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That without you is how I disappear,
And live my life alone forever now.
And without you is how I disappear,
And live my life alone forever now.
Can you hear me cry out to you?
Words I thought I’d choke on figure out.
I’m really not so with you anymore.
I’m just a ghost,
So I can’t hurt you anymore,
So you can’t hurt me anymore.
You give up after a while. You begin to realise that no one’s ever going to be there for you, and somehow it just works. Everything falls into place, you’ve got a new perspective on life, and you’re probably going to be a whole lot happier when you need someone to be there but just can’t find anyone.
I think I gave up last night. I stopped expecting anything help from people. Haha, friends even. After, what are friends but people? I even gave up in the great and powerful Satan and all his fucked up gimmicks. Look, I was really trying to sell my soul last night, but you didn’t come? Now it’s for keeps.
But I guess he didn’t come last night because he already knows that he has my soul wriggling in the palm of his hand. My weak, pathetic soul that always needed that someone to be there, who never was. I guess that makes me a little piece of worm shit or something.
I stopped believing in God a really long time ago so I didn’t even bother.
I guess I stopped believing in people too last night.
Ideals, ideals are all but shams
Oh please just shut your clams.
Friendship is a giant lie.
I won’t need you when I die.
There was some point when I just stopped feeling anything. Like how I don’t feel anything at all right now. I used to eagerly anticipate someone starting and MSN convo with me or sending me some kind of sms or something. But I now I know that none of that shit’s going to happen. People don’t care about me, you see. It’s like that line from Bohemian Rhapsody that goes “I’m just a poor boy, I need no sympathy”. Haha.
I find myself living in my songs. Hiding and biding my time away in my iPod. It’s been my best friend on so many occasions, I can’t even remember how many times it’s actually saved my life. But what’s it saving me from? A life of further degeneration? Friends who never seem to be there? Friends that I’m losing my grip on? Parents who will never understand? Or a “me” that’s so completely broken inside, all you see on the outside is your reflection in the shattered glass.
I can’t hold on to my friends. I know at some point they’ll all just drift away and there’ll eventually come a point when I’m just too tired to learn how to make new ones. I’m trying very hard to feel something for this, but I can’t anymore. It all just went away last night.
I can imagine what anyone who reads this will say to me. Haha. It’ll definitely have a Haha in it. Or a lol. Something to break the tension. Then they’ll struggle really long and you’ll see the MSN message at the bottom flickering between “typing something” and “last message received”. Then they’ll end it off with an “Oh well”. They won’t actually say anything, and they don’t really mean anything even if they did say it.
Oh wait, who am I kidding? No one talks to me on MSN anyways. Haha.
So thank you for never being there, and This Is How I Disappear.
I’ve been having a crisis of faith (provided I had any) after reading Time’s article on Mother Teresa. Her letters to God and confessions made me think, how do you do something that you have no faith in yourself? And then I realised that I had been doing this all along myself. I don’t believe in whatever I tell others to believe in at all. Like even when I tell people to keep holding on to something, I already lost hope in whatever I held on to.
Sometimes I wish for a sign, divine judgment or something, like just smite someone once for a change? People deserve it anyway. This world is seriously condemned, like sure, I know the Bible says that we can’t ever be like Jesus and fulfill all Ten Commandments but we don’t exactly have to throw all the rules out the window do we? There’s always an excuse for sinning, but mostly it’s because people like it I guess. People break so many rules everyday, but I guess it’s alright if you don’t see it. I do though, it’s kinda sad.
In a way, porn opens your eyes up to a lot of things. Bad things. Like even though some people like to tell you that watching porn leaves you open to demonic influences and stuff, like it leads to possession because it turns you into a gateway for demonic legions to pour through and ravage your mortal frame. All that bullshit. For me, all it did was made me realise that this world is full of sick, twisted individuals that would do anything for money or lust. And that even in the most hardcore types of porn, the most disgusting and violent ones like incest, BDSM, rape and all that shit, even though most of them are just acted out, it only appeals to audiences because people secretly like it.
Because everyone is sick and twisted inside.
Here’s a video by Shadows Fall. Redemption.
The Bourne Ultimatum is freaking cool. Jason Bourne is THE most imba/l33t/sexay/fadge fictional human being that will ever grace the silver screen. This guy makes Jackie Chan look like Michael Jackson.
Here is an example of Bourne’s prowess.
Nuckin’ futs? Yeah, tell me about it. A book and a towel? Like, this guy totally thrashes James Bond and a hundred other wannabe spy dudes. Where would James Bond be without his ultra-cool spy gadgets and manhood? At the bottom of a lake rotting away I tell you. But what does Jason Bourne have? Memory lapses? Unreal pre-cognition of events? A BOOK AND A TOWEL?
Bourne gets props for the most inventive use of a book ever. While I’m sure many other people have tried using a book to kill someone (schools being the most obvious one), who can do it with the finesse and grace that Bourne pulls it off with? Okay, what am I talking about. The book is totally badass.
Now I know why most schools don’t recommend hard cover books here.
The towel gets a special mention here too, ultimately being the weapon of choice in incapacitating Desh, an “asset”, just like Bourne. But we’ve all seen the “oh-you-have-something-in-your-hand-but-not-if-i-slam-it-against-the-wall” stunt so many times before so it’s not half as cool as the Book.
And while we’re on the topic of weapons, let me give a shout out to my dear friend, Victoria, who presumably bought a softball bat. (Note: I can’t be sure as of right now because she hasn’t replied, most probably due to “commitments”, heh.) Bats give you an advantage in range, which is cool, because then you can hit stuff that’s far away. But it wouldn’t work so much in a one-on-one situation.
Why? Let’s take a look at this picture.
See how much you have to swing the bat back in order to land a decent hit on a person? That’s the problem you see. For a bat to be properly utilised, you need range. While it can be considered a long-ranged weapon, it need the range for it to be effective. A good swing that goes back far enough plus a follow through is going to hurt a lot more than a bat hit up close. But the time it’ll take for you to draw back and swing is going to give your opponent a great deal of time to react.
And it leaves you open to attacks as well. The alternative position is worse. Position your bat above your head for an overhead strike leaves much of your lower body open to an interrupting blow. This is why kendo practitioners train their overhead strikes ever so religiously. Bear in mind that the weight and shape of the bat is very different from the kendo shinai, which is designed for slicing, whereas the bat is made for bludgeoning.
So really, the only time you’ll be able to use a bat properly is when the person is lying on the ground. Or if you surprise him from behind. Because the most logical thing for anyone to do against a long-ranged weapon is to stay close to the person. You cut off their attack pattern that way.
So yeah. Weapons are cool. And so are dragons. I bought Brimer for myself and Boulder for Zoe.
I’ve had a pretty eventful weekend. I studied (not sure how much actually went in though), and I stayed up till 5 a.m. the past two nights just to study. It’s quieter at night and no one bothers you. My mum does, spasmodically, like she gets up at random times and shuffles out of her room, only to see me on my computer. Then she starts making a hell lot of noise, saying that I’m wasting my time and yada yada yada.
She shouts at me. At 3 a.m. in the morning. When it’s dark outside.
My dad doesn’t seem to be bothered by it though, which is a good thing because he seems like he’s tired all the time. I’ve been keeping myself up with Nescafe Lattes and Clodhoppers and cups of Milo, so I think I’m going to turn diabetic by the time my exams are over. But I’m only doing this because my parents won’t allow me to take Red Bull. They don’t see a reason why I should artificially raise my heart rate.
I used to take Red Bull as a kid I think. When I was really small, my grandma would buy me whatever I wanted, and I wanted Red Bull. It looked really cool at the time in its gold-coloured can and I distinctively remember liking the way it tasted. I don’t know though and I don’t think it really helps keep people awake. I think it’s a psychological thing.
Anyway, I youtubed this song (“The Air That I Breathe”) on a band called All That Remains. I first came across the band in my Zen Of Screaming videos, which had interviews featuring Phil Labonte, the lead singer of All That Remains and the guy you’ll see and hear screaming his head off in the video. I kinda liked the way he sounded on the video, so I finally decided to look up some of their videos. Metalcore can be a bit much for some people, but I guess it’s still a pretty cool video.
Plus, their bassist looks pretty hot. From a distance.
Kinda reminds you of Linkin Park’s “What I’ve Done”, doesn’t it?
Oh how I wish my scream would sound more like them and less like a transsexual porn flick.
I passworded the previous entry because, well, people don’t really like to read that kind of stuff. Some people think it’s offensive, some people think it makes me look weak.
Besides, I stopped feeling that way already. I’ve got extremely volatile emotions, they change colours really quickly. Speaking of colours, I saw a rainbow just now. It was real pretty, but it stopped halfway in the sky so I didn’t bother trying to find a pot of gold at the end. I think it would have ended somewhere here in my estate if it did though. Wish I had a camera to take a picture of it, but my mum still doesn’t want to buy me a camera.
She’s asking for 5 Es for my prelims. I hope I get them. And then the camera.
Anyways, here’s a song from Queen called Bohemian Rhapsody. Awesome song, very very interesting.
Bohemian Rhapsody
Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide,
No escape from reality.
Open your eyes, Look up to the skies and see,
I’m just a poor boy, I need no sympathy,
Because I’m easy come, easy go, little high, little low,
Any way the wind blows doesn’t really matter to me, to me.
Mama just killed a man,
Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger, now he’s dead.
Mama, life had just begun,
But now I’ve gone and thrown it all away.
Mama, ooh, didn’t mean to make you cry,
If I’m not back again this time tomorrow,
Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters.
Too late, my time has come,
Sends shivers down my spine, body’s aching all the time.
Goodbye, ev’rybody, I’ve got to go,
Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth.
Mama, ooh, I don’t want to die,
I sometimes wish I’d never been born at all.
I see a little silhouette of a man,
Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango.
Thunderbolt and lightning, very, very fright’ning me.
(Galileo.) Galileo. (Galileo.) Galileo, Galileo figaro
Magnifico. I’m just a poor boy and nobody loves me.
He’s just a poor boy from a poor family,
Spare him his life from this monstruosity.
Easy come, easy go, will you let me go.
Bismillah! No, we will not let you go.
(Let him go!) Bismillah! We will not let you go.
(Let him go!) Bismillah! We will not let you go.
(Let me go.) Will not let you go.
(Let me go.) Will not let you go. (Let me go.) Ah.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
(Oh mama mia, mama mia.) Mama mia, let me go.
Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for me.
So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye.
So you think you can love me and leave me to die.
Oh, baby, can’t do this to me, baby,
Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here.
Nothing really matters, Anyone can see,
Nothing really matters,
Nothing really matters to me.
Any way the wind blows.
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