Hugh Grant is my 'somethings'

That's just it really. I have absolutely nothing to look forward to. 'Nothing' in a sense of 'something that can cheer me up'. You always need these 'somethings'. It's the only way anybody can ever be happy or content, at least. An ingrate I am but really, aren't we all? Ingrates?

Okay, that's rather off topic here. Back to my need of a 'something' to look forward to.

Why? Because there's too much important academic things to bother with and not a speck of pleasurable 'somethings' to distract myself for the 'in betweens'. These 'in betweens' are important so that I don't get stuck in a rut and take to writing 50 poems daily and wallow in my shallow misery brought forth by my self concocted boilings of boredom and stress.

I'm a piece of work. I've this irrepressible need to inject significance into my all too dull life by working up these wild notions of how humanity is in a decrepit state and that by writing soppy rhymes (I dare not call them poems) I'm able to somehow soothe my so called 'tortured' soul. I just like the idea. Isn't it romantic? We're all hypocrites anyway. It shouldn't matter too much.

So, I invented one, a 'something' for me to indulge in. That is, Hugh Grant. This is random and all but yeah. I've taken to watching his movies and is currently spectacularly smitten by him. Crow's feet and all, I think he's beautiful that way. I adore his dry wit. And his accent! He can utter such unpeakables and make them sound absolutely endearing. "A cynical, self loathing cad, an anti-movie star." That's what the media describes him as. *smiles*

It's funny that I keep falling for half-century old actors like Keanu and Hugh. Haha, I don't know what to say. I think I should stop here. Any further and this will turn into a gushing fest. Aye, it would. I'd write about how they're 'tortured souls' with a mask for the media when they actually do, care for the 'suffering humanity'.

Hahahaha....ahhh, I'm such a pariah.

And before I forget:

www.puddle-of-ink.blogspot.com

Do visit. Me and an acquaintance of mine, mai mai , we're collaborating on this project thing. We wish to compile short stories and, my uh, rhymes. What for? I scarcely know myself. Ask mai, it's her idea. I'm just delighted to have something to do. Haha.

From now on, I'll be posting my, well, pieces there. I'm rubbish really but it'll kill me if I don't write anything.

P.S: Jeez every single syllable of this post is saucy. *sigh*

Nope

Hullo.

This is wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. I can't keep snatching up papers and write shit for no particular reason. Nope. I most certainly can't afford to let myself just, just, get carried away, like whooosh like that! Not now anyway.

Because you see, I mostly write when I'm miserable. Or when there's something I find to be utterly beautiful, or simply put, putrid. I just feel like putting them into words where I can see them, examine them and all that. You know?

The time will come when you know that you can't trust your own wretched thoughts due to some, circumstances shall we say? Yes, circumstances. It has always been that way but when the realization hits you, it's a whole different story altogether.

Haha. That's enough, that's enough, now. Right.

The Blind & The Heartless

Let's take a ride said her,

And I knew rain would fall,

Ok I told her and smiled,

We knew this was better.

Let's talk she whispered,

And I knew promises would break,

Sure I replied and sighed,

We knew this was over.

Between the lines,

The unspoken words lay,

Beneath our chests,

It wasn't love that lay.

She was my eyes,

I was her heart,

Blinded and thoughtless,

It tore us apart.

Goodbye Love she said,

Goodbye Sight I cried,

Heartless she is,

Sightless I was, I am.

Never again would I see her,

Never again would she love anybody,

The closer we were,

The further our hearts wonder.

Thus the heavens cry her tears,

And the sun witnessed my love,

We were one no more,

Alone forever more.

_________________________________________________

Song of the month:

Don't Look Back In Anger - Oasis

It's A Small Word

The Prick in my head

My world is small. It is. I think I need new people, but I don't want any, not really and that's the problem.

Or is it really? A problem, I mean. If I make it 'not' a problem, it'll go away since it's not a global scale crisis such as famine or poverty. I'm complicating something that is simple, heck, effortless to some. I should just reach out shouldn't I? To Socialize. That accursed act of mingling with people, on purpose. But that's kinda difficult when you don't really want to.

See? I'm walking in circles. It all goes back to me being an anti-social freak. I reassure myself. 'It's okay' says the stunted 'he' that is the voice in my head. No, I'm not mental. Please, everybody talks to themselves. And yes, my conscience is a dude who is an extremely disagreeable,stubborn, confused, greedy and lazy prick. Oh, the only positive attribute he has is that, sometimes he materialize in the spitting image of Keanu Reeves. ...Okay, maybe, like the rest of you people out there, I AM semi-mental. Jeez.

My brother says it's okay too. He said I shouldn't have to make myself want to 'mingle', that I should just be nice to people, especially my parents. And I love him for that :)

Still, when you live in a small world, the inhabitants of your kingdom have their own lives. They're my universe when I'm not theirs. It gets cold and lonely at times.

Me and my contradictions. Which I know is normal. Which I know everybody has. There he goes again. That disagreeable prick in my head. He's telling me to "shut up and grow up", when he has not change a bit since we were 13.

The Prick: You should get that Assassin's Creed game. I need it.

...just shut up, prick.

Confessions Of An Honestly Brooding Heart

Love,

What is it?

If not merely a play,

On a fool's mind.

Hate,

I deem it fleeting,

As the pain of a broken limb,

Lingering yet fading.

Grateful,

I should be,

I wish I could always be,

I almost never am.

Longing,

For things I don't understand,

For a beautiful end,

That will never come true.

Always two faced,

Are the things of great significance,

I wish to contemplate,

Their volatile existence.

Thus again...

Love,

More than that of lovers,

Is those of blood bound,

Or ones of divine grace.

Hate,

Whom without love can't be,

Burning within some,

A promise of destruction.

The courage I can't muster,

To say what I want to say,

For fear of no return,

From a misleading pathway.

I've no wish of falling,

Or to tear things apart,

I've no wish of following,

All the whispers of my heart.

May light be shed onto,

The day that we all wait for,

When you, I and they merge,

Into an entity of eternal peace.

To be grateful for,

To stop longing for,

A beautiful fall,

Into an oblivion;

Of things that truly matters.

Dancing With Sanity.

She danced across the blues and landed in a puddle of orange. The tangy citrus scent pinched her nose and it made her smile. Splashes of pink burst all around her face making her giggle and topple over. Greens and indigos crept up her arms and intertwined themselves in her hair. A bolt of white and grey struck near her head and she laughed delightedly. Sally rolled over a bed of purple and she crawled towards the yellow fluffs. Aquamarine blew into her face and danced in her eyelashes. It was then, when everything turned black. Sally woke up.

She was all alone in an inky darkness that enveloped her in a tight embrace. Sally opened her mouth and tried to scream. The darkness swallowed everything except for Sally. She could only see her own body. The heavy mass of blackness suddenly lightened and turned hazy. Sally felt herself floating. She tried to scream again before she realized her mouth was no more. Instead a gaping hole shaped in a perfect circle has formed.

Sally kept floating. It was not long before she started crying. To her astonishment, her tears were multicoloured. Every single drop sparkled against the black surrounding. Sally’s tears did not fall, they floated around her like fireflies. When she reached out to her tears they scatter. Helpless she watched them fade away. A faint hissing noise started to echo, reverberating, as if bouncing against a metal container. The hiss started to multiply, it turned into a din that hurt Sally’s ears.

Scrunching her eyes shut and clamping her ears with her hands Sally curled into a ball. Folding into herself, the noise started to grew faint. Until, it was abruptly dead quiet. Sally opened her eyes only to be blinded by a whiteness that had replaced the cold dark. As her sight readjusted Sally saw the familiar flower field beneath her. The sea of colourful flowers seemed oddly frozen. Cold even. It was then that Sally realized that she had not been flying. No. She was falling. Sally smiled and closed her eyes. This time, peacefully. It was time.

Reaching For Myself

Look, I'm not disturbed or upset or anything. My muse is simply dark & uh, emo (dang I hate that word). This popped in my head and demanded itself out. So, here I am. If you must know, I was actually thinking of House & Wilson's "stupid & screwed up friendship" when this...thing (Nothing I write is worthy to be called a 'poem'. They're just a bunch of rhymes.) sneaked into my mind.

"stupid & screwed up friendship" <--- This is quoted from Wilson himself.

Don't believe me? Here: http://www.housemd-guide.com/characters/house-wilson.php

That page kinda compiles interesting quotes/dialouge snippets between House & Wilson throughout the show. Very interesting to read indeed. At least I think so. Yes, yes. I admit it. I'm suffering from HOUSE withdrawal. Sue me.

Oh yeah for those of you who don't know what a muse is. It is a source of inspiration :) If it's just trash anyway, I'd like this post to be educational at least.

REACHING FOR MYSELF

Never would I've jumped,

Into the abyss of unknown,

Had you not sound saddened,

Through the cell phone.

Never would I've risked,

Everything I hold dear,

Had you not whispered,

The nightmares you fear.

Never would I've known,

What it's like to care,

Had you not shown me,

The pain that you bear.

Never would I've thought,

To find what I've sought,

Had you not seen through,

The iron mask I've wrought.

My solace, my salvation, my damnation,

The abyss of unknown that is you,

Never would I've thought,

I'd find my true self, in you.