December 2011
812 posts
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lol dad
Mom: Looks like we're spending the rest of the New Year just as a family, like for every celebration. *laughs*
Me: Why is that?
Mom: Because we're the only ones together who greeted the New Year. It's that superstition or whatever right. You spend the rest of the year with the people you greeted it with.
Me: Just the four of us? For every occasion of the year? That's just sad.
Mom: Why would that be sad? That's fine by me, really. I just need my family, not like our relatives who don't even have the decency to send me a greeting for 2012. I'm not obliged to text them, I've done all I can. *this goes on for 5 minutes*
Me: Mom, my life functions around the simple philosophy of letting go of things or people that anger you or make you sad. I suggest you let these things go.
Mom: I know you think that way. But I'm different and opinionated.
Dad: Lucky for me, I don't fuss about anything since I hate everyone.
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Won’t fade, No dear Kite, Ready be us For the next 100 days Tourette’s; Open thy arms Endure our winds And my torture
With bracing giggles And hopeful silence, We won’t fade We won’t Sky lanterns Thinking space, Still we stay Always
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Heads up for some mush
Ok, I thought my previous New Year message about the whole sipping-tea-from-mug thing would do, but turns out I got something else to say.
I just want to thank Tumblr for making me meet these wonderful people whom I get to talk to everyday, troll posts with and be overwhelmed by their stories imparted on my dash. It’s just… otherworldly really. You guys know who you are. The people...
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While the noisy people are parading the streets, watching the Burj Khalifa and its fireworks from a distance, here I am in my room, on Tumblr, sipping tea. Like a boss.
Happy 2012, world. *lifts mug*
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iwaspetrified asked: Tag, you’re it! Here are the rules: Each tagged person must post ten things about themselves. You have to choose and tag ten people. Go to their blogs and tell them you tagged them. No tagging back! :D
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your voice would turn up the lights this song would make the world spin faster your shiver would double my needs this story would mirror lifetimes your whisper would lift me to the skies your future would steal my present
with just you what else is there to care about
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I'm good, 2012
Father’s eyes were glued to the television. A zombie-like mother gathered the dirty dishes and was silent in the kitchen as she washed them. Sister’s yelling to a friend of hers who is on an instant messenger video-call conversation. I want to slap her with a fish because she’s too noisy. But I’ve no strength, no. I’ve been scratching my eyes for the past 10 minutes...
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I don’t know what love is But I leaned in, Kissed his lips; I realized His eyes didn’t close
I don’t know what love is But when I kissed him And his eyes didn’t close;
I knew then what isn’t love
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For the New Year, I will be “cleansing” my Friends list on Facebook for the… third time.
I mean seriously… is it even possible to be legit friends with 742 people, when the brain can only maintain 150 relationships? Operation Cleansing will commence in a coupe of hours. LET’S CLEANSE PEOPOW.
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TEAM JGL-IN-MY-PANTS
graffitiesprit and I…
In our pants is the general place we’d like Joseph Gordon-Levitt to…
Be naughty. In the pants. NOW.
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bruise
when exhaled air isn’t enough to get her breathing when your hopeful touch got her colder and blue when thirty hand-written letters meant nothing when she took your honest utters and stabbed you with it when a small heart isn’t enough to cover your lesions
you gave yourself away every inch is bruised you gave yourself away
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navigate
I’m not lost, no directions and maps; I got it right here
I’m not lost, no I know quite well where I’m headed
I’m not lost, no money and fake friends they’re not my loss
I’m not lost, no whatever is within these hands are all I need
I’m not lost, no just waiting for you to navigate
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Real enough to make everyone’s stories invalid, but ours.
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slipping away into the evening she dances on tip-toe like a high minx; her giggles break into soulful melodies
she had the most amazing smile that can make the hands of the clock drop six feet under, irretrievable
her eyes shine like a thousand moons melting even the demon’s intent into a liquid flower, gleaming and healing
she gently sits on the sleeping grass tucks her hair behind her...
“What if someday there came a tomorrow when we were apart?”
– Christopher Robin
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All Things
Door creaks
The sapphire sheets
Level with my eyes
Pillars of figures
And traces of ashes
Lead to
The stairwell;
With two
Pairs of shoes
Left unattended
There by the dock
Sat two children
I sense a blue blur
The other
A handsome
Brown one,
Skipping aside
Each other
Yelling at the sun
Calling on the grass
To support
Their secondly falls
The moon is kept,
Their pockets
Weep...
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Tomorrow, I*might* create a version of Zooey and Joe’s performance of What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve.
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Hope
Brought life
To my pain
And reveries;
It gave me
Solutions,
Answers
But it
Also gave me
A prison
I can’t escape;
A noose
Appears,
It shakes
Excitedly
I need
An Off-switch
Before
The madness
Ends me
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Stationary beds
Worn-out fashion
Bland machines
Same cold evening air
Bored roads
Recycled thoughts
Slippery patience
Tricky times of time
Mercurial distance
Exhausted sleep
I’d trade it all
With no hesitation
Just to hear you
Utter one real word
In front of me
Breath on face
Eyes on mine
Heart on sleeve
Soul as one
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Unstick
Candle in the dark
Salt on wounds
Distant rush
Of eager waves
Enter the sphere
That beholds
The souls of these
wonderful two
Demure talks
As the first minute
Whispers
Then they’re untangled
Into endless
Conversation
That disabled
The moon
Soon they disappear
Into the room
Or light
Unseen are they
Only shadows
Can be heard
Then a giggle
Breaks out
Two lovers
Emerge,...
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t h e
. z . i . t .
o n
m y
u p p e r
{ l i p }
i s
s o
B I G
I
c a n
h e a r
i t …
* t h i n k *
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I am irritated I am furious I am upset I am unstable
My hormones will destroy my relationships with people But for now I’ll drown that thought with a Ferrero Rocher
I am irritated I am furious I am upset I am unstable
I am only human; I hurt, I need, too
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42
You are my 0.5
In this well
We have plummeted
I hung our rose songs
Across these
Unshaking poles
The cake tastes bitter
But our hands
Blossom and fragrant
Remain as they are
You are my 0.5
The light
Disperses
Like pie on the wall
In sleep we remember
We are warm shawls
Around each other
Bodies agile
And partially aching
I wake in you, you in I
You are my 0.5
Inflammation...
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How to be rude at a birthday party:
Read a book
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Mornings
I like mornings. Even if I didn’t get to sleep well. Or I was up all night. Mornings are the most honest part of the day for me. When the alarm clock rings, you honestly shut it off, putting your responsibilities to the world to a stop. Even for just 5 minutes. You know it’s 6am and it’s time to get off the sheets and comfy pillows yet you snuggle up close to everything soft on...
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Did the books erase you
From who you were meant to be
“Lad! Be this! Be that!”
But you buried your nose
Among their precious covers
Would you lose your life
Within these colourful pages
As they painted your mind
With crafted realities
Coaxing you into a simulation
Have you forgotten your name
Or chose to never respond
To the label that left you gray
Wishing you were a...
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Twice
At the dead of the night
It brushes a feather down your spine
Feel your blood trickle
As if it sprung from a fountain
Marks of spilled wine are everywhere
The floor’s sticky
The carpet catches on
A broken violin lays on the floor
Partially pleading for it to sing
For the last time, as it fades
A phone suddenly appears
It rings inside its box
But the sound is too loud
As if it...
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“The only way out is through…”
– Robert Frost
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What is poetry?
Poetry is getting out of the hospital when you’re too perfect; unseen bruises.
Poetry is being mugged of pills that you never knew you took.
Poetry is the therapy you get after realizing the hidden taxes of breathing.
Poetry is the sea of mornings that hypnotizes you into over-thinking.
Poetry is the unfinished symphony you keep rearranging, but never did.
Poetry is the blood that...
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We
These slates are stuck in class
Play-pretending a session
Of truth and its spoofs
Under an umbrella
Against the falling lollipops
And stormy brown sugar hale
Forget these mundane hours
Stuck in a rut of stupid days
We’re better, we will rise;
These lessons are copy-righted
By our previous souls
We are horrified
But we’re incredible
We did what Life did
And not what Life...
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Smile
With your every word
You kissed my mind;
Tomorrow morning
I will smile
Like a maniac
As if I slept
With a hanger
In my mouth
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Sprightly
All I remember are fights and arguments
I blow this 4-hour bubble gum
Into the air that you once polluted
The lamp was dimly lit as you left
But it’s over, I’m better and sprightly
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A rocketship launches from my throat
Feel the wine at the tip of that flower
A smile exits these lungs
And unexpectedly lands next to you
Times are hard like your head
It turned you to a grandfather clock
I, A worn-out checkered blanket
We won’t lie: we’re not ok
The waves of fabricating seas
Promise us the best of sketches
But we just wish for this to over
Toss the door,...
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Begin
Walking little page
Across promising paths
Ink blots on its front
Dust on its back
It wasn’t complete
But it was off
To rely on its end
It wonders where to begin
The thought
From which it was born
Were of simple things
That parted
Like cracked bark
It pants under the sun
It gets closer to its better end
But where should it begin?
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Don't Say A Word
He’s in pieces
But it’s better than nothing
In exchange for sugar looks
I trade in my empty jacket
Let us do anything, everything
To aim for completion
Get that arm
Around my neck, now
My feet are cold
I’ll wrap them around you
Keep notes in your pocket
I’ll slide through your whistling
I’ll run away with you
When I wake up, don’t say a word
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“The trouble with life, it seems to me, is that it can turn out to be too late...”
– Stuart Hughes | Talking It Over by Julian Barnes
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I got you on me
Like a strange hook
Dangling from
My collar-bone
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“Flower, gleam and glow
Let your power shine
Make the clock reverse
Bring back...”
– Rapunzel | Tangled
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No I love you more novicepen. :-}
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Like Love
the hills couldn’t figure it out I’ll state something hastily: the new sun and its truth changed my ways
the stars live in my eyes; a picturesque blessing as the dawning of a present washed all over me like cold dew
tiring thoughts slip away from my defeated shoulders everything that you do, even the games make it all seem like love
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she didn’t want to leave or go anywhere in particular with eyes on her red shoes fringe all over her face she bit her lower lip and exhaled to remain stationary on this welcoming bench was all the attention she could want the bench said nothing it just stood on the ground cradling her as the trees spoke to themselves wishing her away but in the bench’s silence he silently prayed for...