You don't like to dance?

noreply@blogger.com (Smocks) — Wed, 27 Jun 2007 14:17:00 +0000

Mad World

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very
Mad World

Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday
And I feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen, sit and listen
Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, no one knew me
Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson
Look right through me, look right through me
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very
Mad World

Enlarging your world
Mad World.

- Roland Orzabal

noreply@blogger.com (Smocks) — Sat, 23 Jun 2007 08:12:00 +0000

You start in a room. There seems to be almost no light from where you stand. It’s a little dim, and you find yourself squinting to adjust to the darkness. Your hands extend in front of your body, slowly groping to make your way around the room.

Then you trip.

And you fall.

Then you get up.

The room is now pitch black. Your eyes are open, yet it feels like you’ve got them tightly closed. Squinting is no longer an option. So you close your eyes. It’s funny how your body is so acustomed to automated responses. You laugh and you listen as your laughter bounces off the walls in an almost mocking manner. You start fumbling around yourself for a source of light; perhaps a box of matches, a lighter. Fuck, how you wish you had a cigarette right now. Not so much for the light, but for the company.

It seemed so long ago that cigarettes under street lamps were enough to pacify the loneliness. The smoke that dances around your fingers enthralled you for infinity. It didn’t matter if there wasn’t a place to sit, you’d sit by the road. It didn’t matter if people stared as they usually did, you’d smile back.

You stand still and tilt your head upwards. You have no idea where the darkness ends. Almost like an upside down abyss.

Where does it end?

noreply@blogger.com (Smocks) — Mon, 11 Jun 2007 15:13:00 +0000

Yet.

I stand at the edge of a balcony, that overlooks the city. The building has to be at least 32-storeys high. I'm not sure, I always fail to pay attention to the little details that are seemingly important.

Reminds me of the time I didn't know you threw up.

I look down. I see the cars speeding on the highway. It's a Saturday night, it's no surprise that everyone's out - racing to get to the best spots in town. I'd join them, but it wasn't the right time.

I feel the wind blowing through my hair. It tickles and I shiver from the tingle it sends down my spine.

I look up and beyond the cars and see the city at its prettiest. The lights that illuminate the hardness of its body gives it a new life. At this time of day, it towers beautifully - watching over the happy, the sad, the lonely.

I still feel the wind in my hair, and I still shiver from the tingles. I think of the life that I have lived and questioned if it was good, if it was worth it, if it was enough.

As hard as I try, I am too tired to answer my questions. To answer my thoughts. I try to recall the happy moments that kept me overflowing with laughter, and the sorrow that kept me overflowing with tears.

But all I could think of is

to

jump

.

noreply@blogger.com (Smocks) — Tue, 05 Jun 2007 13:58:00 +0000

Sometimes we just need to look up to the skies to remind us that there is something out there for us.

That there is something worth waiting for.

That in turn, is waiting for us too.

It won't be just another fruitless journey.

P/S: I'm right behind you.

noreply@blogger.com (Smocks) — Thu, 05 Apr 2007 14:27:00 +0000

Out of nowhere I was there
But you took your time
No one thought that I could get you
Then they changed their minds

You know that I have a perfect plan
Drown in each other like only lovers can
Something is bound to come your way
And I'll watch you run astray

Walk amongst the others
Clearly state your aim
Slide beneath the covers
And I will say your name

In the city, crowds run wild
Like ants on a farm
Villains may commit their crimes
But I won't do you harm

You know that I have a perfect plan
Drown in each other like only lovers can
Something is bound to come your way
And I'll watch you run astray

Like only lovers can.

noreply@blogger.com (Smocks) — Thu, 08 Feb 2007 01:36:00 +0000

I lie here looking at you thinking about the people we could have become, and how much more we might have been able to grow together. If we had been a little more patient with each other, and with others, where would we be now?

Never a day goes by that I do not regret the day it did not rain, because we were always the most beautiful then. We shared the same affinity for the darker side of the world, when the night sky was out and everyone else was asleep. I remember how we would walk away into the deep silence, not needing to speak because words were not our language.

We never saw the sunlight, or the blue skies. We never felt the need to step out after the rain, because that was us and I knew even then that there would be no other like you. Our happiest times were the cold, wet, winter nights that would make us get out of bed to stand in the rain just to feel it fall on our faces. I would feel most at peace at those moments because I knew you were beside me and I would listen to you through each drop that holds your whispers. We were living in a dream within my nightmare.

I didn't know it would be the last time I would stand in the soggy dusk with you or touch the dirt in our hands together. On that stark white morning when you stepped out in the open was the day you left me to go your separate way. You couldn't love the night like how I loved you anymore. You never wanted to run your fingers through the storm again. You left me with your haunting gaze as you swallowed everything I ever owned and had given you.

I don't want to pick up, or be the sun rays that would eventually shine through the clouds of rain. In our world, you and I both know there is no other way to go about it. Because you are my anchor as I am yours, and I will go down when you do.

I watch you lie peacefully in that pure white bed and watch my life stain across your body. I never want you to be free, and I never want to be free from you. You are mine as the hours of darkness will be ours forever.

So, I lie here looking at you thinking about the people we could have become, and how much more we might have been able to grow together. If we had been a little more patient with each other, and with others, where would we be now?

noreply@blogger.com (Smocks) — Thu, 11 Jan 2007 03:58:00 +0000

Is it me or you? Either or, we seem to share more than a bitter outlook to things. We’re only happy when it’s bright out, or when we’ve got our feet soaked in the sea.

We’re dreamers, aren’t we? We find peace only when we stare out into the horizon, feeling smaller than usual in this big place. The breeze from car rides does a better job at soothing our soul than watery chicken soup. You and me, we opt for the other things in life to keep a smile plastered.

Daily routine is mundane and tiring. We feel weary of the same old habits. Broken resolutions, screaming matches, plastered hearts. So habitual, it’s become conversation openers to ask each other, is it worth it? Hiding behind optimistic masks, we reply with knowing smiles, of course, at least soon.

Cold nights, aching hearts, we feel most alone when we’re not. It’s funny when you think about it. We laugh in the melancholic silence of the smoky room.

Is it just us? You and me? Me and you?

Hazy days, grey shades, it doesn’t matter. Take comfort in knowing that we can’t be that lonely in this world.

After all, we’ve got each other.

noreply@blogger.com (Smocks) — Thu, 21 Dec 2006 02:31:00 +0000

Paths crossed
Moonlight gaze
Cigarette breaks

Weary laughs
Secret calls
Silent talks

Disbelief
False front
Crashing faith

Patchwork history
Doubtful misery
Fleeting smiles

Painful gaze
Sightless front
Fading soul

noreply@blogger.com (Smocks) — Fri, 24 Nov 2006 07:13:00 +0000

He’s in love with the melody
He feels the beats alive under your skin
He is connected

His eyes light up at crescendo
His lips curve to smile
His muscles tighten to keep it in

She’s in love with the melody
She feels alive with the beats
She is connected

Her eyes twinkle as it decrescendos
Her pain becomes more bearable
Her muscles tighten to simply feel

noreply@blogger.com (Smocks) — Fri, 24 Nov 2006 07:05:00 +0000

Grey Room

Well I've been here before
Sat on the floor in a grey grey room
Where I stay in all day
I don't eat, but I play with this grey grey food

Desole, if someone is prayin' then I might break out,
Desole, even if I scream I can't scream that loud

I'm all alone again
Crawling back home again
Stuck by the phone again

Well I've been here before
Sat on a floor in a grey grey mood
Where I stay up all night
And all that I write is a grey grey tune

So pray for me child, just for a while
That I might break out yeah
Pray for me child
Even a smile would do for now

'Cause I'm all alone again
Crawling back home again
Stuck by the phone again

Have I still got you to be my open door
Have I still got you to be my sandy shore
Have I still got you to cross my bridge in this storm
Have I still got you to keep me warm

If I squeeze my grape and I drink my wine
Coz if I squeeze my grape and I drink my wine
Oh coz nothing is lost, it's just frozen in frost,
And it's opening time, there's no-one in line

But I've still got me to be your open door,
I've still got me to be your sandy shore
I've still got me to cross your bridge in this storm
And I've still got me to keep you warm

noreply@blogger.com (Smocks) — Thu, 23 Nov 2006 07:19:00 +0000

Trapped, confined, inner spaces
Suffocated, asphyxiated, inebriated

Intense, extreme, concentrated
Velocity, momentum, force

Spacing, floating, sliding
Highs, cries, smiles

noreply@blogger.com (Smocks) — Mon, 13 Nov 2006 04:04:00 +0000

Drowning in a sea of thoughts
the clear blue skies do nothing
to appease the troubled mind

Failure of cause and consequence
The heart is battered
and patched over and over
Happy plasters be gone

Patchwork appreciation misunderstood
De javu

Thorns are out
Defence mechanism
Survival instincts
Disillusioned lover

The barbs dig deeper
Sinister

Exposed to embrace but denied
Grit my teeth, get on with it

Pain is pleasure
pleasure is pain

If you think that you are strong enough.

noreply@blogger.com (Smocks) — Wed, 21 Jun 2006 03:19:00 +0000

She doesn’t think she is. And she never has been, despite the many accusations of being a cookie. She was already getting used to adverse reactions from others when they realize that she is capable of emotions and tears.

Her emotions encapsulates her being, and she wonders why it is that way and no other.

Because in her heart, there is no other way. When she opens up her world hesitantly letting others in, why can’t they understand that in her world that’s the way things are. Changing perspectives and colours indicates intervention. Who are we to intervene when we step into her world of pink and grey?

Why can’t others see and try to understand that the doors of her mind are bolted, and there will never be any other way in. It’s simply the matter of understanding her heart to understand her mind. She didn’t ask to be this way. It wasn’t a choice. She was simply manufactured that way.

Because to her maker, she was flawed if she was free.

What happened to all the cowboys?

noreply@blogger.com (Smocks) — Fri, 16 Jun 2006 00:16:00 +0000

Eeyer, so long never post anything wan. Horrid I say, absolutely horrid. But I suppose that's what happens when you've won the Lotto and don't really need to do anything, so all you do is just laze around and have extended beauty naps that you don't really need.

So. What's been happening guys? NO ONE POSTED ANY WORTHLESS COMMENTS ON MY BLOG? How there thee? If ye asketh me on a Monday, I would say, "What blog?"

What month is it now.. urm.. June. Meaning, it's World Cup season. The much anticipated international game or sport whatever across the globe that gets the world talking and is the international language and makes the world go round. Honestly, I couldn't care less. Not action-packed at all. It's only fun to watch when people get hurt - like when Fong Sai Yuk kicked the other asian guy’s ass.

Damn black and white balls are every where now. On the road, in the sky, on my plate, in my bed, on the table, in my tea. SWEET JESUS is probably out there somewhere threatening hell to Siddartha if he gets in his way of scoring too.

And the damn sites. Every single page I log on to, there’s a damn football staring straight back at me. Football here football there – damn irritating lor. And the TV is always green these days with random specs of colours darting around aimlessly. Urgh.

And what’s up with these damn corporate hoes taking advantage of this stupid season? Everyone’s riding on some kind of beat-up wagon. There’s THIS and THIS and THAT. Wah lau.

Eeyer. Shameless.

One more for the crabs

noreply@blogger.com (Smocks) — Tue, 21 Mar 2006 04:24:00 +0000

I’ll take a handful of those surprises
That bag of sunshine and prizes
I’ll make you chuck them aside
And kick them around with pride

Throw at me your whims and fancies
And I’ll make you a chain of daisies
At the end I’ll push them away
Just like how they’ve all gone astray

I’ll slit your hands with care and love
And you’ll protect me with your rubber glove
We’ll sit and watch the sun go down
And how we turn those smiles from frowns

We'll lead them down to the beach
I’ll stand in a distance within your reach
Hours pass with more waves to crumble
I’ll sit and listen to your quiet mumbles

We'll walk away with finished business
Tired and drained from the net and fishes
Look beyond the sea and sigh
Slit our wrists together and die

Flying high with the purple matador of Zambooka land

noreply@blogger.com (Smocks) — Sun, 12 Mar 2006 06:41:00 +0000

So starting work was refreshing. The two month long break was a much needed one, because hey. Anyone who knows me, knows how hard I work my ass off. I mean, it’s a fucking feat to get up religiously at 7, take 2 trains to get to work by 8.45am, boot up my PC, moan about the long week ahead while mentally preparing myself for the strenuous job briefs piling in, and then debate with myself what I should be having for breakfast. Then comes 9.15am, when everyone else comes strolling in and I’m yelling at everyone to hurry up cos the princess is already bloody hungry.

Then I start work at 11 and work really hard til 12 because it’s lunch time and everyone’s got to eat. And everyone knows a hungry bitch is an angry one. So we all go eat. And then comes 3pm when lunch break is finally over. Time to make that nice cuppa caffiene. Now, a good cuppa takes a good hour. There's nothing worse than not putting effort into something you're passionate about! 4pm brings about a great need to inhale some toxin into them lungs. Stupid foo, you can't detox without the toxins mah. After all that jingle-jangle, it's time to get down to business and I'm already thinking about dinner.

But that's all boring.

Now that I'm in this high-flying corporate world, I really know what work is. No one told me that using your brains could be this tiring. Damn the man to this shit. I'm a ditz. Everyone who knows me will attest to that. I don't make decisions that will affect the cosmic balance of the universe. I don't pick up the phone to check on things. People pick up their phone to check on me!

"Are you slitting those wrists again?"

"Popping one of those nice blue pills again, eh?"

But that's all boring too.

So what's not boring to you lah? I'll tell you what. What's not boring is me spending all the money I won in the Lotto last month. A hefty sum, if you ask me! I get to swagger into fancy shops and use the prestige toilet without moaning about forking out RM2.00 each time I want to pop my zit.

As a wise person once said, and I quote" How amazement!"

Dares of Yore

noreply@blogger.com (Smocks) — Fri, 10 Mar 2006 01:19:00 +0000

There’s nothing quite like it.

She sat on the ledge of her apartment building, staring out into the dark blanket. The street was empty but she could hear the sounds of life in a distance. Or was it? Maybe life was simply in front of her, except she’s successfully managed to block it out. Deleted, erased, emptied.

The blankness – there’s nothing quite like it.

What she could feel was what she failed to see. The figure in her room. The darkness she was forced to return to. After all these years, she’s finally come to accept being embraced by the black cloak that broods in every corner of the room she was in. The silence it brings. The cold, hard solitude that others resented and tried to avoid was what she learned to held on to.

The stillness - there wasn’t anything quite like it.

It didn’t have a shape, or a name, or any intent. She tried sitting quietly once, with the lights off and a pencil in her hand. She tried to draw what she thought she saw. But she couldn’t, because really, there wasn’t anything there at all. So what was it? What was it that welcomed her home every night?

The heavy breath that lingered - there's nothing quite like it.

Later

noreply@blogger.com (Smocks) — Wed, 15 Feb 2006 07:40:00 +0000

It’s been a while since he had a moment to himself. Create a setting. A soothing one. And so he did. With a lazy swagger, he gently flicked on the three lamps in each corner of the living room.

It seemed like a beautiful day. The sun was shining, and the skies were clear blue – somewhat similar to the shade he had painted on the blank canvas the night before. It wasn’t too hot and humid either. A gentle breeze occasionally floated through the opened glass doors. I really should water my plants. They can’t be enjoying this wonderful day without a sprinkle of water. With that, he quickly strutted into the bathroom to fill up a pot of water.

Sitting by the balcony was one of his favourite past times. Here, he could blank away the life he had and dream about a world with no worries. Watching the day go by is pretty fun and calming in some ways. How odd. The setting of quiet perfection felt strange to him. It’s been a while since things fell flawlessly into place. So effortless and painless. It was… unnatural yet comforting.

And it was. The silent breeze that came and went became his only companion that day. The usual passionate fury that ran his mind dissipated with the bright blue skies. The evening was approaching. The day had passed in such a fleeting moment that he wondered where did the day go?

Track Number 3

noreply@blogger.com (Smocks) — Sun, 12 Feb 2006 03:00:00 +0000

Take me high
Help me fly
Make me lie
Let me die

Make me smile
Walk my mile
Just a while
On the isle

On the land
Take your stand
In the sand
Hold my hand

Watch the tears
State your fears
Close your ears
By the pier

Wave goodbye
Learn to lie
Don't ask why
Just break and cry

Dance dance revolution

noreply@blogger.com (Smocks) — Wed, 08 Feb 2006 08:28:00 +0000

I was thinking about the secrets to happiness, and I've thought about it.

I've come to the conclusion is that there is no secret to happiness. Because really, face it. It's there all along. Whether we want to embrace it or not.

Like chocolate milk. Cigarettes and chocolate milk. Would you like a cigarette with your chocolate milk? Yes? Well, here you go. Ahh, instant pleasures.

But today I think I will go for the lemon tea, thank you!

At The Stars

noreply@blogger.com (Smocks) — Mon, 06 Feb 2006 09:58:00 +0000

"This one?"

She nodded quietly as she flicked the last of her cigarette into the sea of cars.

The setting was a busy one. Traffic was piling up and the sun was getting tired. It was about time everyone left.

"But why this one? What makes this one so particularly special?"

It was so easy to get lost in the setting, let alone your own thoughts. He tried to concentrate on holding onto just one thought but it seemed impossible. With every birth of a thought was the birth of another. Pretty soon, he found himself drowning in a sea of irrational behaviour.

"There's no reason. It's just the way things are."

She was always short in explanation. Always less never more because she lived to believe that a day at a time was the only way to go.

"But what if there was no today? Then how would things be? Why would you live that way? What made it happen this way?"

The dark sky was taking its course. You could already see the brightness of the black star peeping through holes of the burgundy drapes. He was trying to see what else could he say to make her stay, but every thing that came to mind seemed to pale and fade beyond her reasoning. And that was the way it always was. When placed next to her logic, every thing else would cease to make sense.

“But it doesn’t make any sense. YOU don’t make any sense. I’ve had enough of this!”

She watched as he stared back into her face with exasperation. Silly silly boy, she thought. Doesn’t he know that I will leave him one day? I look forward to the day I walk away from his arms, and feel his heart breaking in my smile.

She returned his frustration with a smile, and pondered about the many different theme songs that could and would enhance the soundtrack of her life.

“What makes you so… cruel? How can you live for each day by being so heartless? Don’t you have any compassion?!”

“There is no more room left for compassion or any other emotions. You’ve broken me a long time ago, and the only reason I’m still here is because I owe you this… favour…. I owe it to you to see you through your new world. Please don’t ask for anymore. You always wanted more from me - more than every thing that I could give you. And now, I’ve nothing left to give. You should be happy. You should be jumping for joy. And you must be! So, don’t question my motives or my feelings ever again.”

Staring into her lifeless eyes, he realised there was nothing left to salvage anymore.

He gave her one last look, and picked up the rest of his life that was scattered around and disappeared quietly back into the crazy world he once called home.

I’m just sad to think that I loved someone so cruel like you before.