I don’t know. Only God knows where the story ends for me. From here, I only know where the story begins.

Time to be real. Devil, stop messing with my head. Why do I try so hard, to fear something that doesn’t mean anything. I have to stop. Devil, stop messing with my head. You ain’t see nothing yet.

Beware, get real.

Heroes, its been a long time huh.

So this is really what God wants for me. I’m in doubt still. Blame the deceitful heart, I really can’t go on. The direction I am headed for, is it disaster? Why do I feel so - No one would understand. Not one. They look at you with disapproving eyes, what, do you know what the heck is like.

God.

Change begins with me. What then is change?

Where do I go when I’m so alone?
Where do I turn when you are so close?
We try not to crash but we still collide
Tears I’ve cried, I’ll survive
I’m alive

God, why?

As you stand, before the Tsunami. Knowing your time is up. Your head would be filled with water in a moment. The last intake of air. Its funny how some people are during their final moments. Perhaps, the fear within, is not the fear of death, but its the fear of beyond death. Beyond the Tsunami, beyond everything else you’ve ever known.

The churning fear that you are going to die with all the regrets bottled up. Why, your grandchildren never knew you. Why, you continued the misunderstanding further. Why, you never wanted to talk to God because of past resentments. At this point in time, it all became clear, you regret the decision made.

As you watched the waves inching further towards you. You are reminded of the past infliction on the people around you. And it all flashbacks to the start, the moment you breathed your first breath. No one knew that the Tsnaumi would take away your last. No one. The screaming and screeching suddenly became deathly silent, how ironic.

As you gaze into the gigantic wave that would come crashing down on you in a second, you ask, would it be okay to cry now? Tears are falling freely down your face. You think, maybe its okay to believe in God now. Maybe, a miracle will take place. The dying seconds of one’s person is unbelievable, you would believe anything - you are forced to.

So, its the end. The waves hit you. Knocked out cold. You sink, amidst the others that have fallen first. The squint your eyes to see the last of the World. Was it painful? The emotions hurt more than anything. Farewell.  

I didn’t fall in love, you tripped me.

Ahhhhh, things have been horridly pleasant. If you know what I mean. I need to nurse my aching arm after a session of self-defence with my brother. Yeah. How was your week like, learning self-defence from Josey. Hehe. =] PREPARE DEVIL, I’LL KICK YOU IN YOUR BUTT, LIKE LITERALLY. =]

Its been awhile. Been awhile since everything returned to its origin. Much appreciate the calm. The calm which eventually would erupt into deathly silence next year. Nay, none can prevent it. Still we have to take chances. Chances are, we aren’t gonna make it.

I was wondering. Lying bodily in a hospital bed, brain dead. And you are up there bickering with God to give you a second chance, another shot at life, you promise to make good use of that chance. Then again, everyone regrets at the last hour, why they don’t make use of the perpetual chance that was bestowed upon them in the first place. Life is chance itself.

Thought I would do a short write-up on my one word essay that I never got to do. Its a test by the way. Seeeee youuuuuuuuu. I’m going for my GoP FIESTA. Muahhahahaha. P.S: My arm really hurts, I can’t wait to try my new learnt self-defence on SOMEONE. =]

With one hand high
You’ll show them your progress
You’ll take your time
But no one cares

My sister’s keeper. Good movie, tear jerker. I guess, it really boils down to one thing. Selfish. Us. We have moved past the season of revenge, pirating and so on. Everyone’s tired, tired of bearing hatred for one another. I mean, what, “I kill you cause you kill my ancestors?” Naw, we are all weary, now we have only have enough strength to fend for ourselves.

Look at our current state now. A fat person takes comfort that there exist a fattest person. So, the fattest person look towards the ugliest person saying “Hey, I might be the fattest but I’m sure not as bad as the ugliest person in the World” Then the ugliest person? Compare themselves to the dead? So ridiculous.

I’m appalled at how people view things. How can they step on the person, and say “I’m not as bad as that” Where has the heart gone to? They should just accept what God made them out to be. They know they are fat, accept it and do something about it. This, however, is unfair to the people, referring to Kate.

I applaud, commend such people. They might lose something physically important, but have gained something emotionally important. Oxy-moron. The people that are physically healthy, but dying inside, refusing to admit that they are fortunate, dwelling in self-pity and self assurance. They are the oxymorons.

Live long? Prosper? Amigo, we have lived past the Qing dynasty. Sometimes dying is a better option than living. Because, many are merely just existing than living. What for fight so hard, brave the daunts, ending up losing. Hold on, making the pain more unbearable than it already is. Let go.

Have your answer and leave
My heart never knew of such grief
But you, my dear, have to leave

Even if it hurts me so, we’re far apart
God knows, my scripted part
Leave this pain behind, leave
I will continue legend, rest assured and leave

I love you.

El Dia de los Muertos. The day of the Dead. Miss you.

I really don’t want to care anymore. I have been narrating my life, its annoying, the narration forces you to think back. I don’t want to think, I don’t want to brood. I think back, lost my emotional footing, stumbled backwards. I realized I was not suppose to think about it anymore. I try so hard. God knows I do.

I’m about to lose my mind. Results. Results of the future. Results of the past. Is it damn important? Results is the conclusion of your efforts. People won’t understand, they never do.

El Dia de los Muertos. The day of the Dead. Sometimes, I wish I was dead. I would join you and get out of this wrecked up sinful world, where results define you.

Cruelty has a human heart, And jealousy a human face. Terror, the human form divine, And secrecy, the human dress.

Imma feeling good. :)

I believe theres hope.

I wouldn’t entirely say I have tried my best, neither would I say, I have not done anything at all. Being here now, at this critical point in time, I have only one thing to say, I am stuck in a dilema. Pity? Remorse? Anger? None of these emotions  are appealing, but if we are humans, in my current state of mind, I would bound to feel one of them.

So many spectators. That familiar alchemy of adoration and hatred simmered, transforming the flawed man before me into the mythic hero of my imagination. Superman, who had the power to reverse the revolution of the earth to save Lois Lane but refused; Prometheus, afraid of fire; Atlas, who dropped the heavens. My weakness, standing in front of me, silence. Would that even help?

I am now operating under a faith that the universe conspires to reveal the truth, that lies are are unstable elements that tend toward breaking down. Forever, God is faithful, forever God is true.

You can’t squeeze blood from a stone, the only one ending up bleeding is you. Very true. I realize I do not like reality much. That is why, I seek my imagination, I seek the books, I seek philosophy, I find ways and means to runaway, runaway from God. Truth is, I end up bleeding even more than I started off.

I don’t do reality. Reality is that my issues are up in my face. Reality is everything that is happening right now is real. Reality is if I don’t face God, I don’t know when I am going to. Reality is what happened this past few days is that my emotions making a fool out of me. Reality is I need God, I need to hunger for him, I want him. And the reality is real.

And so it is. You have to be broken, in order to cut some blood, to make some damage, to hear your sound, triumphant sound. So how broken am I? How more broken I have to be? Truth to be told, I don’t want the pain. Agony. Thickens my throat. I have struggled. They say, your struggling would be your forte. Why am I not seeing it come to past?

I feel hurt. Seeing things now. Heavy, burdened. People are ignorant by nature, but to this extent? I gave up on my dreams, my hopes, merely because I did not believe. I did not believe in myself. They say, the apple does not fall far from the tree, why then, I feel so far?

Answers. No choices. I need God, thats all I need to know. For now. I don’t care if anyone reads now, nothing matters. Nothing.

Lost touch with my soul
I had no where to turn
I had no where to go
Lost sight of my dream,
Thought it would be the end of me