Using Jargons
With possibility that
only you and i can tell
and the probability that
i and only i can feel
“You know what day is today doctor?”“It’s Sunday!” The physician, claimed ecstatically.“Nope, today is my birthday. Can I have a glass of juice as my present?”“Hmm..your serum potassium is a bit up, we will see after your dialysis.”
Code Blue: RDU.
The patient died during dialysis.
Seduced your words
I’ll squeeze this heart out
Wear it on my sleeves
Don’t hate what you don’t understand
Say, Love is the only heaven on earth
Say, Poetry is love written on paper
With two cups of tea, a squeal or a plea
Respond ,
How can wrecked soul write again
so beautifully?
I’ll squeeze this heart out
Wear it on my sleeves
Don’t hate what you don’t understand
Say, Love is the only heaven on earth
Say, Poetry is love written on paper
With two cups of tea, a squeal or a plea
Respond ,
How can wrecked soul write again
so beautifully?
What we had was too painful..
I wish it was just a fiction,
A made up story ~ far from reality.
I scribbled and doodled
As frivolous as electrocardiogram strips
Yet, not even a man in a white coat
Wept nor meek
Sleepless nights
How I begged for pills
Do you have a yellow pen?
Prescribe some Rivotrils, please
Pale palms
Eccentric pulse
A toxin, pinned
Incised the sino atrial apart
Necrotized every inch of hope
Demasticated soul, dancing in mope
Ventricular Tachy then Brady
but breathing still
trying
here,
still here
How I begged for pills
Do you have a yellow pen?
Prescribe some Rivotrils, please
Pale palms
Eccentric pulse
A toxin, pinned
Incised the sino atrial apart
Necrotized every inch of hope
Demasticated soul, dancing in mope
Ventricular Tachy then Brady
but breathing still
trying
here,
still here
Don't let fear pull you back
If you won't do it now
You will only waste a chance
We will never know when will it come again
or will it ever go back.
So jump on that board
Don't hold back
Throw those worries in the air
Seize precious moments because they can be rare
We are too busy making a living
And we forget what it feels like to live
Life can pass by like a moving bus
You don't want to tell yourself
I should have done this and that
Hair gets grey, knees weak
Hospital arrest, forever rest in bed
It will be too late for you to realize
Alas, I am getting older
I think my game is over.
If you won't do it now
You will only waste a chance
We will never know when will it come again
or will it ever go back.
So jump on that board
Don't hold back
Throw those worries in the air
Seize precious moments because they can be rare
We are too busy making a living
And we forget what it feels like to live
Life can pass by like a moving bus
You don't want to tell yourself
I should have done this and that
Hair gets grey, knees weak
Hospital arrest, forever rest in bed
It will be too late for you to realize
Alas, I am getting older
I think my game is over.
“I was in an Australian military assigned somewhere in the middle east and there was this event when we had an encounter local protesters trying to get near to our camp. We were pushing them off using the barricade steel bar that separated our groups from them. And then, there was this peculiar woman wearing somewhat like a bag made of cloth in her chest, and she was screaming words at me using their language that I don’t understand. It was beyond my comprehension why she seemed to be very mad at me. After that, she showed me what was inside the cloth, it was a baby, squeezed and lifeless as a result our pushing and pulling of the steel bar from their party and ours. That was the most horrific and saddest day of my life”
A part of life from Mr SP. in which he wish to be forgotten but kept on hunting him on his dreams. She was diagnosed with post traumatic syndrome.
Dear friend,
I feel guilty guilty of not telling you
the version of truth that I know.
But you see, I am not in the position
to tell you the truth behind the what you know is the truth.
I am not the right person to explain
you things because that would mean exposing the sensitive truth of
that person that you happened to care for. But some times I would
wish that we will grab some drinks and pretend that we are drunk. And
I will tell you what I know and I would be vindicated and would blame
it to the alcohol. It is bothering me. And I hope you understand that
people have their own mess but it doesn't mean how you know them is
pretending. It is part of how they are. It is just, there are a lot
of subparts of their parts that they would rather keep to themselves
because this world is cruel or maybe you won't understand. I
genuinely consider you as a friend. and I hope one day, you would understand.
Why do we only write when we are sad?
Are we that very silly and hopeful
that words would give us answers
and give us comfort
and would love us back
----
You know that the honeymoon stage is over when you have your first big fight.
When you spend your night crying on your bed
When you spend your day, taking the first available bus, not minding where is the destination
Are we that very silly and hopeful
that words would give us answers
and give us comfort
and would love us back
----
You know that the honeymoon stage is over when you have your first big fight.
When you spend your night crying on your bed
When you spend your day, taking the first available bus, not minding where is the destination
"How terrible is it?
When you were happily holding hands
And in a snap, you can't even look at
me in the eye
The excruciating pain of feeling
unwanted
Of what have I done wrong
Of what I should have done
Or am I good enough
Or do you miss the one who broke your
heart
Or do you want to chase the one before me
And maybe you would patch up things and
you would leave me
I need an explanation
I need a reassurance
I just can't accept 'just'
Because 'just' would lead me to
thousand of questions
then I would start questioning myself"
How does it feel to have a very deep wound, deeper than the anything you ever had, then put a scoop of rocky road ice cream on top to sugar coat everything. An ice cream is an awful analogy but that's one of his favourites.
It's tiring. It's like there is an unending stumble of domino chips, a prolonged effect of Murphy's law. It's emotionally exhausting when you are trying so hard to convince your self that you are tough and you can get through this, day by day, it's alright. But it will just hit you, in a blink of an eye. One particular instance, like a slap in your face. Oh wait, i'm not okay. There's a burst of gazillion of heavy emotions that leaves you baffled where were all these came from? How good was I on putting it aside and here they are, sitting on my lap. Here they are, swallowing me whole with a very very heavy heart.
PS
I hope that the reader is smart enough to realise that most of the blog entries are posted on random dates.
