A Cynical Calm

For every wound, a balm.
For every sorrow, cheer.
For every storm, a calm.
For every thirst, beer!

Indeed, a lover that’s always here.
The wonders of beer.

Well, perhaps not so much beer, but I did enjoy couple’a bottles of wine. There is much to say about the perspectives a drink can give a mind like mine.

Realisations of a life my own that no one can really or would really bother with. I’ve always had a satisfying life when I am content. Ambition, covetousness, greed, even hope and expectations almost unquestionably lead your sorry ass down a road to despair and disappointment.

When opportunity knocks, open the door and let it in if you like the looks of it. I figure its best not to even expect anything interesting outside the door, apart from bloody salesmen selling toilet chutes and pairs of Jehovah Witnesses.

I wonder how long this calm can last. Perhaps it’s just the eye of some godly storm, and when the storm is over, there will be nothing left of me. Or what was recognisably me.

Meanwhile, I’m happy to note I do have something I can look forward to. Even after downgrading my mobile phone plan, albeit with a contract, I got a new mobile phone for a fraction of its cost; and it does come with all preferred bells and whistles. I’m just waiting anxiously it to arrive. Now that’s one of the very few things I can be sure expectations would not disappoint. I hope.

Nihil Ex Nihilo

Sleep was such saccharine comfort. The dark dormancy of a faded life. Dreams were a joy and sweet pretense. I could see you, even if it was just a lie.

Where have you hidden yourself, Mr. Sandman?
Why have you left me awake
When I needed you most?
Where is your sand to blind my despicable consciousness
And allow me sweet repose?

The minutes of welcoming unconsciousness,
Visits me with little comfort.
Where are my sweet dreams?
Why have they left me with naught
But visions of despondency?

I can’t sleep.
I hate my dreams.
Contaminated by emptiness
Stained by darkness.

God made everything out of nothing, and I can see nothingness in everything.

Everything I do, everything I say,
Leads not to where I hope.
Nothing I do, nothing I say,
Leads to naught but the same noose on a proverbial rope.

What do I really want to say today?
Nothing I guess, from where I lay,
I’ll just watch my sanity slip away.

A Lunar New Wreck

Its been nice and heartwarming to be in the presence of unconditional love. I know I can find it in God, even tho' I haven't been able to feel it through my absent mind, heart and soul. Its just empty. Feels empty, even tho' I know its there.

Family. Thank you God.
Friends. Thank you God.
My light. Thank you. Thank you God.

In the refuge of your arms I seek. I thank you for the moments you allow in my life when I can forget about it all. Rare but much cherished moments.

The moment ends, and I return to face a world of empty walls, meaningless television and webpages. I wait for my light. When I think I finally see it, I see it flicker. I see it. Then I don't know where it has gone. And I don't know why. My chest aches, and my mind ... I don't even know if I have much of that now.

And I'm cursing the motherfuckers burning motherfucking paper incense shit in the stairwell below my home (if I can call it a home). I curse the motherfucking smoke, from all the motherfucking incense and paper burning by the motherfucking bastards, making the air around me a stinking burning thick murky phlegm. I wonder if they are half brained motherfuckers with no sense of neighbourly consideration, conceived by motherfucking inbreeding.

I can feel the emptiness in me being filled with hate. And I hate that its happening so insidiously. I wish the smoke from the motherfucking house of bastards downstairs will thicken tonight as I close my drowning eyes. Perhaps I won't have to wake up to face a dark sunny day anymore.

Eclipse

Watching the skies,
the prospects of light
lay in cloudy lies.

Darkness prevails
in the waning light.
Dreary blue and grey
is all that’s in sight.

Black emerges,
as the sun is swallowed,
by a shadow that taints
what stands below.


In an incredible affirmation of how incredibly crappy my life is turning out to be, I can look forward to watching the sun disappear for a couple of hours, this very year. And just to make things clear, its even going to happen twice.

It would seem Singapore's skies will darken twice this year. First would be on the first day of the festive Chinese New Year. Whoopie. Finally something remotely interesting is going to happen on Chinese New Year. Excitement builds, kinda like watching your friend about to sit on a whoopie cushion.

I wonder what the pundits of astrology and fengshui is going to come up with for this phenomena. By the way, doesn't fengshui (wind and water) remind anyone of the rushing sounds of a toilet being flushed? And the masters of fengshui who flow in tandem with it, are very likely the turds. Ok, maybe I'm too harsh on them, lets call them dingleberries instead. Sticky crap that refuses to go away without several good wipes. At best, you might find them as useful as fungi being cultivated on your inner thighs.

This would also be a good time to convince people who piss you off, that viewing the eclipse with the naked eye is a good idea. For extra fun, you might even consider pushing the idea of a telescope.

And oh, the next one will occur in July 2009. Whoop de doo.

I can hardly contain my excitement. My life is complete. Somebody crack my skull with a hammer now. Anybody.

I'd Love To Go a-Wandering...

There is such an overwhelming urge within me to take whatever little essentials I need and the few dollars I have, and simply take the cheapest mode of transportation into the next country. The change and my final absence, would probably even be best for those I love.

I've always wanted to see the world on foot, or as much as my freakishly lazy feet will allow. I wonder, it would be nice to end my last days seeing something new every dawn. To move on from place to place alone without worry of being a worrisome stone or anything in anyone's life. I have long admired the lives of such lonesome wanderers and somehow, I feel myself being drawn to being just such an invisible and unknown shadow on this earth.

There is no true soul I can see, to whom I can truly bare my soul. Everyone sees but aspects of me. Aspects, to even those that matter to me, would have already made them wish I was someone else or just elsewhere *ha*. For only my Lord could probably bear my absurdities and despair, and perhaps I pray He will at least be the One to continue walking by my side.

Family and friends and people I love all have their roads to walk, and I'm beginning to accept these roads diverge. Once these temporal strings now holding me are gone, we will all have lives on separate roads. I wonder if I have that courage. I pray I do, and hope I will. For I wish only the best for all whose paths have came alongside mine thus far. And I pray I've only left lasting marks that would make you smile, and any other would be swept away by the sands of bastard time.

Perhaps, and it looks very soon, that my practical obligations should be settled and the road will open up for me to walk into that sunset.

Ratty Bulls

Yes, its beginning feel like last year farted a piece of turd for 2009.

While I have no utter belief in the zodiac, last year's rat year sure was ratty. And this year's bull is beginning to seem like it's going to hand me a nice big load of bullcrap as well. I can already feel the black clouds release a nice drizzle of piss.

The feeling of utter uselessness. Pointlessness. Of everything I do or say, or not say or not do. It basically leads only to throwing myself into another heap of dung.

I'm so tired, and filled with desires to meet a speeding bus head on. Though I frankly think that would only land me into yet another pile of shit.

Watching the Witching Hour

I watch the death throes of a diseased and despondent year. I watch it die in pain and wonder if I should smile. I wonder if it is dying from the pangs of painful labour, or is it a major bout of diarrhea.

I await to see with little hope, watching with eyes overgrown with cynicism. If in its dying push, would it birth a beautiful baby, or fart into existence, a little piece of shit.

Songs of the Morning

I've been woken up earlier than I would have wanted to, much more often than not, lately. Have you ever felt like dwelling longer in slumber and perhaps escape waking up to yet another day you wished you didn't have to see? Ever just wanted to sleep later, after a late night?

Then you might understand how incredibly happy people get, when they are rudely woken up in any circumstances.

Today, it was the sheer stupid inconsideration of a bridal procession. The noise made in a funeral procession has no qualms in silent curses, since the person is already dead anyway. But to drive in a procession of several cars into a carpark closely surrounded by HDB flats, in the wee hours of the morning, with every car honking away is just going to blow the fuses of the happy couple's neighbours, bathing their happy day with wishes they may not expect.

Tradition may call for loud noisy processions as the groom makes his way to the fetch his bride, but when you logically think about it, they have very good reason to do so. Ancient times saw people living faraway in possibly remote quarters, where the noise can aptly inform the bride and her family of the arriving groom and how soon they will be arriving.

These days. We have mobile phones. Need I say more?

This morning was the third I've experienced in such an early cacophony of honking vehicles, resulting in a rude awakening from a weekend slumber. I covered my head with pillows to muffle the noise which seemed to last forever. It isn't fun to wake up to a migraine. But I could feel it coming. I couldn't take it, I went to the window to look at the circus. I could feel the joy welling up inside me, similar to an untimely moment of diarrhea.

Then the noise got louder, this time a series of shouts and cheers from monkeys in suits who had gotten out and stood outside their cars, while the alpha male chimp strutted before them. Considering how happy they were in sharing their ape calls with everyone (no matter if the neighbourhood may actually need some quiet rest), it was only eventual that others may begin to join in the fun as well.

I could hear loud blessings coming from various windows around the carpark. Blessings of "KAO PEH LAH!"... "SHUT THE FUCK UP!!"... "DIAM LAH!!" (and one distinct anatomically correct description of the groom's mother) rang through the neighbourhood. It was a hard not to enjoy such raucous singing (some may even call it rapping or hip-hop) to show sincere appreciation to the monkeys' posturings. One can even imagine the background humming from a multitude of silent wishes and messages sent from other neighbours who may be too shy to publicly show their love.

The groom and his groomsmen must've been very touched by the neighbourhood's impromptu acapella performance in appreciation of their early morning wake up calls, as they stood there in silence, soaking in the love and attention of the rudely awakened neighbourhood.

I couldn't help but smile. I had almost wanted send them a congratulatory message by decorating their bridal car's windshield with a flower pot. But I was too lazy.

A Short Detour From Depression

Saw something as I made my way home earlier.

Stupid teenagers. Playing with the elevators. One seemed intent on slowing two others from going up and probably home. So he presses the button, everytime the lift nearly closes. Then he uses his foot. Then his hand. And ultimately, he peeks in. Yes, he didn't look very smart.

Yes, the door closes and does a fast clamp on his face. It opens almost immediately. And he groans as he squats by the door, holding his face. I think he broke his nose.

I wanted to help, I wanted to ask if he needed help. But I couldn't. I couldn't breathe. I was laughing too hard.

Sigh.

I think my morbid sense of humour is the only thing keeping me sane now. Or am I? Who cares. I felt alive for a moment. My life is in such a mess. I am absolutely in a mess, its almost laughable. I'm destroying everything I touch, and people I care for are probably among them. Perhaps I should just disappear. Sometimes, packing up that backpack and just walking off into the sunset is just so tempting.

Anyway, his friends pulled him into the elevator and probably brought him home. Yes, they couldn't stop giggling too.

Words. Just words.

Loss.
Defeat.
Failure.
Nothingness.
Bewilderment.
Depression.
Death.
Cowardice.
Tears.
Pain.
Self.
Destruction.
Loathing.
Fading light.
Fading will.
God.
Take me home.

Masks. And superficiality. That is all anyone will ever see.
I am not me. And for what I have left, I leave only for me.
For you. I shall be.
An illusion of what you want me to be.

And if even that is unsatisfactory.
I already know forever is not to be.
Perhaps oh Lord. In eternity.

Myself, my echo, my shadow.
Only true companions I know.