a silent war

the hardest one to fight
is the one with yourself

when you try so hard to pretend
and to ignore
like as if nothing is there

when the beast in you is tugging at the chains
roaring and screaming in your head
relentlessly

again and again
you tranquilize this beast
a temporary death

only for it to awaken
when you least expect it
and back to square one

struggle
with all the forces in you
it will never die, no it will not

but you will be stronger
you will be tamer
you will be more humble.

(edited february 18 twentyfourteen.)

fortune

in countless ways

do we count our blessings 

these daily struggles we inhale

these neverending battles

a conscious that fluctuates

a constant tug-of-war 

making memories 

and to deliberately forget

again and again 

over and over 

count your blessings 

in countless ways we do. 

the long road

we may think that time was wasted

and we could've done other things 

achieved more 

but instead 

that 'wasted time' was to put us back into place, to straighten us up 

a greater wake-up call than usual 

something that could never be purchased, be replaced

so invaluable was that moment 

the beauty of the unknown 

the beauty of realization 

a different song

it is difficult

to distinguish the difference

when you blind yourself 

to diamonds that don't glitter 

to crystals that don't shine 

when you fail

to recognize that the true

gem 

is so simple. 

so basic. 

a matter of trust. 

a matter of faith. 

matters that matter. 

delayed future

it is upsetting to see

what you think is current

and in trend

is what others have employed

more than 2 decades ago

or perhaps even

have been their entire lifestyle

so quick you are

to duplicate

and impart not only into your lives

but onto others

a concealed force-feed

clone

of clones

you go about mechanically

in routine

this regular irregularity

you are so proud of

yet 

so quick to judge

whine complain 

the second something catches you off guard 

be blind no more

we beg of you

burn no bridges

embrace willingly

says the idealist comfortably, concealed safely

without moving an inch. 

a lifetime subscription

of artifice

and deceit 

promising chronic dementia 

and added bonus of derision

a lifelong guarantee 

in your shoebox of a paradise

last last night:

: one. i was back at the 2nd house in my old room clearing all my books. separating the ones i needed most at the moment and SAA helped me to shift these books to his study. he had prepared a separate table just for me. helped to rearrange them in order. :

: two. attended the wedding of a friend at cantonment road. we thought we were late for the event but much was still happening. at a big field it was with large tents and canopies. met my parents who were seated at a round table not too far away. they left after a while in that old grey car which still looked new. and as we were about to leave i saw a band playing *his* song and as the saying goes "You can run but you can never hide."

corporate punks

in uniform
they look, behave
and speak in the same fashion

the rehearsed antics
the scripted scene

expect the unexpected expectantly
they delivered
and adhered to
without disappointment

...

how long will it last
how far will it go

will we live to see an actual revolt
with sincerity
without conditions

it is not that simple

but it could be.

altered truths

are set

in our daily lives 

it becomes 

habit 

it becomes

routine 

it becomes 

"okay"

that when it presents 

in actuality 

in purity 

it shocks and it overwhelms 

it is mistaken for 

drama. 

battling fate

nothing worse than

fighting evil with hatred 

there is too much angst 

resentment 

and it consumes you 

and exhausts you 

and still 

we keep on fighting 

even when we don't want to 

no matter how hard we try 

but. 

we try. 

remember,
you still have legs. 

appreciate them. 

while you still can. 

debacle

the world has reduced to this: 

weddings disguised as children's birthday parties and / or a halloween makeover, preferrably in pastel. 

also, 

the celebration of the unborn is highly favoured by the supposed un-traditionalists. call me square but i've yet to find a legit reason for this. your optimism bewilders me to no end. 

finally, 

food documentation has never been more significant. it even takes precedence over the aforementioned events. almost everyone is guilty of this including yours truly. however, do consider the process of documentation. a picture of a rotten apple with the caption 'defying gravity' will surely gain more votes than say, a picture of you and a rotten apple and no caption. i could be wrong of course. if you refers to ryan gosling (the notebook), i am definitely way out wrong. 

see what the world has reduced to? 

rotten apples and ryan gosling. 

sheesh. 

preferred intelligence

the ability to

sieve the sarcasm
for humour

to share
unconditionally

to strike without aggression
to embrace defeat
with grace

to be just
be.

a disappointment indeed.
to you who has slaved  faithfully.
like clockwork.
to you who has achieved everything
and you
who has nothing.

still we welcome you.
unchain yourself.

unless
you are comfortable
with permanent loss.

still waters

beware the silence

beware the serenity 

beware it's motionless stature 

for 

it consumes you with

the greatest capacity 

so deafening it is

that your soul 

is slowly gnawed and nibbled 

until 

you forget
you ever had one. 

beware, beware... 

the insurance agent

has much to offer 

and advise 

on

our future, our stability

our security 

and here he stands

with full assurance 

when he needs it the bloody most 

and here he stands

in full delusion 

embracing and promoting this poison 

calling it happiness 

calling it sanity 

and here we stand 

nodding, nodding, 

like the "adults" we all are

leaving him to sink in this quicksand 

he proudly calls home. 

unity through sound

in familiar stances

amidst strangers 

a momentary lapse

surrounding all

and now

a shared appreciation 

before. 

the curtains are drawn. 

landing back. 

and almost all is lost...

to the grand pretense. 

plan b

back up

back off

butt out 

build up 

bring in 

bring out 

buy in 

buy off 

bugger off 

bail.

question(able) transaction

what affects the interview process and why do we perform a certain way during that process? to mould into another skin, to perform the rehearsed, and why, why, why... in this day and age are we still filling out form after form after forms?! all the yap about modern technology and going green and still, has no one thought of a quicker, more efficient way to get someone's particulars without having to fill out forms? anyways, forms aside and back to the main points. what and why? it seems we have not evolved much from our ancestors and surely, there has to be a better, quicker, more efficient way for recruitment. 

oh well. 

confuzzled

how is it that humans are lauded for work that isn't originally crafted? oh gosh, yes, i forgot! i'm back on planet earth again. to the emerald city, i return. 

--- 

reflection note: is gryswtr sending out too much negative energy? apologies if so, but... 

constant calamity

like a nagging dry cough. 

like a bone in your throat. 

like a splinter, like a sore. 

like a scratch on your car door.

as irritating as can be,

the best you will ever live to be. 

like the irritants of the world, 

like everything we wish 

to NEVER be. 

want not, 

waste not. 

the lights are on

but no one's home. and you wonder why  everyone's laughing.

careful, now. 

soaking in superficiality

the colgate smiles and the exchange of complements and the how do you do's and this and that and drinking overpriced wine you don't really like and paying for music renditions which are already overplayed on the radio. oh, you know the lyrics too? good on ya, then. i see your shoulders moving and over there, i see your foot tapping but why won't you stand up to dance? can't even lift your dainty fingers to clap? oh, it's not cool...and it's juvenile is it? my bad, then. 

--- 

indeed, tragedy and trauma screams louder than tranquility. the empty vessel, the misbegotten conduct. and yet, the conduct that is favoured by most. 

theatrical antiques

nothing fun-er than watching pro wrestling on a saturday night at a community centre. what, what?! 

the late commute

rest those tired eyes of yours. shut them tight and let your shoulders fall. lower your cap and dream away. oh, the luxury of claiming a seat and catching a few seconds for yourself. before you alight and your mechanical self gets back into routine. when payday is all you ever cared about. when happiness is supposedly achieved by being debt-free, by accommodating to your supposed needs and wants and repeat repeat repeating this cycle. day in. day out. 

what have you become? what have they made you become?

when choices aren't really options at all. when conformity becomes the basis of security. 

what has reduced you to such standards disguised as top notch when really, 

it is the lowest form of all. 

- 

you have reached your station. 

time to wake up. 

"doors are closing." 

an aural annoyance

there are grown men in the playground downstairs from where i live. before i had a peek, all i heard were shouting.  like madmen who had ran out of antidepressants or perhaps stung by bees. it also seemed like they could be secretly supplied with all the lozenges in the world including unlimited voice rehab treatments. yes, there was a lot of shouting and yes, it was very.loud. of course i had to take a peek. to see if it would continue and if any human or animal was in danger. lo and behold, 7 (somewhat) grown men doing push ups and attempting to stand on their heads. they do not appear to be drunk but what compels them to do such activities at this time of the night on a weekday is beyond logic. i am tempted to throw a bag of ice cubes at them but 1)i don't want to waste my ice cubes 2)my throwing skills aren't much to brag about. and why do i want to do such? because simply i have zero tolerance for such sounds. at this time of the night.

so what do i do? 

i vent  in hopes they will shut the hell up and migrate to another playground far far away and yonder. 

well. 

well! 

did an invisible genie just hang out on my shoulder and grant my wish? thank you genie. too kind you are and to others you shall service. 

go watch american horror story. 

the last sacrifice

how often do we think of our final breath, our final moment?
how often do we imagine and fantasize this idealistic vision in our heads?
does the vision change for you or has it always been the same?
do you imagine too much or not often enough?
are these questions even helping at all?

-

it helps to communicate on a regular basis.
to communicate wisely, to communicate with purpose.
when truth is twisted and tugged at the knots, what is your sole reason for every movement?
action? decision?

how much further do we dig our rabbit holes before we realize there shouldn't be any in the first place?
when will we realize we've been far too privileged?

-

sometimes the day can seem cloudy and suffocating even,
but never let 'it' / 'them' consume you.
never. and remember.

performing a portrait

when repentance is a factor of conversation, competition. when modesty becomes a runway show more than anything else. you get an A for effort for sure. but you also get daggers for friends and devils for companions. and before you know it, the rewards flow through your fingers like sand. nothing but an empty soul clothed in tracing paper. 

steady now, hold your horses. pull the reins back and get back down. 

stop moving. 

just. stop. 

the concretes of youth

still stands strong. 

in the same shade, texture. 

architecture. 

for if these walls could talk.

and if they could capture the innocence of now, before and yonder.

and if. 

will twenty years from now still see you.

see me, seeing you. 

it was impossible to think of it before.

it could be possible in the future. 

but will it still stand strong? 

or pretend to even look it? 

will i still remember? 

do i even want to, then? 

--- 

memory lane is not a funny place to visit. not in the least. 

the tongue that tastes

make or break with words you said. diminishing all forms of thought and memories made. with a single sound or sigh that punctuates your breath, you either kill a moment or immortalise it. unknowingly, yet with full intention. 

--- 

the day has been blessed with good food, laughter and a whole lot of patience. >> such virtue which i once thought only existed in a parallel world. perhaps i should give myself more credit than i usually do. perhaps i should. 

of space and intrusion

let security and stability not be the root of your evil. not even your own flesh and blood. for to break into the homes of others as your bread and butter is not only maniacal but also guarantees your throne in your version of paradise. 

--- 

last night i dreamt of SAA and the late uncle M. of new garb, new shoes and new shelter. 

dreams can be uplifting. 

listened to le tigre and kate nash. 

the bigger sin

recent studies have shown that envy > regret.

it’s torturous and
it’s sadistic.
it’s pure murder.

what do you achieve with comparisons and what do you achieve with ‘what ifs’?
absofuckinglutely nothing.

so why bother?

unless of course.

you thrive on pain.
you live for suffering and.
you gain joy from beating yourself up  with what you coulda/shoulda/woulda.

-
right, then.

listen to ‘saturday looks good to me’. 

behind schedule

//if only

you could predict
foresee
and foretell
and had it all fuckin' prophesied.

if only.//

but am i damn glad i never boarded your plane.
and relied on limited footwear.

exploit yourself all the way.
but typically, only after.

---
if only...

just consumed 'the punk singer'.
now listening to sauna youth.

the last of 2013 was
: being driven to school (possibly high school but it wasn't the school i went to. the uniform resembled that of st margaret's but it was co-ed?) and did not have my notes in order. upon arrival at pick-up-point, i then noticed the 2 most important files i needed next to me. a classmate then asked how i commuted, i said my dad drove me only to realize that it couldn't be possible... :

some recent course-related dreams (in chronological order) :
:  (1) went for a walk with a tutor and passed by a flea market selling strange antiquities and vintage trinkets. detoured from the walk and went to visit a friend's cafe instead. (2) saw myself seated in a seminar and saw another tutor seated not too far away and quickly made my exit. (3) attended the lecture of tutor in (1) and saved some seats for my course mates but they opted to sit elsewhere. (4) hung out with tutor in (2) and discussed the history of greenday. the band. (5) went back to supposedly volunteer and help out with the new candidates and saw they had to watch a video during orientation which i didn't. and i was glad i didn't have to and they were then made to do some really trivial group task. and again i was glad i didn't have to. quickly collected my luggage and left.:

there is no logical explanation to those last 5 dreams but merely the fact that my mind was absolutely occupied with nothing else but surviving the course. perhaps to ace it was stretching my goals a little too high but hey, it is okay to have ambition and to aim for the best. yes, disappointment for not achieving what i aimed but no regrets for embarking on such a battle and getting through it.

as with all other battles.
and still fighting some.

2013 - you have been challenging from day 1 and while most hope for a better year, i can't even begin to wonder what 'better' really is.

words go forwards and back. type. backspace. type. delete. type. pause.

---

there is a reason.
there is a purpose.
there is a cause.

nobody might care. but so what, eh? :)

//  the new year was greeted with the consumption of 'sound city'. a good documentary to watch. try to ignore the main marketing campaign behind it all but hey, be inspired. go inspire. go. //