Rolling Out The Mat : Inference

And so what is the moral of the day?

As I see it...

Firstly, we were complained since the early morning. So it was not a pretty good sign. But a pretty good reminder to us all.

If I should compare, of course nothing measure up what I went through in Kuhara. Everything was fast and effectual. Malleable.

In contrast, what happened since Day 1 was chaotic. Principle got agitated in the early morning. People shouting here and there. Moving classes back and forth. I couldn't relate we actually were in an orientation!

Surprise. Surprise.

I think the confined spaces spoiled the mood. Everyone's mood.

My heart goes out to the brainchild of the school.

Secondly, I felt somebody right at this moment, should pull the trigger in my head. I strongly felt for Dev. I could have stood up for her all these times.

Did I ever? I should had just left and f*cked myself. Real nice and dead.

I would had damn shout at everyone alive there. Faced squarely and stood tall.

Backed off! F*cked them all!

And the Queens.

Like a bunch of B*tches thought they knew well and all.

I appeared silent and expressionless. My heart was full of rage and was steaming. I felt like I'd love to be indulged in giving every few punches now and then. I should had enjoyed it. For them kept coming for her of their some stupid, childish questions and ludicrous helps which easily solved. Nothing brain surgeries, ain't it?

Stupid folks!

If only I could. If only I was given enough magical gallantry.

Nobody knew. They were just too stupid. Too self-absorbed.

I'm dead meat. I should had chopped to pieces and fed to dogs instead of sitting here. Whining like a baby.

And she should stop. Given room to breath. Rest. In peace.

Sleep in cosy and sweet dream.

Rolling Out The Mat - Day 2

Damn. Totally worn-out for the day.

Couldn't believe I was doing this. Leading five muted goodies cut through the jungle for like...

Nothing.

For sure. They were MERELY better than yesterday. At least muted goodies showed some spirits. But no cooperation among the team. Ha!

In the back of my mind, I wished they were all had lost the fight. I wished they should had just drawn up the white flag higher and earlier. Wasted nobody else's time. My time. And saved some of the UV rays.

I hate UV rays.

Rumor had it that we should had won the battle. Only caused of the two "outsiders" (I would like to called them) turned their backs on us. There was only something from them served as cop-outs which they were trying to avoid the last fight.

I was all upset inside of me. No one member cared at all. I felt I was the one to be "orientated".

I did all the thinking. Gave all the suggestions. Calling them around back and forth. Over and over. Whenever given tasks, all their eyes were on me. Pleading eyes asking for being spooned.

Nothing worked at the end. I gave up. Turned them in to the Queen of the Queens.

I was laughing inside. I kept wondering why the five muted goodies didn't get what they deserve.

Fifth?

Instead of last. Nobody knew. Ain't it?

The darkest secret they kept together through out the events.

The fighting soldiers. Fighters. Generals. Commander In Chief. Sergents. All should had consulted me.

Such a bunch of hypocrites. Puppets.

All of them.

Rolling Out The Mat - Day 1

And so it went. Was this a coincident?

I got seven muted goodies today.

Arrgghhh...!What they have been thinking for the whole day? Isn't they supposed to be having fun? Thinking about winning? Seven. Low-charged fighters were like fighting for nothing. Fueled only emptiness and boredom after each events.

I admit. Only a mere part of me hoping them to win. Tried my best so far. Sparked energy. Gave hope. Fueled zest. Disappointingly, bummed me out.

Nevertheless.

Muted goodies didn't seem of falling apart. Neither turning against each other nor being uncooperative. Their actions more like being made to do something. So there they were. Reluctantly move their asses. Or being shy away.

Ok.

And so I got my unlucky 13th locker. Seven muted goodies. I only hope they show some effort. Show some "extreme".

EXTREME!

Just don't fall. Be the last.

C'mon guys! WIN! WIN! WIN! GO! GO! GO!

UP! UP! UP!

Life As Full Circle

NO! WARM-BLOODED HUMANITY WON'T FACE IT.

It's been odd. I have a scary thought lately.

Dad looks old.

My gut of looking on his face becomes diminishing each day. It would remind me how old he looks. Especially his aging eyes. The dramatic, sad and crying scenes in the series which I caught over the years would pop up in my mind.

I could not bring myself to face the idea. I started to imagine the worst. I feel like I am preparing myself for the inevitable. Something messy. Something will only bring emotional-tortured.

An outburst.

The black figure with hood who responsible for the ride. The dead ride. The Death.

He hits 60. Or is it 61? Is no way of looking that old. Dad looks younger than that to most people.

Not his well-being though.

Externally, he looks taller, lean but tougher. A strong man. Internally, he is accumulating toxic. Is life-threatening.

I will only keep asking myself what to do. What to do. What to do. Gone. Gone now.

I am preparing myself. Or. I am not preparing myself. Somehow.

God bless his soul. Please.

Human Frustration

If we're given chance, of course we could be better. Do things better.

We might as well impress people. Somehow.

What happened, simply out of the blue. Like a thunderstorm strike in a hot sunny day.

People could act without second thought. Without proper planning and calling in advance. They can do whatever please them. At will. Because they have the power. They are above us all.

Sadly. They are not well-informed. Not enough. As we approach things our ways, they never try to learn, to understand us. They don't give a damn about the ways we do things that best suit us.

What they are trying to do, simply to veil us. They are lurking in the dark, picking up on our flaws. When they have the chance, there they are. Showing up like a herd of wolf in sheep's clothing.

Acting up real nice and smooth.

Because of my ignorance at that particular day, particular moment, I slipped out another $30. I admitted. I owned up. I confessed. I took a bow. In front of audience. Sincerely in guilt.

Nonetheless.

Behind those masks, I see what they are up to. Nothing provoke me. Not with their clown make-ups or masks.

I'm chill. With a smile so wide.

As far as my lips could stretch.

Numbers of Facts

I just found out another one of my flexibility. Apart from others which include:

- 180 degree body-bend to floor, palms flat.
- 180 degree body-arch on the floor.
- move my hips and ass.

Literally. Ass.

Amazingly, I was able to move my belly/stomach internally. Feeling the air inside of my stomach, pushing it up and down. Like waves!

It was a bit strenuous. Tiresome though.

Anyway, what a nice work-out! Worth a mark for this.

Updates

Nothing much. Really.

Except for the baggy pants. Real loose and low.

It was cause of the weight loss affair. Time for a celebration, is not it? Yeah, I'm thrill of light of the few-pounds. Big time.

Partaaay!!

One worn-out brassiere. Gosh. Keep it going for...like 3 years now?...or more? Another next 3 years? God and Heaven forbid.

Plus. Don't forget the pun-tee. Rubber losing. Oh no.

I wish somehow my lazy bone get picked out. At this point, somehow, someone should have dragged me to the mall, browse through and try out my new favorite undergarments in the fitting room. How could this is not happening?

What is happening right now: brassiere get hang outside, soaking up the sun at every two days..

What a vile scene. Sinful. Violating Slave Law.

Put on everything in one day. Today.

How could I had let it slipped?

Dan?

My bumbershoot also got used for today. Drizzly day.

Stained sneakers.

Old-timer

Discussion in class made my trip down memory lane.

In my 21 years of age, I miss my childhood with my brother and sister. All the childhood time we spent, games we played. All the sweet memories only leave vague images.

As sweet as candy.

I miss hide-and-seek, stuffed animals being my students, our makeshift home of table, climbing through or up and down shelves as our military game, tag, London Bridg...

Makeshift lion from boxes and smelly blanket with my brother...

And it wasn't even Spring Fest.

They are classic.

Tehno-age supplanting. No more hide-and-seek, tag in field is non-existent. Playground flattened.

Cyber cafe is booming. Electronic games are everywhere. Kids could be anyone whenever - farmers, warriors, dancers, landlords, millionaires, sniper, government agents, wives, husbands, robbers, Mafia, kille...

As young as 9 checking out Facebook.

Even dolls and Barbies have ipod, cellphones, Apples of their own. Not to mention provocative dressing.

For all the best, good, better, bad or worst.

Compare to my own childhood memories, I am lucky.

Kids in this time and age won't leave much memories. They can't identify themselves anymore. Not sure how to being a child.

Being far less adorable. Laughter hears no more.

I truly lucky and grateful. I wasn't born yesterday. Not even today.

I was cute. I had a childhood.

It is still there.

Self Check-Out

You Are 20% Extrovert, 80% Introvert







You are quite reserved
You aren't afraid of social situations...
But you very much prefer to go it alone
You're your own best friend!

For a quick self checkout. Just to be sure.

Now if you will excuse me, I'll get my humming to finish off.

Website by:
Are You An Extrovert or An Introvert?

One of A Kind

I wish they are like you. I would follow them.

 I wish people don't dwell on their feelings too much. Keep ranting on and on. Run off at the mouth. Because they could be so boring. Getting on my nerves.

I like simplicity. But no one as simple as you. You always keep things so simple and right. Short and concise. You don't like to waste people's time, that's how I admire you.

You are successful.

You know how to put everything into words. How beautiful they are. You could make me laugh. I enjoy just to listening to you.

I want to be just like you. To reach where you are right now. I'm not there yet, but an apprentice.

I am your follower. You are my leader.

Sometimes I wish to be just like that.

You amaze me. I'm learning from you.

Trapped

When everyone is talking about green energy and technology, I want to talk about soul-searching.

To talk about humans flaws of all the catastrophe, is too mundane. Bo-ring.

This bunch. This lot, with whom I share my room with, desperately NEED some emergency soul-searching classes, soul-searching courses, soul-searching shows, soul-searching campi...

This lot has one one-thing in common. They all act as one, react as one, sit and stand as one, speak and listen as one.

I am the odd one out.

I don't mind I don't fit in. In fact, there is absolutely 99% that I am perfect. The one percent left is where at any given time, I will make mistake. Cliche to say, no one is perfect.

True.

I wonder if they ever have self-realization. Whatever wrongdoings, they keep them going. They act it out. They talk it out loud. They boast. They flaunt whatever deeds they perform.

Like they are walking in rain with guns in their hands.

Their heads are rock solid, as opposed to sponge. They can't never change, never soak up anything.

How could they never learned from mistakes? Mistakes scare them away.

Seems life never teaches anything.

I am for one, and the only one, out of place. I never left. I have been staying all along. Because my option is limited. My time is running out. I have no where else to go. Because I am a rock myself.

They, are definitely here to stay. A place where they supposed to grow together. The most fitting room.

To do some soul-searching as one.

Devils Don't Touch My-Stuff

I feel blessed. I feel grateful each day. For what I am given. From abstracts to materials.

I love my stuff. I mean it. I mean everything I said or say. From my $0.80 ballpoint, $2.80 highlighter, toilet paper-roll, pencil, $10.00 watch, books, bobby pin, bed-sheet, $9.90 flip-fl...

Because they are all mine. Regardless as cheap as peanut, or as huge as pearl.

Because they are all mine.

I am their protector. I have known them well enough. Whatever I lend out, they might come back to me in different forms. Sometimes to a point where it could upset me and makes me boiling inside.

Every my-stuff that I lend out, I have a tendency to turn my head around to observe where they are being brought along with the stranger's hand. I could be watching at my-stuff being used. Keeping my straight face, squinting my eyes. Feeling what my-stuff is feeling.

They are being TOR-TURED!!!

They always fall to the wrong hands. Wrong users. I could hear they are crying out for me. I tell them to be patient. Just a little while longer. That he will be back with me again. Together, we will live happily ever after.

My-stuff know well I only give empty promises. How could I let them down each day?

One is being abducted. Right at this point, I am still asking around.

Where is he?

I wish he is in good hands. If he ever comes back to me, I swear to God, I'd shout f*ck off everybody! At their pathetic faces.

Because you give me strength.

I could feel my heart is full. At any moment, my eyes would welled, burst into tears before I know it.

Secret Arch Nemesis

Damn he was not there. I wished he was to witness it all. He was mentioned during the line-up. The ceremony.

He was the Master of Destruction. The man behind the curtain.

He was "prosecuted" finally. I was thrilled. (Though not officially) I would had LMAO.

It would be interesting to see his face. His immature reactions. I would be so enjoy watching the show. Eat it all up.

How could he had got away? With everything. A few times. Whenever we were all given wise word, he just was not there to hear it all. How could he had been so thought-out?

Now it was a shame he got away again. When will he wake up now? Who would give him a call?

Ohhh...too bad it was short-filmed. I wished there was a next episode for the same show.

I. Would not want. To be the one. To change that. Let he be.

HA!HA!HA!

The Day I was Selected

Another bash for the institution.

An annual welcoming for the newcomers.

This. It is meant for the whole institution, the Kings and the Queens, and its people.

Before They came in for a brief, I had insisted on to stay away from it. Away from everyone. Make a break for it through the back windows if I had to. I would had to run away somehow. Could not endure another event, another task. Could not accept what would befall me. Again.

I heard rumors. Or was it? The Queen of the Queens had warned Her citizens. Whoever try to break free, he or she would suffer in Her dungeon. She would be the one with Her own hands cast Her evil spells on us, whoever tried to break free.

I still insisted on. Whatever.

One of the Queens read the scroll out loud. Whoever names were mentioned, would be bounded to hold accountable for his own duty and position for the bash.

I was picked. For a very important position - Lord High Treasurer. The Queen went on to remind us that whoever did his part will be rewarded; whoever did not, would be doomed.

This line I heard, had changed my mind. I was willing to stay for the institution.

To stay for my future sake, I will do my part, a better job. For the rewards I know I will receive.

Alright. I copied that. Get back to plough.

Alice in Wonderland

I was in my room.

After I had changed my outfit, I lifted up my bag and heavy books, reaching for the door.

Stepping outside, it was a Wonderland. Small city, with moderate crowd. The Wonderland was a nice hill in full activities on both sides of the road which stretched up along the hill. A nice weather. Warm.

(I'm telling you, I was the Alice in Wonderland.)

Dan suddenly appeared from no where. His tall figure made me felt so small. His height enough for me to hide from the warm sun.

(Suddenly, I feel we did not have this intimate connection, not in real when I think back when we were in Wonderland.)

Interestingly, we both knew "speak" would not be necessarily. We knew better how to connect through telepathy.

(Aren't we doing this for so long now?)

Dan was meant for sending me off to school. When we reached the bus station, we stood together for a while, without any physical contact.

We did not say a word, yet somehow we knew this was our norm. Silence was our norm. Nothing to be embarrassed about.

Dan disappeared.

I tried to search that familiar face around me. Then I saw him.

At that moment, it totally blew my mind of how handsome he looked. It was crystal clear to me.

He seems busy clearing up his work (not with his laptop, I wonder why?) with a few papers on the table. HIS table was up the hill. Literally.

(I told you, I was in Wonderland.)

Then, the citizen of the Wonderland heard the announcement. The "fetch" game was on. Lots of people thronging in the game arena.

I saw mom! She was playing for another team! Excitedly.

I walked up to the hill to meet Dan. But he was already left for the game. I saw his red tote bag rested on the chair. I thought it was a really nice tote I wanted to have.

I went behind the railing. Dan was in the game below the hill. His hair had changed.
It was longer now, golden brown. With a clip on the side of his hair. I thought he looked great. Suddenly so young.

He played "crazily", running with hands up in the air...

I was half conscious with my eyes closed after the Wonderland dream. I kept the dream playing over and over in my head, took in all the details as many as I could. Because I knew, if I opened my eyes, at that moment after the dream was over, this pearl moment would slipped as fast and as far away as it would from my memory.

Now, it surprises me. How could I remember all of these details, but somehow I forgot what he was wearing? Was it greyish blue? Bluish grey? What was I wearing?

We were so closed in Wonderland. Especially at the bus station.

Mr. Parkinson

Parkinson's had struck lately. Not as serious as the oldies. Normal, like it happens to most people once in a while.

It was quite disturbing sometimes. Seems to have made me felt nervous, like my heart pumping faster than the speed of light. Though I did not have much worries during that particular moment, which I thought might had caused the abnormal beating.

Looking at my hands trembling uncontrollably, seems like the fingers came to life before my eyes. Ready to rip at my face.

Hated my muscle jumping inside up and down. Not the usual rhythm. Something amiss with my nerve system. Felt most when I did not move them much. I think I had been using too much strength lately without realizing it, which I guessed had caused this uncomfortable feeling.

Blame the books I had been carrying around since the schedule had altered.

I needed to dig into it to remedy this.

A Genuine Hypocrite

This is what I have always wanted. Still, it seems surreal. Worst, fake to me.

I am hypocrite. A sad face behind a clown face.

I had watched people succeed from young age. The success stories came in different forms. One with a big mouth, outspoken; another in mute mode, struggle in silent; some, however, in between. A fine line. They were the one who broke the mold, broke the boundaries, who surfaced above water. Knew well, they would survive.

Me. I was no where to be found. Maybe once had sank deeply.

Worst, invisible.

I am hypocrite.

Never crossed my mind to have come to this day. A day when I got a morsel taste of Victory. They salute me. From their looks upon me, I feel respected, stimulated to become better each day. They WANT to be like me. They WANT to take away my Victory, and make a break for it. In their minds, they have known better of their incapability.

One part of me, I want my Victory to be recognized eventually, only by me. Because no one single soul, ever, no one human form, have known me better than I do. Another half of me, I don't want to let down everyone, anyone, who look upon me. They, who have that familiar look. The look I once thirst for.

Because no one have known me better. I have made myself a hypocrite.

Ms. Antsy Vs Robotic

Lately, I can feel how anxious I have become. All these time, I thought I have prepared enough. But then, never is enough, nothing seems to make me feel better than yesterday.

I feel worse each day. Totally wired.

First time, feeling robotic, going one task after another.

He said I looked tired; she said I was acting robotic.

What I have become these days?

Few more months to go. What I am worried at the end of each day, is the fearful feeling of sleepless night, eventhough my body screams sleepy. My mind would not let me rest. Electrical neurons sparkling here and there in my grey matter. Thoughts running wild and free. A nocturnal visit.

My patient is borderless. My heart only peaceful at one moment. I am robot.

I wish to be able to sleep with my eyes half-open. That is most suit me.

Honorable Festivity

This outing seems had took its toll on me. I felt totally bored when I got to the woods. To celebrate the teachers, I felt lifeless, uneventful.

They asked to be celebrated.

I realized what had caused the whole mess, and I knew we all messed up. We were pushed to celebrate the Kings and the Queens of the castle. We were the slaves, who were forced to pay from what we had gained, just for the whole event, to carry out such a celebration, the so-called honorable festivity.

Nobody deserved anything from the start. The Kings and Queens, never got to deserve such a meaningful event. THEY are called Kings and the Queens, just because THEY have the power over us, we are the slaves of the institution, always with heavy locks around our feet, dragging along, to go wherever THEY point us to go, order us.

This, is what we have always been. We can't make complains, for any of THEIR wrongdoings or THEIR qualities of the institution. Any protests mean "head-less" as the result. The institution is corrupted. We pay for THEIR wrongdoings. After all, we are THEIR slaves, we do pay tributes.

We were forced to carry out the celebration. THEY asked for it. We did not deserve it. THEY never wanted to hear our concerns, THEY just wanted us to celebrate THEM. No excuses. That was it.

We carried out everything, running around like a headless chicken. Not in an honorable manner, and so we messed up the whole festivity. In the process of the celebration in the woods, we argued among us, the slaves. Blaming each other, having cold-war. Turning our backs against each other, no cooperation to win over the King and the Queens' hearts.

We, the slaves, are now trapped in a condition with our most fearful thoughts and feelings, of what is awaiting us. Confined in a darker dungeon, with our hearts sank deeply, waiting to be prosecuted.

On the first day, before sunset.