The Works

Professionalism

2011-07-09T08:30:00.000-07:00

"I give you ten minutes to complete this story," said the instructor, Ben.

The phrase 'ten minutes' rang in Kelly's head. Utterly challenged and peer-pressured added with a dose of unexpected findings, this camp was more than what she expected.

A break from real life? Yes but not quite. A camp of torture and despair? She didn't think of it that way.

She didn't know what to describe of this camp. Her professionalism was challenged.

10 minutes passed and her test pad remained blank, if not scribbled. "Ideas take time to develop, it doesn't come to you instantly," the instructor preached. All the while, a man stood up, showing a sheet of paper filled with writing. "Then, what about this?"

During the tea break, Kelly, fairly impressed with that man, approached him, though everyone seemed to do the same. Kelly didn't manage to get to him.

Just a face in the crowd, she thought and turned away. Probably she could do it later, as how the publishers kept waiting for her.

The man got to her before she left.

"Are you Kelly Arnolds?" the man asked. Kelly was surprised at this question, how could he be so unsure?

"I read your books and they are interesting, especially Night in Burmingham!" the man applauded. He continued with "I'm just an amateur writer, unlike you..." and came an astonished Kelly. "But i would love it if you could read my stuff sometimes!" the man said.

Perhaps I should get rid of this ego, Kelly thought. She formed a smile and answered, "Sure!"

Ghost on the 21st Floor

2010-12-11T05:31:00.000-08:00

This short story tells a story of a man whom experienced weird things when he worked over time in his office. The weird experiences might be more closer to him than he ever expected.

(PS: A friend of mine noticed multiple goofs and grammatical errors. I will rewrite it soon.) "I've heard rumors about this place since the day I walked in the office. Supposedly, there was this ghost no taller than a small boy running around in the office, specifically the 21st floor. So far I've been there, I've seen nothing, but that's worse than seeing it as your fears will multiply when you haven't actually seen your fear. All those imaginations running wild, figures huh?" I spoke to my wife.

"Great job storyteller, now, want some homemade pie?" my wife replied, handing me a slice of pie.

"Forget the pie, I was being real!" I objected, taking the pie in the process.

"Hahaha, you know how I feel about ghosts and how unreal they are," my wife took a slice of pie and sat in front of me across the table.

After the dinner, I went back to bed thinking about the rumor that my colleagues tell every now and then. It's scaring me. I work at the 21st floor for God's sake. And I frequently found myself working overtime. "Oh let it go, Alvin" I thought to myself. "There's no way the stories are real. People made it up for fun."

------------------------------

"Error number 2165, is it, ma'am? Error 2165 is hardware incompatibility. Tell me what hardware are you using?" I asked the female on the other end of the line. It was my job to respond to calls and troubleshoot the caller's problems.

The day passed and it was night. Again, I was working overtime. "Okay sir, if there's nothing else, I'll drop the call now. Remember, get your copy from a certified store!" I bid goodbye to the man on the line.

Packed up my stuff and looked around. Again, I was the only one left. The office looked eerie. I shrugged, trying my best to remove my fears and walked to the lift.

I heard a faint sound in the background. It was like a grunt of some sort. I turned back. In the dark parts of the office where light is absent, two eyes shine and what seemed to be two pairs of three sharp blades showed themselves. I took a run for the lift, and so did the ghost thing.

I turned right, to a hallway of lifts, the loud footsteps of the ghost thing present and loud. I reach out for the only lift open, dived in, and pressed the close button. The lift's door closing in, I saw the eyes. The freaky eyes. Yellow, with a black iris, much like a snake. The body was like burnt flesh and still dripping blood. I looked away, the sight was too much to bear.

I shivered my way back home. Instead of taking the usual shorter route, I went on the highway. At least, there were people there, unlike that shorter route, which was usually dark. My thoughts raced; What the hell did I saw back there? I couldn't stop thinking about the eyes, even though every flashing thought of it scared me to death.

Back home, my wife comforted me to sleep, saying words like "It was just your imagination" and "It'll be gone". Comfort was there, but only till the next day, when the same incident happened again.

------------------------------

"A week had passed, and the freaky incident seemed to be on replay, but every time it played, more detail came into play. Everyday I seemed to see more of it. Horribly disfigured mouth, dislocated shoulder, all else of a car crash's victim." I said to the therapist.

"Do you like the place you work at?" The therapist asked me, jotting down notes.

"It's the best place I've ever work at, everyone was friendly. I don't plan to quit either." I answered while sipping a cup of tea.

"Anyone else with the same experience, Alvin?"

"No doc, just me. Other co-workers experienced things like moving glass of water, vibrations, but nothing to the extent of my cases though."

"Well, Mr. Alvin, I'm not a spiritualist, but I am not a disbeliever either. That thing is apparently targeting you, but it's certainly not looking to devour you or physically hurt you. You see Mr. Alvin, when you find fear, you face it, you run towards it, you hug it, you kiss it."

"It's a ghost that we're dealing with, doc! I can't just go ahead and attack him!" I protested.

"Trust me, if the ghost was able to go from the other end of your office to you in a flash and if the ghost wants to have you killed, you wouldn't be here today." He said and what he said was logical.

"Okay. So what then?" I asked, curious of what will befall me if I ever attacked the ghost instead of it attacking me.

"That, is something out of my academical reach. Haha, I know, you might ask why do I suggest this when I myself do not know of the circumstances. But really, this is the best way to go."

"So, is this session over?"

"I guess so, I'll set up an appointment again next week to check on you." the therapist said. We shook hands.

I rose up to my feet and walked out of the room. From a distance, I could hear the therapist mumble something about "him" who was still "forgetting it". None of my concern, I have photogenic memory.

----------------------------------------

It was dinnertime. My wife prepared her special pasta, again.

"Tomorrow's the day, right?" my wife asked.

"21st of November? What was there to remember?" I asked back. My wife chuckled.

"Of course, you forgot. Never mind, haha!" My wife laughed. I remembered the therapist's mumbling.

"Forgot what?" I questioned.

"Oh, nothing in particular," My wife answered. "Are you done with that pasta?"

"What, nothing? Oh, never mind. Yeah, I guess I'm done. Thanks for the meal." I said, handing her the plate.

I walked up the stairs and headed to our bedroom's door. Before I went in, I took a look around the house. Family hall, bathroom and the other bedroom that was never used. I've always wanted that room to be used for our children, but my wife didn't want any.

Deep in my heart lies a thought where we were better off without children anyway. With that thought in mind, I went to sleep.

----------------------------------------------

I worked overtime, again. Another tech-illiterate person on the other end. After I concluded that dealing with the person wouldn't be a fruity deal, I packed my stuff and walked to the hallway of lifts. Like every other night I overtimed, the ghost was still there. Today, I came prepared. I am ready.

The ghost, with its disfigured physical looks charged at me at a speed faster than that of a cheetah. I turned, and hugged the ghost; The moment seemed like forever.

----------------------------------------------

"Dad?" a voice came out.

I opened my eyes. The ghost was gone, replaced with a little boy, aged 8 or 9. He seemed familiar.

"Remember me?" the boy spoke.

"I.... don't."

"I'm your son, dad. Your son..." he said in despair. I was surprised. I had a son?

Then it all came back.

------------------------------------------------

Ten years ago, on the exact date, I was driving a car at high speed. I was drunk and I wanted to kill myself. Little did I realise that my son, who was only 8 at the time was there in the car. I lost control of the car, it crashed into a building.

As the result, my driving license was revoked, and so was my son, he was revoked back to God. His physical condition was in such an abnormal state. Six long metal sticks pierced his hands, three on each. The impact destroyed his body completely.

The first few weeks after the accident were the worst parts of my life. I kept on blaming myself for everything I had done. I kept on seeing images of the accident. I frequently skipped meals.

When I fully recovered and went home and saw my son's room, I screamed in grief and tried to jump out of building, to redeem the hate I had on myself. My wife decided that it was the last straw and sent me to a therapist. Through months and months of recovery, I forgot my son's existence completely.

-----------------------------------------------

I cried, after everything came to. I hugged the ghost of my son tight and knelt.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... I shouldn't have took your life..." I grieved.

"It's okay dad, it's okay," my ghost-son comforted me. I cried more.

"Tell me what can I do... kill myself?"

"No dad, I need you to accept that I'm gone, only then can I go from this place."

"But I want you to stay here... with my family. Come, mom cooked something special, come with me," I took his hand and started walking.

"Dad... please, the more I stay here, the more I'll be in pain..."

"What're you kidding?" I insisted.

"Much more pain than the accident, dad, please..." My ghost-son begged.

I dropped to my knees. "I can't let you go..." I whispered in despair.

"But letting me go is the only way you can redeem yourself."

I stopped at the phrase "redeem yourself". I didn't want my son to be in pain and I wanted to redeem myself of what happened the last ten years. Keeping him here... is selfish.

"Fine..." I let go of his hand.

"Thank you, dad." He literally dissolved to thin air.

"Rest in peace." I kissed his forehead. He smiled while dissolving.

That night was the calmest night of my life.

Hiatus.

2010-11-13T05:17:00.000-08:00

I want to apologise for the hiatus. After PMR, my life has been hectic. Okay, it's not, I've been busy doing things that I have desired since pre-PMR. But currently, here are my WIPs to keep you anticipated:

-Autobiography of a Bicycle (Short Story)
-When Ten is Played (Short Story/New Concept)
-Aftermath (Short Film)
-A Ghost is My Girlfriend *Unconfirmed* (Short Film by Echo Films)
-A Ghost is My Girlfriend (Short Story... which probably will be adapted to a short film as listed above)

All of them are shorts. I do not have any plans for any poetry works yet. When the time comes, I'll keep you all updated.

So, what exactly am I working on now? It's a short story that I would like to title "When Ten is Played"; Which is a new concept and a new story altogether. I'll go down the details when I get to actually writing it. Now, time calls for me to gather the resources that I need to write this story down.

Till then, goodbye readers! :)

The Lady and the Wonderland (Poem)

2010-10-14T07:48:00.000-07:00

Here's a poem written by me (Well, obviously). Sorry for the hiatus. Big exam came up, and had to put all my writing down for a few months. Now that I'm back, I'm currently focusing on finishing the three novellas/long stories. I'll think of publishing the anthology then.

Now, for the poetry. This poetry covers the life of me in my class in the full 3 years. There's a deep reasoning as to how I describe myself as a lady (Please don't think me like I'm changing genders. Look deeper) and why the class is a wonderland.

The Lady,
Fearfully,
Step into a radiant palace

It feels like home,
It feels like heaven,
It feels like paradise

She decided to call it,
'Wonderland'

A land of hopes,
A land of dreams,
A land to reach out farther,
Beyond the possible,
Beyond the impossible,
Beyond the weirdest,
Among the strangest

In the Wonderland,
Six friendly guards came about,
Greeting her, each saying his name,

Mad One,
Misthought Cavalier,
Rabbit Policeman,
Religious Cat,
Comedic Hero,
Thinking Joker

Alongside them, eighteen women stand,
Looking despaired, they call themselves,
Poignant Soldiers

Thus, the land raged,
The waves crash,
War began,
It was all against the Lady,
For she was too dramatic,
For she was too abusive,
For she was too fierce

The war broke apart,
With a simple apology,
Thereof proving, they are forgivers,
The best forgivers of their kind

Thus they enjoyed their lives,
Together, like a family,
On a charade of happiness,
Down the streams of hope,
Up the hills of future

On the last day,
The Lady wishes to say goodbye,
Despite her leave remains doubtful,
Despite her heart lays on the floor of the castle,
Forever, and always.

Memories

2010-07-26T09:06:00.000-07:00

This time around, it's a despair story. I'm not a good sad-story writer, but if you couldn't handle it, then don't read it.

A summary; Robert was reminded of someone when a replacement lecturer came into the hall. Would this be a good turn down the memory lane? ‘Twas a normal day in the lecture hall. Robert sat relaxingly on a seat, waiting for the lecturer to come inside. Beside him was Joe, the loudmouth and Langley, the Chinese who came over to Britain to study Microbiology.

However, instead of the normal Professor Richard, Professor Camilia came into the hall. “I’m replacing Professor Richard today. Something came up, and he wasn’t in the right condition to attend,” said Professor Camilia.

There was a short but loud fuss over the simple matter of a professor not being able to attend to his class. Some gossiped that Professor Richard had one drink too many. Some said that he had lost one of his friends or family. The truth remains a mystery, however.

In any regards, Robert did not want to participate in mindless chatter. Instead, he preferred to stare at the professor and couldn’t just point out what was it on the professor that stole his interest.

Just as he started to wonder, Loudmouth Richard interrupted the thoughts, saying “You know, the teacher looks good. The hairstyle is way too fine!”

Then it struck him; the hairstyle, the hairdo, the peinado. It resembled Robert’s lover; the medium-length hair with a ponytail at the back. Robert changed his face into a depressed version of it.

After the class, Robert went back to his apartment, even though he had a class afterwards. His face was still the depressed one.

He went into his apartment and had a panoramic look across two ends of the apartment. Sounds were recalled from his memory, sounds of joy and laughter.

“Isabella!”
“I’m not giving this back to you!” she said, and laughed.
“Hey, I’m in the middle of a game here!” he replied, joining the laughing charade.

The conversation and the chase went on. Teardrops formed on his face, then it dropped down, and Robert fell to a kneeling position.

The hallucination went worse. He was then seeing images of her lover sitting down on the sofa and watching TV. Then he had an image of him, himself accompanying his lover.

The hallucination played on like a timeline. At one point, a romantic candle-lighted dinner between the two set up; Robert being the cook, and his lover the eater. Another, it was spring cleaning. The love between the two made spring cleaning a memory to remember, a good one at that.

The images continued at fast paced. In Robert’s eyes, all sweet memories seemed to be playing. Robert could only continue crying, for the memory of the incident after was far too much for him.

He had a hallucination of a sound coming from outside the door. It was a crashing sound. His apartment was broken into. A few men came in and broke everything down. The hallucination version of Robert and Isabella ran into one of the rooms to cover and hide, only to have the room attacked to a shameless degree.

The real Robert walked into the room with all his might to see what happened next. It’s not that he wanted to; it’s that he wanted to know more.

And there was the hallucination-Robert, protecting Isabella from the men.

“Take my life, but don’t take hers!” said Robert.

Sadly, the men did not listen. One of them took out a shotgun. The blast would take down the cupboard which Robert and Isabella hid under, had the blast been launched.

And so, the hallucination-Robert dives toward the man. The man pulled the trigger.

It hit Isabella, on the forehead.

The men ran away, leaving a shocked Robert and dying Isabella. Robert ran towards Isabella and cuddled her, tears streaming like a river.

Words of apology produced from his mouth. Nothing could help it. She was dying. Nothing could help it.

Back in reality, Robert went into an outrage, wrecking everything in sight. Despair took him over, totally. Honestly, this was what people would do when one of the worst occurrences was at their fault. They are stressed to the point where breaking everything seemed to be the best thing to do.

A considerate neighbour went into the room and saw Robert there, in an outrage. She called the emergency number and Robert was admitted into a mental hospital. He was then receiving treatment for a few weeks.

Weeks After

Robert presumably went back to normal. He wasn’t having anymore hallucinations, he never outrage, nor did the sight of Professor Camilia kill him. He was back to normal.

Except, he lost the only thing to hold on in this world; His lover. For that period of time of therapy and the time after, he did not produce a smile. He felt empty. When it was mealtime, he took a table with only two seats and ate alone. He felt empty.

There was nothing that he could hold on to. The memories were taken away. The only sweet memories that he had with Isabella were taken away. And that scenario had killed his heart.

Renovated

2010-07-20T08:09:00.000-07:00

As of current, I am renovating my blog for easier access and easier for you readers to contact me. Click read more to read about the future/current improvements that will/are implemented on this blog

- A true "About Me" page
- "Read More" function.
- Round buttons for ways of contacting Yours Truly
- Reader Count
- Possibility of a new blog header

Epic Story I: The Perfect Teen

2010-07-13T02:54:00.000-07:00

Imagine a boy with good looks, good intelligence, good sense of humour, good money and in fact, good in any kind of sport he indulges himself into. The only twist being, he's too smart for his school, teachers. So often, he runs around the school doing exactly nothing.

Let's just kick the story off with a small setup of the teen receiving his results.

"Erik, surprisingly, your marks are again, the highest in the class, and possibly in the whole school too," says the teacher snidely. Erik took the paper and sat quietly.

"Damn, he again? What's up with that?"

"You know, he skipped class more than he attend them. How the hot damn did he get the highest?"

"He's the pro, what do you expect?"

Gossips and whispers everywhere, never an attention paid by Erik as he weaves over the papers, checking for wrong answers, and marking the right ones in his brain, so that in the future, there will be no more similar mistakes.

Using this method, Erik jumped from 45 to 100. "All questions are the same, ain't them, mate?" nudges Lindsay, a classmate sitting next to him. "Yeah, I suppose they photocopy them questions from a random library," Erik jokes. He continues on checking the papers until he is finished. Then it is recess.

What good way of spending recess than skipping the food for lunch that comes later and spend time with flirting around girls? And so, Erik walks into a library and sees a few junior librarians. He sees a cute one, with the name tag showing the name "Krystal".

"Hi, I'm interested," says Erik, passionately, stopping Krystal dead in her tracks. The just-right scent of men's cologne and the nice hairdo, complimented by the flawless face and the amazing turquoise eyes simply takes Krystal's breath away. And people wonder how Erik gets all the girls tracking him down.

By the end of recess, Erik has probably gotten Krystal's, and a few other girls' (that he met while on the way back to class) numbers. Simple process of a look into the eye and sweet nothings. He has decided to skip class and walks out before the first teacher comes into class.

He walks relaxingly, thinking about possibly everything. Seeing a few teachers noticing him skipping class isn't really a bothersome meet for him. The teachers are ashamed to invite him back to class, for even if he skips school for a month, he'll still be on the right track and still will be the top, in fact, perfect.

And so, people concluded that he will have no competition, at all. Some will go further than a stone's throw to say that he fell from the sky, thus, a Fallen Angel. Though that's a far-fetched theory, nonetheless.

During the final period, he goes back into class, for the class is Mathematics, and he cannot afford to lose a Maths class because he plain enjoys calculating. One sad thing is that, he and the maths teacher was never in good terms.

Accidentally, there is a Maths quiz coming up a few days soon. No matter the level of hatred being passed down from the teacher to Erik, it is undeniable that Erik be chosen to join the quiz. A selection is then cast between the classmates.

Joshua, Erik's classmate who is also not in good terms with the Mathematic teacher decides to volunteer. However, Joshua's request isn't permitted.

"You don't even finish your homework in time, and you think you can have my permission to join? No." The teacher says, as he looks away hatefully.
"And what, you think he doesn't have what it needs? I've seen his marks. Don't you dare deny it, he's good," Erik contests, fighting Joshua's rights.

"Do you want me to pull your entry?"

"Better than not standing up for my friend. You know he can, you just hate him because he doesn't do the overload that you call homework." He protested.

"I know you can't release me either, this sectionals quiz will decide what the judges think of your teaching credibilities. It's either Joshua goes in, or I walk out," Erik ends, as he walk out of the classroom, as the bell rings saying it's goodbye from the school to the students.

The whole class is silenced by this epic placement of mouth battle. There wasn't possibly a way for a student to outclass a teacher, but it happened, right there and then, in front of their eyes.

***

On the suburban streets of Silver Paradise, a city located in the regions of Alabama, America, Erik walks upstairs in the local skyscraper to head to the roof, which is a famous spot for hanging out. He reaches there, and lies down, looking at the sky.

There's no one else there, it being a working day.

"It's beautiful," he says. In his beautiful ruby eyes, there is a shine of regret, despair, and also hope.

As he goes to a seating position, from a distance, he sees a man standing on the edge of the roof.

Without a thought, it's obvious what that man is trying to do. Erik rises up and runs forward, to stop the man from jumping down and killing himself.

He was too late.

Erik reaches the edge of the roof just a split second after the man jumped down. Erik doesn't think twice, and jumps in as well. He has something in his eyes. It's called determination and knowing that he can save the man. He has lived far too long and the man still hasn't seen everything.

Being Erik, master of aerodynamics, he makes it so that his speed is higher than the man's, therefore, making him able to get to him in time. He hugged the man tight, and twists around so that the man is horizontally above him.

And there it is, a sight of a boy saving a man. Within a second, what seems to be white wings grow from Erik's back. They're large too. If humans were birds, then Erik is a garuda. Myths aside, Erik does feel the wing. He smiles and murmurs "So, you finally accepted me back? Thanks,"

And then they both crash into the solid tar road. Debris fill the area. It takes a while before anyone could get a clear view on what happened. Once they do, however, it is a big surprise. The boy is not there and the man continues on living.

The people looks around for Erik, though there is no sight of him, ever. From a distance, far away, a silhouette of a person with the largest wings ever set on Earth flies away, upwards and outwards off Earth.

Indeed, Erik is a Fallen Angel.

Phrases

2010-07-03T11:01:00.000-07:00

I noticed that I am posting two-word phrases on FB daily. No, I am not compiling them all and put them down a humongous list, I'll actually create 100 and put them down a huge list. Why? It's 2 AM in the morning and I feel productive. And yes, this shall be tagged as "Experimental".

Alright, here we go, 100 two-word phrases that could bring a meaning, a story, or even a representation of my life.

1)Finding Means

2)Right One

3)Avoiding Conflicts

4)Obtaining Possibilities

5)Reaping Hearts

6)Break Away

7)Despairing Loner

8)Passing Fluency

9)Standing Up

10)Fighting Back

Well, that's 10. The rest 90 shall be posted in a video. I figured that if I made this a 100, I'll actually be condemned the longest poster in the world, and I don't feel like cheating. Therefore, just wait for a vlog-like video!

Wake Up

2010-06-28T06:18:00.000-07:00

It's a short story this time around. Don't worry, it's......... fun to read, I hope.

------------
  I wake up again. Look around the room, trying to pick up even the slightest frequency of noise. No. Not one. He's simply not there any more. Not a single scream of glee, not a cry of hope, not a laugh due to comedic anime being displayed on TV.

  Last night's tragedy was true then.

  I watched the whole thing happen in front of my eye. An accidental stab from one person to him, instantly a kill on-the-spot. In regards to the aftermath'd scream, it was one of the most painful things to happen to anyone in the world.

  Was the fight really necessary? As I begin to reminisce the event from the beginning to the finish, it's raining. Weirdly, even though I'm inside my house, the rain drops seem to flow down my cheeks. I guess I'll have to call the works again, to repair the emptiness in my soul.

  I am still looking around, because I really can't believe the fact that my brother, is indeed gone, due to my own act. Only emptiness, emptiness, and more emptiness. What does three layers of emptiness make? A simple but powerfully killing phrase; Eternal despair.

  Really, I shouldn't have started that fight.
---------------

Browsing Through the Pictures

2010-06-22T09:32:00.000-07:00

I've got my mind set up for a short story, actually. But I found a masterpiece while exploring folders and files. Produced this poem after seeing the masterpiece in detail. Oh by the way, this time, it won't be rhythmic. Rhythm locks me within its shell.

While browsing through the pictures,
I found it,
The masterpiece,

Art of ultimatum,
Beauty beneath the hundreds,
The pearl of the black ocean.
I found it

Perhaps I'm being over-dramatic,
Perhaps I'm just being lovesick,
But my words are true,
And so is that picture of you

A New Way Out

2010-06-21T02:35:00.000-07:00

Sigh, how I wish I could have access to my upstairs computer's HDD. There's a flock of writing things in there. If I had the power to access it, rest assured, I'll be published no doubt. Hehe. Anyway, here's a poem to you, my dear readers (Narcissism much?)

He runs and climbs,
Swims and scouts,
Trying to find,
A new way out

He searches for years,
For months and weeks,
One thing he fears,
Is the un-meet

The exit, unlike any other,
Is no normal door,
Opened through mothers,
Closed through fatal force

If you cannot get it,
I'm sure you would,
For no one would miss it,
Nor anyone could

PS: Time to play decipher? Decode this poem if you can!

Stalker

2010-05-23T01:38:00.000-07:00

Dedicated to people who realise the fact that they, indirectly, became a stalker when they are just being a lovesick person.

And also to Shaun Low, I followed his advice this time 'round, and made this poem rhythmic, yet pragmatic and dramatic.

I don't know how it turned this way,

I am not a stalker, no I am not,

But my words are like Jokerman's says,

They're all fakes, lies and frauds.

I'm telling the truth, my own perception,

Of this soliloquy'd self impression,

That turned out to be a misconception,

Between me and my future directions.

I wish you could listen to me,

Scream in pain,

As I realise the stalker is me,

Over again.

I'm sorry if I terrify you,

It's just that I'm a lovesick baboon,

I tried so hard to make you swoon,

Only to realise, you're covered in fear wounds.

So here I stand, in fear of you,

Watching and thinking, what would you do?

Filled with regret, yes I do,

Would I be happy, if I hear "I love you too"?

Psshaw, everything happens in a flash,

And so does feelings,

The changes are rash,

From talking to fearing,

Of bites and gnash,

From this sickening act, that gets the stash,

What I want to gather,

Is us bonding together,

But from my act, I'll live alone, forever.

PS: Probably will do a recital, some way, someday.

For the Best Girlfriend in the World

2010-04-18T06:36:00.000-07:00

Life wouldn't be perfect without you,

Like a summer vacation,

Without the ice creams,

Oh emptiness.

Your calls make my heart stop,

Because the only supply I need is you,

Your messages make my eyes hurt,

From such a long time being away from you,

Your voice makes my body shiver,

As I can't believe that you are mine,

Be my music,

And I shall be your player,

Be my book,

And I shall be your reader,

Be my tears,

And I shall be your shoulder,

Be mine,

And I shall be yours

For the Best Girlfriend in the World,

I love you forever and always,

A year of quarrel would not be a deal,

For our relation spans forever.

Your Time and Mine

2010-04-07T04:32:00.000-07:00

Your time,

Wasted on me,

My time,

Wasted on you,

But you know,

We never really bothered.

If there was an option,

To reverse time,

I would not take it,

For I am in my best time,

And I'm sure,

You are in your best too.

I'm always broke,

That's the truth,

But you found no obligations,

For us to be together.

Frankly, I am relieved,

To admit everything I wrote,

Was ever so true.

How I wish we could escape,

But that was before,

Now, I wish not to run away,

In the end,

You changed my life, forever.

I've to say that I'm happy,

To change my life because of you,

Now, I feel like an all-around better person,

Because you are there to support me.

If this ever was a dream,

I wish to wake up,

And make this dream a reality,

For your time and mine,

Are nothing but pieces of sweet love,

Gathering together for its Cloud 9.

Elizad's First Day in Middle School (Incomplete)

2010-03-15T08:40:00.000-07:00

Writer's note; I thought I should put up a short story here, seeing as how my works lacks those things. Therefore, this is a witty (I hope) story for you all! A story of a silly (Again, I hope) boy whom was on his first day in middle school

-------------------------

"Li, when you go to that new school, be sure to think about your mother and not make a fool out of everyone!" Li's (Elizad) mother spoke.

The scene would've been less awkward and out of place had the scene took place inside a car, not in the class where students reside and being taught by a shabby looking teacher. Especially since the girl targeted by Li as his future wife watched the act of the mother and son. 'Ahh yes, I'll be smooth sailing with my love on our luxury yacht as we laugh at fools that believed that we could never be together' Li thought in his head when he first saw the girl in class.

Dreams are meant to be broken, and so, with the simple act of a mother teaching her child on how to act, but was placed at the wrong set, Li's dream was shattered to a million pieces like a glass dropped from the 41st floor. Yes, it was that tragic.

Among all the shattered fragments of the dream, Li still kept one in his heart. No matter how silly he'll look, that girl, Aina, will be his, like it or not.

Before questions aroused as to why, ironically, her mother was giving Li words of "Don't make a fool out of you" in his class, the answer will be given first-handedly. Li, despite the big dreams, had such a small grasp in the real world. He floats in his dreams, and sinks in real life.

That was why Li returned home everyday with bruises around his body due to falling off the staircase.

Li's mother left the class as soon as the shabby teacher reminded that it's already 9.00 A.M., two hours after school session had already begun, and for that two hours, Li's mother boringly advised Li in a continuous pace, never stopping for once. And for that two hours, Li had the shame of his lifetime and it's going to be repeated again tomorrow, just like when he was an elementary-school attendee.

Li's class-table neighbour, Arshad, whom stood by the nickname "The Pirate of the 10,000 Gold" or "Ar" for short, nudged Li on the shoulder and asked "Where do we hang out during recess? Same spot?". Li nodded as if he had been humiliated. Then again, he indeed had been humiliated.

Arshad was a fellow friend of Li, they stuck together for a long time, back when they were still in kindergarten. Li remembered the time when Arshad brought a toy pirate sword to the kindergarten and invited Li to go on a hunt for treasure. At the end of the day, the hunt prevailed at the cost of the pirate sword confiscated and the treasure was a 30-minute scolding from their parents.

Li spun 180 degrees and looked along the class, people were indeed whispering and Li was quite certain that the whispers were about him. It wasn't oblivious, people whispered and casted a look towards Li. Among the whispers, Li did not notice the happy chuckles of an entertained Aina.

The class ended and recess started. Li, along with Arshad (He will be referred as "Ar" after this) walked around the school till they came across an empty bench that was staring at a water fountain, presumably the school's. The water fountain, unlike many other of the school's facilities that would be very useful, was working perfectly. Li sat on the bench and so did Ar.

It was their usual spot due to the fact that the elementary school combines with the middle school. The only separator was the elementary school started in the evening, and middle school started in the morning.

Li spoke "You know, had it not been for my mother, Aina would be within my reach right now." Ar commented "Well, look who's coming," as he pointed at a direction, the direction that would make Li live in bliss. Aina was walking towards them.

As Aina approached Li, Li was caught red-handed. His eyes shown a slight hope for love, his mouth, physically, was watering for care from a loving girl, his heart beats fast so much so that Ar said "Stop shaking!" and his mind was lost within his marriage-day cruising dreams.

With a voice that could fit in a harmony of orchestra, Aina whispered "You are funny, Elizad, can I be with you?". Just as how a finger was lifted automatically after touching a hot fire, Elizad did as much to push Ar away from the bench, rendering Ar to fall on the flat grass. However, Ar was not offended, instead, he walked away, he knew that this was Li's big chance, and as a best friend of Li's, he was not the one to spoil that big chance, or at least, until Li became a playboy and talked his way to flirt Ar's love; Suzanne.

Aina sat next to Li on the bench and the first thing that came out from her mouth was "Oh dear, I'm feeling an earthquake!" Li quickly told Aina that Malaysia was out of Pacific Ring of Fire, therefore any occurrence of natural disasters were unlikely to happen. Aina asked what was the shake that she experienced but Li quickly commented that they shouldn't think about that.

Aina questioned whether the mother just now was Li's or not, Li answered "Yes, she was my mother, and I know, I'm lame." That's when the conversation between the two kicked off.

From afar, a crowd gathered around the bench and started staring at the couple of Li and Aina. They seemed ever so unlikely to be together and yet there they were, talking and sitting together like two lovebirds. It was truly the epitome of irony for the difference in popularities between the two.

Aina noticed the obvious crowd and whispered to Li "We'll see each other again. This evening at the park, yeah?" and just like that, Li could actually be sent to the hospital for "Death of shock". Apparently, he woke up in the nurse's office.

"Uhh, what happened?" Li asked the nurse, scratching his head. "You got a nosebleed, your heart stopped due to high-speed beating, and you fainted" The nurse answered. "Wow, my first day and this thing happens? Great..." Li sarcastically said, and tried to stand up, but got held back by the nurse. "You still need some rest, you lost a major amount of blood."

Lying down, Li thought about his dreams again. As he and Aina cruised the seven seas, they laugh at people who were in the negativity of them being together. It was like the movie Titanic, only the boat did not crash, and it was set in modern time, so there were no 80s hairstyle.

As they cruise, exchanging words of love shall be given, one by one. It would be the cruise of a lifetime, until.....

"Li! Wake up! You've to go home!" a familiar voice shook Li wide open. Li casted a frown and said unwarily "Excuse me for being on a cruise with my love!" as he woke up. Much to his surprise, the voice was his mother. "Your............. love? Honey, you got to tell me about that!" her mother, as it seemed, was taken aback at the word "love", like a baby who found a guitar.

So back in the car, in five minutes, Li explained to his mother about his newfound love. Li was always ever-so-open to his mom, ever since his mother explained that she was the first person who saw Li naked and that fact, though known by everybody, had thrown Li a big surprise. Li knew that telling her mom would be the best way, as she also was a girl.

Then again, did Li's mother knew about hand phones back when she was a girl?

(PS: It's incomplete. The complete version should land when the time comes)

The Grieving Poet

2010-03-15T04:15:00.000-07:00

Originally typed from my hand phone. This is a poem titled "The Grieving Poet". I'm not sure whom do this poem resemble, but nonetheless, another work into the stream.

Ah, that feeling again,

The feeling of being incomplete,

It's not fathomable,

As life strikes to its twelve o'clock

Before time runs out,

A reminisce of past events hits,

Like an old musician,

Playing terrible compositions from a century before,

As the poet thinks,

How life turned out this way,

It is far from what he wished as a child,

'Pilot' muttered from his old, non-chattery mouth,

No wife, friend, nor a single daughter,

Let alone loving ones,

That is the non-biased fact,

Of a grieving poet,

That regrets his past acts

The Scream (Poem/Rap)

2010-03-10T00:23:00.000-08:00

"Hey you!"

"What?!"

"YOU DID THIS TO MY DAUGHTER! NOW LOOK AT HER, SHE'S BLEEDING!"

"THIS WASN'T MY FAULT!"

As everything proceeds, the fights go on,

Nobody realizes how strong was the emotion,

The emotion of the girl,

Getting hit at the forehead,

I'm telling you, it's tragic

As the drivers bubbled mouths cursing each other,

The girl, screams in pain,

Sad, mad, scared, glad,

Reflect, Regret, Remorse, Red,

All over her face, red screams

Someone pick her up and send her to the hospital please!

The scream that echoes through the night,

The scream that makes you unable to sleep,

The scream that breaks a thousand walls,

The scream that'll make you fall down crying

Nobody was aware of her,

All they did was look and go away,

As the girl steps closer to death,

Nobody cares, nobody cares

Someone, help her please.

The Isle of Time

2010-03-06T21:07:00.001-08:00

Another poem from me. Created yet again in my tuition class. Title? "The Isle of Time". A few more and I might as well publish an anthology!

As I walk down the isle,

Of time,

Of wasted time.

Unnatural is my feeling,

As I watch myself,

Walking down the cursed isle,

Oh, time is wasted!

As life's closer to death,

Every second passes like wind,

On a hot, summer day

How do we collect time,

And use it well,

When we even do not know,

How to fill it usefully?

How do we collect time?

Though it passes in rage,

Exclaiming its fear of itself.

Silence, the Unsung Dictator

2010-03-06T20:53:00.000-08:00

Just a little note; If you hate me so much stifler, then why waste your time commenting? Oh well.

Here's a poem that I name "Silence, the Unsung Dictator". Created in my tuition class where it was really, really silent that time.

Silence controls the room,

Dictating humans,

Remaining speechless

Silence; An enemy, a friend,

To the blistering thinkers,

To the dying to speak politicians,

Abstract, yet absolute, definite.

The killers of silence,

The fools and geniuses,

The party-goers,

The silent act visitors

Silence, the Unsung Dictator.

If Life had a voice.... Part 1

2010-01-16T23:22:00.000-08:00

Do note that I have no intention to offend any religion, that includes my own.

So, what happens if Life had a voice, and a person is dead? Here’s my assumption…

It's a bad one because it's a bit rushed. Sorry. I'll try better next time.

-----------

Life’s dialogue with a drunkard who got an accident

Life: Hello, Isaac.

Isaac: Huh? Where am I?

Life: You are in Nothingness, Isaac. Nothingness.

Isaac: Who are you? Where is this place? (Isaac's getting nervous)

Life: I am you. When you're alive anyway. Have you regretted your choice?

Isaac: What choice? What choice? I'm confused!

Life: Choice to drink and drive. I am Life. I just left your body.

Isaac: ...... This is bullshit.

Life: No, this is reality. You are in Nothingness, and now you're conversing with me, Isaac. I saw everything in your moments of living, until you crashed the truck.

Isaac: ...... I remembered that truck. I was drunk..... and crashed into it. I'm not sure what happened then. What's your point?

Life: My point? You are dead. And you broke your vow with Mary.

Isaac: What vow?

Life: The vow to stop drinking if she accepts your proposal. Don't tell me you forgot? After 11 years of marriage?

Isaac:......

Life: Cry as much as you want, but it's too late, Isaac. You are dead, and nothing's going to change that. Enjoy Nothingness.

Oh God, I'm one awful dude

2009-12-12T19:24:00.000-08:00

I left this blog for long and now it's dusty. I doubt there're visitors, but whatever.

Anyway, what "Work" is there today? A continuation of an amazing song by Dear Juliet titled; Love Note:

So how would this help me in my adventure to get me into that "Good Writer" status? Nothing really. Just writing off creativity and the "die-hard fan" feeling

Alright, if you're gonna sing to this continuation, note that it follows the same rhythm, so.... you won't find anything hard to sing.

Here are the lyrics and the continuation:

Sometimes I think I need to get away,
Pack all my things,
Get on a plane,
Head off alone one summer day,
Never look back at the town i called home,
Maybe visit California,
I hear it's nice there in the summer,
But all the waves and coastline and sunset shores would just make me miss you more,

We were a pair of sweet couples but then,

Your dad told me,

Get off your case,

But we know that won't happen soon,

Because our hearts are tied to this line,

We can never break away,

We listened but didnt't care, we never did, (<--- This part is really bad)

Like all the sentiments we shared, would only make us stronger,

Sometimes I think we need to get away,

Pack all our things,

Get on a plane,

Head off together one summer day,

Never looked back at the town we called home,

Maybe California,

I heard it's nice there in the summer,

But all the waves and coastline and sunset shores would just make us miss him more

Yea, that last stanza was just a mere edit of the original first. But hey, maybe you can find something deep in there, no?

There is no step (Poem)

2009-11-09T05:46:00.001-08:00

As far as I try,

As hard as I could,

As powerful as I could be,

Trying to make you mine is impossible

You are invincible,

There's a force guarding you,

It's blocking me from you,

So I could not go to you,

Or was the force - myself?

I couldn't make you smile,

Yet other's could,

Is it because of me?

One thing certain, it couldn't be you,

For you are perfect, and there is no flaw to you.

You are the one I love,

You are the one I like.

There is too much to say about you,

I'll start with number infinity-two

There is no step to get to you,

Because there aren't stairs,

For you are too high,

To be etched or painted

And so I conclude,

There is no step for me,

To take on you

Excerpt? Yes.

2009-10-09T09:08:00.001-07:00

If you follow my writing progress, it depends on you whether to cry “YES!” or plead “NO!!”

Third entry, by the way :D.

This is an excerpt from Bliss. Unwritten yet on my novel, but will be as soon as I got my hand-written chapter digitally-copied. And once it is, it will be a milestone in my writing history! Three long chapters and still hadn’t been deleted by my nosy sister!

Oh, to new-comers; Bliss is a novel written by me who tells a story of a 13-year old teen who is exceptionally strong, smart, and good-looking. Now, while he is the protagonist, he is a bad dude. Working under a dark group called Black Skull, he’s trying to find a way to annihilate his boss, and take control of White Heart Agency (WHA), the most powerful organization in the world.

Can’t do paragraphing as Windows Live Writer = Still beta.

--------------------------

“So here we stand, facing each other.” Bliss exhales, walking around Richard. “I ordered to send a man. But now look, due to their weak comprehension skill, four died under the rubble,” He continues in disappointment, legs moving in a perfect circle around a knuckle-cracking Richard.

“You know, you don’t seem like a tough guy. Well, not to me at least,” Bliss stopped, pointing towards Richard, saying that sentence confidently. Now, if that thick muscles and big abs still doesn’t count as a “tough guy”, one can only wonder what is.

To make it more ridiculous, the person who’s saying that is no one but a little 13-year old. Little, as in there is no packed muscles, abs, triceps nor biceps, not even a muscled calf to begin with. But there’s always the classic saying “Never judge a book by its cover”.

And Richard’s off for a straight punch to Bliss, who is standing right there calmly, as if nothing scares him. As the mili-second when the punch is supposed to be on his face, it happened to be grasped in his hands. “See, you’re just not the right ‘tough guy’ I’m looking for. Thanks for coming anyway” Bliss said and a blow reaches the belly of Richard, who is throbbing in pain seconds later.

“You’re quiet silent aren’t you? Come on, speak up, me alone couldn’t remove the silence,” Bliss admitted, without realizing he’s quite a big talker here.

And noise came from Richard, not a comprehensible phrase, a scream rather, as he charges to Bliss. “Boy, do I know this would happen,” Bliss reached out for a button in his pants… and a loud boom sound came about.

Half of the titanium-equipped room seems to be gone. Blasted away it seems. And so did Richard. The room doesn’t seem to be falling down though. It kept standing still on its two hind “legs”. All thanks to Bliss’ architecture of this airport.

Bliss looks around, noticing several men down below, holding rifles of what seemed to be T5RX-GT rifle loaded with 100-bullet magazine, a WHA exclusive. Realizing this, it is obvious that they are the WHA Emergency Team Operatives.

So he’s surrounded, big deal. And it seems Joseph, again, broke the promise of “One-man only”. Bliss drops from the room to the blank road, people gasp, and the rifles are pointed his way. He lands on his two feet in a kneeling position, from which he quickly stands up.

He looks around, one, two, ten rifles pointed his way, not even counting the hidden snipers and other WHA ETOs from around the block. And there is Joseph Buquet, in a suit with bullet-proof jacket that doesn’t even fit him.

Bliss is going to escape from this situation. But how? From a normal person’s viewpoint, he can't get away from this one. But odds are, he can.

In a flash, he is in front of one of the operatives, tipping the tip of the rifle away by using his finger. “The thing is, unless the gun you’re using is more powerful than a Desert Eagle, you can’t pierce me with these bullets. Nope, never ever,” he exclaims, putting his left hand on the operative’s shoulder. Three-two, and a pinch laid on a specific section on the operative’s neck, making him fall to the ground helplessly.

A blaze of shots came to Bliss, who only shook around just a little. “I’ve also got a bullet-proof jacket, just in case,” he says, looking back at Joseph.

Helplessly, the rest of the operatives limps to the ground, all fainted due to just a puny pinch. “Sniper, hello?” Joseph whispers desperately, as Bliss reach up upon him.

“With the assistance of my guys, your snipers are taken away. I’d like some tea to enjoy our first face-to-face meet, but a person’s have to jet. You failed to compromise with your promise, therefore, actions will be taken.” Bliss says calmly, pushing Joseph away to get into one of the fancy vehicles WHA uses.

He rolls down the window and says “You still haven’t seen my face. But they did, and they will forget. All due to my little acupuncture pinch.” Then, he rolls off.

It is true, Joseph did not catch his face, due to the incredible size of that hood-jacket Bliss is wearing. It provides a sense of camouflage, and may one say, a touch of the streets.

Joseph couldn’t call on the search, he just doesn’t want his family to be in vain, therefore, he calls off the chase. And he’s in for a big job disaster.

I have a story on my friend.

2009-10-06T07:09:00.000-07:00

Have you a friend that lives in another dimension? I have one, his name is Monza, living in the 4th dimension.

He is a nice guy, despite that he can move two more directions compared to us, he still did not care about the difference and depicted it as "Unrequired".

What does he look like? Like a normal human, but different culture and race, just how Indian and Malaysian friends are. His skin is white, but not pale, tanned, rather. He is built of handsome and crafted of knowledge.

Where does he live? Here. Earth. We can't see him or any other 4th dimensional characters for he moves in a direction incomprehensible by us 3rd dimensional people. Ana and kata, those were the movements.

So how did I see him? He was moving forward, a 3rd dimensional movement which we can comprehend. A student in our school, it seemed, but if he was normal, he traveled through wall, but I was the only one to witness that. He then told me after I saw him that he was moving "kata"

4D is a fun place to be. Monza claimed 3D people have felt it since day one, but it was too small of a number. An example? The magician named Spamdini who dissapeared in the tightly locked box. And you thought there was a hole down below!

I felt kata, appreciations to Monza for that. He held my arm, and whispered "We're moving kata now," and I was surprised that at first we walked through walls, then flew, then ended up in Paris. Incomprehensible, but incredible somehow.

We then had adventures together for years. There was this weird moment where we were playing "Chicken" against a moving train. Of course, moving in a 4th dimensional movement, we didn't get scratched. Terrifying experience though.

There's also this time where we had to hike up a mountain and down. But being with Monza, we traveled "Ana" and went through the mountain. You couldn't stop laughing at the teacher's expression when she saw us reaching there first!

Now, I am married to him, despite our difference. We have two dearest sons, Matthew and Patrick. Matthew inherited his father's properties, but Patrick's stuck with 3D. Poor Patrick when he chased Matthew, why? Matthew always runs to a wall and goes through it! And let's not even get started about those late night pranks Matthew always pull to his little brother!

At this limited time, this is all I can write about Monza and his 4D world. So, until the next time, bye!

-Sarah, 2009

(This is none but a small sketch of 4th Dimension. I learnt about 4D through the Internet and found it intriguing. So today, I got the inspiration to write a story about it, weird huh?)

Let It Be (Remember Me)

2009-09-26T20:32:00.000-07:00

Only lyrics for now, sadly :P.

-----

(Verse)

The movies that we watched,

The songs that we sang,

The memories that we shared,

Won't I forget,

Won't I forget

But now I have to go,

I hope you'll never be,

In a deep sorrow

(Pre-Chorus)

I guess my time has come,

I have to go, so far,

(Chorus)

But remember me,

Remember me,

Across the eternity,

Remember me,

Across the eternity...

(Bridge)

Let it be now,

Today or forever,

(Repeat Bridge)

(Post-Bridge)

As long as you,

Never forget me

As long as you,

Always remember me.

(Verse 2)

Do you remember the days,

Where I recalled,

That people have to go before others do,

Now my time has come,

Now I have to go,

I guess what I said, is true

Now in a sorrow,
There's a medicine to cure your sickness,
Of miss-you-so-much-though-your-gone influenza

Just remember me,

Remember me,

Across the eternity,

(Feeling better now?)

Remember me,
remember me,
Along our memories,

Let it be now,
Today, or forever,

Just let it be now,
Today, or forever,

Let it be now, (Memories that we shared)
Today, or forever (The songs that we sang)

Let it be now,(The memories that we shared)
Today, or forever (I hope we won't forget)

I hope we won't forget.

Woohoo :D

2009-09-26T08:16:00.000-07:00

Blog about my works is finally created after a long time of wanting and not-wanting.

What will be in here is my works, of course. Songs, Poems, Stories, heck, even my novels will be here, well, at least parts of it (I still want moneh for publishings).

Click on the ads if you have the time and would like to donate. Just so you know, I won't put music here because I think it promotes distraction. However, if you feel like you want me to put in music, feel free to post into the cbox to the left.

So, what is my first work? It is a song. Titled "Let It Be"/"Remember Me". Going to be posted later.