Long and draggy.

You can run but you can't hide, junior.

I suspect that running is worse than hiding. When you go into hiding, into hibernation, having the mistaken idea that you are safe. You start to see the commotion outside, believing that everything will die down soon, but it doesn't. Eventually you are found. By who? Probably God. Most definitely, God.

Running. Its more than putting one foot in front of the other. Its more than speeding up, pumping effort. What for? The adrenaline leaves your mouth dry. Your voice cracked with emotions. How do you run from yourself? You can run. But you can't hide. Junior.

I am moving on. Right now, here then. Yeah maybe I get a tad bit frustrated some times. Alright, most of the time. Well, unanswered question gives me angst. It gives me this unsettled feeling that keep me up all night. I love sleep, don't get me wrong. The "keep me up all night" was just a figurative speech.

When everything is wrong, well, God will correct everything to what he thinks is right, and most often, that sucks. Simply cause it's not what we want. At the end of the day, when the flame is extinguished, we agree to disagree. And even if laughter is a bitter medicine, coerced down your constricted throat, it heals. It burns back feeling into you. A shimmer of hope and the bitter taste of life. It fires something like courage.

Laughing is contagious is an understatement. Laughing or smiling in fact comes from within yourself. You choose.

The truth hurts and its more cruel than any other lie, I know. They say it will set you free. They said... responsibility. We are responsible for the truth of our lives. Besides we live in a grey world. These matters are bound to happen, to me, to anybody. Move on. I mean, its useless to dwell at the periphery of this shit any longer.

When people ask a casual question; “How are you?” You are expected to answer it short and sweet. Even if the weight of the whole world is upon your shoulders, you are suppose to contort all the emotions into this one word; “fine”. Why do I say that? They don’t care. They would not want to know about how your teacher berated you for something you did not do. People go about the routine, just like us, when we say that we are fine.

We are all liars, and I am not even lying.

I suspect that “Are you okay?” is one of the most awkward and forthcoming question. I guess no one will ever say that they are not okay. People lie. No matter how badly they want to say that they are doing bad, they can’t, well at least not to this question. Maybe, “What’s going on?” or “You look sad, what happened?” This probably probe them on to speak what already is on their mind.

I think revenge, only sets your whole life on fire. It burns down the things that matters, things that you have affection for, soft things like love. Because all this is considered to be weak, to be fragile - able to shatter your life. The only thing left is the cold stainless steel. Where people draw their strength from for revenge. I would like to call it the evil drive, intentions whatever.

It brings out the bad. The ugliness of it all when it is revealed, would reside in the facial features. Cold and hard. Everything is ruined and destroyed, theres no warmth, no glow of satisfaction. All that is left is one defining feature of revenge, and that is hatred. And when that raging fire dies down, your whole life is reduced into ash. When you realize the fire that once so passionately roar through the passage of your life is gone, how are you going to continue living?

We are just tiny creatures infiltrating the World. Who are we to judge? Who are we to define normality? Its the nasty things that define society, that makes us see who we truly are. Its the author's intention of a literature book, the subtle criticism through whispers, the signs. The blurry visions of each life, leads me into a conclusion. Society is pretentious.

"A bird was flying in a storm. It was cold and miserable. It fell into a pile of manure. It thought, wow, this is nice and warm. Then a cat came and pulled the bird out of the manure and ate it. Moral of the story: Not all shit is bad, and not everything that pulls you out of shit is good."

Tears threatened my pride.

The eyes are merely reflection of what your tears can bring.

Tonight's moon was just plain beautiful. I could have admired it a little longer, but was too tired. I guess we can say the same about life. Life itself is beautiful. However not fair, we can't argue that life is ugly. It has it's quirks and mysteries - gateway to the unknown. Probably this is what appeals to me.

Then it sets itself on you, making it a personal agenda to get you down. It just thrwart you back into the unexpected, even if you are unprepared. No time, no leeway to even ponder. You just get so fed up with life, so tired, you begin to neglect the beauty of it all. And thats when you give up.

Thats life for you.

And even if I cried a thousand tears tonight
Would you come back to me
And even if I walked on the water
Would you come out to sea

Now I am just grateful that I am not affected anymore.