tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61287738113528024422024-03-07T20:47:07.742-08:00For A Writer Without A Pencreateideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-56464324946793617222012-02-29T04:36:00.001-08:002012-02-29T04:36:53.231-08:00Another ChanceEvery day, it's another chance.<br />
<br />
I distinctly remember<br />
The reverie-like memory<br />
It was so pleasant, so perfect.<br />
Like the clouds in the sky.<br />
<br />
Though the time was short,<br />
Every second, I enjoyed.<br />
The talk between us,<br />
A natural smile.<br />
<br />
Every day, I track.<br />
It's always different.<br />
The times he leaves the MRT<br />
Varies too much.<br />
<br />
I couldn't loiter or wait.<br />
So unnatural, so ungentlemanly.<br />
Everyday I walk to school,<br />
My head half-turned. Was he there?<br />
<br />
Will we share <br />
Those willful moments again?<br />
Will the flowers blossom<br />
In our hearts and brains?<br />
<br />
I don't know.<br />
But every day, I try.<br />
It's a new day.<br />
A new try.<br />
<br />
Every day, it's another chance.createideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-16889420719454785532012-02-24T03:52:00.001-08:002012-02-24T03:52:12.284-08:00IceA heart of ice<br />
Stoned away<br />
It will never melt<br />
Only shattercreateideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-63166081376105246502012-02-23T03:11:00.002-08:002012-02-23T03:11:14.321-08:00PayThe heart is a fragile thing.<br />
A simple gesture will<br />
Cause it to shatter<br />
To a million shards.<br />
<br />
To you, it's nothing.<br />
Like a breeze blowing past.<br />
To me, it's a hurricane.<br />
A never-ending torrential storm<br />
<br />
Wanting to stash it<br />
To one side<br />
Without a second glance,<br />
But I can't.<br />
<br />
Bring it back.<br />
Yes, I'm screaming at you.<br />
Give me back<br />
What me I once possessed.<br />
<br />
Just let me know<br />
That I can live on.<br />
Just shed some light<br />
On this great mystery.<br />
<br />
You broke, you pay.<br />
You broke, you pay.<br />
You broke my heart,<br />
You pay for it.<br />
<br />
With your own.createideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-40589453969215857122012-02-22T07:05:00.001-08:002012-02-22T07:05:47.895-08:00SunsetA setting sun<br />
A ball of orange<br />
A glow of hope<br />
A calming warmthcreateideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-18298878177379687002012-02-13T03:21:00.001-08:002012-02-13T04:06:01.205-08:00A Lone ValentineIt's February 14<br />
<br />
I am sitting in my room alone again,<br />
<br />
Staring out at the beautiful colours painting the outside world.<br />
<br />
The glowing sun touches my skin, telling me I should not be there.<br />
<br />
But I was.<br />
<br />
The television was blaring some romance film I didn't care about.<br />
<br />
There was a fine tune playing about love. About happiness. About companionship. About friends.<br />
<br />
And suddenly the walls screeched at me, a scream so silent yet powerful.<br />
<br />
It was yelling at me, to not be there alone. To be with someone.<br />
<br />
But I can't.<br />
<br />
I was sitting on a half of a love seat, still wishing for someone to sit next to me.<br />
<br />
My arms were desperately searching for someone to hold on to.<br />
<br />
I felt the need of a proper embrace again, one I had not felt for a long time.<br />
<br />
I wished I could caress someone on my chest.<br />
<br />
I wished I could find a human pillow to lie on.<br />
<br />
We'd talk, forever and ever.<br />
<br />
To most, this is a day to celebrate the love.<br />
<br />
To me, it is a day to celebrate loneliness.<br />
<br />
It is a lone Valentine.<br />
<br />
Again.createideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-50746255819122194412012-02-09T23:29:00.000-08:002012-02-09T23:29:12.591-08:00Acceptance<iframe width="480" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/KU6zPGQvbYE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
<br />
I remember the times<br />
When I was young<br />
And my kindergarten teacher told me,<br />
“It’s okay to be different.”<br />
<br />
“It’s okay to be yourself.<br />
Everyone is special.<br />
Everyone is unique.<br />
It’s okay to be different.”<br />
<br />
I want to tell her<br />
That she was wrong.<br />
It’s not okay to be different,<br />
Not when no one wants to be.<br />
<br />
I am fourteen.<br />
I walk down the school corridors,<br />
Keeping my face low.<br />
I don’t want to be seen.<br />
<br />
I know that if I was seen,<br />
I would be laughed at.<br />
People would call me names,<br />
They would throw stuff at me.<br />
<br />
Some others would throw me malicious glares,<br />
Daggers that pierce through my every cell.<br />
No one will speak to me.<br />
I am alone.<br />
<br />
To some, I was invisible.<br />
To some, I was inhuman.<br />
To some, I was food.<br />
To some, I was psycho.<br />
<br />
Whenever school ended,<br />
I would take the train home.<br />
See people chat on the train,<br />
And get jealous.<br />
<br />
Why couldn’t I have friends?<br />
Why couldn’t I be human?<br />
If I am myself,<br />
People would kill me.<br />
<br />
When I reach home,<br />
I am always in a black room.<br />
There is no light<br />
For a better tomorrow.<br />
<br />
Every day is the same.<br />
I should not exist.<br />
Everyone tells me that,<br />
In their silent stares.<br />
<br />
Since when was it okay to be different?<br />
If you’re different, you’ll end up like me.<br />
You will not have a voice.<br />
You will not have a heart.<br />
<br />
It is a world of darkness.<br />
A world where people on magazine covers are the most perfect.<br />
A world where dreams are cut short before they can even begin.<br />
A world where the silence screams to make you silent.<br />
<br />
Can someone just help me?<br />
Break out of this traumatic state.<br />
Let me be myself,<br />
Without this disaster.<br />
<br />
Someone, listen to my voice.<br />
Someone, reach out for my hand.<br />
Someone, give me a taste of life.<br />
Someone, paint the colours of my world.<br />
<br />
Help. Help.<br />
Someone help.createideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-71665364856238841642012-02-09T23:07:00.001-08:002012-02-09T23:07:25.624-08:00RunI want to run.<br />
Fly somewhere far, far away<br />
From this dreaded place.<br />
And never ever come back.<br />
<br />
How can the presence of someone<br />
Make such a huge difference?<br />
My tears are suddenly dry<br />
From trying to cry.createideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-31319219452218971482012-02-07T23:29:00.001-08:002012-02-07T23:29:38.601-08:00SelfCan I recreate myself?<br />
The self I lost<br />
To the unstoppable forces<br />
Of emotion?createideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-28026343331674062632012-01-29T03:15:00.001-08:002012-02-07T23:30:27.916-08:00ClosetI was staring at the blue sky again. Thinking. Mulling. Pondering. In front of me, I could see a building, shining a bright gold. When I looked at the clouds, I could see a face. A face I had encompassed my thoughts in these past few weeks.<br />
<br />
I had not noticed someone creep up behind me. “Hey,” he sat, next to me. I could see his eyes were as dense as most. I turned, and looked at him. Though I was a day older, he was taller. Larger. Perhaps it was due to the upbringing. He hadn’t a potbelly like mine. “Just thinking some stuff,” I answered.<br />
<br />
“Life in Singapore must be hard, huh,” I heard him clack open a canned drink, then gulp. I was sure that wasn’t beer. He was not even sixteen yet.<br />
<br />
“Yeah, it is.” I agreed. Above me, the clouds morphed into a face I was thinking of. Speak to me, I pleaded to the clouds. Speak to me again. Of course, I knew my pleas would never reach him.<br />
<br />
“Let’s head inside,” he suggested. We both walked into the company around the rectangular table and sat down. I could hear the sound of the folding of paper. The notes to be burnt to heaven. I joined in, letting my delicate fingers gently push against the golden pieces. Suddenly, the discussion was about me.<br />
<br />
“Max,” I heard my fourth uncle speak. He was the cheery one, always making jokes, even at such a sorrowful occasion. How suitable for him to be the one changing the focus of attention to me. “Do you have a girlfriend?”<br />
<br />
I jolted. A question I had never prepared myself for. What do I say? What do I say? I could feel the audience noticing my pause. I shrugged in response. “No, I guess.”<br />
<br />
“Then--” he was cut short by my eldest cousin. “Are you gay?”<br />
<br />
More stares. I hated that question. It was against my moral values to define my sexuality. But nobody around the table knew that. So I had to play along like a tame little puppy.<br />
<br />
The audience seemed to notice my hesitation, and translated it as unwanted news. Fourth Uncle was first to break the ice. “We won’t blame you,” he said. I could see the eyes around the room fill themselves with a simple want to know. I could tell they really wouldn’t blame me if I was. That was what their eyes showed. Never doubt someone’s eyes. At least I knew these were my family, the people who would accept me no matter what colour I wore, what I become. They would respect whatever life I chose, as long as I was a good person.<br />
<br />
My eldest cousin taunted again. He acted all fairy-like. “I mean, we wouldn’t mind, yeah?” I managed to smile at that stereotypical image of gay people. At least I knew I wasn’t like that.<br />
<br />
I closed my eyes, winced again at the image of the perfection of my dreams, then whispered, “I guess I’ll never know until I experience it.”createideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-50937852286009794082012-01-27T06:48:00.003-08:002012-01-27T06:48:52.921-08:00DifferencePeople tell us<br />
That we should strive to be different,<br />
And yet,<br />
We all want to be 'normal'.createideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-28835325540608178402012-01-27T06:48:00.001-08:002012-01-27T06:48:10.195-08:00RoutineA human life,<br />
Is just a routine.<br />
You do the same things over and over,<br />
With some differences.createideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-12259206537535389392012-01-27T03:59:00.001-08:002012-01-27T04:01:38.464-08:00TortureLet me shroud myself in a cloak,<br />
And stab myself with a dagger.<br />
Let me burn on the fuel,<br />
And don't extinguish the fire.createideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-77568242140902789652012-01-27T03:30:00.001-08:002012-01-27T04:01:26.243-08:00StarsThe last time I looked out at stars<br />
I was thinking,<br />
Why was life<br />
So much like the sky?<br />
<br />
The blackness represented the void,<br />
Where nothing happens.<br />
Where nothing grows.<br />
Where no life breathes.<br />
<br />
In this void,<br />
We meet different people.<br />
These people<br />
Are the stars.<br />
<br />
They slowly enter our life<br />
And fill up the void.<br />
Throughout our years,<br />
They become constellations.<br />
<br />
When you meet your soul mate,<br />
That person will outshine<br />
All the other stars<br />
And become our sun.<br />
<br />
This sun becomes<br />
A half of our world.<br />
It shines in the day,<br />
Makes all the stars disappear.<br />
<br />
But when it is night,<br />
The sun is gone.<br />
The stars are back again.<br />
Shining like before.<br />
<br />
But sometimes,<br />
When we are still forever in the night,<br />
We crush the stars<br />
That filled our universe.<br />
Extinguishing their every light.<br />
<br />
Before they shine could try to shine brighter,<br />
They get crushed.<br />
We pick them out,<br />
One by one,<br />
And throw them into black holes.<br />
<br />
These stars that we throw,<br />
Will never become invisible.<br />
They will still be there.<br />
Shining in another person’s night sky.createideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-51765374580320255182012-01-21T04:25:00.001-08:002012-01-21T04:25:57.996-08:00BeginningsWhen we begin a piece,<br />
It always starts with something familiar.<br />
But when we move on,<br />
We can't seem to move on.createideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-73919013705431774582012-01-19T00:33:00.000-08:002012-01-19T00:33:12.419-08:00Double Confession<a title="View Double Confession on Scribd" href="http://www.scribd.com/doc/78730349/Double-Confession" style="margin: 12px auto 6px auto; font-family: Helvetica,Arial,Sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 14px; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; -x-system-font: none; display: block; text-decoration: underline;">Double Confession</a><iframe class="scribd_iframe_embed" src="http://www.scribd.com/embeds/78730349/content?start_page=1&view_mode=list&access_key=key-1k8smur0uj6rsp1jc57p" data-auto-height="true" data-aspect-ratio="0.706697459584296" scrolling="no" id="doc_20947" width="100%" height="600" frameborder="0"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">(function() { var scribd = document.createElement("script"); scribd.type = "text/javascript"; scribd.async = true; scribd.src = "http://www.scribd.com/javascripts/embed_code/inject.js"; var s = document.getElementsByTagName("script")[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(scribd, s); })();</script>createideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-49733294545725176022012-01-16T07:27:00.001-08:002012-01-16T15:53:03.185-08:00Double Confession - Sneak Peek<a title="View Double Confession - Sneak Peek on Scribd" href="http://www.scribd.com/doc/78418937/Double-Confession-Sneak-Peek" style="margin: 12px auto 6px auto; font-family: Helvetica,Arial,Sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 14px; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; -x-system-font: none; display: block; text-decoration: underline;">Double Confession - Sneak Peek</a><iframe class="scribd_iframe_embed" src="http://www.scribd.com/embeds/78418937/content?start_page=1&view_mode=list&access_key=key-1wgv5qud5rcty5x0bluj" data-auto-height="true" data-aspect-ratio="0.706697459584296" scrolling="no" id="doc_19878" width="100%" height="600" frameborder="0"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">(function() { var scribd = document.createElement("script"); scribd.type = "text/javascript"; scribd.async = true; scribd.src = "http://www.scribd.com/javascripts/embed_code/inject.js"; var s = document.getElementsByTagName("script")[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(scribd, s); })();</script>createideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-28155511491885368802012-01-14T08:30:00.001-08:002012-01-14T08:30:22.445-08:00ChangeI know.<br />
People change.<br />
But can't you at least see<br />
The NOW me?createideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-50006429761357325572012-01-13T22:01:00.001-08:002012-01-13T22:01:31.629-08:00Confession<a title="View Confession on Scribd" href="http://www.scribd.com/doc/78219685/Confession" style="margin: 12px auto 6px auto; font-family: Helvetica,Arial,Sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 14px; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; -x-system-font: none; display: block; text-decoration: underline;">Confession</a><iframe class="scribd_iframe_embed" src="http://www.scribd.com/embeds/78219685/content?start_page=1&view_mode=list&access_key=key-277nzxsco37lgjzksr9y" data-auto-height="true" data-aspect-ratio="0.706697459584296" scrolling="no" id="doc_78671" width="100%" height="600" frameborder="0"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">(function() { var scribd = document.createElement("script"); scribd.type = "text/javascript"; scribd.async = true; scribd.src = "http://www.scribd.com/javascripts/embed_code/inject.js"; var s = document.getElementsByTagName("script")[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(scribd, s); })();</script>createideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-41922589667078392372012-01-11T04:39:00.001-08:002012-01-11T04:39:18.930-08:00ClingNails scratch<br />
A long, resounding screech,<br />
On something I shouldn't be<br />
Clinging on.createideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-6019991273937153632012-01-09T05:08:00.003-08:002012-01-09T05:13:03.047-08:00ControlI don't mind you<br />
Twisting me around your fingers.<br />
Just don't<br />
Drop me<br />
When you're done.createideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-6202318647983267422012-01-09T05:08:00.001-08:002012-01-09T05:08:18.316-08:00ForgetForget?<br />
Oh, how I wish I could.<br />
But then again,<br />
I wouldn't want to.createideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-73854616122475693102012-01-09T05:07:00.003-08:002012-01-09T05:12:08.335-08:00DetailsWhen you're close,<br />
You notice<br />
Every one of his<br />
Minute details.createideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-18187973666239088262012-01-09T05:07:00.001-08:002012-01-09T05:07:35.791-08:00Heart BreakTo say the pain<br />
Is like standing on fire,<br />
And drowned by the big blue sea,<br />
Is really an understatement.<br />
<br />
Death was not<br />
Worst than<br />
The torture<br />
Of heartbreak.createideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-30751240820908943222012-01-06T07:11:00.001-08:002012-01-06T07:12:22.808-08:00ReminderHis isolated presence<br />
Is a constant reminder<br />
That I have him<br />
No more.createideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6128773811352802442.post-63310088274686651482012-01-06T07:10:00.003-08:002012-01-06T07:12:14.918-08:00MomentWill I<br />
Still have these<br />
Good dreams<br />
Tomorrow?<br />
<br />
Can't the time<br />
Just freeze<br />
So this moment would last<br />
An eternity?<br />
<br />
Forever in bliss<br />
Is completely<br />
Different from<br />
Forever in torture<br />
<br />
I don't want<br />
To imagine<br />
The future<br />
For it goes downhill.<br />
<br />
So<br />
Just let this moment<br />
Go on<br />
Indefinitely.<br />
<br />
Don't stop.<br />
Please, don't stop.<br />
Please, just don't stop.<br />
Please, just don't stop now...createideashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11157452688907239628noreply@blogger.com0