Parallel Universe

I did start on this other blog a little while ago, but since the damn wifi networks here are going haywire, I couldn't sign on to add more continuations and/or chapters. I guess I'm trying to see if I can come up with something which can send chills down the reader's spine. Since Stephen King is my favorite author, I'm trying to take some inspiration from his short stories (Skeleton Crew and Nightmares and Dreamscapes if you haven't read them yet, though they're pretty damn old); the whole concept of an alternate dimension where creatures from my imagination run amock... and how a person from our dimension suddenly finds him/herself lost in that dimension yadda yadda. Creatures from this dimension can be found there as well, for I once did believe the existence of a separate dimension for dead people. Who knows... it may as well exist.

I'm having problems with creating characters for the story though. I guess I'll have to think this whole thing through before I dive in. And the thing about creating scenarios is kinda hard as well. But I must try at least. Always wanted to write a book since I was a kid. Hope it's not too late.

She came over today. I'm happy she found something she lost a while back. Something she holds dear to her heart I guess. But I wish she wouldn't strain herself by going to classes sick. At least she got to rest beside me.

Want you to know you made me happy
You are the best thing that I ever had...

Love you 'til the end Cleo.

Damn stiches

Well, it's safe to say my running days are officially over. Had a tumor removed from my left thigh last Thursday. Wasn't fun... trust me. Guess I'll just have to make do with walking... bleh. It started to grow since the 7th grade, when my friend stabbed my thigh with a fucking pointy-ass gel pen. Fucking asshole. And I finally removed it. At least I got a break from uni. But breaks from uni means I'm away from the Becca too. Me sad... but happy, since she came over yesterday. She bought me a cookie today... from the place where we had our first date. Sweet. I love her so damn much.

In any case, my lappy's going bye-bye. Something's seriously wrong with it, since the explorer.exe file keeps getting removed from the task manager thingy. Guess I'll have to re-install XP. Meh.

Omg!! It's pinching me!! The stitches are pinching meh!! Dx

Gutterbomb

So clear
Tasting the flesh of one so dear
Pushed on towards belligerence
To show how much it means

Finding ways to justify
How many deaths life can't deny
The genocide inside my mind
Breaking at the seams

From here on end
Hope shall be withdrawn
The cards are on the fucking table
Dealt by the hand of an imaginary god
As the waves collapse
And freedom begins to fold away
They all look on, uncertain
Of what the untold has to say...

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You walk inside my head
And promise nothing...

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The weather was crappy today... I figure that's one of the reasons I had such an awesome day. Okay... all this rhyming's really gettin' to me... I need sleep.

Waiting fer yer call babe... misseth.

Let go...

They say darkness is the absence of light. Black is not a color... since one cannot find the color in a rainbow. But it exists, nonetheless. It's lunchtime for the betrayed, broken, and torn... a "Let's take a break from happiness!" of sorts. It acts as a form of solitude for those who have faced way too much in life, though some of these people are well aware of others who have been through more. For some, it triggers their curiosity and gives them a feeling of mystery and suspense. While others just tremble at the slightest thought of being turned away from light. To them, a dark, warm cave means "filled with countless invisible, dirty hands waiting to tug at their hair!"

D:

I wish I was blind sometimes, just as a blind person would sometimes wish to see. I'm curious as to what their perspectives are... do they just see darkness? Or do they see a myriad of colors dancing about? Mental note: have a conversation with a blind person, you dumb piece o' shit! The fuck you askin' questions on a fuckin' blog for? JEEZ!!

Never mind the mental notes... they tend to make sure their views are shown. Some of you might feel the same way, but hey... that's irony for ya.

I like darkness. I like black (and also think it's a color). I guess that just goes to show that I'm no different than most people, whereas I strive for difference and individuality. Hypocrisy? Maybe... but I'll just call it Indifference (lol).

In other news, today was special. Met the Becca, rode around in a ricky, ate, talked, laughed... and all the while I was drowning in those eyes... and I think I lost myself a couple of times when she smiled at me. Yes, yes, I know... smitten fucktard... but give a guy a break, will ya?

It's times like this when I stop and wonder at the amount of randomness I spew whenever I write a blog right off the top of my head. Sometimes it gets so fucking depressing when I re-read my past blogs that I go to the bathroom and pretend to fall through the *shitter into a pool of water. (Trainspotting)

Love you Fiona.

*The place where one sits down and drops heaving masses of brown, banana-shaped, stinky wastage (aka shit, potty, kaka, goo, etc). I just don't like calling it a "commode" or a "toilet"... if there's any other appropriate word for this device, please feel free to clean mine and let me know. :)

Lol...

She said the last post was depressing because I didn't learn anything from the link since I was tired and seemed like I was going to postpone "living" until the next day. :P

It was 6am here. Sorry for not making that clear earlier... :/ I don't know how to fix the time-zone thingy :/

Loveth

Do

http://alexthegirl.com/2008/06/289

This just made my day. Stumbled upon it by accident, but wow. Inspiring stuff.

Tired. Gonna go read a book now... as per usual. Tomorrow, I live. Thanks Alex.

Shrek misses and loves his Fiona muchly.

Dreams

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.

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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?

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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.

Change

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...