Saturday, February 28, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Happiness
Does one need pleasures of life to be happy? I was having a minor discussion about this the other day.
Army changes oneself. It used to be the warm and comfy bed or the sumptuous and delectable meal every once in a while. Now? I'm satisfied with just a slice of Bonjour's Chocolate Chip bread and a steaming cup of coffee. Or is that a cup of steaming coffee.
But happiness would come from within and not from out in right? So then why would actions or events on the external cause an outflow of happiness from the inside?
Yet, life is but strange and peculiar, and I admit, my mind is slowly angling towards intangible riches at the moment. Perhaps it is the numerous cultural changes that makes one hold on tight to memories in a world of changing surroundings.
Food is to live, and so is water. Sleep is but to nourish the body.
Happiness heals the heart, and makes it whole again.
You make me happy :)
Army changes oneself. It used to be the warm and comfy bed or the sumptuous and delectable meal every once in a while. Now? I'm satisfied with just a slice of Bonjour's Chocolate Chip bread and a steaming cup of coffee. Or is that a cup of steaming coffee.
But happiness would come from within and not from out in right? So then why would actions or events on the external cause an outflow of happiness from the inside?
Yet, life is but strange and peculiar, and I admit, my mind is slowly angling towards intangible riches at the moment. Perhaps it is the numerous cultural changes that makes one hold on tight to memories in a world of changing surroundings.
Food is to live, and so is water. Sleep is but to nourish the body.
Happiness heals the heart, and makes it whole again.
You make me happy :)
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
love
Many a person struggling to make their love last,
To love their 'target' over,
Some desperately clinging on to its tiny shreds,
like the minute fragments of a broken mirror.
Whoever said the world is lacking of love would be unfeeling.
Or hidden from sight.
For love is but abundant.
Only hidden from your eyes.
It wouldn't be fair for the girl who has pined for the guy
for two years over
and suffered loving him
betrayal distrust insecurities and perhaps
he might never be hers to keep.
It wouldn't be kind to the girl who has him in her mind
no matter their distance
knowing she will love him
despite the ring on finger.
Many a fools have died in love
and many more will live.
From love to love
from alive to live.
To love their 'target' over,
Some desperately clinging on to its tiny shreds,
like the minute fragments of a broken mirror.
Whoever said the world is lacking of love would be unfeeling.
Or hidden from sight.
For love is but abundant.
Only hidden from your eyes.
It wouldn't be fair for the girl who has pined for the guy
for two years over
and suffered loving him
betrayal distrust insecurities and perhaps
he might never be hers to keep.
It wouldn't be kind to the girl who has him in her mind
no matter their distance
knowing she will love him
despite the ring on finger.
Many a fools have died in love
and many more will live.
From love to love
from alive to live.
Life.
Bah. Memories.
They come like a flood.
Sparked by one's stupidity.
(Why did I go visit your blog I wonder)
A walk down memory lane
becomes one's desperate run against time and tide.
Day becomes night, and land becomes sea.
A surge of torrents,
they push forward unceasingly
Devouring everything in its path
Leaving no trace behind.
Except depressions.
Colors.
They fly.
They mix and entwine.
Like two lovebirds caught
In a kaleidoscope.
The heart races and stirs.
Like a slash off one's face.
Take a dagger and stab me twice
heh, no kidding
it doesn't matter if you're naughty or nice.
That which was healed after the hurt,
its wounds but tore open again
And over time it was healed
But superficially and not within.
Till now.
You played me, I would like to think.
Or perhaps we merely had just a fling.
That is but a bittersweet memory
Till the day that I'll say Blimey!
Let me hide in a corner but no I can't do that
lest I arouse the memories of my ex.
Let me go for a walk or a ride in the bus
but that would evoke you out of my mind
Try not to, I must.
Oh, if only we didn't had such an indepth insight into our character
That every new action or thought was treated with childlike curiosity.
Where we don't have to struggle to comprehend to try to understand
To find the right mix of words phrases and lines
That which would be befitting
to ourselves.
Oh, but there is, is there not.
It's called life.
And it goes on.
They come like a flood.
Sparked by one's stupidity.
(Why did I go visit your blog I wonder)
A walk down memory lane
becomes one's desperate run against time and tide.
Day becomes night, and land becomes sea.
A surge of torrents,
they push forward unceasingly
Devouring everything in its path
Leaving no trace behind.
Except depressions.
Colors.
They fly.
They mix and entwine.
Like two lovebirds caught
In a kaleidoscope.
The heart races and stirs.
Like a slash off one's face.
Take a dagger and stab me twice
heh, no kidding
it doesn't matter if you're naughty or nice.
That which was healed after the hurt,
its wounds but tore open again
And over time it was healed
But superficially and not within.
Till now.
You played me, I would like to think.
Or perhaps we merely had just a fling.
That is but a bittersweet memory
Till the day that I'll say Blimey!
Let me hide in a corner but no I can't do that
lest I arouse the memories of my ex.
Let me go for a walk or a ride in the bus
but that would evoke you out of my mind
Try not to, I must.
Oh, if only we didn't had such an indepth insight into our character
That every new action or thought was treated with childlike curiosity.
Where we don't have to struggle to comprehend to try to understand
To find the right mix of words phrases and lines
That which would be befitting
to ourselves.
Oh, but there is, is there not.
It's called life.
And it goes on.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Darkness.
Darkness.
Its comforts.
Knowing that you don't know the unknown.
That one cannot fathom the mysteries and powers that lurk within.
Darkness.
That which is devoid of light.
Lack of warmth, lack of heart.
Lack of wisdom impart.
Darkness.
Knowing that one does not know what is out there.
Is that knowledge? Or the lack of it?
But if one were to profess to know what one does not know
would be enlightening or disheartening?
Its comforts.
Knowing that you don't know the unknown.
That one cannot fathom the mysteries and powers that lurk within.
Darkness.
That which is devoid of light.
Lack of warmth, lack of heart.
Lack of wisdom impart.
Darkness.
Knowing that one does not know what is out there.
Is that knowledge? Or the lack of it?
But if one were to profess to know what one does not know
would be enlightening or disheartening?
Her First Time
The man asks the girl if she's afraid and she shakes her head bravely. He has had more experience, but it's the first time his finger has found the right place.
He probes deeply and she shivers; her body tenses; but he's gentle like he promised he'd be.
He looks deeply within her eyes and tells her to trust him-he's done this many times before.
His cool smile relaxes her and she opens wider to give him more room for an easy entrance. She begins to plead and begs him to hurry, but he slowly takes his time, wanting to cause her as little pain as possible.
As he presses closer, going deeper, she feels the tissue gives way; pain surges throughout her body and she feels the slight trickle of blood as he continues.
He looks at her concerned and asks her if it's too painful. Her eyes are filled with tears but she shakes your head and nods for him to go on. He begins going in and out with skill but she is now too numb to feel him within her.
After a few moments, she feels something bursting within her and he pulls it out of her, she lays panting, glad to have it over. He looks at her and smiling warmly, tells her, with a chuckle; that she has been his most stubborn yet most rewarding experience.
She smiles and thanks him. After all, it was her first time to have a tooth pulled.
He probes deeply and she shivers; her body tenses; but he's gentle like he promised he'd be.
He looks deeply within her eyes and tells her to trust him-he's done this many times before.
His cool smile relaxes her and she opens wider to give him more room for an easy entrance. She begins to plead and begs him to hurry, but he slowly takes his time, wanting to cause her as little pain as possible.
As he presses closer, going deeper, she feels the tissue gives way; pain surges throughout her body and she feels the slight trickle of blood as he continues.
He looks at her concerned and asks her if it's too painful. Her eyes are filled with tears but she shakes your head and nods for him to go on. He begins going in and out with skill but she is now too numb to feel him within her.
After a few moments, she feels something bursting within her and he pulls it out of her, she lays panting, glad to have it over. He looks at her and smiling warmly, tells her, with a chuckle; that she has been his most stubborn yet most rewarding experience.
She smiles and thanks him. After all, it was her first time to have a tooth pulled.
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