late night ramble

i feel like an over-filled water balloon. its hanging so heavy its bound to break. and when it breaks, all the water will rush down to the ground leaving nothing behind. it will be satisfying not having to carefully hold it in anymore. but what then? i will be just like the remains of the broken balloon. empty and torn. broken beyond repair.
so what should i do? this anger is overwhelming. its bordering hatred (as if that word is not already strong enough), its excessing disappointment. sure, i can try to bury it for a mere moment of distraction. but is that enough? it will eventually surface and lure me into an exploding mess.

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the origin of love

so, IMO, Lucifer's greatest mistake is that he loves God too much. He was blinded of human worth because of his jealousy and arrogance. Michael's love is as strong, but different in a way. He loves God with his blind obidience. He takes what is given and gives what is asked.

Love is powerful. it can shove you deep down the pit. it can save you from the perdition.

oh its all about off and on

i need a distraction, need something to keep me in motion. wallowing means destruction, so i keep carry on.

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i see

i dreamed of the future
i saw a reflexion in the mirror
i weep for the fool

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sky i miss the old you

hey,
how are you today?
i hope you're ok.
what's the game you play?
can you please stop it right away?
if its my fault please let me pay.
you didn't even let me try.
you just left without goodbye.
do you care if i cry?
if it's a nay just tell me why.
then i'll take out my left eye.
to keep the sadness at bay.
because this eye which cannot lie,
will be better if it doesn't mourn you, sky

(why did you change? what's your game? i don't recognize the new you, i miss the old you)

bleak hope

vain escape mould into the continuity.
leave on the nakedness to seal the misery.
could you pretend that returning darkness reward enough for peace?
that you are not sinking into the anguish?
the perfect dream soon dissolve into a soiled air you're fool enough to breath in.
but still it's haunting in your closed eyes.
ghost to the mind that no longer sane.
makes you crawl when you cannot run.
overwhelms you with the glimmer of the sun.
until you decided to grasp it.
thus begins the vicious circle.

tapping the nose

Some days are simply not the day
When faith begins to fray
When words led you astray
The doom song is at play

suffocated by the present
haunted by the past,
terrified of the future.
Swaying with the steps that always waver.

Because safety is only a myth
And the walls are moving closer.
Racing with the scythe
Yet no exit door for the quitter.

but there's no sense in crying for every lost throne.
Closed heart will not giving back the crown
No mistake in leaving the glory to the untold
Then see that there's always a hand to hold

to stop doesn't mean to freeze.
no reason not to storm in and chase the wind out
No, we're not as big as the great sun.
but we're not as tiny as we think we are.


about 'hope' is justified.
but 'believing' is to survive.
breath.. breath.. the inhales and the exhales are sign that we're alive.
so what do you say?

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milky wayyyne

no use crying over the spilled strawberry milk.. there's still a glass of vanilla milk waiting for you.

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find me 'neath the mask

I love me. but i hate me as a person. Not a good person i tell you. I don't like to be called evil. but seeing myself makes me change my mind. Someone calls it human, i call it necessary evil. there'll be no saint angel without the devil. And the devil lurks, waiting for the right moment to get in action.
I love masks, I love wearing masks. they are beautiful. useful. i can decorate anything on them. happy face, sad face, kind face, misterious face. the mask that can cover anything inside.
but beneath the mask, who am i really? maybe i'm the lurking devil. or maybe the devil is lurking inside me. There's sin in my talk, in my silence, in my walk, in my stop, in my blind, in my sight, in my ignorance, in my care, in my prosperity, in my poverty. God help me, the dancing fairy won't give me my innocence back.

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Edgar

He left me here to die. After all this time taking care of me, he allowed me to be killed. Someone who's like an older brother to me. My only family. 

It was not an easy choice i know. That woman was our only key to front section and we couldn't afford lose her. I was so sorry to put him in this position. It was my fault I got myself caught. I was too weak. But I thought I was worth more than that. More than a simple causalty of war. I didn't want to die. It shouldn't be my time yet. But even after this, I couldnt even brought myself to hate him.

His eyes had begged me to forgive him before he turned and went to chase that woman. I regretted that he must have seen my betrayed look. I hate to add more sadness to that sky-dark eyes. The responsibility he had to shoulder on was already over-weighting him. So it's ok Curtis, finish our fight with your pretty head held high. I forgive you man. I was honored to have the chance to be your second in command (if I'm being honest, it probably was because I always shamelessly follow you around). And as I said before, you are and will be an amazing leader. Wish me luck getting steak in heaven.

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fun?

having fun together is... well, fun. but it has its downside. We change into a dependent person. And thats ugly. We can't have fun if our buddies are busy. sometimes negative thinking rears its boring head. We become too wary and paranoid. We need them to have fun but we're not sure that they can't have fun without us. We feel lost when we're alone and it's like we can't function by ourselves. Then we can not breath, the first stage of panic attack before an invinsible hand clutching tightly to our heart, and we died of heart attack. ok, that's umm..

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hobby?

1. I love my keyboard, i love playing it, and the idea of producing a beautiful music with it. The problem is, i never find anything i play is beautiful. its been years and i've been better since my first video below. but still, doesn't matter how hard i practice i still think i'm not good enough and everything i play is crap.

2. i love drawing... or i used to love it with passion. i know i can't be a professional but at least i have hands for it. with enough practice i'm sure i can tackle some drawings that are impossible for me. But never underestimate lazyness. That what makes me stop drawing. Ridiculous isn't it?.

3. Video editing is fun. But it needs a lot of time and a stable internet, which i don't have.

4. i used to write a couple of years ago before i decided to learn language first to make a decent writing.

5. What i constantly love before, between, and after number one until four is reading. I can't stop it even if i want to. eighty percent of the things i read is not a good reading. but as long as they give me something i will never change my preference.

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positive thinking

i can't find a fault in positive thinking. so why not?

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watching rewatching rerewatching

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fyw

i feel like a stretched tread. stretched too thin
then it will snap. thought i finally got to the bottom but it hurts to be proven wrong. well, lets see how much wrong i am.

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guh

funny how i always become so sleepy at minutes past twelve when i supposed to start playing.

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old fanart

http://hp-sexstars.livejournal.com/20982.html

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Days (of repents)

Scavenging the magnanimity.

Trembling fear blames the temerity.
Inked prayer welded into the skin.

Deluding words to purify the sin.

It bothers me how bleak the left eye is.
Finding fault even at the start of the bliss.
The past which when it all began.
Ghost to the mind no longer sane.

how come the blessed one crumbles?

Was the journey no longer victorious? 

how come the righteous one stumbles?

Has heaven finally got mischievous?

harsh colors turn into a soft grey.

swirling slowly in search of a ley.

a quest to find the ancient white.

a race with the time of a scythe.

dear my friend

you know how bright your future is. you know how it feels to be happy. how it feels to love somebody and to be loved. congratulation, i think. you've got your talent, you've got ppl that admire you. yeah maybe ppl see that you're not on the right path right now. but the most important thing's you've got what you wanted right?. you're in cloud nine with no threat to go down. that's good right?. everyone envy you, me too, envy you. so much that it hurts. i don't know if i'm brave enough to follow your path. or if i can. so i don't want to ponder it too much. but i envy you. enjoy your life. i will see you from here. wanting what you have. 

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running nose

oh how cruel you are.
drop every drop escaping my nose.
snort every snort disturbing the crowd.
snot every snot,
oh don't look at my face!
for there must be a mess.
trail of liquid that having a race.
don't y'all need a rest?
embarrassing can't cover it all.
the tissue can't catch them all.
the pil will just slacking off
my nose still itch
and i still sneeze, sneeze, and.. snort..

(yeah i know how disgusting it is)

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rantrantrant

I don't even know why?
there's a blog says that 'ALMOST ALL' Torchwood fics are bottom!Ianto. Really? so why ALMOST ALL fics i found are bottom!Jack??! i don't want to be a jackass but bottom!Jack makes me weep. its just not my cup of tea. i can't see Ianto as a top even if i don't mind him being a dominant. Maybe i have to blame it on a regular bad luck, but why there's no a single bottom!ianto fic list when i can easily find bottom!Jack fics? i can't read switching either. sometimes i hate myself. →_→

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one

i can't explain
but i can give you the feeling
the sensation of falling
down down rushing with the rain
seconds are ticking to the ground
felt like a lifetime
i tried to embrace the resisting wind
arms felt so full yet they're empty
the doom beset outrode my death

Owen

Where is the misery when you can't see it?
it's here along with all the beers
a daunting color in it's reign
rein him 'till he's turning blue
tell you what? i ain't got no clue
he wish you can rip it out of his heart
so he can go back to the shadow, his former self
he won't ever admit to admit defeat
he just wanna go back to the shadow, his former self
where there she is
the origin of his misery
the chorus is soothing through the blaring sound
he's gripping tight to the so called profound bond
at least he's reaching tho so it must be something
she must be proud...
in his former self, where she is now...
Where is the misery when you can't see it?
Owen is keeping it.