No Rights Reserved.

I think if I'm angry then that means there's a source for it. Yet, I just can't seem to find it. It's like a small parasite etched within and eating me from inside. All I can do is just thrash around with pain, making a scene while the rest of my friends wonder what's going on with me.

I prefer to bottle up my emotions. It is safer that way. People used to coax me to let it out, claiming they can understand, they can handle it. They don't and they can't. In the end, they just conveniently brush me off. And I'm thrashing more violently than ever with all those emotions that has ran amok.

I hate to complain. Coming from a comfortable middle class family, people constantly expecting me to whine at every vexations. Truth is, I don't have that right. The image of individuals facing a more challenging situation always throw me back. It felt as if someone is shaming and lashing at my face, and soon I'm pushed in deeper into my shell. 

Sometimes, I felt as if I don't have the right to be myself. I'm just being consumed slowly by an unknown that has known me so well.

Ph: Julius Kensan

"There in the midst of it,
 so alive and alone.
 Words support like bone."


 Fever Ray, Mercy Street.

Bad Desire

I think too much. And that is something that i can't deny.

I'm sure i'm going through a bout of depression these days and always tend to wallow in self-pity. Yet, when i heard stories of someone else who is struggling through a disease or in a dire situation, i felt as if what i have was just a small piece of cake.

Like a slap in my face. Trying to wake myself up. Telling myself to put my empathy on others.

Why? Why do i need to do that when i don't want to?

I'm tired. I take time. Whenever i'm in my room, i'm feeling various of emotions. I'm angry, i'm bitter, i'm sad, i'm optimistic, i'm disgusted. All these just molded into a ball of massive energy and exploded into a black hole, sucking away everything that i have in me.

Leaving me emotionless, hollow without a single purpose.

Now, can they, who read this, be empathetic with me instead?

Ph: Steven Klein

"I am a hunger ready to eat.

And i can't tell you why.

I had this urge

to die."

The Knife, I Just Had To Die.

Feathers and Down

I wonder what it feels like to be a thief.

To steal their hearts away and pour it with my own blood.

They will fall into sleep and i'll be in their mind... If only i could...

It seems that most of my friends are just like me during this past month, our emotions headed straight south together with the economy.

Miffra is uneasy,
Matt's heart is heavy,
Angela declared she's living in deceit
and many more whom i wish i could list.

I wish my arms were wider so i could hide them all away; Allowing them to heal before releasing them into reality. And i'm here, struggling not to think about that face whom i might not have the chance to see.


"To think i might not see those eyes,
makes it so hard not to cry.
As we say our long goodbye,
i nearly do."

Snow Patrol, Run