Just as the day is a mess.
Why do beautiful things happen at night, just when we are about to sleep?
Why is most of the day wasted on mindless droning?
Why does the night sky look so beautiful dotted with lights that shine in the dark?
Why does peace reign in the night, when it is said the light is where we find peace?
Why does our heart race only for a moment?
Why does hope come close only in the coolness of the night?
I'd like to know why.
Because "it is so" doesn't cut it for me.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Friday, November 14, 2008
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
#150 You Know What's Sad?
I don't want to go to work. I want to laze around for just a day.
...
...
...
Heck, I'll just go to work. Better than rot at home.
Now that's sad.
...
...
...
Heck, I'll just go to work. Better than rot at home.
Now that's sad.
#149 Solitaire
Solitaire by Clay Aiken
There was a man, a lonely man
Who lost his love through his indifference
A heart that cared, that went unshared
Until it died in his silence
And Solitaire's the only game in town
And every road that takes him, takes him down
And by himself, it's easy to pretend
He'll never love again
And keeping to himself he plays the game
Without her love it always ends the same
While life goes on around him everywhere
He's playing Solitaire
Another day, a lonely day
So much to say that goes unspoken
And through the night, his sleepless nights
His eyes are closed, his heart is broken
And Solitaire's the only game in town
And every road that takes him, takes him down
And by himself it's easy to pretend
She's coming back again
And keeping to himself he plays the game
Without her love it always ends the same
While life goes on around him everywhere
He's playing Solitaire
A little hope, goes up in smoke
Just how it goes, goes without saying
Solitaire
And by himself it's easy to pretend
He'll never love again
And keeping to himself he plays the game
Without her love it always ends the same
While life goes on around him everywhere
He's playing Solitaire
Solitaire, solitaire
It's not the only game around, but what the heck's wrong with me?
Playing solitaire in spite of my drowsiness, in spite of being bored to tears already.
Maybe I just can't stand the pointless sleep, and never-ending struggle through the day.
Being overworked fine, but I wish the world was two-dimensional.
Because having a dysfunctional department isn't fine.
Add the third-world treatment crap (and not even from my colleagues but some outsiders!) in, simply because you are a temporary staff.
In spite of all that, I am hard-wired to do my job.
You know what's bliss to me?
It's living a two-dimensional existence.
Work's just work, play's just play; all clear-cut and cookie-cutter style.
You know what's life to the fullest to me?
It's a far off want. So far I can't even see it.
Just don't tell me how good that side of the grass is.
It ain't convincing. You look like a mannequin.
At least I can look forward to solitaire. And then some more.
There was a man, a lonely man
Who lost his love through his indifference
A heart that cared, that went unshared
Until it died in his silence
And Solitaire's the only game in town
And every road that takes him, takes him down
And by himself, it's easy to pretend
He'll never love again
And keeping to himself he plays the game
Without her love it always ends the same
While life goes on around him everywhere
He's playing Solitaire
Another day, a lonely day
So much to say that goes unspoken
And through the night, his sleepless nights
His eyes are closed, his heart is broken
And Solitaire's the only game in town
And every road that takes him, takes him down
And by himself it's easy to pretend
She's coming back again
And keeping to himself he plays the game
Without her love it always ends the same
While life goes on around him everywhere
He's playing Solitaire
A little hope, goes up in smoke
Just how it goes, goes without saying
Solitaire
And by himself it's easy to pretend
He'll never love again
And keeping to himself he plays the game
Without her love it always ends the same
While life goes on around him everywhere
He's playing Solitaire
Solitaire, solitaire
It's not the only game around, but what the heck's wrong with me?
Playing solitaire in spite of my drowsiness, in spite of being bored to tears already.
Maybe I just can't stand the pointless sleep, and never-ending struggle through the day.
Being overworked fine, but I wish the world was two-dimensional.
Because having a dysfunctional department isn't fine.
Add the third-world treatment crap (and not even from my colleagues but some outsiders!) in, simply because you are a temporary staff.
In spite of all that, I am hard-wired to do my job.
You know what's bliss to me?
It's living a two-dimensional existence.
Work's just work, play's just play; all clear-cut and cookie-cutter style.
You know what's life to the fullest to me?
It's a far off want. So far I can't even see it.
Just don't tell me how good that side of the grass is.
It ain't convincing. You look like a mannequin.
At least I can look forward to solitaire. And then some more.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
#148 Sigh
If Only, Ultra Galaxy wasn't a pay per view show. I'd like to get my hands on all of the Ultra Series, from Showa to Heisei.
And it bothers me (really!) that I can't catch the Ultra 8 Brothers in theatres. The Ultra Series has a small following of fans culminating in a website here.
And then there's the King of Hell Castle (Kiva), Final Countdown (Den-O) & GekijoBang! (Go-onger) that I haven't watched. ~_~...!
And it bothers me (really!) that I can't catch the Ultra 8 Brothers in theatres. The Ultra Series has a small following of fans culminating in a website here.
And then there's the King of Hell Castle (Kiva), Final Countdown (Den-O) & GekijoBang! (Go-onger) that I haven't watched. ~_~...!
Thursday, November 6, 2008
#148 An Angel In The Distance
...Called out to me.
Said that I could be more than who I am. That I could become who I was meant to be.
Told me to come closer, to draw nearer.
I felt that sense of familiarity, of belief, of trust.
And then silence swept in.
You spoke, I couldn't hear. Whispered, yet I didn't understand.
Were I closer, just a little closer, I'd have grasped the essence of your words.
In a span of nothingness, the distance grew.
The things I knew I tried to do.
Beyond myself was the starting point.
Yet beyond that point, the sheet of darkness fell.
Was I too far off?
You seemed to say no, but I couldn't be sure.
Don't self-destruct, there was still hope.
Was that the voice of you from far off?
Or was that just my own mind in self-denial still?
Reason couldn't touch base.
It seems once again I've missed the point.
If only, once more, I'd have a second chance.
I'd choose not to lose it all.
And then some more.
A couple of days back, I was keeping in the laundry in the middle of a thunderstorm. Of course, I was sheltered from most of the rain, because I was technically still in my own home (the balcony).
A series of unfortunate events (pun intended, but no other explanation will be given) occurred, and my anger burned to match the crash of thunder outside.
Suddenly, one of the metal clothes stands (the ones that you put two bamboo poles on top and clip the clothes to them) toppled over, hitting my leg in the process.
I'd like to think that it was my aura of rage that knocked it over, but reality has it that the strong gale knocked it down.
Incensed (and my pride wounded, as an angry man is supposed to destroy, not get hurt; you don't see King Kong hitting a building and breaking a bone) by that unexpected event, I proceeded to give the metal stand a good kick.
What a kick. Ronaldo (or whoever, you get the point) would have been proud. It was a kick that I would never have undertaken in my usual sane (questionable) state of mind. But then again, back then between the thunder and my rage, I was closer to the Dark Side than to think of how my poor leg would suffer.
And so I bore the consequences; Not only did I not succeed in doing any visible damage to the stand, I also gave the sole of my foot a wound; one that would haunt me, impairing my movement for the rest of the day.
In defeat I limped back into the safety of the living room and back to my laptop.
But that's not the end.
A few hours later, I noticed another wound still bleeding; one that had been caused by the initial impact of hard, heavy metal upon baby-like (okay, maybe not) skin, flesh and bones.
OUCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
And so, days later, the wound hasn't healed. It's too big to put a plaster on and the bandages at home are yellow from the years of neglect (plus I'm to lazy to do anything about it).
So each day, when I get home from work, I have a hell of a time pulling the dried blood and plasma from my socks, reopening the wound in the process.
Well done, Windez. Well done.
Which brings to mind a short conversation I had with Sharon a couple of weeks ago when we met in coincidence.
Sharon: You haven't changed at all.
Windez: Yeah, I'm still as dumb as ever. *pokes fingers together*
Said that I could be more than who I am. That I could become who I was meant to be.
Told me to come closer, to draw nearer.
I felt that sense of familiarity, of belief, of trust.
And then silence swept in.
You spoke, I couldn't hear. Whispered, yet I didn't understand.
Were I closer, just a little closer, I'd have grasped the essence of your words.
In a span of nothingness, the distance grew.
The things I knew I tried to do.
Beyond myself was the starting point.
Yet beyond that point, the sheet of darkness fell.
Was I too far off?
You seemed to say no, but I couldn't be sure.
Don't self-destruct, there was still hope.
Was that the voice of you from far off?
Or was that just my own mind in self-denial still?
Reason couldn't touch base.
It seems once again I've missed the point.
If only, once more, I'd have a second chance.
I'd choose not to lose it all.
And then some more.
A couple of days back, I was keeping in the laundry in the middle of a thunderstorm. Of course, I was sheltered from most of the rain, because I was technically still in my own home (the balcony).
A series of unfortunate events (pun intended, but no other explanation will be given) occurred, and my anger burned to match the crash of thunder outside.
Suddenly, one of the metal clothes stands (the ones that you put two bamboo poles on top and clip the clothes to them) toppled over, hitting my leg in the process.
I'd like to think that it was my aura of rage that knocked it over, but reality has it that the strong gale knocked it down.
Incensed (and my pride wounded, as an angry man is supposed to destroy, not get hurt; you don't see King Kong hitting a building and breaking a bone) by that unexpected event, I proceeded to give the metal stand a good kick.
What a kick. Ronaldo (or whoever, you get the point) would have been proud. It was a kick that I would never have undertaken in my usual sane (questionable) state of mind. But then again, back then between the thunder and my rage, I was closer to the Dark Side than to think of how my poor leg would suffer.
And so I bore the consequences; Not only did I not succeed in doing any visible damage to the stand, I also gave the sole of my foot a wound; one that would haunt me, impairing my movement for the rest of the day.
In defeat I limped back into the safety of the living room and back to my laptop.
But that's not the end.
A few hours later, I noticed another wound still bleeding; one that had been caused by the initial impact of hard, heavy metal upon baby-like (okay, maybe not) skin, flesh and bones.
OUCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
And so, days later, the wound hasn't healed. It's too big to put a plaster on and the bandages at home are yellow from the years of neglect (plus I'm to lazy to do anything about it).
So each day, when I get home from work, I have a hell of a time pulling the dried blood and plasma from my socks, reopening the wound in the process.
Well done, Windez. Well done.
Which brings to mind a short conversation I had with Sharon a couple of weeks ago when we met in coincidence.
Sharon: You haven't changed at all.
Windez: Yeah, I'm still as dumb as ever. *pokes fingers together*
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
#147 Voila
To Kenneth: I've updated your blog link =)
Thanks for blog tag.
To the rest of the world:
YOOHOO!
End.
Oh well, back to Engine Sentai Go-onger, bom bom!
Kivatto Ikuze!
Thanks for blog tag.
To the rest of the world:
YOOHOO!
End.
Oh well, back to Engine Sentai Go-onger, bom bom!
Kivatto Ikuze!
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