Melodious Conflict

Atmosphere 28 - Repeat The Phrase

2009-05-26T10:33:00.000-07:00

(Mood: Content (?) )
(Sound Waves: 'Starry Sky -YEAH remix - Daft Punk/Capsule/Beastie Boys)

Pure Intentions

Upgrade, degrade, where's the level headed
Unlocking of the heart's content
Of amazement
That filled me with excitement
All these years, instead there are tears
And fears
Unregrettable times when you came so near
To ripping my heart out.
What doubt?
You flapped like a trout's mouth
So uncouth of you
To say you were true when really you
Were not.
And the doubt was not
Caught in the hands of bout
Instead they slipped
Tripped
And flipped coins to decide
What came from the inside
Instead you took your time
Decided to abide
And waved goodbye
To what we once were.

Atmosphere 27 - Time

2009-04-16T13:44:00.001-07:00

(Mood: Drained)
(Sound Waves: Your Love Is A Drug - Puffy AmiYumi)

Le temps est éternel

A clock is the symbol of change, keeps going forward, never-ending.

It comes in gears, in cogs, in dials, in digital images in a LCD screen.

It is a round table with twelve numbers and like ancestors, keep watching over me as I watch them in anticipation.

It has two hands, keeping it halfway, partway, a quarter for the days, one for the moments.

It ticks away the days, the weeks, the months, the years, in an ecstatic, painful pace.

It ticks away the seconds, like a countdown, towards completing meager duties and tasks.

It chants the lonely, tedious sound that keeps one company in an empty house.

It turns AM into PM, through the looming dusk, the rising sun, the twilight, the daybreak, ongoing.

It keeps one wanting it to stay, waiting for it to leave.

It tells stories, it tells lies.

It tells when the game's on, to force the meeting to stop, to be in her arms again.

A clock keeps the time loosely yet firmly against its chest, onto its sweaty wrist, yearning for that something that might or never come.

Atmosphere 26 - Direction

2009-02-21T11:18:00.000-08:00

Mood: Very frustrated
Sound Waves: Nothing

Chores

I wish I could listen to you.
And listen well
Instead of my eardrums being beaten alive
Senseless and doubtless by a "higher mammal"
Self-approach to life.
Better than the complication of discipline
And respect for two sides.
Rather that than the ruthless assault of
Sarcastic enthusiasm and meaningless
Advice that is rotten but not an inch
Comforting.
I wish I could listen to you
For whatever things I've done, its never good
Enough for you.

Will you be happy then?

Atmosphere 25 - La Lune

2009-02-19T14:31:00.001-08:00

Mood: Very drained
Sound Waves: Moon On The Water - BEAT CRUSADERS

Revolution

This feeling is like the biggest comeback for

the least known boy band,

faith thrown at a construction worker,

soundwaves used for hot pads,

like misua noodles lit into fireworks,

a copter laughing at a screen door,

a baby blue cowboy missing capoiera lessons,

greens used for aesthetics purposes.

Its like a jalepeno dressed in leather,

an 8-track gone hip in '07,

a cutie chaser, wearing pincushions on his elbows,

a stupid barber with a butterfly knife,

synchronized krump dancing with azurite,

like the 8th dwarf, a mullet rocker on electric sitar,

the word that rhymes with platypus,

like a hierophant with a royal egg blue Beam Katana.

Its like raising Oni's legimate nephews,

honey punch with a twist of seduction,

a chandelier curtsying its brass mirror partner,

a black sheep family,

the screen blinking "He's not there" over and over again,

wearing sunglasses at inauguration day,

the witch doctor's words to win my way

into your heart.

Its like a dial tone come to life,

an everlasting sky, with inspiration made of sadness and rain,

a stray dog howling eternally at the bittersweet universe,

a mother seeing her child for the first and last time,

a feather storm made out of freedom,

a miracle twice overlooked then believed.

Atmosphere 24 - All over for Overall

2009-02-18T16:12:00.000-08:00

Mood: Frustrated
Sound Waves: Decode - Paramore

I silently dream on about my mortal end
While my worried mind tosses and turns
From the calamity my conscious caused
As the sunrise rolls down from Haven's sky

While my worried mind tosses and turns
Insomnia waltzes me towards Mania
As the sunrise rolls down from Haven's sky
The uneasy feeling does not leave

Insomnia waltzes me towards Mania
These nights are driving me to the cliffside of Delirium
The uneasy feeling does not leave
For tomorrow is threatening to take my life

These nights are driving me to the cliffside of Delirium
From the calamity my conscious caused
For tomorrow is threatening to take my life
I silently dream on about my mortal end.

Atmosphere 23 - October Rose

2009-02-11T11:22:00.000-08:00

Mood: Happy
Sound Waves: Dress - Abingdon Boys School

Green Ribbon

Her words didn't reach
My brain. Pieces of him
Began to pierce me.

Consumming my soul,
They inprint into my mind.
My dreams dashed out, sealed.

"Dear my love, I've left."
Deprived me into ashes,
My blood stops stiff.

My selfish love for him
Is displayed in these eyes full
Of regret, sorrow.

Now those words are now
Just a shadow of a dream
Fully spent, now gone.

Atmosphere 22 - Too Good For Me?

2009-01-27T09:59:00.001-08:00

Mood: Content

Sound Waves: If You Were Here - JENNIFER

The train's gone and I am standing alone

I think of you and wonder if you think of me too

I'm back to the town that I was born in

To think of my life and to start it over with you

Cause you know we've been in a maze of love

And we are losing control to get away

Here I am walking on the hill in this town

Like in my childhood that seems like yesterday

If you were here with me

You could feel the way I do now

If you were here with me

You could see what I am looking for now.

Atmosphere 21 - back2back

2009-01-22T10:06:00.000-08:00

Mood: A little frustrated and tired
Sound Waves: Loveholic - Sana

Guardian

Thank you for the memories

It was never my decision to begin with

Hold my hand till I need to go

Its just for a short time

It was never my decision to begin with

For now I need to be set free

Its just for a short time

Lets not turn it all into regrets

For now I need to be set free

Life is spent on the earth then we fly

Lets not turn it all into regrets

Someday we'll meet again

Life is spent on the earth then we fly

Hold my hand till I need to go

Someday we'll meet again

Thank you for the memories.

Atmosphere 20 - Polystyrene

2009-01-21T17:26:00.000-08:00

Mood: Tired
Sound Waves: None

Puppeteer

With a grunt,
he pulled over the plastic
covering of his lonesome
Cadillac, breathing in the quiet breeze of Spring.
The morning seemed almost perfect.

So long ago did his perfect
wife left with a disgruntled
temper on his 47th Spring.
He handled her like a plastic
doll, with misty
eyes that were lonely.

Now he felt the same loneliness
crawl into his perfect
sales manager skin, mystifying
his conscience into a grunted
mess of plastering
feelings, unable to spring.

She reminded him of poinsettias in Spring,
making her lose her loneliness
of her material plastic
desires. She was the image of perfection.
He remembered only the grumbling
day when she lift like fog's mist.

He tries with all his might to stop the mist
from blinding his eyes. He wanted Spring
to not begin so disgruntled.
How could he when his loneliness
won him out of any perfect
situation? It was the fault of that doll of plastic.

That was a year ago. Now her plastic
eyes greet his with a new kind of mist
covering her sight. She looked like the same perfect
image like before, as if Spring
came early, right on time. He felt the loneliness
lift away, with it, his fury ending in a grunt.

His 48th Spring came, and with a grunt.
he welcomed the perfect angel like a plastic doll.
Again, the lonesome melody emerged from past mists.

Atmosphere 19 - Emoticon

2009-01-13T15:50:00.000-08:00

Mood: Excited/Tired
Sound Waves: Yozora No Kawa - Ryoutarou Okiayu

Second Glance

I grow in mind, but not in spirit.
I have grown so diluted, away from the pure
Sense of thinking that gave me strength.
No one's out there to give me resolve
Because the world is so full of pride
That they hold their hearts in defense.

Is it me then? Holding my own in a stone defense
And letting down these dreary spirits?
Or maybe its just my stubborn pride
Not letting it melt to become pure?
I could grasp to the resolve
I tried to make, with this false strength...

No tears have given me enough strength.
No blood has shielded me in defense.
I could only think without resolve
Yet my body is detached without spirit.
I know it's not pure;
It's full of its stubborn pride.

Taking a step at a time, fall back proudly
Away, just to keep full strength.
Why, I ask, am I not pure?
Why can't I let my arms down from defending?
The night can take away my spirits.
The day can take away my resolve.
But only you could take away my strength.

This life is a weakened resolve
Because I am so hateful, too full of pride.
To you, I am now a spirit,
Drifting out of your heart, with little strength.
You have more of a defense
Than I'll ever have with this dirtied purity.

I could try to be in your light of purity
But nothing can be so easily resolved.
I keep these eyes directed down in defense,
Unaware that I'm inflating, burning in pride.
Cheeks burn, stomach flares from too much strength
I have lost contact with your spirit.

My prideful body is broken, without spirit.
I stand defenseless in front of you now, with pure
Intentions in full strength, but fallen without resolve.

Atmosphere 18 - Faring

2009-01-12T10:53:00.000-08:00

Mood: Working

Sound Waves: Our "WORLD" - Namikawa Daisuke

Parting

Say goodbye forever

Because hello just isn't enough

Drop down the white surrender flag

Now is the time to bid adieu

Because hello just isn't enough

The whispers scream to bargain

Now is the time to bid adieu

To a life longed to be regretted

The whispers scream to bargain

For strength, in exchange for loss

To a life longed to be regretted

Stand tall, be brave, move on

For strength, in exchange for loss

Drop down the white surrender flag

Stand tall, be brave, move on

Say goodbye forever

Atmosphere 17 - Phantom Mirror

2009-01-09T11:09:00.000-08:00

Mood: Tired

Sound Waves: Your Love Is A Drug - Puffy AmiYumi

Everlong

(Six Words: world, movie, ribbon, wings, metal, blood)

You round me up, you're whirling my world,

Unfurling like skits from a high-rise movie.

Your love is like a ribbon,

You lift me up like trying wings,

Only when I fall, do I collide with metal

And taste the smell of defeat, blood.

But you don't let me taste, smell, my blood

Instead you whirl around my world,

Endlessly on the surface of metal.

I feel like a dizzying ballerina in a high rise movie,

Your energy like hopeful wings,

Wrap me around in your love, like endless ribbons.

Don't cut lose this feeling, our strip of velveteen ribbon,

Don't let the feelings gush through like fresh blood.

I don't want to fall with these baby wings

For you are the unborn universe inside, my singing world,

For you remake everything into a perfect movie.

I don't want to feel the cold, harmful surface of metal,

Nor do I want our new life cut into julienne strips of ribbons.

I don't want the director to scream "CUT" in our high-rise movie.

Nor want to spread this love through tainted blood.

It would break me, my world

It would tear, unleavened these immature wings.

I want to keep this memory, unfolding like sleepy falcon's wings,

It has comforted me from the winter cold of industrial's metal

I want you to hold me like you hold your eyes amongst the world

Like tying the knot to your to-be's yellow ribbon

I want to shed tainted blood

I want to be your supporting actress in your high-rise movie.

This isn't like skits from a low-budget movie

It is more like whitened angel's wings

It's not dripping to the rim with your blood

Its tasting more sweeter than metal.

I want to be entangled in this love ribbon

I want to be your world.

From the metal surfaces, I make you my world.

I don't want wrathful blood shed in our high-rise movie

We can soar with these ribbon-less, trying wings.

Atmosphere 16 - Eloquant Sources

2008-12-05T10:34:00.000-08:00

Mood: Apprehensive
Sound Waves: MOVIN! by Takacha

Park bench

The crack etches of mahogany paint, applied only a few years back, were its only symbols of its integrity for holding a little longer for a century or so. The worksman knew this piece of curvish iron furniture had seen more than a box of fruit ever did. It even had the grandeu view of City Hall, just a few meters away between the lawn-mow friendly patch of snow.

As he observed the ancient artifact's many scars and markings (mainly a permanent heart with teenage love engraved and dents that managed to mar their way through the cold surface), the worker knew it had done its job quite to perfection.

The melancholic cooing of the flock of ruffled pigeons nearby and the scatterbrained chatter of a salad mix of children in their winter clothes was a nostalgic thing to see in this time of year. For one that has only depended on his leather case and silver watch for a mere twenty years, the worksman took in a whiff of the distant dead maple trees, the crushing steps his fancy shoes made in the pure, virgin snow, the foggy precipitation sending warning signals up his erect spine of another permanent day indoors.

The worksman's squinty eyes scanned the park with only the fading feeling of a longer summer, warming his conscious little by little from the ironcast cold.

Atmosphere 15 - Broken Nail

2008-12-04T10:08:00.000-08:00

Mood: Angered

Sound Waves: SIX Feelings by Junichi Suwabe

"Besides smiling, name another way people express happiness"

I can make an upside down rainbow

Burst into candy rain, sweetened with

The exuberance of delightful radiance.

I can share my lungful jubilee

To others around me

And it'll infect them so much, they'll

Cry tears of mirth for trying to resist.

I can communicate my own body to

Signify the felicitous euphoria

Through these limbs of self-control.

Let them break its bonds and let them

Feel what it is meant by the universal shout.

Whatever feeling I have that wants to be heard

I shall make itself known.

Then, there are some that don't even show the inside

Of their spiral-shaped shells, afraid of

What little they can offer.

To receive is to give.

With just gently rocking someone's perseverance,

A world is driven back from a forgiving cause.

Atmosphere 14 - Waste of Emotions

2008-12-01T09:48:00.000-08:00

Mood: Kind of Lonely

Sound Waves: Fuyu No Hanabi - Gin Ichimaru & Rangiku Matsumoto

Roses Still Red

How long has it been since the feeling

I didn't want to have, suddenly start

Stuttering and making a complete fool

Out of myself?

I didn't know that the long awaited

Feelings of suffering accusations

Would hurt me this bad

I knew there was something wrong with

The picture consisting of a green

Hearted girl, silver haired boy

I have given away whatever hope I

Had believed I obtained

Knowing that the dead feeling still

Wants to be noticed.

How selfless can I get?

Amosphere 13 - Misty

2008-11-28T12:44:00.000-08:00

Mood: Depressed
Sound Waves: News From The Front by Bad Religion

Desperation

Judged only by her DNA samples and false prayers

All they really see is the surface of her crimes

She can bloom only in the frozen rays of the sun

Smiling only when the ice needs to break.

Nobody knows if she is steadily

Drowning in the rain's embrace

Or wishing the minature figurine

Of a past she would want to forget but

Couldn't from the averting eyes.

The rain lets off

and she's the only one overlooking the happy ongoers of Earth

An angel?

Atmosphere 12 - Caffeine

2008-11-26T08:45:00.000-08:00

Mood: Drained

Sound Waves: LIFE by YUI

Oil Smell (the small restaurant)

First thing I notice: the chairs and tables.

What I can yank back from yesterday

Is that the table top's pattern didn't

Look the same. (Or... maybe it was

Just the November chill getting into my nerves.)

I smell the sizzling oil of

Bubbling fast food, served warm

On sensational smelling salted

Ceramics. I can hear the crisp

Crunch of earth-tiled flooring and

Quick transactions to visitors

Old and new, all the same, all diverse.

The eyes try to drink the familiar

Images in, but can't bring up any

Fonder memories, since the last time

They visited.

Atmosphere 11 - Fortuna

2008-11-24T11:19:00.000-08:00

Mood: Gloomy

Sound Waves: Boats and Birds by Gregory and the Hawk

Lucky (A series)

Scrub out all the grime on top of

The dusty, fleshy cabinet.

The reddened sky, knife etched graffiti

Will be rid tonight.

So she says that she'll meet

Him first, not steadily recognizing

The stinging slap of the other's

Poison deep covetousness.

The fortunate bastard; Thinks that

Whatever comes to mind, should

Be chiseled into his planned epitaph.

And there goes turned faces and beliefs.

What if they broke up? What if

There was already a gaping hole

In the presumed elastic fabric?

At least someone's listening.

Why me, you ask?

Instead, do tell:

Why you? It is not

Any different.

Atmosphere Air 10 - Snapshots

2008-11-20T15:09:00.000-08:00

Mood: Lonely/Productive
Sound Waves: Always With Me in the Spirited Away Soundtrack

Series of Short Poems

The Hitman

He is a tall dark stranger, lulling whoever

He sees with his trance-like gaze

He has skin glistening with rave music

And alcohol-poisoned streaks

He has a voice that burns inside my veins--

The one that denies he's already flirted

With the social butterflies, but hasn't

Retrieved all of the pollen from a certain

Wallflower in the sidelines.

I could hear it among the beats of

Wailing voices

Wanting something out from this night

Of limited seduction.

He has caught me, where he wants me

To be.

He's lit up some interior stove I

Never knew I had installed there.

Amid the shouts of unwanted want,

Much needed desire

Its selfish but all five senses are

Broken

This man has taken contrl of what I

Still have left of me.

The thrill-filled part of it all--

I don't want to break this

Given, blessed chance

"One look could kill. My pain, your thrill"

The Bridesmaid and Admirer

-bridesmaid:

Why am I always a bridesmaid,

Never the blushing bride?

Ding! Dong! Wedding bells

Always ring for other gals

But one fine day--

Please let it be soon--

I shall wake up in the morning

On my own honeymoon.

-admirer:

You're a beauty, saved up for the better

That bride may look happy, but you will too.

Bing! Bong! Wedding bells

May ring for other gals

But you'll look forward to it

You're not a girl who'd quit

You'll wake up every morning

In your own special honeymoon.

Trust

This isn't a new, heavy-weighted feeling

That is invisible to the eye but

Painstakenly there in the blue

Pale shadows hang out eerily

Over shuddering shoulders, ripping

Away with streams carved out from

False claims.

No signs have informed strangers

That there is something incresingly wrong

Underneath that hollow-eyed smile

The screams echo and bounc playfully

Making their circumference around the

Victims and victimizers

"You've lost the fight"

"You're useless"

"Hopeless"

"Nothing to gain"

Always written in verbal form, its

Always, always, the victimizer's fault

You want to be helped?

Why aren't you helping me?

Because....you're different

And thus, tis why burning bridges

Fails to annihilate the feelings

Still holding the gun towards

Your frightened mind.

When will I be forgiven for

Whatever I've done?

Will these tears, even spoken out of

The defence stand, say what

I cannot anymore?

Hillside (an 'epilogue' to Trust)

I shouldn't presume anymore

Otherwise I'll constantly spin about

In my lonesome teacup for one

Ancd watch in misery the people

I know who care but

Obviously want to be with

Better, more imaginative people.

This is selfish desires to

Be popular,

Not some childish want of

Being part of the happy

Fruits basket of high school.

Always with me, only my heart.

I say goodbye to whatever childhood I

Would've been glad to live in.

But instead, I dream

This unreachable cloud of tear-soaked

Dreams.

Atmosphere 10 - Crash Dive

2008-11-20T09:48:00.000-08:00

Mood: Agitated/Restless
Sound Waves: Heavenly Star by Genki Rockets

Decision Sledgehammer (rain proof)

Spin the cog on the color wheel
See what you'll get someday
My plans don't include luxuries of treason
You know what I'm talking about: you were there.

Yellow wave length, what a happy time.
Thinking that such ideas we think are steeless
Can everlast the test of time
But ain't it so cruel, we're so cruel and innocent.

Switch to green light, lets go!
We're happy people, wondering when the hell are we gonna grow up.
From the skin of undergraduate knowledge,
To the sky, we can take the world.

Orange prisma lights, shy away from
Feelings of wanting some of that numbing, warming feeling.
We're only human after all.
Its only right to have felt like that.

Blast the blue away, blast the sheets of jargonized talk
Cannon fire sounds like a merry jamboree of twisted people.
Maybe for a little while, we can rip away
From the dark beings of our minds.

Dripping away, red slips from the fray
The numbers greaten, the emotions unfurl their fists,
Could it be just that a hug meant more
Than just contact?

Where did the time go? says pastel indigo
And suddenly the circle turns into that of a wheel not functional
Seems darker than the fireworks we created
So very long time ago.

And purple shadows speak.
We're here now, but just not HERE.
Where do we go now, now that Fate burnt the damn map?
Only our hearts can tell.

Lest not meet again.
I cannot say why
It seemed better with just the memories we left behind.

Atmosphere 9 - Blindfold

2008-11-18T10:12:00.000-08:00

Mood: Accomplished
Sound Waves: Final by Dir en Grey

Blindness

What can you say, to describe
Such a stigma?
Its a curse, its a blessing
Call it what you will--you gain and lose
You see through invisible walls
Run into cemented illusions
Its more than just the exaggerated handicap
Its more of a lifestyle
You gain some piece of Shangri-La
With its peace and tranquility
But there is also, obtained
The feeling that you're screened out from what
You really want to visualize.
Instead, its a bright eclispe you wish to avoid.
You have an untapped wisdom to yield to
But have lost the will to touch walls
With only your hesitant fingertips
And only with your lost voice to lead the way.

Atmosphere 8 - Moon Phases

2008-11-17T11:56:00.000-08:00

Mood: Comtemplative
Sound Waves: "Ichirin no Hana -HUGE HOLLOW MIX- High and Mighty Color

On the concept of love and phases

It is a crisp, summer afternoon. All things are beginning. Little things like these shouldn't bother her.

It blooms like a flower, so delicate, so new. Such concepts are so intricate, they must be handled with a fragile conscience in mind. Simple rules are made diverse; its like turning a cup of water into a vast ocean.

She can't handle such responsibilities. She is reassured that she can. And she tries.

It is a crisp, autumn day. All things are weakening. these issues are more than her expected phone call.

The leaves change colors, along with the seasons. Personalities overflow, yet they feel the same like a childhood memrory. its letting the choices that bind, break into a thousaund pieces. The chily air carries these emotions to greater, unimaginable heights.

She feels like she is on top of world's mountain. She knows she can never be blown off it. And she tries.

It is a crisp, winter evening. All things fall dead. Her world stops like a running faucet's valve, being shut off, cut off.

It settles in, a dark nimbus cloud, pouring its flurry to cover the scars, the fresh wounds. The silent Earth wants to be lulled into an eternal sleep, into an innocent silence. It wants to forget what childish desires and mistakes it created.

She needs this sleep. she has to wake up suddenly from the past, from the grave. And she tries.

It is a crisp, spring morning. Everything that was is renewed. A reborn spring of feelings sprouts up from her, waiting for these emotions to be discovered.

The flower may have wilted, died, but there is always dropped seeds of faith and hope, surviving and flourishing. Even if there are scars that look impossible to heal, it is by the strong, fiery embrace of time and the gentle candle of preserverance that helps immensely.

She believes she can try again.
She wants to try again.

And she does.

Atmosphere 7 - Heart Strings

2008-11-13T13:41:00.000-08:00

Mood: Lonely
Sound Waves: HIKARI - Eliza

A Pair of Doves

The universal question: What is there for us without love?

Love is something more than just an emotion, a feeling, something so ancient and traditional that its often seen now as materialistic.

Love... is taken for granted countless times in history. Even now, its considered some dirty device that uses people and manipulates their living.

Would jealousy and envy play a part in Love's puzzling game?

In a way, those negative feelings plague what's important.

I believe Love sometimes isn't such a fairy tale as one might try to categorize as.

Love may stand the test of time, but there is enough woe in this world for me to see it as some excuse to be happy.

Is it just me?

Is it just the simple fact that I'm only standing and letting everyone else who I know, pass me by happily?

Are they just lucky?

Am I being too impatient?

Love.... is a cruel test for anyone to take.

It might withstand, but only for a littlewhile.

Maybe for the fact that I haven't even felt the surge of Love's exhilarating race for happiness...

.... that I feel all the less left out from it all.

Atmosphere 6 - A Dream (One)

2008-11-12T08:51:00.000-08:00

Mood: Apprehensive

Sound Waves: Train Ride - Spirited Away Soundtrack

Cameos

You find yourself in a flat surface. No.

Its actually a metal table.

Your arms and legs are nowhere to be found.

All you can really feel is your head, and... whatever else was attached to it.

Your heart, even.

It would be beating so furiously in where your body used to be.

Your eyes dart frantically, searching for an answer as to why you arrived here in the first place

... when you see a teal-colored clad figure, its back turned at you.

You realize you can only murmur your words in some alien slur you're not familiar with.

The figure turns around swiftly, now holding a wooden stick dripping with hot wax.

What's going on?! you scream helplessly in your mind.

The wax nears the bridge between your eyes.

You scrunch your eyes shut to shield yourself from the pain ready to commence towards you.

And then your eyes open without your brain's command.

You see a golden field.

You now feel your body and your arms, legs, intact.

Your hand is clutching onto something.

Something clammy.

Its... a hand. A warm hand that feel so familiar in your grasp.

Your head's motor mechanisms return and you look up.

To see your beloved.

What the hell's going on here, you demand towards your beloved.

Your beloved whispers its fine now. Your safe with me.

Somehow, those words alone calm your soul, and your smile returns to your face.

The same smile that fell in love with this certain person.

Suddenly, both of you are walking through the golden fields of wheat and endless sky.

Your happiness feels just like the sky.

But then, you reach a tunnel. As you peer through the entrance, you feel an extreme cold reach you.

It feels all too familiar.

Your hold with your beloved breaks. You turn and

Your beloved's not there.

You turn back towards the tunnel and your beloved is standing in front of the entrance.

"I'm sorry."

Exactly like the surging heat of hot wax, you don't want to accept this.

Your eyes close in frustration.

Let it all go away.

The lies, the deceit.

The love that you, yourself, pushed away stubbornly.

Let it all go.

You close your eyes without fail.

And I wake up.

Atmosphere 5 - Mo More Lullabies

2008-11-03T12:36:00.000-08:00

Mood: VERY depressed

Sound Waves: On The Arrow by AFI

Going (An Euology)

Two days ago, it was my 18th birthday.

I believe there are all sorts of customs on one's 18th birthday but what I think is the most important event of all--is becoming an adult.

It's not a blessing, or an obligation. Its shedding into an new kind of skin but still being yourself. That is why I believe I should be right here to relief myself about this one person who helped me become who I am today.

From the beginning of my childhood, I was taught through actions and kind words that in order to obtain happiness, you create your own happiness. Not just some artificial joy or materialistic illusion that might comfort for only a little while. It is a happiness simple enough to make a person content for a lifetime.

My beloved grandfather, my Lolo Tettet, has taught me this and so much more.

The one year when I found out that he wasn't my true Lolo, it didn't exactly come as a shock. Already I knew that even if he wasn't my blood, this one man let me in nevertheless. He let me gently hold his hand with my fearful one when I was growing up. Even up to this day, he led me through a shining future, one he'd be happy to see me in, whatever I planned to do.

He promised to protect me and let me bloom into the adult lady he always wrote about in his annual greeting cards to me.

He never forgot about me even after all these years. Sometimes I get pangs of regret, about realizing that I didn't contribute a lot of my kindness to my Lolo in return. I feel that I couldn't forgive myself. Even now. But whatever feelings of regret that I have, I then turn to these thoughts:

As long as I can remember, my Lolo taught me the smallest things and then quickly let them grow. He showed me how to approach life with open arms. To laugh wholeheartedly at my fears. And to always reach my goals, no matter how hard the challenge may be. He never got angry--he was a peaceful boat amongst the rocky waves of Life's ocean.

My Lolo was a man that always had a bright smile lit on his face. Whenever I saw him, whenever he or I visited, there it was, present on his lips, a joyful smile so free, wise, strong-willed.

That smile will always be imprinted in my memory, never to be forgotten.

He wished for me to touch the limitless sky, as if forever was just the beginning of something even better. Eternally, his sweet memory will always linger and flourish in my childish heart.

I may be an adult now--but forever I will always be Lolo Tettet's young, spirited granddaughter.

Thank you, Lolo. Thank you for letting me into your life. My dearly beloved Lolo, I love and till we meet again.

Atmosphere Air 4 - Background Music

2008-10-22T10:32:00.000-07:00

Mood: Alienated
Sound Waves: BT by See-Saw

Island of Desks

The blister bubbling on my right pinky toe is beginning to swell
Alongside this stupid pride of being the well dressed on of the room.
My eyes are glued towards the plastic screen and my ears
Should only be listening intently to the furious discord of black keyboard keys.
But instead, behind my back
Are these voices.
Voices that sound so happy, but poisoning my trust altogether.
So full of themselves.
So wanting to show how much they have that much know-how of doing such
Useless banter.
I hate it.
I want to block it out.
I don't care who won.
I don't care if your test mark is better than everyone in the room.
I don't care if there's something bugging your laptop.
I don't want to know who's finally gotten together with that one person.
What use do I have when I wish for not to listen to it?
Proclaiming such things should be written, not told around
The others among your happy wreckage.
Ignorance is bliss, in my book.
They make me feel like a black sheep, which is laughable considering my attire.
One pleads for someone's lunch, and mutitasks also about their considered race.
One pretends this life is some stupid board game that everyone else should understand.
One is hesitantly just hanging onto the wavelength of the conversation, laughing along.
Selfish, without knowing it.
That's just the way they are.

I was once part of such a socially active island.
I was once ignorant of whoever looked my way.
Wanting to be part of the group of stars
That constantly gossip about themselves, like instant five o'clock newscasts.
Now I feel bending my head and ignoring the
Bothersome voices is all I need to wish for the damned clock to strike
For the next block
So that they can scatter and be together somewhere else.
....which doesn't happen, once the bell tolls dimly over their
Chorus of sarcastic jargon.

Can't they just shut up and do some work for once?

Atmosphere 4 - Dancing Without

2008-10-22T08:43:00.000-07:00

Mood: Heartache

Sound Waves: Half-Pain by Bana

Unattainable

I found his silver linked bracelet

Underneath my bed the other day.

It was still glistening with the faint

Shimmer of that time when he first lent it to me.

I decide to wear it today and try to remember

How it still fitted onto this thick

Wrist of tea-colored skin.

I think it was because I knew

There was something wrong when I

Came back from that sunny Californian place.

Only to come home two days later,

To hear the rainbow bridge I thought would last

Turn into a dark nimbus cloud of something

I denied was desolation.

It's his loss, not mine;

But I clearly feel guilty of myself for believing,

"It wasn't going to happen."

I stand alone, now still dreaming of what was and

Now meant affliction on this fragile

Still-born organ in my chest.

I look at others and tell myself,

"I now don't belong there; my golden road is gone.

Because I'm not happy with myself."

But I'm typically punching mirrors

--I'm not ready to accept the prize of "not negotiable."

The dream that was, now has dried

Up in my inanimate soul but is

Crawling in the daisy scattered dirt to obtain

An artificial resurrection.

I want to kill it.

But at the same time, I dream foolishly for

This silver linked bracelet to magically

Warp me back to the tunnel of lost emotions.

To him again.

I'm not so sure if I should give it back

or keep it tenderly beside this filthy, egoistic heart.

Atmosphere 3 - summa cum laude

2008-10-21T18:40:00.000-07:00

Mood: Defective
Sound Waves: Creep by Radiohead

The lost salt gift of blood
-alistar macleod

Come all ye fair and tender ladies
Take warning how you court your men
They're like the stars on a summer's morning
First they'll appear and then they're gone

I wish I were a tiny sparrow
And I had wings and I could fly
I'd fly away to my own true lover
And all he'd ask I would deny

Alas I'm not a tiny sparrow
I have not wings nor can I fly
And on this earth in grief and sorrow
I am bound until I die

All alone as I strayed by the banks of the river
Watching the moonbeams at evening of day
All alone as I wandered I spied a young stranger
Weeping and wailing with many a sigh

Weeping for one who is now lying lonely
Weeping for one who no mortal can save
As the foaming dark waters flow silently past him
Onward they flow over a young girl's grave

Oh my darling come tarry here with me
Don't leave me alone distracted in pain
For as death is the dagger that piled us asunder
Wide is this gulf, love, between you and I.

Atmosphere 2 - Oratorio

2008-10-20T10:32:00.000-07:00

Mood: Quiet, thinking

Sound Waves: Uninstall, Chiaki Ishikawa

Solid Note

There are voices everywhere.

Laughing, mocking, trying to make themselves superior.

They sound so happy.

They seem like they have something to look forward to, when they talk.

Different tones

Different stories

And I could only hear what is there:

Belonging.

What is it that they have that I can't see when I talk?

Holding more lift in their voices

When mine floats in an empty course across two meters of ground.

I can't say whether or not they can see the me

They really want to talk to.

But this doubt is more disturbing me than

Actually coming to say what I can say.

My ears are the ones who gain much more than what this

Dried up leaf-like voice can ever retrieve from simple conversation.

I could only talk to myself.

I can only say what I want to myself.

And I can only doubt whether or not

I can get out of this self-made glass box,

In order to see the socially made light of being 'there'.

Atmosphere One - Ice Age

2008-10-17T11:20:00.000-07:00

Mood: Despairing

Sound Waves: Idioteque, Radiohead

System Error

For the time being, I'm stuck having to plug my conscious away from the

wary eyes and sounds of content people.

Time goes so slowly.

But it never changes.

I know I'm missing whatever is out there, beyond the sea of sound waves and

Dysfunctional family trills of chaos and disorder.

"You're useless!

You're hopeless!"

I cannot take action with those kind of motivations.

For a while, it was nice, not to be warmed from the constant worries

And pressured faiths bestowed upon me.

I feel like a king with too much time in his hands

But with just enough of that time not to count his blessings.

"You're crazy!

You're insane!"

The discord of silent remarks make its way, making no mistake

Of making myself a fool of who I really am.

This is me.

No it isn't.

Why ask myself the same rhetorical simplicities, when I don't know how to put it

In proper, acceptable honorifics?

"When are you ever going to try?

When DID you see me try?"

For a while now, even I haven't figured that piece of architecture yet.

Can't I try applying such cosmetics

and try to go around without anyone else knowing

what kind of mask I wear underneath the emotion?

"We only want what's best.

But you must try for once."

I keep the doubt in like a bottle, not ready to set sail

In a sea of blind justice.

I haven't yet known how to completely open

These dusty-filled eyes

To who I really am.