Hiatus

You know what that means.

Ah Shit

Sometimes, people really get into your nerves. And if it happens... Damn, boy.

Sleep, Glorious Sleep

Sleep is glorious. It is a human being's basic form of physical regeneration from lack of sleep itself, exhaustion, whatever shit - you name it. Sleeping is the optimal form of physical rest because one temporarily stops utilizing the whole body for whatever purpose and it's just left lying down in a bed or something.

Sleep also grants mental rest as well. The mind temporarily stops thinking about the past, present and future and relieves itself of stress. The brain runs in tranquility and serenity, granting its owner the state called "peace of mind."

Moreover, sleep makes you happy.

And when you sleep, you dream. When you dream, you encounter one of the wonderful phenomena of life. When you encounter one of the wonderful phenomena of life, you wonder how wonderful life is. When you wonder how wonderful life is, you think of everything else. When you think of everything else, you get tired. When you get tired...

Do fucking sleep.

Ironic

It's very interesting why the people you trust the most...

Gives the trust you gave them back to you and tell you...

"I don't fucking care."

I don't give a shit either.

I Didn't Know That

Well here's something really cool. I once forged this thing called "heart" in the fires of enthusiasm and sincerity. It was powerful enough - being my own Excalibur to fend off impurities to the word "love." I tried to make that heart stand for true love.

Sometimes, you just lose the war.

It looks like this: this so-called heart I offered to that someone declined what I willingly gave her and she gave it back to me. So me, being dumbfounded at the time, thought that that heart would be of no use. Still, I kept it.

After several months of intense and rigorous analysis, I now conclude that this thing I worked hard for called "heart" is nothing but a stinky little piece of shit. So while I was walking home just this afternoon I threw it away. I don't know where it landed though but I hope it gets destroyed. I don't care now that it's out of me. At least I got one of my hands free.

Although I'm willing to forge another one, perhaps a stronger and more determined one, for a special someone, I'm afraid that I'd be deliberately wasting my time.

Now I know what this is: Bitterness. I should stop ranting, like, now? Yes. This ain't getting me anywhere and I'm simply igniting my own entropy.

Just Fine

Everything seems just fine. I mean, everything in my life right now is flowing smoothly and slowly through some endless vortex tunnel, or rather swirling in tranquility down a vessel of infinity towards what we call "the future." The problem with this ongoing phenomenon is that, being a body of some sort of liquid, one takes an indefinite shape and becomes relentless in velocity.

To achieve a consciousness that enables the self to be aware of such reality, reality itself should act upon the fate of a certain self - perhaps being a bottle somewhere down the path that would catch all the water and seal it within. Yet that bottle continues to flow or fall. Although relentless in speed and direction, now the water takes a definite form.

BOOM. The bottle breaks once it hits something hard. The reality breaks into the water's awareness. The water may not be hurt, but it sees what it is to be hurt and broken. This is what we call consciousness.

Now that the water is scattered into droplets, there must be some natural force that should act on it for it be able to collect itself once more into one single body and continue its trail down the path of life - be it flowing in a tunnel or swirling down a vessel. To infinity, it is.

If one is a little unlucky though, death may be that next bottle. Good luck.

Plan C

Well Plan B is already half-cooked but I think I'm going to be pitching in my indecisiveness en route to Plan C. Whatever these plans may be, I assure the 99% success of my methodologies.

The 1% is a bitch.