date:
Sunday, January 20, 2008
title: the end?
theme: seether, 6 gun quota
my application to the university got rejected. i'm not depressed, just pissed. mad , wishing it was not the start but the fucking hell end of it. after another year of shit that i've lived through, it seems a new just one seem to be unfolding itself. next time, i'll make sure to kill myself.
dump by a girl, befriended some jerks, and now this. i can't seem to laugh this one off. i guess some people are just born lucky. some well are just how should i put it in a good way, destined to not shine.
it all makes sense now. i was born to be this way. miserable but yet always able to stand through it. not even cracking bout it but just remain silent and dozed off like there's a another new thing to bring my walls down again and again and again.
now those that know bout it seem to think i'm a fake. others, just lost their respect for me. then again i think i do deserved some penance for it. my oh my, how my family's ties with me seem to just drop down and explode on me every year. my parents, well their not talking to me anymore. after a long conversation on their phone, they decide that from now on i should be alone and do things for myself. no more will they come and check on me, no more will they ask bout my where abouts, and no more will they ponder what am i currently doing. i'm a cast off anyways. why should they care, they're better off just spending their time on my other siblings. making sure they don't end up like me. i know they will, i train them well. they won't get addicted to any of my unlucky streak. it's ok. at least i can rest well knowing they'll be able to take care of themselves.
sorry gal, but sometimes promises are meant to be broken. the same can be said bout the other promises others has done to me but always fail and fail to do so. you can't change who i am or what am i supposed to be. maybe your assumptions bout me weren't that right on the mark, but it's ok. i'll be fine. living my live at the edge of a gun.
date:
Sunday, January 13, 2008
title: dat damn mood
theme: papa roach, reckless
as it says on the box to the right, i'm alive and that's all that matters. thanks to the wonders of the web, i found another gem of a song that keeps me company through out the ordeals. i won't touch bout my wrist, i have to keep a promise towards a some one. i'll just give you guys a hint, it stings even when i don't move my wrist. it's crap but i'll passed it out so no worries.
it's a brand new year so i can expect the unexpected again. that's the good thing bout it. there's always something in store for me (and other people) and i can never sense when it's coming. the bad thing is it normally tends to not give a positive impression. but hey, i'm alive and kicking so i guess that's something to look forward to.
Dr. Anton told me my best shot at going to the states is through a conditional offer. i quote " most probably Wichita won't give anything to you, so your best shot is a conditional greeting from Abilene". as usual, he mix the news into one. i won't blame him for doing so. he pointed out my disastrous first year and i just knew it was just gonna catch up to me sooner or later. now i have to deal with the consequences.
had some thought of meeting some long lost friends in KK but then they were busy with their commitments. i'm not mad, and i'm not having anything against them. i mean like it's their life, i have no right to butt in after all the vanishings i've been doing. no need for apologies, i'm not the type to get that pissed off over such small trivial matters.
most people have been wondering bout those poems that are on my blog. they think it's some sort of lyrics from a song that i got blasting my ear drums all the time. well just to clear the mist, it's not. it's just something that i do during my free time. for instance, a lyric would be something like this :
Please forgive me
While I turn out the lights
Watch this haunted day, turn into a wasted night
So cut me off, throw me out
Cos I’m reckless, I’m a Reckless
God damn son of a bitch!?
I’m Reckless, So reckless,
God save me, from this madness (x2)
I’m walking on broken glass
From the wreckage of my past
I’m locked up in a cage
Cos I’m a prisoner of my ways
So cut me off, throw me out
Cos I’m reckless, I’m a Reckless
God damn son of a bitch!?
that's from the theme song for this post. a poem that i tend to do would be :
when i'm down on bended knees,
i look up to the walls,
admiring my drawings that came by blood,
something that no one can see,
a reckless part that i'm addicted too,
something nobody else can see,
i wonder why it should be red,
it should be black,
it's better to read,
and shows how much i've bleed,
it's madness isn't it,
to see just how much,
such a simple soul like me,
can ever even be in that same room,
a room where people tend to come and go,
staring down blindly unconsciously,
never even offering a hand to pull me out,
a room that just rhymes with a word,
madness.
see the difference now? of course, it's not a hobby. i don't have any hobbies. i just write poems when i feel like i need suppress myself.
btw, i've added my e-mail in my intro. so bum it if you feel i'm already dead or just when your bored. i'll do my best to check it.
