From a distance, the bridge spanning an endless distance seemed ornate and ideal to stop and rest. Those idle fantasies came to naught from the very first step I took. I made the mistake of pausing a second too long and I felt the ground beneath me give way as I scrambled on.
Barely making the next few steps, I sneaked a peak behind, only to find that the path behind me has disappeared. If you're lucky, you can see some tiles bounce off the sides of the abyss, but the rest just crumbles without a sound.
What sucks is that.. I have to keep walking, even when I'm so tired, on the verge of collapse; even when I hate the long walk ahead, even when the heat of the sun bears me down. Yet there're times when I wished I could stand still and let the bottomless pit claim me, but the thought of a mangled body scared me on anyway. The one saving grace was the dry land that awaited me, but even its existence was questionable; what if this bridge was connected to another. Spirits dampened, I walked anyway.
If there was one thing I learnt crossing to the other side; keep walking, you don't have a choice anyway. Never stop to turn to your back, for there would be nothing to see anyway. That step you once took has vanished from the face of the Earth.
There was simply,
no turning back.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Black Snow
It was a sentence of caution retold by countless people; one that brought slight gasps to the attentive children listening to it.
"Drugs, they're bad for you. So never ever take a whiff, let alone a taste," said a primary school teacher to her class. Some took heed, while others succumbed. Time changes people, and unfortunately, it also dulls their memories; it was like they never chorused, "Yes teacher!" upon hearing her last word slip out of her tongue.
Perhaps he'd let his sense of adventure get the better of him a couple of years ago, and he had his first taste anyway. Whilst he let the initial high lift him up, he wondered how something so wrong can feel so right, like fluffy pillows laced with poison caressing his skin; he'd die happy in his sleep just to feel like that forever. The night was young as he danced his way to the heaven those shiny white gates promised him.
All good things had to end, and as the incredible sensation ebbed away from his soul, he desperately clawed at it, begging for its very essence once more. Reality was just too unreal to live in any longer, for heaven was just a pill away. As he stumbled into the alleyway in the dead of night, he trudged on, convinced that the angel he was meeting would lead him back into paradise, away from the hell he was suffering in.
Weekly stumbles for the light turned into weakened but desperate crawls; he needed it and it needed him. Far too often would he wake up screaming as paradise faded and hell awaited him; but something strange happened as the days passed; heaven became greyer. Those magical white clouds slowly but surely began to lose the glow that had once kept him enthralled. It was like a carousel that had broken down, and as its joyous music faded into the distance, he got up and attempted to regain what was left of his sanity.
Heaven was empty, so empty. The angels that brought him there were nowhere to be seen. Wind blew from all directions, caressing his skin once more, but the eerie chill only brought shivers down his spine. He ran round the premise looking for an exit, but all he saw were the same shiny white gates encircling what was then revealed as a prison for the damned; there was never meant to be an exit. He rattled the gates in frustration and agony, but they never budged. A brief reflection on the main gate gave his face away. Haggard, pale and sickly, he didn't look like a person basking in the radiant rays of heaven, but an enslaved prisoner of the fiery depths of hell.
Sensing defeat, the man laid down and waited for darkness to overcome him.
He took one last painful look at his surroundings, only to find that the once cotton-like clouds and glittery white gates..
were all painted black.
"Drugs, they're bad for you. So never ever take a whiff, let alone a taste," said a primary school teacher to her class. Some took heed, while others succumbed. Time changes people, and unfortunately, it also dulls their memories; it was like they never chorused, "Yes teacher!" upon hearing her last word slip out of her tongue.
Perhaps he'd let his sense of adventure get the better of him a couple of years ago, and he had his first taste anyway. Whilst he let the initial high lift him up, he wondered how something so wrong can feel so right, like fluffy pillows laced with poison caressing his skin; he'd die happy in his sleep just to feel like that forever. The night was young as he danced his way to the heaven those shiny white gates promised him.
All good things had to end, and as the incredible sensation ebbed away from his soul, he desperately clawed at it, begging for its very essence once more. Reality was just too unreal to live in any longer, for heaven was just a pill away. As he stumbled into the alleyway in the dead of night, he trudged on, convinced that the angel he was meeting would lead him back into paradise, away from the hell he was suffering in.
Weekly stumbles for the light turned into weakened but desperate crawls; he needed it and it needed him. Far too often would he wake up screaming as paradise faded and hell awaited him; but something strange happened as the days passed; heaven became greyer. Those magical white clouds slowly but surely began to lose the glow that had once kept him enthralled. It was like a carousel that had broken down, and as its joyous music faded into the distance, he got up and attempted to regain what was left of his sanity.
Heaven was empty, so empty. The angels that brought him there were nowhere to be seen. Wind blew from all directions, caressing his skin once more, but the eerie chill only brought shivers down his spine. He ran round the premise looking for an exit, but all he saw were the same shiny white gates encircling what was then revealed as a prison for the damned; there was never meant to be an exit. He rattled the gates in frustration and agony, but they never budged. A brief reflection on the main gate gave his face away. Haggard, pale and sickly, he didn't look like a person basking in the radiant rays of heaven, but an enslaved prisoner of the fiery depths of hell.
Sensing defeat, the man laid down and waited for darkness to overcome him.
He took one last painful look at his surroundings, only to find that the once cotton-like clouds and glittery white gates..
were all painted black.
Monday, March 12, 2012
How Rude
So if you had a maid, and you wanted her to do something for you, what would you say?
Far too often, I hear, "Maria, get me this!" followed by the condescending aura of a snobbish boss. Worst bit is that most people think it's normal.
They say stuff like, "Well she's a maid and I'm her boss; there's no need for any courtesy whatsoever."
Well fuck you too asshole :D
See, I like to bold the smiley face to properly portray my reaction towards these retards.
Of course, some people might argue that since they're already paying her to do stuff, there isn't a necessity to be polite, but think about it: If you want your maid to do her chores properly, she needs to be happy. Granted, she has to do a good job whether she likes it or not, but wouldn't it be nicer to have a more cheery environment in your own home? Would you like your maid to bitch about you behind your back on Sunday mornings when she meets up with her friends at Lucky Plaza? But back to my point, it's so much better if your maid does a good job not out of obligation but from the bottom of her heart.
The same problem goes with cleaners and other menial workers. Many people tend to think that they're higher than them in the social hierarchy, but how many of them bother to wonder, what hawker centers and restaurants look like without them? What would roads look like without them? What would shopping malls look like without them? If they're not around to do the dirty work, are YOU going to step up? Are YOU willing to get dirty to ensure that the tables we eat on are clean, and the urinals we take a piss on aren't filled with stains from drunk people the night before?
So the next time you want to ask any of those people for something, it doesn't kill to add in your pleases and thank yous. And if you still think they're worthless people, you can get yourself a nice, firm rope, make that into a noose and fucking hang yourself.
heehee
Far too often, I hear, "Maria, get me this!" followed by the condescending aura of a snobbish boss. Worst bit is that most people think it's normal.
They say stuff like, "Well she's a maid and I'm her boss; there's no need for any courtesy whatsoever."
Well fuck you too asshole :D
See, I like to bold the smiley face to properly portray my reaction towards these retards.
Of course, some people might argue that since they're already paying her to do stuff, there isn't a necessity to be polite, but think about it: If you want your maid to do her chores properly, she needs to be happy. Granted, she has to do a good job whether she likes it or not, but wouldn't it be nicer to have a more cheery environment in your own home? Would you like your maid to bitch about you behind your back on Sunday mornings when she meets up with her friends at Lucky Plaza? But back to my point, it's so much better if your maid does a good job not out of obligation but from the bottom of her heart.
The same problem goes with cleaners and other menial workers. Many people tend to think that they're higher than them in the social hierarchy, but how many of them bother to wonder, what hawker centers and restaurants look like without them? What would roads look like without them? What would shopping malls look like without them? If they're not around to do the dirty work, are YOU going to step up? Are YOU willing to get dirty to ensure that the tables we eat on are clean, and the urinals we take a piss on aren't filled with stains from drunk people the night before?
So the next time you want to ask any of those people for something, it doesn't kill to add in your pleases and thank yous. And if you still think they're worthless people, you can get yourself a nice, firm rope, make that into a noose and fucking hang yourself.
heehee
Monday, February 27, 2012
The Room
Going to the empty room unnerves as much as it excites him; a mix of every thinkable emotion swirling in my mind. Those four white walls echo his every thought, his every verbal musing. The thought of its omnipresence sent shivers down his spine; how can an inanimate being know him better than himself?
Closing his eyes as he felt the walls, he was jerked back into time where he faced a live feed of everything that was going through him now; the mother he wished he never neglected, the job he wished he never screwed up, the wife he wished he never abused. Those thoughts came like waves, drowning him alive, and he felt like he couldn't breathe, suffocated by his agonies and regrets.
He started envisioning a life without those mistakes; a happy family with his parents gardening in the backyard, kids fighting over the remote and a faithful wife busy preparing a hot meal for them. The warmth of that thought restored the glow back to his cheeks and the corners of his mouth did something they haven't done in a long time: fold upwards. Finally, there was something worth fighting for; his life wasn't finished with him. After a seemingly endless struggle in the pitch black tunnel, he could see a glimmer of hope in the form of a steady stream of light from beyond.
-and he opened his eyes to see the all too familiar white walls.
Oh that's right;
it was all just his imagination.
He turned off the lights and shut the door behind him as he dragged his feet out.
Closing his eyes as he felt the walls, he was jerked back into time where he faced a live feed of everything that was going through him now; the mother he wished he never neglected, the job he wished he never screwed up, the wife he wished he never abused. Those thoughts came like waves, drowning him alive, and he felt like he couldn't breathe, suffocated by his agonies and regrets.
He started envisioning a life without those mistakes; a happy family with his parents gardening in the backyard, kids fighting over the remote and a faithful wife busy preparing a hot meal for them. The warmth of that thought restored the glow back to his cheeks and the corners of his mouth did something they haven't done in a long time: fold upwards. Finally, there was something worth fighting for; his life wasn't finished with him. After a seemingly endless struggle in the pitch black tunnel, he could see a glimmer of hope in the form of a steady stream of light from beyond.
-and he opened his eyes to see the all too familiar white walls.
Oh that's right;
it was all just his imagination.
He turned off the lights and shut the door behind him as he dragged his feet out.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Post-school
So.. I heard my blog scream neglect so I hightailed over to rescue it.
The bad thing about not being bored is that I won't have the motivation to blog. It's quite ironic how I need something crappy to give me the push I need.
What have I been doing these days? Unlike most students, (ROFL) I don't have to wake up at 6 in the morning, I don't have to dread Mondays, and most of all, I travel on empty buses.
YOU JELLY?!
Moving on, do you have a friend who tries too hard to fit into your group? To further his efforts, he emulates everything that his friends do. You have a girlfriend? He's gonna hit on every girl he sees. You take pictures? He's gonna use his cheap Nokia phone and go around taking crappy shots. You swear? He's gonna talk like Kanye West. You swim? He'll drown, end of story.
Not that I don't feel sorry for these people who're obviously socially inept, but why try so hard to fit in when you can simply be yourself? When I look for a friend, I don't care if you're unattractive, I don't care if you still play YuGiOh cards.. LOL jk, if you do, fuck off. But seriously, you don't have to impress me to be my friend, I'm happy with a Plain Jane or a Normal Norman; in fact, I prefer you un-awesome people than the popular kids on the block. I guess in that sense, it makes you more awesome actually.
So please, if you, yes you right there, are insecure, or think you're doing that, stop it right now. Don't let society talk you down, don't be the person that other people want you to be, just be you. If I wanted to make friends with awesome people I would've talked to the mirror all day.
ROFL jk.
Happy first week of not working you scrubs!
The bad thing about not being bored is that I won't have the motivation to blog. It's quite ironic how I need something crappy to give me the push I need.
What have I been doing these days? Unlike most students, (ROFL) I don't have to wake up at 6 in the morning, I don't have to dread Mondays, and most of all, I travel on empty buses.
YOU JELLY?!
Moving on, do you have a friend who tries too hard to fit into your group? To further his efforts, he emulates everything that his friends do. You have a girlfriend? He's gonna hit on every girl he sees. You take pictures? He's gonna use his cheap Nokia phone and go around taking crappy shots. You swear? He's gonna talk like Kanye West. You swim? He'll drown, end of story.
Not that I don't feel sorry for these people who're obviously socially inept, but why try so hard to fit in when you can simply be yourself? When I look for a friend, I don't care if you're unattractive, I don't care if you still play YuGiOh cards.. LOL jk, if you do, fuck off. But seriously, you don't have to impress me to be my friend, I'm happy with a Plain Jane or a Normal Norman; in fact, I prefer you un-awesome people than the popular kids on the block. I guess in that sense, it makes you more awesome actually.
So please, if you, yes you right there, are insecure, or think you're doing that, stop it right now. Don't let society talk you down, don't be the person that other people want you to be, just be you. If I wanted to make friends with awesome people I would've talked to the mirror all day.
ROFL jk.
Happy first week of not working you scrubs!
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
TODAY
On this day:
116 - Emperor Trajan sends laureatae to the Roman Senate at Rome on account of his victories and being the conqueror of Parthia.
1646 - Battle of Torrington; the last major battle of the first English Civil War.
1940 - World War II: Altmark Incident: The German tanker Altmark is boarded by sailots from the British destroyer HMS Cossack. 299 British prisoners are freed.
2012 - The seemingly prophetic events added up to summarize the accumulation of pent up emotions after 4 months - 17 weeks of pure fuckery.
We're free.
116 - Emperor Trajan sends laureatae to the Roman Senate at Rome on account of his victories and being the conqueror of Parthia.
1646 - Battle of Torrington; the last major battle of the first English Civil War.
1940 - World War II: Altmark Incident: The German tanker Altmark is boarded by sailots from the British destroyer HMS Cossack. 299 British prisoners are freed.
2012 - The seemingly prophetic events added up to summarize the accumulation of pent up emotions after 4 months - 17 weeks of pure fuckery.
We're free.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
1 More Day
I would like to take this time to pay tribute to the most reliable staff in the department, and that is my laptop. The old, bulky and outdated lump of circuitry and plastics has surprisingly served me pretty damn well.
So thank you, dear laptop, even though you were presented to me by the spawn of King Kong, you helped me in my numerous conquests against the sickly bastard. My entire guide was born, polished and completed right here, in your warm body, absorbing my ideas and glee as I turned you against your own master. Thank you, for entertaining me when the ugly chimp wasn't around. Thank you, for responding to promptly to my frantic tab-changing requests so my manager wouldn't catch me ogling at pictures of Emma Watson.
These past 4 months with you were nothing but awesome. You're like the loyal butler who stays to serve, regardless of the frequent change in users; even when everyone else has written your abode off. Although your shitty USB ports were a tad annoying, I'll write that off without a second thought; on account of your outstanding services to my every whim and fancy.
As I depart from this place, I anticipate a tinge of sadness, walking out that front door never to return. And it's because of you, my friend. I hope you'll serve the next intern well.
Live long and prosper.
So thank you, dear laptop, even though you were presented to me by the spawn of King Kong, you helped me in my numerous conquests against the sickly bastard. My entire guide was born, polished and completed right here, in your warm body, absorbing my ideas and glee as I turned you against your own master. Thank you, for entertaining me when the ugly chimp wasn't around. Thank you, for responding to promptly to my frantic tab-changing requests so my manager wouldn't catch me ogling at pictures of Emma Watson.
These past 4 months with you were nothing but awesome. You're like the loyal butler who stays to serve, regardless of the frequent change in users; even when everyone else has written your abode off. Although your shitty USB ports were a tad annoying, I'll write that off without a second thought; on account of your outstanding services to my every whim and fancy.
As I depart from this place, I anticipate a tinge of sadness, walking out that front door never to return. And it's because of you, my friend. I hope you'll serve the next intern well.
Live long and prosper.
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