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.
