reinventing the other self to mirror image

i don’t want to invent myself at this stage of my life.
why do i feel as if this is the end.
the stars have started shedding.
dust everywhere.
is this the spring that lost its flowers.
maybe i lost all the was me.

oh dear me. dear pluto panes. can you?

please kay,

please don’t accuse me of leaving or changing or moving away.
when did i do that. haven’t i been there always. haven’t i answered whenever you called. haven’t i felt sick every time you were.

but why do you forget that every good thing comes to an end. i know what is between us is beautiful and it always will be. but then i am just another phase of your life. and you need to move on. thank you for loving me when i least deserved it. you were never mine, Kay. i can not hold on to you. i want you to be free. i want you to BE. every sad chapter of present will become great tales for tomorrow. never lose yourself because of anyone else.

somewhere in this lovely fucked up world i will be miss you when i look at the stars or a crow.

sorry for everything. this is not a goodbye note. this is a love letter.

in conversation with ‘someone’

how am i?

well the exact answer is i don’t know.

and all that talk about job n things. i just was kidding. i don’t really care about job. and it isn’t really tough to get a job. it just that i love to cry about how sad my life is that’s all.

and who told you that i am good with words. i am not. check out this new site of mine www.urbanwaste.co.cc

well the fact of matter is that even by JNU standard i was weird. but i am not really weird. actually i am quite normal. well not just normal but recycle. aren’t we living in the plastic ages. we are the recycle bin of the glorious history. and i am just another polythene. if even by being weird (and thereby unwanted) i stand out. i don’t wish for that to happen. it would destroy everything i stand for. and what do i stand for. well. i don’t stand for anything. no cause. no logic. no magic. no nirvana. no final answer.

ah… the comfort of being a non-being.

according to you god has planned our meeting. that’s cute. so be it. let our figments of imagination rule our glorious destiny.

*that reminds me. watched inglorous bastards (tarantino). brilliant movie. a classic tarantino.

what else?

people make too much out of happiness. and you know why. because people have quite unique and abstract ideas about what that is. anyways if my unhappiness displeases you. then i shall refrain from being unhappy in front of you. i shall hid any hint of sorrow that might cause you to feel uneasiness. (it sound so cute.)

in conversation again

still having a great day?

no.. but am too lazy to change it

how does it matter anyways..

it matters for people like us. who keep tab on u from far. these letters n words are the only connection between us. to know you and not me.

how are you?

there is a root problem to the question of getting rooted. the start from the tree down the branches. and reaching out for the undergrowth. it wasn’t as it seemed all along. so to get rooted. one might argue. would be to lay hidden. or maybe not. but the chioce isn’t about the reaches one has. but rather the flaws of getting unrooted.

don’t ask me what i meant. maybe i wrote everything i meant. or maybe i was hiding it all. maybe i filled in the blanks and deleted the question.

where are you?

where am i?

wasn’t that a question they used to ask.
spoken about but never talked. into the silent corners of everyday life. laid down of the thick layers of habit. the gong never rang again. a jingle reminded of the still.

when are you coming?

scratches on the edge of the clouds poured the water down the hill.
crashed the building blocks.

did u get buried there? amongst the building blocks?

“after you were gone, you left me crying.
after you were gone, you left me dying.”

well that’s a great jazz song.
i was listenning to the woody allen version.

Ring-a-ring-a-roses,
A pocket full of posies;
Hush! hush! hush! hush!
We’re all tumbled down.

dkmcfawebhjk;jfh;ueaj;jbfhwjke;qhjku;rfhefjdeakwerkwafer;

how i wish that made sense to that. i really do. how i wish i could know read all that you never meant to say? each distorted alphabets of wimpful harmony. tiny edges of lost meaning. wish i could hear them all. wish i could find them all.

<BLANK>

remember the small chink that let the air in.
the vent of the suffocated heart.

in conversation (black/ blue)

you can call me whatever you want. Mr. black or Mr. blue.
colours aren’t going to reflect me ever. neither will the total abnegation of hues.

Ring-a-ring-a-roses,
A pocket full of posies;
Hush! hush! hush! hush!
We’re all tumbled down.

Nihilism (from the Latin nihil, nothing) is the philosophical doctrine suggesting the negation of one or more aspects of life. Most commonly, nihilism is presented in the form of existential nihilism which argues that life is without objective meaning, purpose, or intrinsic value. Moral nihilists assert that morality does not inherently exist, and that any established moral values are abstractly contrived. Subsequently there are no moral values with which to uphold a rule or logically prefer one action over another. Nihilism can also take epistemological, metaphysical, or ontological forms. Meaning, there is no point to anything, as in, any action taken has absolutely no value to the meaning in which it was taken. There was no purpose to taking it in the first place.

The term nihilism is sometimes used in association with anomie to explain the general mood of despair at a perceived pointlessness of existence that one may develop upon realizing there are no necessary norms, rules, or laws. Movements such as Futurism and deconstructionism, among others, have been identified by commentators as “nihilistic” at various times in various contexts.

[Source: Wikipedia.org]

what sort of a nihilist are u?

i refuse to answer such a question.

weather has an element of whether in it.

hows the weather today?

<good.. silent, still, calm.. little foolish though..>

the foolish silent calm still good weather must smile a lot. the cherubic smile.

instructional designer

i work at Kaplan.

i am working as an instructional designer.

what am i designing? well i am designing prototype human babies.

well human have stopped being humans. so there is an obvious need to create humans. so my job is to identify the markers that have failed the logins of humanity and there recreate a newer and somewhat more effective human qualities. yeah it is a controversial endeavor but then that’s what the job entrails. so i create/ design such prototype human babies.

how are you? what are you doing now?

i wasn’t born….am a soul!

that’s the tragedy of my (non-heroic) life. people think i am funny while i intend to be serious. i need to be taken seriously.

what do you mean by you weren’t born. you are soiled?

oh my mistake. you wrote you are a soul. i thought you said i am soiled. my apologies.

the season’s changing temperaments are apparent in me cause got a bad cough and cold!

a sneeze would blow the dirt around. welcome to the fairy land.
fever would walk hand in hand and slide through the rabbit hole and meeting alice there will get lost in the wonder world.

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but that’s a really nice question. i.e what do i want to do?

i want to cut a paper into a million pieces and stick them back.
i want to jump from the seventh floor and never reach the ground.
i want to fish on clouds.

maybe these or maybe wishes a hundred more.
but most of all i just want to know what i really want.
just for once i want to have a dream.

* i wish i could sleep and wake up in that dream.

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wow……why do i feel as if i have heard these lyrics before?

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because everything sound the same. reads the same. there is no new rhythm to anything anyways. do you expect my writing to sound new. ha. you shouldn’t.

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you are a nice person.

(what the fuck does that mean any way?)