Monday, August 3, 2009

You dont.

You don't have to.
You wont have to know.
You dont have to worry.
You cant be me.
Maybe that's the good part.
But you wont be me.
You dont have to scream when no ones listening.
You dont have to think thoughts because of someone else's shortcoming.
You dont have to feel how caged up I've been.
You dont have to go back to my years at my age at this time to feel how I feel.
You cant trip like I trip cause when you fall you fell, I got up.
You dont have itch and you dont have cuts.
You dont need to recover and you dont need to keep bleeding.
You are clueless and dont know you are weaker.
You fail to see you are wrong, though the pair of eyes you know you are blind.
You fail to see you are weaker.
You fail to see that money is not everything although it seems like everything.
You fail to see your years of planning may fail like how you will.
You fail to perform the role you are given, you are centred and selfless.
You do what you think is right but your right is half wrong.
You act as if you know a lot in fact people around are too shock to correct you, again and again.

You dont know, you just judge while your judgement's unsound.
You can't trust cause you cant trust yourself.
You are political and politics just gets to you because you think you were the player but the rest plays you.
You point the finger but when you alone you see the fingers pointing back.
You hide behind a mask which reveals you.

You are alwasy something less and nothing more.


"Sometimes we seem to see hate more than love as we have that haunting confusion between both."
The leader in obivious ways but he is scared and humbled away when the truth arise one day. He fed the rich and abandon the poor, he taught the blind to walk and he helped the lame to see. Nothing more than it seems, as how contradicing life can be. To seek that path still in search to be enlighten by our very ownself and to forget knowing the rest.

About Me

Singapore, Serangoon Gardens.
I wouldnt say I'm that much of a simple guy who lives down the street with little motives running through his head, cause that wouldnt be me neither would it be that simple. Like most and all others, a man who transits between his faith, hopes and downs back to reality where either or neither both be found. If I was to state me as simple, then it places my aims to the test. Defying the oughts of nothing but the simple truth, sad and drown, torn yet driven to find out why and the reason he was brought here in aid to comprehend his fingerprints and the complex map as if a form of hardcore tattoo arcoss his palm printed; he urges his story to unfold, crushes the young chapters but alike an innocent kid, places it under his pillow. What will you do if you came back to life and held the object and subject who killed you? To meet and yet be part of the director of this enticing thriller yet dramatic plot of my life.