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Ðề tài: Lurid Sky

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    Default Lurid Sky

    [

    "I passed the fork road, and still the road I was supposed to walk on is nowhere to be found."




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




    I said it once, and I'll say over and over again.

    This world is round. Life is a loop.
    In a circle they run, overlapped as they do.
    That's why, contradictions will always be born.





    Contrast reflects contrast.
    Colors suppress colors.
    Like a web, tangled all together.
    One day it might be black, and the next would be white.
    No constant. No certainty. It changes everyday.
    What is "it"?
    Who knows. It's different for everyone.
    To me, it resembles a lurid sky.



    .


    What people call irony, is probably just a funny way to call a bad taste contradiction. For example, people always say "don't give up. Keep moving forward." But, to give up is to move on, isn't it?

    In order to move on, you need to give up your weakness. In order to move on, you need to give up on a part of yourself. In other words, it's the so-called "sacrifice." To gain something, you need to give up on something else. Moving forward isn't just a simple act of walking ahead, is it? Surely. So, encouraging someone to give up is half making sense and half not to me. Rather than telling me "not to give up," I'd rather them to just come up and say "get rid of your weakness."

    I hate pain. It hurts to be rejected. It hurts to hear the truth, but I prefer them over lies, fake courtesy, and dishonesty. They are also hard to be found nowadays, especially with all the deceptions going around.

    But, it's naive to rely people's honestly, so I tried to learn, learn about people. "Learn from your experience." Wasn't there such a saying somewhere? I think it's rather true, except for when it comes to humans. Hundreds and thousands, I hurt people, and I got hurt by people. Despite that, I still can't say I learned anything at all, or rather, the thing I learned wasn't what I wanted to learn. From all those encounters, the only thing that true is - people's natures aren't to be relied on. In other words, people are to be fear. However, somewhere inside, I rejected that kind of thinking and so, got stuck in between.

    People always want to know something, more or less in different degrees. But, I wonder how many are prepared to learn something they don't want to know, along with the things they want to.

    Today, I thought about her.

    Normally, I don't allow myself to hung up on something for long. Why? Because I'm lazy, and it's tiring to do so. And yet, since that day, that question has been on my mind. Why, or rather, How did she die?

    Whenever someone asked me "Why did she die?" I was struck speechless, every single time. To this day, I still don't know, although I remember it clearly, every words the staff said. And yet, I didn't understand them, not one word. I hated myself for it, my uselessness, my ignorance. Maybe it was on a whim, maybe it was subconscious, what I chose to do resulting in me learning more about the answer. The more I learned, the more I just wanted to yell out "Shut Up! Please just shut up!" But I can't avert my eyes.

    What do I intend to do once I learn the whole truth? I ask myself, and the answer is - Nothing.

    For the most part, it wasn't such a big deal to anyone else. They either went with "Oh, okay," or "It's not that. It's someone's fault," and blame it a person of their choices. As for me, I don't even know why I started to learn about it in the first place. Probably just my ego. Or a wishful thinking, hoping that I will be able to get rid of this bitter feeling someday by doing so.

    Such naivety. I laughed at myself. It seems that time only added number onto my age, because I don't seem to get wiser. If there's anything changed, it's probably my point of view about the world. 10, 13, 17, 19, 21, 23, 25. Through all the ages, something about me remains unchanged, and something keeps changing. I guess the most recent realization is - I learned things as I live, but the things I haven't learned are as many as stars, so don't get cocky and look down on people. No matter how much I think I've learned, I'm still a naive child, pretending to be an adult from time to time.

    A lost child, maybe.


    ------



    Somehow this song suit my mood

    thay đổi nội dung bởi: ...Meme..., 30-11-2016 lúc 04:18 PM


    If there's any word I can use to describe my thoughts, it's "foolosophy."

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    Disgusting and Disgusted. That's about to sum up my feeling right now.

    .

    I was never meant to be a good person, and I'm fine with that. However, for the sake of my own ego, I have a fixed set of principles that I won't allow myself to trespass and violate.

    Today I did.

    Thinking that another human being is "disgusting," was one of the thing I forbid myself to do. Even if it's just thinking, when you think that someone is "disgusting," don't you feel disgusted with yourself?

    I do.

    It was the first time I pushed someone expression of gratitude away so vehemently. The feeling of where she touched, even through the clothes, was like thousand of fleas crawling on my skin. All the way home, that feeling kept etching deeper and deeper, as if those thousands fleas were sucking my blood. There's no other way to put it - It was disgusting. I feel disgusted with myself for even feeling so, but I can't deny it.

    Money was never an issue. I could tell clearly she was a drug addict. Homeless and a beggar, it wasn't the first time she begged for money from me. She didn't remember me, but I remember her. The excuses she made, the fake sad expression on her face didn't touch me at all. The only sincere word in that bunch of nonsense was "Please." But "please" isn't a magic word, at best, it's just a tool to achieve one's desire by appealing to others' sympathy. Whether that desire is a good or bad thing is whole different story. To me, that "desire" of her isn't something I want to make recognized. That's why I didn't want to give her any money. Yet, I did. It wasn't out of kindness of any kind. She was being annoying, so it was just to get rid of her, just an act of cowardice. My competence in dealing with people is close to zero. I hate myself for it. And I hate her for made me felt like that. What can I say. Once a coward, always a coward. In the end, I'm no different from the people I despised.

    It was so early in the morning too, haaaa.....My first encounter of the day left such a bad after taste. Today mood really fit the sky it brought, so gray and gloomy. But, I don't hate it.




    If there's any word I can use to describe my thoughts, it's "foolosophy."

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    Wow, wow, wow. Can't believe the music topic I created still at the front page even though the last entry was like, what, 5 years ago ? Seems like no one is there anymore. All the old songs I posted before through Nhaccuatui are useless now, kinda make me want to delete them all and start anew, but I'm kinda in a good mood so...oh well *shrug*. I'll just use this topic for everything from now on.

    3 hours left until hw is due and this is what I'm doing, serve me right to wait until the last minute to cram them all in . But honestly, never once did I believe I wouldn't be able to turn them in on time. Let's face it, if it's just for the sake of good grade, to deal with teacher's hw, and not actual learning, it's an easy task. 10 hours of serious study can turn into 3, just like that.


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





    thay đổi nội dung bởi: ...Meme..., 01-12-2016 lúc 09:17 PM


    If there's any word I can use to describe my thoughts, it's "foolosophy."

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    This story was written quite some time ago, it was such a mess back then. It's a still a mess now, but not as messy as before I guess?

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

    The Puppeteer



    -----------


    A Puppeteer traveled across the world, bringing along his worn-out suitcase as sole companion. Wherever he went, his shows were welcomed and attracted attentions. His stories enchanted people, but it was his incredibly exquisite and beautifully made puppets that enticed them to him. He traveled from town to town, never settled down anywhere, and never came back to any towns he had left. It was on that journey that one day, the Puppeteer set foot in a run-down, desolated village.



    “Mr. Puppeteer, will you tell us a story today?” said a poor village boy in tattered clothes, other children started to gather and begged also.

    “Alright,” said the Puppeteer as he opened his suitcase. “The story today is about a princess who was said to be the most beautiful in a far, far away kingdom.…

    The Puppeteer began to speak. The story had started.

    The Princess committed an unforgivable sin: she fell in love with a servant. When the King found out, he was enraged.He imprisoned the princess and intended to execute the Servant, but he had managed to escape. Before making his run, the poor lover told the princess to wait because he would definitely come back for her."

    The two puppets resembled a princess and a servant embraced each other and then parted ways.

    "Without any other words exchanged,time went from days, to weeks, to months. Then, the Princess was engaged to the neighbor prince against her will. But just when the wedding was drawing near,and Princess’s tears were running out, her beloved returned and took her away.They ran, through mountains and forests, to a place where no one could separate them. There they made another vow and lived happily ever after.

    The show ended with the Princess and the Servant holding one another. Applause and cheers roared up and prolonged for a while before the crowd began to disperse. The sun was setting in the far horizon, and the poor boy knew it was time for him to go back.

    Dragging his feet home, he was greeted by the smell of cheap alcohol and a slap that knocked him down onto the ground. The noises from shouts, cries, and screams rang through the air, however, on the street, there was only silence still. The small village was quiet without any humans’ movements or sounds. No one was surprised by the noises as the villagers had gotten used to it and turned their eyes away. When the big man who he calls father got tired from beating him, the young boy’s body was covered in blood and bruises. In the corner of the house, his sick mother was crawling on the ground, still sobbing and begging her husband to stop. It was a familiar scene, a routine activity he had gotten too used to.

    “It can’t be helped,” he thought to himself as a way to ease his pain, to make himself stay sane. Even so, he knew it was nothing but a wicked lie, a poisoned needle that stabbed into his heart and gradually drove him insane. He wanted to end it all, the daily routine, his useless self, along with all the pains and sufferings. He wanted to be free.

    After helping his mother into bed,he ran out the back alley and cried out, “Miracle doesn’t exist!!! IT DOES NOT EXIST!!!!!!!!”

    He screamed to the sky, wishing it would carry the echo of the inevitable truth in his words away. He screamed,and screamed in agony, until his throat reached its limit and no sound louder than a whisper could come out. He didn’t care/ He continued to scream.He could scream all night, until he coughed up blood, until his throat exploded for all he cared, he would still scream.

    “Poor boy….do you think it’s unfair?” said the Puppeteer who just appeared out of the shadow.

    The Boy didn’t answer, only sorrow and hatred were conveyed in his eyes. The Puppeteer watched him in silent, then pulled out two puppets from his suitcase: the Princess and the Servant.

    “Shall I tell you another story?”

    “Why?”

    The question went unanswered as the puppets started moving, and the story was recited.

    In a far, far away land, there lived a puppet princess whose whole existence was bind by strings called ‘duty,’ ‘righteousness,’ and ‘loyalty.’ The string called ‘loyalty’ was controlled by her delusion and pride. The string called ‘righteousness’ was controlled by her naivety and ignorance. And finally, the string called ‘duty’ was controlled by the King, the Queen, and her people.

    Without knowing anything, she lived a blissful life, believing she was free. Then, something unexpected occurred: she fell in love with a servant. This so-called love severed the ‘loyalty’ string and replaced it with ‘dream,’ a string made from desires and wishes. And while being controlled by the 'dream' string, she believed that was happiness.

    Little did the Princess know, the Servant was also controlled by strings called ‘hypocrisy’ and ‘hatred’. These strings that made him play the role of being her nemesis. But the King found out about his role and locked up the Princess. The Servant had to flee for his life, but he swore he would comeback.

    The King wanted to married the Princess to another country for her safety, but on the wedding day, the former servant managed to kidnap her. The Princess cried when she saw him, but contrary to the naive Princess's tears of joy, his joy of reuniting with her was not based on love. He brought her into the deep forest. There, he cut off her legs’ tendons to prevent her from running away. Then, as the once beloved person, he revealed the whole truth to the Princess, his fake love for her, his hatred for her and her country, as his knife slowly thrust into her heart. When the Princess finally heaved her last breathe, the Servant left her corpse to wild animal and went back to his hideout.

    However, it was said that “humans don’t know by what strings they are being controlled.” In the Servant’s case,it was the string named ‘feelings.’ After spending many sleepless nights haunted by the princess’s images in his dreams, he went back to the same forest where her corpse was left. From then on, no one ever saw him again. It might have been guilt, it might have been love, but no doubt, it was the unknown string made him dance in its hand and made him vanished.


    The show ended with two puppets being stabbed by knives and fell onto the ground. The air around them seemed to be distorted and wrapped in darkness. In their beautiful crystal eyes, only abysses where no hopes and wishes existed was reflected. The whole time, the Boy watched the puppets fell with clouded eyes, and finally, he smiled.

    “Am I…like those puppets?”

    The Puppeteer didn’t reply, but in his eyes, there was a spark of a hidden laughter.

    “I wonder….if I will ever find my freedom…”

    “I don’t know – the Puppeteer stepped one step closer to the Boy and crouched down to look at him – In my dictionary, there’s no such word as ‘freedom.’ Nothing comes for free, and no one is truly free. You will always be bound something. No matter how hard you struggle, in the end, you have no choice but to accept that something and see as happiness. A lie, yes, but at least it's a lie of your choice."

    "Then why?" - The Boy slammed his fist on the ground - "Why am I in so much pain?" - He spoke in tear choked voice.

    "What a spoiled child," - The Puppeteers gently patted his head - "That's what happened when you refused to accept your lie. You only need to bear with it for a few years until that man died and then you can have the kind of happiness you yearn for you know. Why torment yourself like this?"

    "I hate it. This life. Him. My weak mother. This village. This world. Myself. Everything. I hate them all" - His voice, more than being darken with hatred, was filled with tears - "No matter how hard I tried to tell myself to stop, I couldn't. No matter how much I smiled at others, in my heart, it was the opposite, I hated them, so much that I just wanted to rip them apart. And the worst part is, I love this feeling. I love hating everything. I don't know why I love it, but I know I will never be able to forget it. I want to be free from it, but I know I never will. I hate it, but I love it. I'm scared. Will I disappear just like this? Please tell me, can someone save me? I want to be free."

    "Child, no one is truly free" - The Puppeteer said coldly - "But, you already know, don't know? And how to make that feeling in you disappear, don't you already know?"

    The Boy, who had hid his face in the dark, for the first time lifted his head and looked at the Puppeteer's eyes.

    "Then, what the hell are you here for? Why did you tell me that story? Why did you come?"

    "To relieve you from your loneliness," - the look in the Puppeteer's eyes were kind, so kind and compassionate that it drown out the coldness in his voice - "A part of you, your life and your story, I will take them with me. I won't let you disappear and be forgotten. Just like how I told the story about the Princess and the Servant to you today, one day, in a far away land, I will tell your story. People will gather and listen. As long as I live, I will never let your story be forgotten."

    For a long time, the Boy remained silent, he looked lost and confused. But then, as if everything was sorted out, his eyes, which was clouded by darkness until then, suddenly glistened with a glimpse of hope.

    “Then one day, you will you tell my story?”

    “I probably will. But every story needs an ending, you know” - the Puppeteer replied with an indiscernible smile.


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


    That night, in the desolated and gray village, there were screams of terror, wailing of despair, and sound of fires sparks soar through the sky; they penetrated the thick reddish clouds and touched the dark moon above. That forgotten land was lit up, while everything amidst it was burning down. The Boy watched it all, and couldn’t help but laughed out loud. There was so much despair, that he couldn't do anything but laugh. The laughing kept echoing as he stood alone, surrounded by red color. In his hands, the knife dripping blood slowly slipped away. The small village was engulfed in flame; it had never gotten this bright and lively, and yet, there were still no humans’ movements and sounds.

    "Where did all the villagers go, I wonder?" - The Boy thought to himself as he gazed at the dark, dark sky.

    Ahhhh, that's right. They're busy being a part of this crimson festival.


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

    The Puppeteer quietly left the pitiful village. Holding in his hand is the worn-out suitcase that contained a new puppet. A puppet that shaped like a young boy in tattered clothes and possessed a pair of sorrowful eyes. Like all other puppets, it was lovely and beautiful, a bewitched beauty. And someday, somewhere, his story might be told.

    As the Puppeteer thought about his new puppet, he looked back at the village now consumed by red flame, and let out a tiny chuckle as he muttered quietly.

    We’re like puppets with no soul;tighten by strings in many directions, dancing in a show called ‘Life’ with no expressions.

    We dance, but it’s not us who lift our hands.

    We act, but it’s not us who pick our parts.

    We are bound and controlled, so we seek for freedom.

    Although freedom is just another set of strings, we just can’t stop yearning for it.

    How marvelous. How pitiful. What an enigma existence we are.



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

    End.


    If there's any word I can use to describe my thoughts, it's "foolosophy."

  5. #5
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    Default First Snow of The Year

    Woke up at 6am, my eyes refused to comply to my wish, must be the result of staying up until 2 hours ago.

    It was colder than usual today, I think I know why. Since last year, I haven’t been using the heater much, the heat makes my throat and nose dry. On the other hand, it’s simply bliss to wear a warm pajama and wrap yourself up in a blanket. The coziness is incomparable, like a little bear cave during hibernation, hence that’s what I’ve been doing.

    However, the lack of heater wasn’t why it was colder than usual. The air was chilling. The window was foggy. Outside, countless white spots were falling. That’s right. It was snowing!

    Then again, the cold air wasn’t why I know it was snowing. I saw it on the weather forecast yesterday night.

    10 minutes to drag myself up. 10 minutes to brush and groom myself. 10 minutes to wander around the room like a ghost and picking clothes. Another 10 minutes to do whatever I was doing but doesn’t remember what. Ah, right, it was to battle with the printer.

    “I hate going to work early in the morning,” the first thing popped into my head as soon as I stepped out of the house, pretty sure I was not the first one saying that. It was pitch black! Dark and snow. Not the ideal conditions I had in mind for driving.

    "Guess I didn't wake up in a world of white,” a small part of me was disappointed. However, the majority was overjoyed. The snow just started to fall not too long ago, so I didn’t have the defroze the car. But then again, it was a little sprinkling this morning, so the snow probably wouldn't be able to pile up. I guess, in a sense, I was lucky to be able to see them at their best. If I didn’t have to go to work, I would have probably be happy about it.

    The radio played a country song, full of sunshine, so contradicted to the snowy song I had been playing in my mind. To wish for something that's not here, is it a natural thing to do? I thought and bursted out laughing.










    ------


    Whenever this season comes, there is a feeling of calmness in the air. At least, that's what I think. Whether that's a good or bad thing, I can't really say. Calm means there's no high energy. If high became calm, then those with low energy might have been taken down a knot further. Maybe that's why the rate of suicide during winter is always higher than others. But no matter, facts are facts, it doesn't affect how I feel. It took me 6 years to realize it. I love it. This season. This town.

    Everything I've dreamed about when I was a child was here, in this small town. I've forgotten all about it, the dream town, the dream house I wished for when I was a child. At first, I was filled with confusion, like "Huh? What was I doing? Why did I forget it? What was I striving for that I was so blinded?" It's a mystery, really. I was so sure of what I was doing. I was sure that was what I wished for. The thing I was striving for, it wasn't wrong, it's what everyone does, but turned out, it just wasn't what I wanted. What I really wanted was a much, much simpler thing, something that had been in front of me all this time.

    I was happy to realize it, but at the same time, it was sad thing to realize. Sometimes, the seemingly simple things are the hardest things to obtain. I guess it's the same for everyone, to get what you want, you need to do what you don't really want. It's not like I'm losing out anything on this anyway, so it's not bad deal.

    Up until now, I've never had a feeling like "love" to a town, a house, or anything of the like. Because separation is sad, I don't want any attachments. More than that, I want to remain impartial to things as best as I can. I'm not sure if that's what I 'want,' or simply just a part of me. But for as long as I could remember, I can't say I have loved a town, a city, or even country.

    Whenever someone said they hated something of this town, or some other things of that city, my brain could understand their reasons, but my mind couldn't comprehend. I mean...seriously, why waste your time hating something like that? It's a waste of emotions. Well, precisely because I didn't carry any spare emotions for that sort of things, therefore, wherever someone dragged me to live in, I was fine. Thoughts such as "I want to live here," "I will never leave this place," have never crossed my mind, until the recent realization of course. Still, no matter how much of a dream town this town is for me, I know the deciding factor doesn't lie within it. Then what, huh....? It's a secret. Too embarrassing to say out loud.

    This fairly cool atmosphere is making me sleepy. Seriously, this snow, this town, this shabby house, this wild garden, this water filled road, these fallen leaves, these barren trees. I really feel like I love them all.



    ——-


    thay đổi nội dung bởi: ...Meme..., 05-12-2016 lúc 06:27 PM


    If there's any word I can use to describe my thoughts, it's "foolosophy."

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    Sometimes, it feels like the world is a place where people just wait for you to screw up once to screw you all over.

    Sometimes, for personal gain. Sometimes, for no particular reason at all.

    It's not like that. I know it's not like that. That's why it just "feels" like so, sometimes.

    ---

    If sorry will cut it, then I'll say it, but you must pardon me for not wanting to go along with your wishes.

    Wasn't it established long ago? Selfish is a trait we all inherited.

    I still look up to you, I just no longer wish to blindly follow your words.

    If there's something I feel apologetic for, it would be my incapability of mincing words where it matters most.

    ---

    Maybe I'm the type who only realize I love something when I lost it.

    Even so, I'll only go "oh well," right after.

    It was true then, and it still is now.

    Because, stubbornness and indifferent are the only ways I know how to reduce and prevent the pain.

    ---

    I always got a lot to say.

    But, to convey them is troublesome and too long-winded.

    So I leave my mind blank and say nonsensical things.



    If there's any word I can use to describe my thoughts, it's "foolosophy."

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    This day, begins like any other day, and would end like any other day.

    Maybe people will find it boring, if the same thing keep repeating day after day.

    Isn't there a phrase "if only boredom could kill" to describe the tiredness of being stuck with the same things everyday?

    But for me, I pray, and pray that these boring days would begin in the same way, and end the same way like any other days.

    People can only stay bored when they have too much peace in their hands. That's why, even if boredom could kill, I wouldn't want it to be replaced by something else.

    Even so, as I made my wish, I knew it wouldn't come true.

    Little by little, things changed. The seemingly unchanging days, were actually moving the world in the direction that cannot be foreseen.

    One day, you may wake and find that the days you thought would never change, were no where to be found anymore.

    That's why, even if it's a lie, even if it'll never come true, I wish that these unchanging days would remain lasting.

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

    One of the weird thing, yet somehow makes sense.

    For some reasons, whenever I wore earrings, I could never keep both of them on for long. Soon, one of them would go missing. No matter how hard I sought, it could never be found. Still, I kept the one that was left on. Time would pass, and that one would also be lost somewhere. Then, and only then, that the first that went missing would turn up again. And once again, only one earring was left on my ear.

    I think it was a little funny. They were meant to be a pair, yet I can only ever wear one of them at a time. It kinda reminds me a bit of how I've always been . Just how much does loneliness love to be my company? I thought and laughed out loud.
    [/font][/size]
    thay đổi nội dung bởi: ...Meme..., 22-12-2016 lúc 08:11 PM


    If there's any word I can use to describe my thoughts, it's "foolosophy."

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    Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, May happiness be yours this year too.

    Haaaaa.....I'm really not in the mood to talk. Compared to the bored feeling I've felt the whole day though, this is definitely better. In the middle of celebrating atmosphere, I don't particularly want to join in the conversation, but I do love being the feeling of being with family on this day. I wonder if this is considered as selfish. Yeah, it probably is. After all, these moments won't come back or last forever.


    If there's any word I can use to describe my thoughts, it's "foolosophy."

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