Cuteness Is Edible.

i've overheard people describing certain objects as cute - teddy bears, hamsters and people are acceptable - but what happens when it branches out to more questionable stuff?
various things i heard being described as cute were various cupcakes, jellies and the like.
even a care bear agar-agar cake.

AND TO ALL THE GULLIBLE AND HIGHLY IMPRESSIONABLE STUDENTS OUT THERE: cute does NOT mean ugly but adorable.
here are two commonly accepted definitions by the rest of the less gullible people (otherwise known as the rest of the world) :

1.	attractive, esp. in a dainty way; pleasingly pretty: a cute child; a cute little apartment.

2.	affectedly or mincingly pretty or clever; precious: The child has acquired some intolerably cute mannerisms.

would you eat something cute?

imagine this:
those shiny, beady eyes and that dainty little smile on that jelly baby glint at you as if they contained a little secret, and the ever-so-soft tummy gently pushes back as you prod it with your finger. it looks almost ready to giggle. its hands are raised in glee as it is lifted out of the packet and the chubby little thing looks almost like a little angel.

that is, until you tear the heart out of the jelly baby and eat it, along with its other assorted guts and limbs. and all the jelly baby can do is give you that cold, loving stare as it gets mutilated and devoured whole, crushed between grinding molars and carving canines. a silent scream echoes across the jelly-baby dimension and is suddenly cut short as its skull gets smashed into a million sticky pieces.

morbid, no?







heck, they still taste good.
give me the warm slightly beating heart of a jelly baby over a mundane gummy worm any day.

one has practically all that i've asked for
all one could possibly need
and yet one feels something
missing inside indeed

something to fill
that little empty space
but try as one might
it seems to be a sad, sad case.

somehow somewhere
as one stares beyond the gloom
there seems to be a light just beyond that
and yet the abyss just before spells doom

the light seems so beautiful
and yet one dares not go
for fear of falling into the chasm
and yet the light lures one so

so near yet so far
one's predicament seems oddly familiar
that funny little sensation of uneasiness
coupled with just a little tinge of fear

stuck here on this cliff of emotion
with nowhere else to tread
if only life was as simple
as buttering a piece of bread.




...this is retarded.
i'm off to dinner.

1-2-3

between the fabric of realities
if one searches, one might find
a mass of timelines and lifetimes
all like strings intertwined

and picking apart the strands
one might just see
the lifetime, the timeline
of the author of this poem, me.

and as i pick at my string
i begin to realise
that somehow somewhere it so happened
that my string was full of lies

my very existence was a fallacy
affect others it did not
removing my string would not make a difference
contrary to what i thought

making a difference
was something i never did
it would be so much better
if that string of mine were hid

somewhere somehow i wish
i had never existed from the start
then maybe the world would be a better place
and have one less lonely heart.

BoogaBooga.

Loveliness has never seen
a sweeter face
or heartwarming smile
or imperfection with such grace

time and again
it passes by
and i fear too
much to even try

in time it may
or not at all
either way
i'd still hit the wall.




...circumstances can kiss my butt.