfunctioned slide projector within your mind as your eyelids slowly fall once last time. Millimeters before they fully shut, you stop. But why? A tear fallen out of your eyes and dropped upon to a nearby pool of water, resting calmly besides you. Your time has not come yet; your inner voice yearns for life. But how is there still hope? Succumbing to conscience, you awake as if from a dreaded sleep, enlightened under the embracing wings of the clouded skies. Though torn and broken, you manage to pull yourself up. Your head follows your body's ascension. What hope is left in such a destructive world? Your neck starts to loosen its gripping tension. Where can I find it? Your eyes begin to open as if time has reversed. What I am to do? Your body recoils as if jolt of current rushed through your hurricane-stricken mind. Your eyes glaring into space. Your last gasp for air has been revived, as if being granted one last chance. Slowly, your eyes walk down these steps of seeming emptiness to the ground, where you rest. A puddle of water. That’s it! Water! Hope remains within such holy substance. After all, water composites the essence of pure hope. Life around me will begin to restore, just as I will resume sailing life's unexpected journey.
School: A Bush-Like Administration
We, the class of 2008, are the class that gets shafted by the administration. What is this shit? I guess it started when our school decided to add academic patches during the end of my middle school years, whereas the athletic patches came out a long time ago. Therefore, my sleeves look so uneven and may even give the impress that I’m not smart because of such an evident contrast.
As for high school, our annual graduation isn’t even going to take place where it’s traditionally taken place. Their compensation is to "fancy" the school up during our graduation and using their excuse for everything, "we’re making school history." but what about the traditionally values, in which we’ve grown up in such a "home away from home?"
We are also required to take an extremely boring course called ethics, where the underclassmen are now no longer required to take... seriously; everyone falls asleep at least once in this class. Ethics: even teachers host in class sleeping.
Then, there's the construction. Sure, the pool finished early, but the new diving blocks tear up our feet. On top of that, the Wednesday open pool policy has taken an abrupt turn right before AP week. I believe they should keep it open, so the pool serves as a stress reliever. Next, the loud ruckus next to this one building, where construction drilling is heard every day. We are going to school in the midst of a sandstorm. We don't even get the science building till next year, but we would have already graduated!
Senior gift? Our parents’ provide private donations just so the administrators can manipulate our decision to provide something that’s beneficial to the school?
This reminds me. The two lunches. How are we supposed to achieve "class/student body unity" when we're divided because of the school's poor engineering/architectural "developments."
Senior prank? There is essentially none or is considered rather a mere facade for "setting a new trend." I still say we jack all the clocks and Rick Roll’d the school.
Why do next year seniors no longer need to take finals. That’s messed up. They don’t even have first semester finals. This is completely unfair to us.
More to come as the school's one promise to shaft our class is the only proposal that is evidently true and concurred with.
As for high school, our annual graduation isn’t even going to take place where it’s traditionally taken place. Their compensation is to "fancy" the school up during our graduation and using their excuse for everything, "we’re making school history." but what about the traditionally values, in which we’ve grown up in such a "home away from home?"
We are also required to take an extremely boring course called ethics, where the underclassmen are now no longer required to take... seriously; everyone falls asleep at least once in this class. Ethics: even teachers host in class sleeping.
Then, there's the construction. Sure, the pool finished early, but the new diving blocks tear up our feet. On top of that, the Wednesday open pool policy has taken an abrupt turn right before AP week. I believe they should keep it open, so the pool serves as a stress reliever. Next, the loud ruckus next to this one building, where construction drilling is heard every day. We are going to school in the midst of a sandstorm. We don't even get the science building till next year, but we would have already graduated!
Senior gift? Our parents’ provide private donations just so the administrators can manipulate our decision to provide something that’s beneficial to the school?
This reminds me. The two lunches. How are we supposed to achieve "class/student body unity" when we're divided because of the school's poor engineering/architectural "developments."
Senior prank? There is essentially none or is considered rather a mere facade for "setting a new trend." I still say we jack all the clocks and Rick Roll’d the school.
Why do next year seniors no longer need to take finals. That’s messed up. They don’t even have first semester finals. This is completely unfair to us.
More to come as the school's one promise to shaft our class is the only proposal that is evidently true and concurred with.
Monday, April 28, 2008
The Last Speech
Or is it...
It true that our roads end at this point of time during our senior year, but in turn, paves a new road, where our lives begin to branch out. I guess it was motivational to people who haven't yet opened their minds and eyes. But in the end of this part of the journey, I would like to reflect on my high school years. I’m glad that I’ve met her and got to learn about her during these years. She, who has become one of the most important people in my life. All my posts mention no names... but the name is there.
It true that our roads end at this point of time during our senior year, but in turn, paves a new road, where our lives begin to branch out. I guess it was motivational to people who haven't yet opened their minds and eyes. But in the end of this part of the journey, I would like to reflect on my high school years. I’m glad that I’ve met her and got to learn about her during these years. She, who has become one of the most important people in my life. All my posts mention no names... but the name is there.
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