Through The Looking Glass

*NOTE: This is not to be marked!! I posted this just for the fun of it!*

***

We look in
They look out
Those meanings say nothing
Those voices mean to the world as gold

Those messages, those words
Were only spoken from outsiders
Who cares not
Of our deep indifferences

We sing inwardly
They yell outwardly
Their eyes catch a fleeting image
Our eyes sigh in reverence from the unseen

We are not ghosts of the air
We are not the deceased
We are the unruly living
The Minds that truly speak.

The Drabbling Of A Very Bored Blogger

*Sigh* Once again I have procrastinated and am stuck with absolutely no topics in mind that’s worth presenting. So, (don’t worry, it won’t happen all the time) enjoy this story I made up. Maybe it’ll become a sort of background to a novel I’ll make in the future. Ms. Jess I promise that next week I’ll think of something else worth writing!!!

Dawn was waking, the dark rebelled its dominating warmth. A cold drift was swirling in this place, a look of the haunted reflected from the moon’s soft rays. Silence spread through the swampland and desert ways as quick and relentless as a wildfire. Soft croaks and echoes of voices could be heard from deep within the trees, radiating of memories long past.

The air was cool, piercing to the skin, but was quite moist and calm but from the ominous atmosphere coming in from deep within the ancient woods. From somewhere in the deep forest, an owl was heard hooting, its eyes bulged, its wings wrapped tight around its feathered body. It was soon silenced by the scolding darkness that challenged its rule.

In the middle of this bog, this wasteland, a stained, decrepit building stood high above the ground. Moss surrounded it; the smell of it left resemblance of the dead corpses that were flung into the hidden caverns and hiding places of the deep. Lights were seen to have flashed on and off during the winter; a further sign that the forest was alive and awake, filled with disfigured creatures of the night. This haunting feeling left even the bravest of men unable to respond to its taunting lure of death.

Many thought to have passed this place without trouble; others were thought to have been brutally killed. They were of course, rumours, but they were enough to frighten more than just children and creatures of the wild. They were just more to allow the sunken place its own ground of privacy.

On the other hand, there is a way in which the deceitful man had long forgotten to pass through this treacherous land. Beneath the whispering willows, between the roots that follow, a road was paved in the dirt. Gnomes and odd creatures of the dark were alleged to have built this mystery lane, but no one had ever seen such things for an endless set of ages. Rocks and potholes covered its ground; dripping waters ran along the trees’ branches and into the earth. Musical songs echoed its gateways with its long stanzas and rhymes.

Long before men wandered the world, such celebrations were made upon the coming of winter, the wet dew of spring, the blooming of summer and the wilting of fall. But all of that ceased to exist. Whispers and secrets buried the creatures alive in their hate and sorrow. If they were ever to come to the surface, to seek out what lies above, the sun and the moon would surely destroy them all, sending their hated souls to the underworld to be judged. For centuries upon centuries, worlds within worlds passed by time and yet the road remained undisturbed.

Until Now.

A rackety cart drove by this lane; it was carrying something more than what was expected. A man steered the mule in front, his eyes darted to and fro from fear. His clothes were torn, sprayed with blood; his head was wrapped with worn bandages. He continued to look back into the cart and his black fear began to grow. He whipped the poor animal in front of him with anxiety and the mule galloped as fast as its legs were able to carry, which wasn’t at all swift.

Moans, whines and whimpers could be softly heard within the remains of the cart. The driver peered back and cursed. The sun was slowly emerging from the horizon and light slowly crept into the ends of the swamp land. The man gripped his blackened jacket tighter and prodded the mule to quicken its pace. The man felt sweat coming down his beaten face, his hands were now shaking. The reins he held tightly in his hands were beginning to slip and tangle with his fingers.

Time was against them.

The lane was now narrowing and soon a sharp bend was seen. Many had already gone over its edge, falling mercilessly into the ravine tucked safely underneath it. The driver, now blinded by his distress and alarm from the sun's apperance, did not realize what a speed he had handled the mule with. By the time he had absorbed the dangers of the nearby bend, it was already upon him. With his life on the line, he pulled on the reins and held on for dear life.

The mule, who responded to the order dumbly, lifted its forelegs high in the air before it collapsed into the ditch beside the lane. The cart, in its still heavy weight, pulled it down; the reins were nonetheless held increasingly rigid by the old man. The mule, terrified at this peril, tried in vain to keep its balance steady to withstand the pressure brought down on it. The cart soon dragged it down into the darkness below, its frightened brays left unnoticed from the outside.

A sudden clamour of noise echoed throughout the swamp land. Pieces of dark wood was scarred and embedded into the ground, blood was spilt on the trees. At the bottom of the hill the doomed cart lay in an endless pool of red and of wood and of scattered debris left behind by dead carcasses. On the edge of the blood-stained area a brown sheet of cloth lie in tatters. When one looks close enough, they could see a small fist hanging from beneath the sheets.

Voices unexpectedly arose in chatter and screeches. The forest filled with trees of obscurity now was filled with red glowing eyes. Their pitches vibrated throughout the lands, haunting travellers as they go. As the chants of their primitive but penetrating ways increased in volume, a head of green came out of the burnt trees; its disfigured hands held each a dagger. Shadows were darting to and fro the forest, dark figures clamouring close and dispersing into the ominous gloom. Suddenly, the dreaded creature appeared out of its hiding place among the forest dark, its grotesque face contorting with pleasure.

Gigantic, hovering and with a posture of ruthless authority, the green devil roared. The other glowing eyes that hid in the dark were wounded by its calls. The ground shook; the mountains were forced out of their own territory. The swamplands then endured a silence that would have cut even a million soldiers in two.

Another head stuck out, its red eyes bulged in the same repulsive manner, its mouth wide open. A place colour of yellow could be seen in its mouth, a strange red colour stood in its fangs. Its ears were demented, its colour unchanging though the shadows blocked most of its figure. Soon many others jumped out of the darkness called their home and surrounded the mess of debris the cart had made. With another shriek, the revolting and atrocious giant that appeared whole first picked up a dead man by the head and laughed. The green monsters then began looking, hunting. Soon, more bodies were found; dead by the impact of the cart. They all shrieked in unison at their finds.

As the party of beasts continued to feast on the blood that poured upon them, the brown cloth that miraculously landed far from the cart was discovered. Safely concealed in overgrown bushes, the small piece of cloth lay there with stillness until a white endless stream of light neared it. A gloved hand came down and searched the bushes. After sometime, it felt a figure, a body, a shape and the hand lifted the covers of the cloth in frantic desperation. A gasp escaped from the man and his hand trembled slightly. A baby, with its forehead spilling with blood, was breathing; the poor thing was alive! Another hand quickly shot out and bundled the tiny babe in a new piece of cloth. The man gathered the small thing in his arms and swiftly, slyly manoeuvred across the forest.

Dawn was now illuminating its boundaries and expanding its warmth. The forest now burst into colours as flowers, plants and animals alike took their heads out of their hiding place to witness the war won by the light over darkness. The man, however, was in no mood to celebrate.

Cloaked with a long hooded mantle, the eager man ran elegantly but dangerously up the hills to where the lane was located. He knew of the dangers if he were to be caught. He also knew of the many enemies that hunted for him day and night. He clutched the tiny babe tighter and continued to jog up the unstable hillsides. Rocks began to slide from above him and he climbed the rest of the way with the baby wrapped in a bundle behind his back. Slowly and with pain, the man reached the top of the bend and dashed out of the tunnels and dripping trees. This was a place of evil and no one had been able to escape its claws for long.

Soundlessly, the man inconspicuously treaded the roadway, arousing the dust to swirl and fade away as he ran. He reached the end of the road and stepped into the bushes beside. Chanting was softly heard from afar and soon enough a band of horrendous soldiers marched like dead wraiths with their glowing eyes. The man crouched and leaned against the safety of the leaves that hid him and the babe, praying that they would not be discovered.

He held his breath as each row of soldiers passed his place, his arms coiled around his thin body that enabled him to crouch in positions a bulked man cannot. Droning sounds reached to his ears, buzzing music zoomed past by him. The ground shook, the trees moaned in pain and the man was thrown deeper into the forest by an unnatural force. The baby, still attached to his back, stumbled along with him into the darkness that bound them keep.

So what do you think? To be honest, I wrote this from the previous months…I had to do a major makeover, though, on the entire thing and had to edit most of its grammar…Anyway, hoped you enjoyed it!

OS-Girls/OS-Tan - Personification of our beloved Operating System!

I somehow managed to run into these during my leisure time browsing for a better OS (Operating System) and in a search for an extra-efficient software. Immediately after watching (and witnessing the glory of Japanese pop culture), I trash my attempt, and am in love with my current OS!

This might be good 'eye-candy' to some boys (to my dissapointment, most A1-HL students were female) and, probably, prevent you from constantly harrassing and raping your PC and your OS! You'll get what I mean after you read further...

Meet the OS-girls (or OS-Tan in Japanese)! These young ladies were direct personification of your beloved Operating System-you get me: Microsoft Windows series! First off, what is 'OS-Tan'?

BTW: 'Tan' is a Japanese suffix-a mispronounciation of 'chan' and is an informal, diminutive, and intimate honorific suffix use for friends, families, or pets in Japan.

OS-Tan is an internet phenomenon originated in Japan's Futaba Channel (an image board dealing with Japan's otakuness and underground pop culture-similair to 4chan, yet much older). They are the personification of several Operating System (hence, OS)-typically Microsoft Windows-by various amateur Japanese artists. But don't let it fool you! Each and every OS-tans' personality depicted its Microsoft Windows OS flaws and plusses, and they're personality were thoroughly consistent despite varying artists! They were commonly depicted as sisters with varying age.

So without further adieu, I'll gladly introduce you to the Microsoft Windows Sisters!

Meet 98-tan! Representitive of Windows 98, and the youngest of the Microsoft Windows sisters (or depicted as the youngest). She's depicted in a white and blue uniform that includes the Windows logo as part of a neck tie, navy blue hair, and a "98" hair clip. Did I mentioned 'they'? No? Surprise, surprise! They are a pair of young girls-precisely, twins. The sister of 98-tan is no other than 98SE-tan (right picture) and though depicted as twins, 98SE-tan wears a green sailor uniform with the logo 'SE' plastered on the front. They're also accompanied by two crayon-decorated pocky boxes that serves as their weapon and their 'mech' (parody for Gundam)

This here is Me-tan, a hard working character yet unstable, and is found often 'crashing', 'freezing', went out of control, and failing at almost everything she do-concluded with the irritation of her sisters. Besides her clumsiness, she is depicted to have a lack of common sense by performing illiterate actions such as microwaving a can of soda or using spring onions/scallions as a weapon of defence. Ironically, the personification of Microsoft Windows Millenium Edition (hence Me) is true to the OS-Tan; criticized to own many unnecessary and useless affiliations, as well as the difficulty it gives for user to install it, run it, getting it to work with other softwares, and lastly-getting it to stop running. She is commonly pictured with green hair and pigtails, wearing a maid outfit with a '!' branded on its chest in the spirit of Window's 'Restore Desktop' icon or the yellow error icon. She is also pictured to possess the power of 'The Blue Screen of Death' (Crash).

Behold! My OS and the OS-tan representing it! Meet XP-tan! She is the sister of the degraded Me-tan and is depicted wearing an 'XP' hair decoration. With the criticism of Windows XP for 'bloating a system and being very preety without being so useful', she is often drawn wearing tight clothes and large *coughcough* breasts. Not only that, she is known to have an-with reference to Windows XP's memory usage-appetite and is sometimes pictured eating or holding an empty rice bowl labeled 'memory'. The twin sister of her, XP Home or 'Homeko' is depicted with green hair in short ponytails with two large 'XP'-shaped hairclips covering her ears. Homeko-tan comes with a glasses, and a slightly different personality than XP-tan.

The intelligent, reserved, and professional of all the sisters is no other than 2K-tan; the representation of Microsoft Windows 2000. She is drawn and depicted with short blue hair, glasses, and hair ornaments resembling cat ears flanking a smaller maid's bonnet with Window's logo. Often found wearing Japanese swim suit and a long blue coat as a standard uniform, and possess as broad sword as her weapon of choice. Due to the popularity of Windows 2K as the most common, stable, and dependable OS-as well as the stability it presents-2K-tan is shown as the guardian of the sisters-specifically Me-tan, found often stressing her and the her sisters due to Me-tan's erratic actions. Though reserved, 2K-tan is known as a caring OS-tan by her sisters. She is commonly found lingering with XP-tan and Me-tan and are three of the most favoured OS-tan (Me-tan, XP-tan, 2K-tan).

The eldest, and the most gentle-looking OS-tan out of all the sisters. 95-tan is pictured wearing a traditional kimono, commonly worn by college student during the Meiji-Taisho era of Japan-the modernization of Japan. She uses a ribbon bearing the four colors of windows, and uses a geta-a Japanese traditional sandal-as her footwear. This, in fact, is also a reference to the modernization of Windows in 1998. She is often seen wielding a Katana-in which it symbolizes that in her time (1998), Microsoft Windows achieved full dominance of the PC Market. Other than her physical appearance, she is often engaged in tea ceremonies, preparing and serving meals, as well as doing other housework-in reference to the usefulness of Windows 98. However, she is known to have the unfamiliarity of post-Windows 98 technologies such as USB devices and broadband internet connections.

...And that's all the 'Microsoft Windows sisters'! Of course, I could kept blabbing about other OS-tan like MAC-Tan (MAC OS X), Dr. Symantec (Symantec Anti-Virus), and XBox-tan or Wii-tan-all starring in an imaginary Anime series 'Troubled Windows'. With the introduction of these imaginary characters, I do hope we're encouraged to care for our PC and-especially-our OS more.

Here's a fan-made video showing all computer-based OS-tan! (with extra buffed Bill Gates!)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1nmwjQnJhBQ&mode=related&search=

Hypocrite.

Note: If you only skim through it, you'll find the message unclear. If you analyze it, you'll still find the message conveyed through this poem quite vague. It's my thoughts on things that happened a few days ago. Oh, and the cat's a personification of something.

Enjoy!

This is your code.
You respect and live by it.

You earn it; gain it.

And you promise never to lose it.

Ever.

You lock it up deep in your soul.

You thought: "If one were to have it, one'd have to earn it."

And we all did.

But was it worth the time?

You held it up high so the world can see

that this is what they should call: a good example,

a worthy trait, a priceless gift;

an essence so pure, so heartwarming.

It strengthen friendships, and weaken enemies,

it produces smiles, and wipes off tears.

It's yours, and ours.

You'll never let go of it, never forsake it.

Ever.

Then another came, attracting your attention.

A beautiful murderer, as souless as Death.

It glided towards you as it touches your skin ever so slightly;

and it landed on your lap, innocently purring.

You held and caressed it, taking notice of its appearance;

forgetting all about it, discarding it. Breaking a promise.

Shocking as it may be, you took it and fed it

to your new friend, the cat.

The cat has its trait, its essence, its similarities.

But it was far from perfect; too inferior.

Still, you were blinded by its mystery.

Your fascination grew like weeds.

You threw it away for a feline friend,

have you gone mad, child?

Time changes the soul, they say.

Does this imply to you too?

Meticulously,

the feline watches your every move.

You've made a mistake, and you'll have to pay the price.

So watch out, dear child, watch out.

What's the point?

Right at this very moment, I wonder. What is the point of life? The point of all this hard work in IB and the painful so-called relationships we have each day? Simply to have those special great rare days that seems so far from me right now?

I'm at lost for words, cause it simply isn't enough for me. So I am selfish, we all are. Life at this point isn't enough, as students going through IB shouldn't we go through it with a firm foundation of assurance and a mind set. Where have mine gone? I've turned bitter and dark; the hope that use to illuminated all around seem to have all disappeared and I'm left with only bits and pieces of my life. Where have I gone wrong?

I use to be that small girl running around with nothing to worry about and full with the vest for life. That girl who has the smile to brighten anyones day, the smile that infects everyone around her to do the same. Happy that that bright smiling girl is happy.

I use to love like I've never loved before. To love openly and freely. To be unafraid of the consequences and pain love might bring into my life. I was that girl, happy to give and receive whatever the world throws at me, with an open heart and a pure soul. I realize now what a fool I was, how oblivious I was to those that was right in front of me.

Where am I, Lord? I've ran away from everything that has came close to me. Not wanting, unyielding, I want no one else but You. Cause I know You won't hurt me, I know You'll protect me, I know that I'll be safe with You.

I'm lost... I long for the day I'll spend eternity in the paradise You've made me.

Parental actions and its Reflections

Procrastination and procrastinator~! Isn't it the greatest word to describe this small little entry and-to an extent-the writters of this blogspot (no offense meant)?


Oh well, rather than spending my time on chit-chatting mindless idiocy, might as well get to the point.

A few days ago, a friend of mine confronted me and asks for a council. Knowing him/her fully, I decided to give this a go-in hopes I didn't screw his/her life even further.

The conversation occupies a whole lunch period (good thing we brought lunch), as well as an additional 2 minute from the 5 minute countdown to class. It didn't bother me, really-what bothers me is the fact on why he/she confronted me for.

Parents. They are your source, your origin. The two figure who breathe life into you and raise you in such a way that someday you too, would achive success in a distant future and breathe life to another. Yet how far do they impact our life? Our personality? Our way of thinking...?

They are characters (besides friends and foes) who set examples to you, in hopes that you too would be as much like them-or better, excels them.


...But what if such examples were in a form of abuse? What if they 'enslave' you? How would you feel? How would you react?

For years, never have I caught wind of any ill-fated child under the constant oppression and abusement of parents-and to confront one in reality. Knowing and acknowledging the fact that this is in our school community disturbs me greatly.

I have known him/her for years, and by know I can vaguely picture the reason 'why' he/she has little or no friends at all. Some reports I've heard consists on how he/she treated others-some says he/she is rude to an intollerable extent. I confronted him/her to reason with and eventually, this is where I came to be.

In one way or another, your father or mother is reflected through you-there is no deny to it. If a parent teach they're offsprings with terror, then they (the offspring) will give terror. If a parent teach they're offsprings to fear, then they will plague others with fear. But if a parent teach they're offsprings with love, then they will present love.

If a parent abuse you, teach you how to fear and respect them using physical power and verbal degradation of a status, then you too would unknowingly abuse and degrade others without second thoughts-acceptable or not. If they treated you with constant verbal humiliation, mockings, and discouragement then you will then treat others with constant verbal humiliation, mockings, and discouragement. Or in a second effect, the thought of how low you are would haunt you.

From here, a social outcast is born from the midst of the constant mockings, discouragement, and both physical and verbal degradation given by your parents-the person you wish and seek for help the most in times of need.
Is the effect reversible? It is. As parents are the foundation that influences us, friends became the number 1 influencing source. As you grow older, you would spend time longer with your friends than your family; and this is where they play major part in your life developing you-whether good or bad.
But are such actions simple? It isn't. Social outcasts tends to be socially clueless, and would prefer to be seeked than to seek-a trait that both benefits and decimates the character. They would tend to be avoided, and if they do socialize it wouldn't take long for them to evolve into a public enemy-either by word, or treatment.

By now, I am unsure on what to do in an attempt to reach out and guide him/her to better sociallize. An attempt that seems futile, yet has a 10-20% success rate possibility. As for this time, I have noticed how limited his/her allies are; which is a possible reason as one of the obstacle to why he/she has a hard time sociallizing. Then again, the traces on why he/she is leads to the way his/her parents treatment.


As a quote says somewhere: "We are, after all, cheap copies of our parents"

What The Future Holds

*Yeah, so I procrastinated this week’s blog, so again forgive me this very bad entry because I seriously am writing as I go along with absolutely no structure in mind. Just a warning*

Ten, twenty years from now, where would we all be? The sheer thought of the future somewhat seem daunting, at least to me. In perfect honesty, I often wonder where I would be three, four years ahead of my life, confused whether I am ready to journey on to womanhood and grapple the task of being an adult. At the present moment, high school is taking up my life, consuming my time and filling the gaps of boredom which I normally would have felt during an idle summer. Where and what I would do when I finally graduate, finish university, with all that supposed free time on my hands?

I have to admit, the future involves, for me, a shrouded and blurry vision of what I assumed I would be. All my hopes and dreams; would they come true or would they turn into an impossibility that I cannot but help follow? Not only that, would I be able to handle the various responsibilities which would fall and ask of me as soon as I turn into an adult? The future holds nothing but uncertainties and I often worry about it, wondering if I spent my life accordingly and to the full so that when I die, I would have at least left some mark upon the world.

In times when I feel melancholy and anxious about whether or not I was ready to confront the future, it is also equally comforting to realize that God had planned all of this life for me, that I don’t have to worry, and that I don’t have to be anxious about what I was called to do. To some, this type of thinking that a God created a mould in which we are to fill is restrictive and an awful way to live out life.

On the contrary, I know that if there is a God who plans and knows where our lives would lead, it would be sufficient enough to trust him. Of course, the future lies in our hands as the saying goes, “God helps those who help themselves”. The trouble is that many of our mistakes and bungles committed in this life would cost us happiness and our dreams and hopes. That mainly is the reason why I worry about the future; the wonder whether or not I would be able to make the right decisions and choices without costing them my chances of success in life!

At present, assignments, tests and homework dominate my life. When I was younger, I desired for school to end, and now I do not even have to wish for the next holiday to come when it is already upon me. I was caught unaware due to the mounts of work we have to do which quickened the weeks. Now, the prospect of facing the future is inevitable. Soon, all of us Grade 11s would tackle EE, panic over exams, and finally, apply to universities which would determine our separate pathways. What would happen next after that? Would some of us apply for jobs and become successful? Or would the rest simply go on with their lives, applying for more universities to become doctors, lawyers or other work? The future holds so many uncertainties that I am glad that at least one knows where I would be and what I would be twenty years from now.

*Like I said before, this entry is not one of best ones. I wrote it because I didn't know what else to write about. I hate writer's block! The idea of the future had always frightened me though. How about you? What do you think?*

Of Social Animals and Human Outcasts

Disclaimer: This entry might be offensive to some people.

Ok, I am having a fever, I am delerious. The last post, well, ignore that one. This one is so much more silly.

People are willing to do anything for acceptance and social status. They take on hellish jobs just to be able to flaunt it among peers and be admired. They purchase manors, to be able to boast it among their circle of friends. They push down their principles, suppress morals, fake feelings, put up with horrible things just to still have friends. And thus I ask why?

To what purpose is all the earthly hell, just to fake a relationship? Why put up pretensions among people who do not like you for you are and who you might not see in your death bed? Are we that desperate for a tiny charade of affection among people who do not like us? Man might be called social animals but it is shameful to degrade yourself to the status of a lowly animal just for social respect. And thus even if you feel like an outcast, I treasure your existence far more than I treasure the social animal in the center of popularity.

Who are your people to ask of you to adapt yourself to them? Be your own man. You'll be less tired and worn from the work of pretension and acting. You will also be less ridiculed behind your back by people as no one really likes pretenders or attention-seekers. Everyone is secretly ridiculed or gossiped of but the difference is for social outcasts, you know while for popular animals it is clandestine. From this observation, is it not better to be an outcast and know your enemies than to be popular and pathetically entertain your actual, secret enemies who are inwardly amused of your foolish efforts to appease them?

Sure, it would be tiring work being in solitude a lot but well, you'll find someone who cares for you. Feeling lonely in solitude is infinitely better than feeling lonely in a crowd. And in the end, you won't regret sticking to your own identity to find the real and faithful people.

For that I admire social outcasts, honest people, rude fellows and such people. They do not compromise themselves to be able to have a relationship but seek out people who accept them for their true self. There is no trouble, no lies and no hassles. Just honesty and affection, the fundamental foundation of social interaction. If you find yourself without friends, well, do not feel sad or depressed. I mean, its people's loss to lose the chance of knowing you.
Unless that is if you are a really horrible person. (Be amused or feel pity...here)

(Delerious Speech of Yada yada 1 -End-)

From Now Until Forever

I'm left to cry
My own ocean of tears
Words slip into the world seems to
never turn out right
Now I can't pull them back

The words I long to hear
I wish it came from your heart
I wish it were towards me

How blind you are,
Sightless you were by anger to hurt me so.
The words I hear from whom I love.
They hurt most of all.

Restlessness lie in my heart,
afraid to be hated afraid to hurt.
An elongated excruciating pain,
that I'm left with to mend
by my lonesome self.

Hold me now,
Your heart to me

Say what's on your mind
I know we've gone through
mountains and rapid rivers together,
Too tired, too weak to move on
Do you need me?

I need you tonight,
I need you at this moment in time,
Deep within me I know
It doesn't matter if it's wrong or right

I've found the words engraved in my heart to you
So tired of being hurt
I try to say, but it seems to always come out wrong.

I've done it all.
I've given you all I've got.
Now I'm turning my heel.
From now until forever.

*Note to readers*
This is yet to be my best work, just something I need to do. A type of closure if you will.
Bare with me until I experience a vibrant struck of artsy brilliance =P

The (Final) Words of a Madman

Disclaimer: This is a purely fictional approach on the world.

Don't take it too seriously. Please. Enjoy, though. :)

- - -

Is it possible for one to see the thin line between insanity and sanity?
The same line that keeps madmen locked in asylums and babies asleep at night?

If so, is that:
What kept me from screaming in libraries?
From running people over behind the wheel?

Is that:
What kept my tears from rolling down my cheeks?
From talking back to 'authority'?

Is that:
What kept me from shoving people running down a flight of stairs?
From hurting them? From laughing for their misery?

I belong in a madhouse.
You do too. We all do.

- - -

Then why are we free?
Why do we have the liberty to do what’s ‘right’?

“Abortion’s a capital idea!
Not all babies are future virtuosos, you know?”

“That person’s in a lot of pain. He said he wants to die.
So why not finish him off? We’re doing him a favor.”

“Don’t burn Styrofoam. You’ll just cause Global Warming.”
“Yeah, and you’re the Queen of Narnia,”

“WHERE ARE MY KIDS?! WHERE ARE THEY?!”
“Tom! Get out! You’re not sup-”
*BAM!* *BAM!*

- - -

Whoever said “It’s a jungle out there.”
At least s/he’s got the right idea.

So how should we approach this dilemma?
Should we wage war on the weak and support the strong?
Should we be hopeful and smile, thinking the world might catch on?
Should we go to the moon and start over, building a smaller but better utopia?

Or, should we just end our lives right here, right now?
It hasn’t changed in a century, so what are the odds of it changing soon?

Should we be optimistic: Always hoping, always smiling.

Pfft.. That mask isn’t fooling anyone. At least, not anymore.

- - -

::.new layout.::

So guys, like the new layout?
I still think the background's a bit too dark, though.

Longing Silence...are we still 'longing' for silence now...?

Just a short, personal opinon...

...don't you guys think this blog is a little too quiet? I mean, the background, the picture of the day, links, etc...

Lets rendezvous somewhere sometime so we can discuss on how to improve our blog to make it more 'eye appealing'

-A little 'eye candy' would be nice (e.g.: background and such)
-A more lively comment on 'blog description' (something that would tickle your spine, or something that would disturb, or intrigue your thoughts)
-Hilarious 'picture of the day'?
-Controversial, bashing, criticizing blogs

I suggest leaving 'picture of the day' to 'Moo' Said the cow'-he's an expert

A Different yet Unoriginal Perspective.

Disclaimer: This blog might be offensive to some so I downgraded almost all possible insulting words. If you still find it insulting, well think of it as a sarcastic joke where I contradict my own ideas and you'll find it infinitely more amusing. And for the last time I am not bitter.

Call me stupid, untalented, ugly and spineless and I would thank you for it. Why? Simply because you cared enough. In the past, I was well, intolerant of criticism. I still am though but I think of criticism in a different perspective and thus feel and act upon it differently.

First of all, I try not to think those anonymous people who criticize your work in the internet as my enemies but well, people who cared enough to drop a line and want to make a difference. Those people over the internet is not someone I know personally and thus insults don't really work unless I know the person and if I do know them, confrontation is easy . And you should appreciate the time they donated for some length of comment as they are so affected by your work that they had to well, try to show opposing views or appreciation. I mean, they are wasting precious moments of their life that could be donated to more worthwhile. personal endeavor yet they choose to comment on a work of someone they might not even know personally. And well, if they are angry and says a lot of crass words or insults, does that not mean that you have sparked a passion in someone which is the idea of writing? I am saying is that the people criticizing your grammar, vocabulary and shoddy ideas are people too and more importantly people you do not know so please try not to judge each other before knowing and meeting. If commentators are honest about their feelings does it not mean that the world is in a better place as an individual can express how he feel freely?

I am not saying that flames are justified I am saying that one should look from different perspectives before judgment and also try not to bring insults from people might not know you close to heart. How could we hate someone and their views before knowing him? If that is how the world is going to be even over the internet, I shudder to contemplate the idea of a generation of people who wants to kill the other without first knowing each other's lives. Think of those comments as constructive criticism towards growth and you will find yourself glad that they did comment and not just ignore your passionate words.

Comments over the internet show that to some extent people still care for your opinions and ideas. You might think that I am a hippie or peace lover but I am not and in fact I am able to violently kill the person I hate. What I don't get is how people can have such strong feelings towards people they do not know, who might have similar lives and who might even be using the same brand of toothpaste as each other. Commentators are not enemies, oh sure they might be annoying at times but what they say do have a grain of truth in them time from time. These people we regard as enemies are infinitely better than the other people we see everyday walking past us. At least these commentators would do something if they see you doing something they regard as wrong and to a certain extent I treasure commentators more than those who just read and leave without sharing their views. Those people that read something and was not even affected enough to leave behind their views show less care towards us than those that insults us. Don't get me wrong, I rarely leave comments for posts as well but thats because I don't really care for anything in my life because I have no more excitement in my soul. Unless you are someone like me, well show you care for what this person thinks by commenting today. Don't be lazy. Its just nice to see someone attempt to make a difference. Of course it would be nice if this was done nicely but everyone has different approaches to initiate change and thus who am I but an ugly, spineless, stupid and untalented man to condemn that one person I do not know who is trying to initiate change while I am doing nothing?

Note: Sorry. O.o
(Ostentatious rambles from the realm of insanity part 3 -end-)

Return to Pooh Corner

Return to Pooh Corner
Kenny Loggins

Christopher Robin and I walked along
Under branches lit up by the moon
Posing our questions to Owl and Eeyore
As our days disappeared all too soon
But I've wandered much further today than I should
And I can't seem to find my way back to the wood

So help me if you can
I've got to get back
To the house at Pooh Corner by one
You'd be surprised
There's so much to be done
Count all the bees in the hive
Chase all the clouds from the sky
Back to the days of Christopher Robin and Pooh

Winnie the Pooh doesn't know what to do
Got a honey jar stuck on his nose
He came to me asking help and advice
And from here no one knows where he goes
So I sent him to ask of the owl if he's there
How to loosen a jar from the nose of a bear

It's hard to explain how a few precious things
Seem to follow throughout all our lives
After all's said and done I was watching my son
Sleeping there with my bear by his side
So I tucked him in, I kissed him and as I was going
I swear that the old bear whispered "Boy welcome home"

Disclaimer: This would be my first blog commentary on a lyric. Of course, the content of the following would be my very own opinion on the matter. Side note - I haven't been feeling too well at the moment, therefore I apologize if this piece of work would need some major improvements.


"There is always one moment in childhood when the door opens and lets the future in." - Graham Greene, The Power and The Glory. Winnie the Pooh, also known as Pooh Bear, has been the icon of children around the world. His role as a 'cuddly absentminded stuffed bear' has accompanied many adults through their youthful years. His warm and loving character that always says that he is a "bear of little brain" has never stopped him from being the comforting and attentive friend that he is. There comes a time for every human being when the transition from being a child into a teen opens up; for some it may come through the lost of a loved one for others there are those who remains a child though their appearance may change.


The lyrics starts by describing the blasé activities where the "I" is referred to Winnie the Pooh, however changes after the different verses into Kenny Loggins or as the composer would like; the audience. The days spent with Christopher Robin, a kind hearted boy who chooses to spend his time playing with his furry friends in the Hundred Acre Woods. Through the "branches lit up by the moon" it may give some insight to how magical and enchanting it is to play freely and discover new things. Being a child not only gives of the chance of new and adventurous things; it gives us a chance of creating new things through our own minds and eyes. New ideas, new adventure; something different to the world of adults and the reality of the world that in a way burdens us. The moon significantly means something mystical, magical and something that remains an enigma no matter how many times people have seen and studies it. It hold the sense of power that makes the world wonder and feel the mystery of such luminous glow. One of the beauty of being so young is the state of innocence the mind is in; the one time 'not knowing' is a glorious thing in life. When a child goes through the phase of always asking why is written in the lyrics as "Posing our questions to Owl and Eeyore". The character Owl is characterized as the wise one, he is shown as the dictionary or the library of all the knowledge in the Hundred Acre Woods. Pooh and his friends come to him whenever they are at lost or distress. Eeyore would also be one of those who has a deep and twisted profound view of life around him. His melancholic attribute gives the contras between him and his friends. His most valuable possession would be his tail that signifies his grey and down character, however his pink bow on his tail would be the small and rare times where he cherishes being alive with his friends. How he often looses this part of him also signifies how he is able to forget such important piece of him however he seeks and never gives up on trying to find his 'tail'.


The lyric continues on to describe how time flashes by too soon for anyone to realize when you're in the midst of happiness. Wondering further than what they usually do signifies how sometimes good things that make us happy can lead us into the cliff where we change and lose our way. In this piece of song, it symbolizes how we drift ourselves from our childhood innocence to step into the real world where we are no longer protected by the warm and loving childhood friend we use to love so much. This too happens to suddenly that by the time we realize how far we have stray our selves it's much too far to find our way back to those innocent happy times. At this point, we realize how much we cherish such care-free life.


The ref of the song expresses how much we long and crave for those innocent years. We cry out and search aimlessly to find that the past is simply better off left untouched by the twisted and complicated world we now live in. In the third verse it is embodied that the moment when we stop and give up, we finally see a fairer picture of the things we actually have in front of our eyes. It is at that moments, where we discover and see the things we have always have in our possession through a different perspective and meaning. The moment where Kenny Loggins heard the whisper of his long lost friend that said "Boy, welcome home" was the moment where he realized that the innocents he long to find was in the virgin being of his son.



The significance of the meaning of the song is the value of innocence. The state of being care-free, loved, blissfully happy, untainted by the evils of the world. How ironic life can be, how when we are at that state we simply can't wait to get older and take control of our lives. However, when we are at that adult phase of our time line we yearn and long our youthful years. It also expresses the search and quest to find this 'youth' we have lost for so long. It could be one of life's greatest mysteries that when we work hard to find something there simply is nothing to find. However, we find a new perception which gives us an even greater value to our current life.

One of My Pet Peeves!

* And yet ANOTHER NOTE: I couldn’t think of anything else to write today (well, actually my writing day’s Wednesday, but I had so much work to do as of lately that I didn’t have time to work on this), so sorry if today’s blog seems kind of…weak and lacking in its structure. And, BTW, my blog doesn’t so sound trivial as the title implies and remember, it's just my opinion!…*

It was yet just another typical, one-sided, heated debate in class about issues that are currently happening in the world. I listened with boredom as my friends continued to argue about controversial topics such as gay marriage, the separation between Church and State, and so many more others that I stopped taking count. Now, normally I would simply remain dormant during these discussions between student and teacher and instead bury my whole being into a more interesting novel, intentionally shutting out the world around me; oblivious. Eventually, my attempts to block out these talks proved to be futile and I began to listen in, curious to hear about how my peers view the world.

“I believe that the government should impose biblical-based values on its overall system. After all, doesn’t the Bible introduce the best type of moral code and law?” One guy argued.

My teacher replied, “But what about other religions? Don’t they also implement similar teachings that all people would eventually follow through their common sense?”

I thought about this, and I stated rather timidly, “Isn’t it good for people within the government to, you know, have Christian values? I mean, I know about the separation of the Church and State and all, but-”

My teacher interrupted when I began to hesitate, “But what about when other people of different religions come into power? Would you have them implement their codes on you? Why do you think we have the Separation of Church and State in the first place?”

“No, but…Um…-”

I shut my mouth up immediately afterward. It was useless to argue. This was one of the reasons why I hated debates. No matter how strong my convictions were, no matter how much I truly believed in something, I never was able to size up the problem correctly and would always result in looking like a fool. I looked down at my hands as the debate continued on and I sighed inwardly, contemplating how complicated the world had become and how the truth and the verbalizing of opinions became so difficult to articulate, especially if you are going to state something which would go against the entire class (such as in my belief about the fact that whenever someone harms you in one way, you try not to fight back but instead show love…I was so dissed when I said that!).

From this previous experience, it would be obvious to deduce that I was not prepared in fighting for what I believe in nor did I attempt to argue in a more broad perspective. However, it would also mean that in modern times, stating a simple truth or a thoughtful opinion could rake in hundreds of unwanted criticism, all bombarding out to the author in open anger, agreement, and other typical reactions when a person views a ‘radical’ document. Now, if I state that I deem that gay-marriage is wrong and sinful (which I sincerely DO believe), I would probably be met with so many contradictions that I would not know how to answer to them all!

Another instance where my opinions were restricted is within this blog. When I was writing out my very first entry about my first impression of Indonesia, I was tempted to not include anything good or impressive or progressive about the country in my coming here or in my time here afterward (just my opinions, people!), but after contemplating on it, I realized that I have to be ‘neutral’. How I sometimes absolutely HATE that word!! It would mean that I would have to censure my thoughts and what I reveal to the pubic. It is so very difficult to do so, though, especially if my emotions get the better of me!

In the case if Ms. Jess is reading this, I am not angry. I am just frustrated and annoyed at the fact that it is growing to be more difficult to express your opinions and how simple it is for those to speak out wrong opinions (and yes, there is a standard in human existence that allows us to realize what is wrong and right and makes us feel guilty when we somehow go against that standard, which is all the time) are accepted by the public and the government even though the majority said ‘NO’! In fact, the problem of trying to speak out your opinions and are instead
overruled by others who did not even give you a chance to speak is another pet peeve of mine.

To wrap it all up, all I am saying is that I know I have a lot to improve when it comes to arguing for the right issue and how to try to become more open to other people’s opinions. On the other hand, it is so trying to stand up and talk about what I believe in because I know that I would be facing a lot of opposition…and that could also be increasingly daunting to the extent that I would always put on a mask to gain the favour of my peers without truly revealing what I feel and believe. Today’s society actually did not gain more freedom than previous ages; in many ways, it is evidently more restrictive… *Sigh*.

* So, how do you like this day’s entry? Not very academic, I know, but then again, I’m sick of writing essay style entries with huge words and complex grammar that makes me feel dumb. Don’t you? :) *

The thing about our little 'visitor'

Disclaimer: I felt like I'm about to start a war here, so here's a disclaimer: This is a personal opinion. Flame me! I GLADLY accept opinions and flames!! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! (Laughs hysterically)

Recently for this past few days, we have been greeted by a certain...'visitor' from 'somewhere beyond' posting comments on our blogs alike. I, personally am a hedonist; a pleasure seeker, someone who seeks pleasure. In my case, writting and video games. Obviously after the recent arrivals of this someone, I felt that the 'pleasure' from writting blogs has dicipated into thin air, and this feeling of enmity towards this 'guest' has taken its toll on me.

I am a very short-tempered (yet patient) man...

To start off, I would gladly comment on some of my fellow A2 students (Hi A2s!) and A1s I've read. Sure I would say some of you guys love to use big words; and I mean big words. But hey, we are students-we live to LEARN! It is a continuous cycle of life that we never stop learning. And so, this is where I should jump to the main point.

I suggest YOU (You should know who you are) should learn something called RESPECT! Admit it, some of they're blogs are definitely creditable and deserves an accolade for their effort. It is NOT a total waste of time-unlike your mindless flaming and bashing. Why don't you go learn to write a blog?

And isn't it ironic that our 'friend' seems to be needing a good spanking on SPELLING ISSUES? Maybe he doesn't need one because he thinks he's so INTELLIGENT and EDUCATED. Think like that all you like! And maybe its just me, but from the sound of his name could he be the descendants of the 'Tsar?' I thought the 'Romanovs' are finished after the Bolshevik revolution of 1917; maybe he's one of these snobby nobles! GET A LIFE!! YOUR REIGN IS OVER!!

Pathetic. Just PATHETIC! You have no rights to comment, bash, or even flame our blogs (and when I mean 'our', it means BOTH A1 and A2. Be nice to keep your hands away from those links, would you?) when you conceal yourself in the darkness of 'Blogspot'! Seriously, GET A LIFE! IF YOU HAVE SO MUCH TIME BASHING OTHER BLOGS AND FLAMING THEM, WHY DON'T YOU GO WRITE YOUR OWN BLOG AND SEE HOW IT TURNS OUT, OH GREAT 'TSAR' OF BLOGSPOT!!! Pffft OFF!!!

(Insert curse words here)

By now, you might've noticed that I am not as nice as some of my friends are. Blatantly, the great 'Tsar of Blogspot' is in fear of abasement from us outnumbering him 10++ to 1. Oh flame if you like great 'Tsar of Blogspot'! I have this sense that you're those 'outcast' who bash others within the net, and is bashed outside the net. Just trying to act tough, my 'Russian' friend?

*sigh*

Such a terrible week this has been...
good thing this blog is available for constant release of rage and anger...

-Signed-
Epitath of Twilight

Unknown

Disclaimer: This poem was made a few weeks ago and is NOT to be graded. Comments are always accepted.

Lonely is the word that defines my heart,
Mistakes are the things I do each day,
Missing are so many patches in my soul,
My mask is what I show…

Empty is what I feel,
Unloved, unreliable is the world I see...
Trust is what I long to do,
Shattered was it that my hope was too…

Nevertheless I wake and sleep with a smile,
A smile so weak only time will tell…
How long I’d sustain it, no one will ever know,
Let this be what no one knows…

Let this be a secret closed,
My life, my love so tragic it seems…
My heart no longer able to rejoice in anyway,
My tears to myself no one could know…
For counting it would be standing in the pouring rain
of such a sunny day…

'Dear Earth'

Note: This story is purely fictional. It's a sort of a 'follow-up' to the Writing Workshop topic we had last week. Enjoy!

A paper airplane glided its way to places unknown, guided only by the wind. It traveled across countries, continents, and oceans; finding its way straight onto the lap of Gaia, or Mother Earth, slumbering beneath the Earth's crust. Distracted by the sudden change in pressure, she opened up her bouldery eyes, and ever so slowly reached for the microscopic object to avoid any tremors up on the surface of the Earth. With the help of critters residing inside the being's body, she carefully unfolded the paper airplane and found a letter in its place. She examined the piece of paper, its writings heavily distorted, but still readable. The being, too curious to continue her peaceful slumber, started to read the contents of the letter, wondering how it could have landed straight onto the lap of a titan:

'Dear World,'

'World'? No being - neither god nor mortal - had called her with such a name in a very long time. Has Fate predestined such an occasion? Curiosity beckoned for her to read on.

'You stink.'

She didn't flinch. For once, experience had taught her self-control, especially when facing criticism from mere mortals. The titan read on.

'I'm sorry for being such a prude, but it's true, right? The world is just so sick, it bugs me why we'd even want to live like this in the first place. I mean there's: war, famine, pollution, illegal logging, pirating, crime, greed, corruption, and the list goes on and on.'

The god wasn't surprised. Why would she?

'What have you been doing?! This is your job! Haven't you heard the trees crying for you as illegal loggers tear them down limb from limb? Did you look the other way when the animals shout for you as they were 'force-fed' with hot lead? What about the children, killed by the immature decisions of their irresponsible parents?'

The giant grinned. She couldn't stop thinking of Pandora and her accursed box.

'World, if you don't change shortly, I really think we're all gonna die. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother looking up at the sky. It's no longer blue and peaceful; gray clouds surround the heavens as acid rain pelt down, destroying everything in its path. Death lingers everywhere.

Who's your boss, anyway? And why hasn't he fired you yet? You're doing such a 'swell' job.

Eddie'

The letter ended there, and what followed were small drawings of the world through the child's eyes. They were colorful, but one can easily notice a tone of annoyance and anger in each of the kid's sketches. He's no artist, though, that's for sure.

Gaia read the letter over and over again, holding on to each word ever so intently as if they were her very own offspring. The letter wasn't directly meant for her, but as fate would have it, she felt somewhat lucky to have read the letter. The titan tried to find its hidden meaning, assuming the sender wasn't a kid. But she found none. The letter was just too naive, too innocent. Gaia dug a small hole on the palm of her hand and buried the letter, allowing it to become a part of the Earth again. Grinning, she closed her eyes and dozed off.

'Humans.'

- - - -

Caught off guard, Eddie picked up a piece of paper that had somehow struck his head and bounced off to the pavement. Looking around, he realized no one was near enough to throw a ball of paper at him, not in this kind of wind. Nevertheless, he picked the paper and examined it; it's a note, smaller than a page of one of his books. Strangely, it had a distinct smell of wet dirt on it, and its appearance was just the same, as if someone had buried it before it was thrown at him. The message was, in bold letters:

"It's not my job!"

'What?' Ed thought, as he crumpled the paper into a ball again and tossed it over his shoulder. The crumpled up piece of paper landed softly on the concrete sidewalk, producing no sound. The kid walked away, failing to notice that, in place of the note he just threw, was a clump of dirt.

Hello World

Disclaimer: This following piece of literature is simply one of the varied opinions in my head. This is not the attitude I live by but merely one that has been invoked by the bitterness I currently feel.

This infuriating anomaly has been growing in my mind and I simply cannot contain it any longer. The first time I realized this fixation of the ideas and theories that has popped into my head; I was shocked to grasp how long it took me to realize how contemptuous and somewhat retarded it is for people to be controlled by the world. Society and the community we live in have always affected the way we act and who we are as a person. No matter how much we loathe and detest the truth of this fact it simply is because we deny that we as people are controlled by others; when we are in fact professedly are the ones that justifies the existence of what the world is.

As humans we somehow develop this need to fear something or someone. If I was an atheist I would say that religion was simply one factor where humans create to form a logical sense of fear for the unknown. Though I am profoundly to be a Christian, I have come to a rather obscuring question. Are we to live a life of struggle and languish for the fear of the unknown? Can we not simply accept that we are not even close to perfection? Some might say that it is quite obvious that we aren’t, however some strive for the grand ultimatum of perfection. Why do we live under constant fear when those like ourselves have created those fears we are so haunted by.

Everyone goes through the process of adulthood; some more difficulty than others and some with much ease and gratification. Since our conception we grow little by little and take a greater part in the world around us. With so many of us, you would think we would have taken over the world and our place in it could easily be found. However, the opposite is the reality. Many of us fear life outside our comfort zone; remote from the usual things we see and do every day of our lives. This fear restrains us from accepting a greater part of life. Not the life we have so comfortably set for ourselves. For who are we to limit and measure the extensity of life? Mere mortals.

Evolution is a theory in which every living being is a complicated process where we develop ourselves into something greater. It took millions of years to finally achieve who we are now; even now we are still learning to ‘evolve’ to the next stage. One vital phase in our lives is solely called high school. Many experts say that our life’s foundation is our past, our childhood. The smallest memory of things throughout that fraction of our lives can change life permanently. It can either suppress us or open our eyes to a whole new world through the perspective of the young hearted. From any other aspect found high school is the most apparent example where my statement is true. It is how we are controlled by the world around us when the one thing that defines ourselves is us. Peer pressure changes a person through fear; the fear of rejection, the fear of humiliation and the fear of getting hurt. We fear these things, therefore we follow a certain order in which is controlled by others who are no different than you and me.

In the grand design, are we actually created to be suppressed by fear? Is it what controls us? Or, do we stand for ourselves and be defined as someone different. Would that be such tragedy?

Tales of Long Words

Disclaimer: This post might be offensive to some and so try to be open-minded.
Note: Comment please. If you like it say so. If you don't criticize so I improve. But please don't stay silent or things will forever be the same. I have toned down the cynicism, bitterness and if you want something different in what I post do say cause I will do it eventually.

The future, the present and the past. We live in a world of big words. In result, we have to rely more and more on dictionaries and encyclopedias to sound smart or to understand what people trying to sound smart actually mean. I am certain that you have been affected too either as a victim or source.

I am sure you know that big words have a lot of power. Whenever you want to create a sophisticated impression, use big words. Whenever you want to sound smart, use big words. Whenever you want to intimidate, use big words. Whenever you want to exclude somebody of lower intelligence, you resort to big words. Due to this power, we are intoxicated by big words. We buy thesaurus. We learn it everyday. We take down notes whenever we come across a big word we don't know. Well to tell you the truth, I am sickened of you all using these bloody long words.

Well, in actuality I don't mind people using these big words cause it builds my vocabulary. But the ones I despise are those that use the thesaurus or uses big words to impress to make life difficult for both himself and me. Why the hell go through so much trouble as looking through a thesaurus to type a longer word when you have the perfect simple word to describe something. It sincerely confuses me the troubles people go through to pretend to be something they are not. Writing is supposed to be natural with flow and rhythm to it. When you pull up another word from the dictionary, you disrupt everything natural about it; be it the flow or rhythm. Another thing you might disturb is the emotion. I mean would you rather have me say "The erudite manner through which you have expressed your tenets and paradigms impresses me. A commendable effort" or "The way you expressed your thoughts and ideas are impressive to me. Good job." If your choice is the former, I feel sorry for you because you have truly lost grasp of what is important and also worn out your thesaurus and dictionary.

So please, I beg of you. Be yourself. You don't have to sound smart through big words for people to know you are smart. You don't have to use big words to be something you are not. What matters is what you say and how it flows. Having good language skills is not about how to use big words to "wow" people. It is about writing with emotion, rhythm and nice flow. It is about invoking emotions. It is about being inspiring, being a muse. Of course I would be impressed if you can convey it in such a manner with the use of big words with a nice flow. But if you are not used to it yet, don't force it. If you use big words before you are able, you'll only come off as a person who tries too hard and who is well, rather insecure. You might think that it is a tad hypocritical of me to say all this as I am a lover of obscure big words but trust me, I had never opened a thesaurus and I am not planning to until I am old and have nothing else to do but learn synonyms. Simplicity is after all beautiful and simple words in actuality had been underestimated in everyone's desire to sound unique and smart with their long, obscure words that they forget the statement.

I wish you all will appreciate the beauty of simple words.
I wish you are secure enough to use simple words.
So that you may not need to be bound to the thesaurus and dictionaries forever.
All I can hope for is that wishes do come true.

"Ostentatious Drabbles from The Realms of Insanity: Part 2 ENd"

Fiction and Fanfiction. Big Difference? I don't think so!

Disclaimer: Again, this is just a personal opinion from someone who has linger too much in www.fanfiction.net (mindless advertising)

This has been a number of discussion, really. Can fanfictions be considered similairly to a fiction? In reality, both do have authors with abundant imagination to spare and both work are a form of literature. But what is, exactly, the difference between fiction and fanfiction? (Yeah, random ramblings)

Lets try to define 'fiction' first. What is fiction? A fiction is a story invented through the imagination of mankind about reality, or a totally different universe. Then what is 'fanfiction'? Fanfiction is a story invented through the imagination of mandkind about reality, or a totally different universe in an existing work of literature. Sounds similair? Familiar? Re-read it again and see.
Writters out there, there is almost no difference between a 'fiction' and a 'fanfiction'! Sure, fanfiction could be illegal at some point, but SOME fanfiction (specifically Star Wars and its Expanded Universe) were legal. The difference between the two work of literature falls to its originality, where a fanfiction is based on an existing work, group, or event.

For example, a fanfiction about America's 911 is even possible (such controversies...there's bounds of ideas to be harvested by our hungry mind from that scoop)! Or, a different ending for Harry Potter where in the end, Harry DIES and Hermione-not Ginny-Hermione marries Harry and went mad after knowing Harry's death and eventually attempted suicide-and succeeds. Wouldn't that be nice? The not the oh-so-lovey-dovey endings we get from mainstray fictions!
How about soccer players? Oh, that's possible too! A friend of mine (now abroad) used to wrote fanfictions about soccer players and their...'activities' beyong 'games'. Interested? Don't ask me of the details...

A fiction, came from the pure mind of an author. Settings from scratch, characters from scratch, and-not to forget, plot from scratch. What about fanfiction? Fanfiction came from the pure mind of a fan-turned author. Settings 'borrowed' from an existing fictional/reality universe, characters 'borrowed' from an existing fictional/reality universe and/or add some of his/her own originals, and plot could follow up from the original story line.

So, not pleased with the grand ending of a book? Unpleased with the lack of plot development to a character? Felt like there's a crevace between the action and the conclusion? You think you know how to fill that gap? Then do so! Their story, their characters, YOUR plot. Fanfictions-unleash your imagination! (Quoted from Fanfiction.net)

To Talk the Walk

*NOTE* - This blog entry may echo some of the themes presented by Valentine in a previous entry, though maybe not as cynical. Just a head’s up is anyone’s wondering if some of the things I wrote sounded familiar.

I poked my shoe against the wooden pews, internally wincing as I heard a girl’s voice rang out from behind me to ask yet another question. Her words rang hollowly in my ears and I stared at the ceiling to cover up any signs of frustration. It was Thursday, the day when all the girls from Gr. 6-9 were to come to the sanctuary to talk and have devotions during the remainder of our lunch period. I sighed deeply and leaned back on my pew as the girl behind me continued to talk. As the girl’s voice began to fade from my hearing, I reviewed the events of the past few days which made my stomach churned with regret and guilt. A scene flew past my enclosed my mind which made me sink even more under the heavy weight of shame.

I was walking around in our classroom, just before our lunch break was over, holding a book in my hand, talking to a friend of mine who was typing away on her laptop.

“She is so annoying, I just can’t stand her! She’s always trying to suck up to the teachers, you know? And she’s always showing off her stupid collection of stuff! I mean, who even cares?” I complained to her.

My friend glanced up and nodded, “Yeah, you’re right. She’s such a snob, always trying to make people like her when it’s obvious that she’s lost her chance last year. Everyone knows what kind of person she is now.”

I sat back down on my chair and began to diss her, about how horrible she sang in our school musical and how she always secretly reads a book when the teacher was talking without her getting into trouble; my friend agreed to everything I said with fervor. Soon afterward, class began again, but the girl I insulted stayed quiet at the back of the room without so much as a peep. It wasn’t until during PE class that she told me she heard everything I said about her. She was walking up to our classroom when she heard us talking. Her eyes were red with tears and I realized that the amount of trust she previously placed on me as a friend broke. My stomach churned within me again, and I raised my hand to ask the question burning inside of me.

One of the teachers called on me and I explained how guilty I felt about insulting the girl and how, as Christians, I could stop being hypocritical and a gossip. I immediately recalled some other situations where I’ve told people I desired to follow Jesus while gossiping and hurting someone afterward. One of the younger girls in front of me suddenly turned around and stated simply how we could never escape the world of gossip and hypocrisy because we are in it, we breathe it, and therefore, we should accept it as something that is normal and forgivable.

That was one statement I couldn’t accept.

Over the next couple of years, I was unable to say how sorry I was in insulting her because my pride and my desire to be respected by my classmates overruled my desire to do what Jesus would have me do. I now look back on this event as one of the worst of my life because it truly showed me how low a human character can sweep. To many people, gossiping and talking about others behind their backs might not seem like a big deal. It wasn’t a big sin, nor was it something which could destroy someone’s life to the extent that they would kill themselves. Nonetheless, it was still a sin, something that we know we aren’t supposed to do yet we do it anyway (this has something to do with Moral Law…I might write something about that in a later entry).

Many times, we gossip, become hypocritical so often that we no longer feel guilty about it, allowing us to call ourselves so-called ‘Christians’ without truly understanding the magnitude of importance of carrying out our faith in our walk and actions. The talk is easy; one doesn’t need experience or learning to become a sinner. It’s the living out of our faith that’s truly difficult, and no matter how many times this message was played out (and yes, it does seem like I’m preaching to you), the issue is always going to be there.

This entry is not supposed an academic essay (forgive my horrible vocabulary and grammar), but a personal opinion from someone who experienced the harm the power of words could have on people and used it to hurt others. It’s nothing to be proud of, and still today I regret at not having repaired the friendship with the girl I insulted so horribly (I didn’t just tease her for one day…I insulted her for the next entire year as well…I still cringe when I think about my actions). Going against God's wordnot only harms and hurts others, it ultimately hurts you.

Christians are called by God to be salt of the earth, to spread the love of God and his truth for the entire world to experience, know, and understand. To walk the talk of the Christian faith is not something which is simple to do, especially with our individual sinful nature. Only a lifetime of prayer and help from God can improve how we view the world and others, even in this modern society where right and wrong is relative.

See the monkey, man.

Note: A few insignificant information (e.g. name, time, place) weren't inserted in this blog entry in fear of prosecution from the administrator. This blog was also supposed to be posted on Monday, September 3, but I thought of posting it earlier to avoid more work on that day.. Enjoy!
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Church was over, but I was still dead-tired.

It was 8.30 AM in the morning as I pulled the large steel doors of the church that separated the air-conditioned room from the bright hot sky. My parents stayed back to talk to the pastor, a middle-aged man, while my little brother scampered around a table filled with snacks and drinks, located right next to the exit doors.

Not wanting to wait and/or make a pig of myself in the snacks table, I made my way towards a supermarket right across the street from my church. I glanced at my watch: 8.45 AM. The store wasn't exactly open yet, but the security guards still let me in. After a brief greeting with the manager of the store, my father's old friend, I entered the building.

I took a red bag and walked around each aisle to see what might be interesting enough to purchase. In a particular aisle, I noticed a flyer hidden between cartons of powdered milk. Yellow and all crinkled up, I picked it up and wondered why the original owner wasn't too interested with whatever the piece of paper was trying to promote. On the flyer, written in large letters, were:

SEE THE AMAZING APE-MAN!
Born in our very own island of Java, this 10-year-old boy has the face of a monkey!
His back is covered in fur, just like a monkey!
Come see him here, at (store name),
from September 29 - August 9!
ACCOMPANIED BY MAGIC SHOWS AND ACROBATIC DANCES!
Ticket price approximately Rp. 4000!

On the borders of the flyer was, in smaller letters: "Touring around Indonesia!" written about a dozen times.

I had visited the store days ago to find a poster with the same message taped on a board near the entrance. Banners, put on the railings of the second level of the store, also promoted this unusual show. I guess it's a NEVER TO MISS attraction in this part of town, but I wasn't that interested. So I scrunched it back up and threw it in a nearby trash bin.

It wasn't even 10 minutes after that when the manager came up to me again and asked whether or not I was interested in watching the attraction. My father had called a moment earlier, saying that we were going out of town and to get back to church as soon as possible. So attending this so-called ape-man show was quite impossible knowing how persistent my parents are in this sort of thing. Still, I was curious enough to ask if the manager could somehow take a picture of this 10-year-old child for me. He agreed to do so, and I left with my purchased goods. It was 9.00 AM.

At 3.00 PM, as I arrived home, the photograph was already there.

Sure enough, there was what looked like a boy with a human head, shaped a bit like a monkey. I knew I'd be lying to myself if I had said that it was normal to have a body like that. Mind you, I wasn't staring at a picture of a being with the body of a boy and the head of a primate; but that of a 10-year-old boy with a head that is similar to that of a monkey's.

Ten years old.. too young for show biz?

It's a very cruel world out there, especially for a 5th grader - that is, if he does attend school or not. The manager of the store explained that the only primate-like feature on the boy is his appearance and that the boy himself is a very kind person. Still, it's pretty sad to know that only his appearance is being shown to the public. Yes, he does acrobatic tricks; but the crowd will only be seeing a monkey-man who can juggle and dance, not a very talented 10-year-old.

In the picture, the child was smiling. How much is he paid for? Does he even have a salary? The manager claims that his mother is always with him during the show, but is the woman really the child's mother? Even if she is, shouldn't they seek medical help? Or is she using this 'opportunity' to make a profit, unbeknownst to her son?

As I reread this blog entry, I wonder whether my mind is taking this sort of thing too seriously. What if he's content with what he's doing? Who wants to take his happiness away?

Not me.

My viewpoints are limited to only that of the photograph. Even so, my opinions can still be expressed through this blog entry. Of course, it's biased and you've been warned.

The photograph of the child will be posted in this blog in a couple of days, as soon as I can transfer it to my computer. That way, maybe you'll conjure your own opinion about this... human being.