Tuesday, April 14, 2009

i hate the things on my hate list
that should be clear enough. . im not easily angered, if i am, that person, hopefully, does not  deserve their predicament. it just hurts very much to feel such a thing, a rumour is something that can break the closest of bonds
i kind of pity sz, he kind of gets the blame for our project this time. hopefully our future endeavours will be more fruitful.
i missed so many lessons, how am i going to catch up.. T~T
darn. i get so much stress from home as well as school. i hate the sound of unhappiness.
the cycle never ends. little happened today to lift up my mood, i felt ever so crestfallen since yesterday. im going to need a jab of positive medicine


im going to compose something to take my mind of the stress;
the day dusks, the chill of the night befalls, the moon; blanket by thick jet black ominous swirls of vapour, it makes the night darker than pitch black.
an attap house, upon a remote hill, surrounded by crawling creepers and vines
a child gazes upon the charcoal black sky through the window without a glass. he gazes deeply, to catch the glow of any star he can find.
a comfortable effervent warmth given off by the glowing wax candle beside him warms his soul, he hears the muffled sounds of his family in deep sleep. 
he reaches his hand outside the window, he feels the chilling icy hands of the dark embracing his hand.
shivering, he pulls his arm back. 
as if granted a boon by the deities, a gust of wind parts the clouds, making a clearing. the candle beside him extinguishes, its burnt tallow odour wafted through the house. the boy ignores it, his attention focused upon a meteor rocketing through the stratosphere.
 A shooting star! he thought. he made his wish hastily, that was the moment he had been waiting for all night. he concentrated hard, making sure his consciousness was transmitted to the heavens and beyond. he, the boy, full of hope, thanked his deities.
exhausted and sleepy, the boy walks back to his bed, shared by his four other siblings. he lays down, feels the numbness in his legs from the prolonged standing and he wonders about his future: what awaits him....
 he is soon in deep slumber; and he dreams...




words are but just tools, emotions are merely expressions. 

Call Of The Wild at 9:05 PM