Snore

i look into the brain cavity
but there's nothing i can find
i stare at those pale glassy orbs and
wonder how one could be so blind

running through the tall grass
searching for something never there
cuts and bruises when i fall
haplessly mauled by a bear

ducking and running for cover
amidst the bullets and shells
aged childish scrawling on a broken wall
seeking the stories it tells

awake at three in the morning
telling the tale of a nonexistent man
his struggle and eventual death
i tell the best stories i can

maybe i need some warm milk
probably a nice pillow too
sleep all the troubles away
in dreamland troubles are few

i never knew a dozen minus two
equated to eternity
just gotta hold on a while longer
before i let go of me

Boom Boom Pow

"G-get me a g-gun Bucky. I need to s-shoot someone. N-NOW!"

To My Dearly Beloved World Issues Group Members

lest i fall into
everlasting sleep
tell the good doctor
the slides from my body he can reap

my soul will be gone
but the slides will remain
at least next week
presentation marks you'll gain

and now i press on
every nerve in my body screaming
as i do the slides
as i lay dying

tell my story
the good and the bad
tell it truly
and do not be sad

for i have gone to a better place
a place on a distant star
during the presentation
i will not be far

press on.

Sleeping Child.

i was informed by my mother that the funeral at the void deck was for a 13-month old baby who passed away because of health complications.


13 months old.



thirteen.

months.

old.



the kid never got a chance to grow up, make friends, play with them, see the wonders of nature, attend school, experience the tumultuous teenage years, get attached, get married, have kids and watch them grow up and do the same, or grow old.


the kid skipped all that and went from being born, to being ill and dying.
straight from ashes to ashes and dust to dust with barely anything inbetween.





and then i look at the people who constantly bitch and whinge about how nobody understood them, how they have no friends, how difficult their life was and that sometimes they just wished they could end it all.

i look at the people who eat food and yet complain that the food's not good enough, that their house wasn't good enough for them, that they wished they didn't have to attend school or do assignments, that their results just weren't good enough.

i look at the people who complain about relationship issues and how they would constantly go in and out of them, lamenting their plight and how either gender was the worst thing on earth and how they would wish they could find the perfect one who would accede to all their wishes without imposing anything on them.




i look at the people who complain about life.






i spit on these people.

yes, i am aware i'm probably one of them.





bloody ingrates.




whatever happened to being contented?
whatever happened to "hey, things could have been worse, but they aren't! this is awesome!"

sometimes people get so caught up in their own conceited lives that they forget about the good things that happened and instead question why other good things didn't happen.

they get unhappy.

they get discontented.

they start to complain.



summed up for the intellectually challenged or the numbskulls that still haven't gotten the gist of this post:

shit happens.
when good things happen, lesser shit happens.
but it still happens.
instead of being thankful for lesser shit happening, one starts asking why even lesser shit doesn't happen.

this is where people need to get punched real hard in the face by reality.



once again i am made painfully aware of my hypocritical nature.








rest in peace, kid.
i never knew your name and have never seen your face.
maybe i'll catch up with you once i get up there.


if i get up there.

R.I.P
Jane Doe
Dec 2008 - Jan 2010
Gone too soon.

i've just taken what might be one of the most theraputic dumps in my life.

a dump.
a poop.
a crap.
big business.
or the traditional pangsai.

whatever one chooses to call it, one thing's for sure - a good poop is one of the little joys of life.





sitting there in your little sanctuary where all is quiet (except for maybe the little drip-drips that come outta nowhere in the toilet) and silence is comfortable.

in that moment, all the hustle and bustle just fade away into a faint murmur, and for one small window of time one can truly say one's mind is at peace in the day.

nobody's baying for your blood and asking you to vacate the ivory throne, and in that little moment there is complete serenity.

in that small yet weirdly cozy room, there's time to hear yourself think - and nothing to derail your train of thought.


well, aside from the chocolatey missiles impacting the surface of the water ever so often.







as one's body relieves itself of physical waste, one's mind starts to sort out the various bits and pieces and attempts to piece them together or trash them - it takes a crap too, in a sense.
only during these still, silent moments can one truly properly think about certain issues and deal with them.





it's like a dream somehow.





and then reality falls from the sky in a much-awaited dramatic entrance as it seeks to crush your castles in the sky and cause the rubble to fall in your eyes and blind you.

and one has to reluctantly grab those neatly cut squares of toilet paper, wipe the waste from one's bottom (both mentally and physically) sadly leave that little safe haven to return to the big, bad world outside.

life needs to have more moments like this.





people come and go, and my action figures may one day rot and burn.
my room may one day be desolated and will cease to be that cave i can hide in.
but that little toilet bowl will always be that one safe haven i can run to and relieve myself.


i'll be back, toilet.
and i know you'll be waiting.

Pain.

compared to the love on high
human love is merely
the tiniest fragment ever
the most laughable parody

loving, leaving and yet
not being able to say why
not being able to explain
maybe not even a goodbye

still it must happen
although it doth burn
the gates must be sealed
for there is still much to learn

the one comfort
alleviating all that i bear
is that in my heart i know
He is now and forever there

all these i count but loss
burying them with my pride
so that there may be spring there
and He is glorified.

The Garden

there was once a gardener
along with a few more
and a little park
of which he toiled for

the park was a delightful place
butterflies and flowers everywhere
small and quite unnoticed
it was peaceful there

day after day he
would run around to tend
the little flowers that grew
to remove the weeds from the land

despite the thorns and
the times he would stub his toe
he still did his job for
he loved the park so

the gardeners did their jobs
aided nature in its course
admiring the wonders and
giving thanks to their source

the park began to flourish
more and more people passed through
one by one they came
as the park's reputation grew

despite all the fame
the park started to sustain damage
the litter and pollution left behind
the graffiti and the garbage

the gardener was hard pressed
to undo the damage there
despite the work increasing
there was still concern and care

sadly enough the park got
dirtier as the days went by
the flowers started to wilt and
the butterflies started to die

the park's owners heard the news
and issued a decree
none were to set foot there
while it was fixed professionally

even the gardeners had to go
a time from which the decree was dated
when the gardener heard the news
he was utterly devastated

they were to leave until
the park had sufficiently healed
until further notice was given
the place was officially sealed

he understood little of
why this decree had to be
but the words were firm clear
so he packed his bags sadly

as the time drew nearer by the day
although there was such pain
he knew it was right and started to go
and it began to rain

the droplets pelting down
the stinging in his eyes
as he closed the gates
he turned to say his goodbyes

slowly as he left as he wondered
if this was the only way
but in his heart he knew this was right
maybe
just maybe
he could return someday.