Friday, December 28, 2012

The Nevermind Boy

To just let things fall into place and just let love, life and happiness find it's rightful course.
To just go with the flow and enjoy the ride.
And to not mind things that don't matter anymore.

Yep. The Nevermind Boy will be on the loose this 2013.

Sunday, December 23, 2012

Ends and Endings

There are many kinds of endings. There are those with literally earth-shattering exclamations, moving and rearranging mountains with great frenzy and wave upon wave of sea crashing unto every bit of human civilization.

There are also the quiet types. Those with solid, sordid and solemn periods enveloping existence with eerie silence. Silence is scary. It connotes tips of icebergs hiding what's underneath with a veil of false serenity.

But there are also the commas. The endings of novel trilogies. And while the author contemplates the grand finale, the characters lie still in the cupboards, also contemplating the pseudo-life they just had.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

How to Make Mayhem

The sky is the first thing that I take note of when I begin writing something. It's a serious cliche but it gives me the excuse to mix and mingle words to get me in the mood. For example, "The sky is a blue canvas splattered by milky bits of clouds", would generally mean that I'm on my poet mode and I'm also probably hungry which would explain the "milky bits" which would mean that I'm craving for marshmallow. Make sense? Also, it takes care of my length problems. Like right now, one whole paragraph just got constructed. 

Sometimes when I don't think of the sky because I'm somewhere without a view, I'd either lie or describe the coffee I just had or begin a post with earth-shattering thoughts (e.g. pencil marks and shavings , coffee stains, doughnuts-anything that catches my fancy is generally of earth-shattering importance). If you've been reading me for quite some time now, you'd realize that most of my most-read posts are those that involve none of the things that I've just describe. So yeah. This paragraph is basically crap which would perfectly describe most of my second paragraphs where "the block" happens.

Of course, after introductions, the flesh of most stories usually begin in, three, four or five paragraphs (not generally speaking, mind you) but in my blog, most of the flesh happens in two or three, which would reflect the difficulty I have in building lengthy stories and lengthy third paragraphs. 

The conclusion is usually my forte and I end my blog posts with pound for pound realizations, questions, even more realizations, moral lessons (like to never ever cook food when you're incapable of doing so or risk killing the relatives which you'd probably still do anyway), more randomness, blabbers and the like or sometimes I just end posts out of nowhere. I'm lazy like that.

Sunday, December 9, 2012

Battles and Boxing Bouts

There will always be that one great loss that will scar your insides more than any form of cancer. It is the unrequited love inside you. It is the pain of getting left behind. It is the embers of that emotion that dries up your thoughts, wells your eyes and burns you inside. Death could have been sweeter.

And while the world mourns over a fighter's loss, you contemplate on your personal battles and the many loses you've made along the way. It is a game; everything is. "Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose". But what's important is that we learn to stand up after every fall and face the crowd unscathed, unburdened but very much enlightened.

Regrets, they may be many, but there will always be that second chance to prove yourself worthy of the title, worthy of the ring. Fight. Go. Win. Life is not a domino. One downfall won't mean the next day's doomed.

Friday, December 7, 2012

Post No. 204

Something is wrong with me. Emptiness. The emptiness that gulfs me is continually crashed by the waves of life, carving it bigger and bigger that the void is sucking me inside.

I am passing through life, unseen and unperceived. My absence will not make it sad. My presence won't spark jovial celebrations. My handwriting is chicken shit; reflection of what I am, what I feel, what I see.

Borderline psychosis. Depression. And a bulging tummy. Demn.

Sunday, December 2, 2012


Wow. To be honest, I actually thought that I'd be having my third year anniversary tomorrow. Haha.

And since I am in the utmost state of unpreparedness (promise, I was gonna do a post of my favorite posts the past year) I'm just gonna thank the 55 dearly beloved followers I have. You have increased! Yay me. The humble 11341 page views (as of today). And of course to everybody who have read, will read, and will continue to read my blabberings, thank you all so much! You have made me happy :D

Cheers to another year! Cheers to more goodness and creativity! Cheers to life!

Saturday, December 1, 2012

Never Yours

A poem wriggles with the wind.
Its verses tangled with the malevolent waves of zephyr as it travels the earth.
Yet with all this expression, I'm never yours.

A song travels the desert;
an oasis shimmers and sprouts with every lyric that touches the ground.
Yet with all this reverberation, I'm never yours.

A painter colors the sky.
Shades of magenta and cyan splatter every bit of cloud and expanse.
Yet despite the kaleidoscope, I'm never yours.

I am a painter. A poet. And a songstress.
Yet despite who I am, I'm never yours.
viii:Tracy Chapman's Never Yours

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