I stole a glance at my clock this morning with sleep-drugged eyes and saw the time reading of 1001. Which reminded me strangely of binary coding which then set-off the fuse for an explosive idea of lyrics lit up in luminous green.
This is dedicated to all codemonkeys, gamers and geeks who've ever fallen asleep at their computers, their computer screens still glowing and to the weather that can never seem to make up its mind.
One day, these lyrics will see the brilliance of a composed score upon sheets of velvet-like vellum.
*laughs*
A Bombshell in Parliament
:: Binary Mornings ::
"The alarm's shrill and screams
Wake up! Wake up! WAKE UP!
Wake up! Wake up! WAKE UP!
Play! Play! PLAY!
Ten-oh-one,
Like coded binary,
It's the morning already,
Grey skies like the English fly,
sunlight blinded and stumbling aye,
open crusted, bleary eyes
GOOD MORNING!
The alarm's shrill and screams
Wake up! Wake up! WAKE UP!
Wake up! Wake up! WAKE UP!
Wake up! Wake up! WAKE UP!
Fading dreams and waking screams
Wake up! Wake up! WAKE UP!
Wake up! Wake up! WAKE UP!
Play! Play! PLAY!
The alarm's shrill and screams
Wake up! Wake up! WAKE UP!
Wake up! Wake up! WAKE UP!
Wake up! Wake up! WAKE UP!
Fading screams and waking dreams
Wake up! Wake up! WAKE UP!
Wake up! Wake up! WAKE UP!
Play! Play! PLAY!
We're up, the screen's on again."
I love the mornings, even though I'm not much of a morning person.
Hello, sunrise!
... and the post-rock screams of fading dreamscapes.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Sunday, March 06, 2011
>>> Like an imminent explosion...
Waking up to the feeling of wanting to be curled up in a foetal position and dying under a rock is not fun.
At all.
Seriously.
And then to feel like something was trying to explode out of my chest wasn't funny in the least. Suffice to say that getting out of bed today was a supreme effort in of itself.
I need a stiff drink, these feelings of frustration and misery, I can't shake them. So, perhaps drowning them would be better. In vodka. Or b33r. How I wish that I was in Sydney now... Away from this place, with so many memories that sting and hurt yet I have to bear with a rictus grin.
*sighs deeply*
How is it even possible to still be in love with a woman who broke up with you ages upon ages ago? To still have her constantly on your mind? To feel like you're empty without her, to hate the thought of her being with someone else? Especially if it's someone whom you might know?
[Trust me, it's happened that way for most of my exes, they'll end up with someone I know 3 times out of five]
Postscript: For the ladies and others, just bend the genders to accomodate your leanings.
*shakes head violently*
I don't know whether it would be acceptable to tell her the thoughts in my head. AND even if it was, when and how would I tell her??
Frustrating.
And the one thing in this whole bundle of joyous messiness that makes sense is this:
Grieve and let live.
And try to not let it devour you from the inside out.
... keeping calm like a bomb.
At all.
Seriously.
And then to feel like something was trying to explode out of my chest wasn't funny in the least. Suffice to say that getting out of bed today was a supreme effort in of itself.
I need a stiff drink, these feelings of frustration and misery, I can't shake them. So, perhaps drowning them would be better. In vodka. Or b33r. How I wish that I was in Sydney now... Away from this place, with so many memories that sting and hurt yet I have to bear with a rictus grin.
*sighs deeply*
How is it even possible to still be in love with a woman who broke up with you ages upon ages ago? To still have her constantly on your mind? To feel like you're empty without her, to hate the thought of her being with someone else? Especially if it's someone whom you might know?
[Trust me, it's happened that way for most of my exes, they'll end up with someone I know 3 times out of five]
Postscript: For the ladies and others, just bend the genders to accomodate your leanings.
*shakes head violently*
I don't know whether it would be acceptable to tell her the thoughts in my head. AND even if it was, when and how would I tell her??
Frustrating.
And the one thing in this whole bundle of joyous messiness that makes sense is this:
"Sometimes, even though you're [still] in love with someone, you just have to settle for second best by being just friends."
Grieve and let live.
And try to not let it devour you from the inside out.
... keeping calm like a bomb.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
>>> Doesn't matter...
... if you don't say it outright.
I can hear it in your tone and the things you say. The way you compare me to everyone else around us. In the way you treat all others differently.
I'm not in the same situation as everyone else. In fact, I'm NOT everyone else, I'm ME. I'm DIFFERENT. But, no, you still treat the whole thing as if I had the most normal lifestyle and upbringing in the world, like I had the same path as everyone else.
Ha!
Like REAL.
I'm so disconnected from people that I don't belong to ANY group, I just flit from group to group like I don't tangibly exist, even IF I do happen to like entertaining people. SO, I have to be alone at the end of the day with no one to turn to. But, guess what? I don't like being alone. In fact, I hate it. But would you understand? Oh, no, you wouldn't!
That would be such weakness to you, wouldn't it. Like how I'm weak all over, a failure and a disappointment, with my multitude of flaws, phobias, allergies and whatnot.
Unlike the other two, who are such bright stars in your eyes, perfect in every way.
Joy, joy, bully for them.
It doesn't matter what I do or say or anything, I'll never amount to anything in your eyes.
You don't even think that I'll get a place in any of the Unis that I'm applying for, do you? You probably even think that it's a waste of time helping me with anything 'coz I don't do anything for you. That everything that I do is a right that you possess and expect from me. So, I have no rights; I'm not a being who's entitled to his feelings, negative or otherwise. And who is to [or can] be blamed for everything that doesn't go right.
I'm always wrong, you're always right.
After all, I'm such a failure.
Aren't I?
I can hear it in your tone and the things you say. The way you compare me to everyone else around us. In the way you treat all others differently.
I'm not in the same situation as everyone else. In fact, I'm NOT everyone else, I'm ME. I'm DIFFERENT. But, no, you still treat the whole thing as if I had the most normal lifestyle and upbringing in the world, like I had the same path as everyone else.
Ha!
Like REAL.
I'm so disconnected from people that I don't belong to ANY group, I just flit from group to group like I don't tangibly exist, even IF I do happen to like entertaining people. SO, I have to be alone at the end of the day with no one to turn to. But, guess what? I don't like being alone. In fact, I hate it. But would you understand? Oh, no, you wouldn't!
That would be such weakness to you, wouldn't it. Like how I'm weak all over, a failure and a disappointment, with my multitude of flaws, phobias, allergies and whatnot.
Unlike the other two, who are such bright stars in your eyes, perfect in every way.
Joy, joy, bully for them.
It doesn't matter what I do or say or anything, I'll never amount to anything in your eyes.
You don't even think that I'll get a place in any of the Unis that I'm applying for, do you? You probably even think that it's a waste of time helping me with anything 'coz I don't do anything for you. That everything that I do is a right that you possess and expect from me. So, I have no rights; I'm not a being who's entitled to his feelings, negative or otherwise. And who is to [or can] be blamed for everything that doesn't go right.
I'm always wrong, you're always right.
After all, I'm such a failure.
Aren't I?
Saturday, February 05, 2011
>>> Getting inked...
... is like exorcising demons.
After all that delicious pain from the tattooist's needle penetrating your skin a dozen dozen over times within the span of a few seconds, the joy of seeing your freshly inked but raw and swollen flesh and the satisfaction of viewing the end-product, something that will always be an indelible part of you, inscribed into the depths of your epidermis and holds so much meaning and beauty within it.
Gorgeous scar tissue.
*dreamy sighs and fluttering eyes*
You feel lighter, too, like your burdens have been lifted from your shoulders, and your head's filled with euphoric helium, like you're floating on clouds and not walking upon hard pavement. You can't help but smile with silliness and joy.
But then again, it could be just the blood loss and body chemicals talking.
*laughs*
Yes, I have had my fourth tattoo carved into my flesh by a fine detail needle and an awesomely quick but efficient Louis of Lovesick Tattoos. And at a really strange hour, way after the sun had gone down and when the nocturnal denizens of this city-state were starting to come out of the concrete-work. But that's when it was done, under a moonlit sky within formed cement walls... Sometimes, I wonder if I would be better off having a nightjob somewhere. I seem to be more active at night, for some strange reason. But then, I do fall asleep at night, so I'm not sure how that would work out in the end.
*shrugs nonchalantly*
Go figure.
I'm still a helluva lot happier after my fourth inking.
My wallet's hurting, but I'm still happy.
Seriously.
Go figure.
Again.
After all that delicious pain from the tattooist's needle penetrating your skin a dozen dozen over times within the span of a few seconds, the joy of seeing your freshly inked but raw and swollen flesh and the satisfaction of viewing the end-product, something that will always be an indelible part of you, inscribed into the depths of your epidermis and holds so much meaning and beauty within it.
Gorgeous scar tissue.
*dreamy sighs and fluttering eyes*
You feel lighter, too, like your burdens have been lifted from your shoulders, and your head's filled with euphoric helium, like you're floating on clouds and not walking upon hard pavement. You can't help but smile with silliness and joy.
But then again, it could be just the blood loss and body chemicals talking.
*laughs*
Yes, I have had my fourth tattoo carved into my flesh by a fine detail needle and an awesomely quick but efficient Louis of Lovesick Tattoos. And at a really strange hour, way after the sun had gone down and when the nocturnal denizens of this city-state were starting to come out of the concrete-work. But that's when it was done, under a moonlit sky within formed cement walls... Sometimes, I wonder if I would be better off having a nightjob somewhere. I seem to be more active at night, for some strange reason. But then, I do fall asleep at night, so I'm not sure how that would work out in the end.*shrugs nonchalantly*
Go figure.
I'm still a helluva lot happier after my fourth inking.
My wallet's hurting, but I'm still happy.
Seriously.
Go figure.
Again.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
>>> Inspiration...
... from strange corners.
"Wipe the blood from our halos
and shred the wings of white
As the earth spits us out
Throw up our horns again.
Dust off our dark clothes
and walk out into the clear
For the skies to open wide
and electrify our souls again.
Shed our burnt, cracked skin
and eject these brittle bones
Whilst the oceans drown us
as our legs are chained again."
- Again This World
I'm listening to Slash, reading Twitter and freezing my ruddy arse off. The bloody weather can't seem to make up its bloody mind and it's not helping the drowsy and downright cold state that I'm in.
I can only blame Zach for being the one to actually start playing Slash off of Grooveshark - we're currently listening to "We're All Gonna Die (ft. Iggy Pop)" - and Miss Brighteyes for her ever so interesting tweet-feed. Those, and absolute boredom.
Yes, my mind works in strange ways.
Go figure.
"Wipe the blood from our halos
and shred the wings of white
As the earth spits us out
Throw up our horns again.
Dust off our dark clothes
and walk out into the clear
For the skies to open wide
and electrify our souls again.
Shed our burnt, cracked skin
and eject these brittle bones
Whilst the oceans drown us
as our legs are chained again."
- Again This World
I'm listening to Slash, reading Twitter and freezing my ruddy arse off. The bloody weather can't seem to make up its bloody mind and it's not helping the drowsy and downright cold state that I'm in.
I can only blame Zach for being the one to actually start playing Slash off of Grooveshark - we're currently listening to "We're All Gonna Die (ft. Iggy Pop)" - and Miss Brighteyes for her ever so interesting tweet-feed. Those, and absolute boredom.
Yes, my mind works in strange ways.
Go figure.
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