Saturday, January 10, 2009


Have you ever felt like you were born to make a difference in this lifetime? I have... but I still don't know what it could be. I guess I feel this way because, seriously, I'm tired of sitting on my ass and waiting for someone else to bring about change.

This world... thinking about it brings both smiles and tears. The beauty of it... the magnificence of its ability to hold life and take it away... the raw power of its nature... these things and more accumulate wonder and a certain feeling of happiness inside me, for I am a proud and enchanted part of it. Then again, the only thing keeping it from showing its true facade are its inhabitants. War, famine, racism, disrespect, murder... these things make the world look ugly, and I feel its humiliation. It hurts me to think about the prehistoric times when there were no humans strutting around, annihilating everything in their path, and killing each other over pieces of the ground (monkey killing monkey killing monkey). Things would've been much better off if we weren't so high and mighty.

I never had a soft spot for my own kind, except for friends and people who share the same views as I do. If you've seen the news on CNN or BBC about the Gaza genocide, you'd share the same feelings as I do. And all people can do about it is protest and put up anti-genocide groups on Facebook and Myspace. It may be a good start, but when do we see an end to all this bullshit? Why must I nag, listen to others whining and nagging, wait for someone else to do something about it, and fume with rage at my inability to do anything? I switched off the TV today after I saw two men carrying away two dead children of at least 6-7 years of age. That was the last straw. I locked myself in the bathroom and sat on the shitter (for who knows how long) before I was finally able to take a shower and eat dinner.

Why must these things take place on such a divine planet? It really fucking hurts, and I hope I can figure out a way to turn my Utopia into reality.


Just a thought.
If the reason why kids today listen to violent music is partly the result of other peoples' choices and actions, where the fuck do they get the gall to complain?


Here's something I wrote a while back. It shows my feelings as above (not the violent music part, mind you) and is also in my DeviantArt profile. Don't know if anyone shares the same views or not, but at least I hope I got my point across.


In touch with clouds
Right now I'm proud
Hear me for now
As I think aloud
Preaching peace fruitlessly
Waiting for Leo's Crayola bomb...

Sleeping through the sounds
Of war and famine
And other such atrocities
Waiting for apparent change
Useless, thought-provoking nonsense
Since I'm not doing much myself...

So why complain like a pain?

Have you seen this before?
Have you been there?
People running around
Their business more precious
Ask them and they shrug
"What else is there?"

Look around
Try to visualize change
Maybe then you'll see
What "fucked up" truly means...

It's a waste of time
A waste of breath
Not much I can do now
Except wait for a prying moment
As long as I don't lose myself along the way
For time is precious
As is what the future holds...

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