Inside a lover's mind

I have a major flaw, i love to criticize. I do it unconsciously and now i think when i die i may be remembered as someone who never had anything good to say about anyone. Sigh! 2010 resolution..... compliment people before you criticize them. Listening to John Stuart Mills' view of morality and this popped up in my head:

I miss you when you're away,

my heart aches in ways i cannot explain.

But when i get you by my side

i wish you would just die

You kiss me, so sweetly

i want your lips to wither away

You touch me, such tenderness

i hope your hands shrivel up

I can hear your heart beat

as you whisper sweet nothings

Nothing, is what i want to hear

Yes, i wish you would just die

Random thoughts of a psycho

I have been staring at my computer screen for over an hour. At the back of my mind,  ideas were floating. Most of my ideas do that and sometimes its pretty hard catching them. Anyways, i finally got a hold of this idea but it came up with a million others and i thought this was hilarious. You may not, but i'm crazy like that. The result was a cocktail of thought, a bit sour but it'll grow on you.

To crave happiness, that feeling of ecstasy

To want what others have

because ours never seems enough

Human nature is curious nature

curious because we are

and curious because i ask

what drives us to do what we do

I have lost fights i thought winning was my destiny,
waited for fate to block all but one on crossroads.
Fairy tales exist but their truths are brutal,
reading between the lines is instant death.
Uncovering secrets and wishing them dead.

 Ignorance is bliss for the stupid

then call me dense

cos i derive ecstacy from not knowing

Its so much easier that way

The irony of my situation

is the downfall of my character

For where i pay the least attention

i remember the most

A Birthday Wish

Standing in the middle of the field

waiting for the rain to come

Looking for salvation

something to cleanse my sins

I raise my head to the sky

teardrops roll down my face

What is freedom

and what is pain

I search for one

and find the other

Weighed down by all my sorrow

gasping for air

Fighting the burdens at my feet

trying to fly

Heal my broken heart

and leave my wounds

For one will maim me

the other would kill me

I feel age creep up on me

its claws try to grab me

I seek redemption

who will be my savior?

I scream to the coming rain

"liberate me from myself "

Deadly little secret

I had a little secret

so i dug up the ground

and buried it

My secret grew

grew and grew

until it was something new

This new secret was big

so huge it broke the ground

i was scared people would see

so i called a friend 

we blocked it with a tree

The next day, she was dead

I felt i killed her

so i called my sister

we buried my friend

under the tree

beside my secret

My sister tripped

on a branch from the tree

she fell and hit her head

and i left her

there beside my secret

My father saw this happen

he ran towards the tree

i thought he would grab me

so i turned to flee

but the shock caught up with him

his heart gave way

what more can i say

he fell under the tree

right beside my sister

my friend and my secret

I had a little secret

nothing sinister

so, i buried it

it grew and grew

and killed my father

my friend and my sister

The Art of karma (On a lighter note)

I grew up to the notion that if you do good to others, good will come to you. If you do bad, you will be hit with bad luck. I am not talking about the kind of bad luck you see in drama movies. I am talking about classic comedy type bad luck. Like walking on the road and getting a nice doze of cold water from a passing car. I think that's funny luck. Maybe not funny for you who got splashed, but a hell lot of funny for onlookers. 

 However, a friend was nice enough to inform me that karma is not a very reliable art. Apparently, you can get punished for something you did in your former life. Say what? I don't even remember things i did when i was one. Now we are talking about a past life. This friend of mine is of the belief that we are all recycled and no matter how much formatting is done, some viruses follow us into our next lives. 

I have a personal problem with karma; i think it never gets anything right. It either comes almost immediately, in which case its effects are little and easily gotten over. Or, it takes its time and then it overreacts with punishments that far outweigh the initial wrong doing.

I don't even want to add the part of the past life. How do i get punished for something i did in a past life. I DIED! is that not punishment enough? I think the only thing good about karma is watching people who talk too much get splashed by a passing car or stepping in poop. Sigh... just spilled a drink on myself, look what karma is doing to me and i haven't published this post yet.

A Perfect morning and the What if syndrome

I am not sure if i had been awake for a while, you know that point where you are dangling between dreamworld and reality or if i really was sleeping. I do know that the buzz from my laptop made me get up. I would not say i have a lot of friends. It is not because i am a loner or what not, it is just because i have a problem socializing. So when i do make friends, i know they are special. Anyways, he made me smile and he hit me with the bombshell: The poem he wrote during summer. It made me happy and yet sad. I haven't read something that has touched me in this way for a very long time and so, i am dedicating my perfect morning to a perfect friend. Here's our little secret shaped like a tree:

What if Syndrome.

What if i found a flower that you were so sure

If left alone for a while would blossom to something more.

What if i gazed on this flower and was consumed with an obsession

i couldn’t see how beautiful what i already had in my possession.

What if my flower vanished and left me petals of pain

Would i be selfish to ignore her, would that make me insane.

What if i was half dead and saw her looking from above.

Would that make me crazy, or I'm i just in love.

What if after all is said and done, after all my sorrows are gone.

I am still left with my worries,

of all that could be left of her

 are nothing more than memories.

Running from Norm

I am writing this peering from behind thick lens. Yes, finally got those glasses. I hope it makes me see things clearly and i am not talking about pictures and texts, i am talking about what is going on between the lines.

Two years ago, i was almost at the end of a race i was running. Do you ever get that feeling of giving up when it is so close to the end? I did not. Don't hiss yet and think i am being vain. The truth is, i did not get those feelings because it wasn't close to the end of my race AT ALL. Two years later, i have finally reached the end of my race and i have those feelings. It took me two years and did i learn anything? well, that's a different story.

Life isn't life until you have lived it and probably killed someone. Hold up! I'm not talking about murder here, i'm talking about slander, and betrayal and hurt. You know, those things we do everyday to people. WE apologize for them but in reality, what's sorry?

This was going through my head for a while, like a fly over a dustbin. I would try to swat it away but it just kept on returning. The funny thing is, every time i tried to write, it did not come out just right. It finally hit me at the beginning of a class, while the professor was setting up his projector. It felt a little raw, a little different from what i'm used to but who said old dogs don't learn new tricks.

I haven't written in a while so i may be a lil rusty, but this is what i wrote:

The Gun that Killed Me

I did not shoot the gun that killed me
I bought the gun that ended my life
loaded it with bullets that pierced me
i put the nozzle in the right position
it faced my heart and couldn't miss
i got all the details ready
but i did not shoot the gun that killed me

I changed my mind about dying
he changed my mind about dying
i gave him the gun to hold
i did not want my mind relapsing
i forgot about the gun he held
forgot about the bullets it held
i changed my mind about dying

he did not forget about dying
he changed my mind but his remained
he did not forget about the gun
about the bullets it held
he remembered the gun, and the bullets
he put the nozzle in the right position
placed it to my heart and couldn't miss

i did not shoot the gun that killed me