ah bugger it.

i guess this wont end well indeed.
the things i do just dont end right at all.

never, really.
and theres nothing thats any sort of counter explanation for that.

no one's telling me anything.
nope.

and somehow, all too much inadequacies where i sit on.
too much.

the flatulent being that i am, predisposition and postposition of false position and being the wrong thing and every time, irregardless of the situation.
and this stabbing motion right here? its the tutorial to the first part of the game.

maybe i should get myself hurt more, so i understand all this.

3.

2.
1.
Go.

two dimes in a finger food company, and the less of a penny you have,
the less pasta you need to last a day./
no, its something we havent done for a long time,
yet its still something like a seizure of your third aunts sister twice removed.
and then the little things that dont really matter anymore,
and the less ways other things matter to you.

you want to look at it from any way possible, but you realise that there really isnt any other perspective. and you live your life like its 2D.
or just a point.

which i lack in this state of mind. but hey, singapore is a state in itself.
a state, please save it, like an interrupt, and then when the whole interrupt recovery system and algorithm is over, restore my spirit, and repair my soul.

soulless shell of of the unknown way of doing what i do and things that i dont really think of anymore. its just salty on my tongue and the next time i want to get all these, please stop me, and tell me what happens all the time.

all the time. Age. the art of working through time and getting your dues paid. and then buy some sort of respite from which you are able to breathe through your skin. or maybe through an exposed orifice, artificial or otherwise, from the front of your neck. from you neck, what the heck.

ten times the richer, none the better and no way, youre never going to get better if you keep doing this, how will you get great if nothing ever works this way, and nothing much will ever help you in the times of desert.

Someone would need a dessert when it comes to a pack time as such, and the air that surrounds me is taking the flavour out of my skin. the flavour out of my eyes. and the pupils that i do not teach, dilate until they cramp up and the other tendon snaps.

cramp and snap, the way one runs down the road in time for catching a bus that is long gone 2 stops away. too bad for you. to have seen this coming and still want to worry about all that happening. What is there to do. what is there to be done now that the hurricane turricane has sped past and eats up the next few sentences of your head. head. Head.

A head, ahead. not even in front, and you shall soon see that what i am typing would make sense after awhile.

after all,
the cake has already been taken.

i guess i never expect anyone to read this. but if you do come across this, and find all these musings somewhat disturbing, i beg you not to be alarmed. maybe its just a space to come to when in need. maybe its just a respite, a corner for some self-reflection. maybe i think i would like to remember how messed up i was, in the future. maybe i could teach someone something.

please dont take any of this to heart, you, me, or anyone in the future who reads this.

Thanks for commenting, if any =)

God bless, and have a nice day.

Once again.

the day is saved. where a place where no one will read would finally be updated. nothing of a good thing, if youve been following but i dont know much about myself at all. Mono-type defeciency and the lack of sanity, and i think im a fifteen-faced creep with nothing to do in the future. i will become senile and wonder why everyone is somewhere else. not here.

because i never was to be.

it makes things worse when i apply my hand, and i think i would make a horrible teacher, for everyone would fail. i could never do medicine, for a multitude of diseases would spawn by my hand. engineering would be the bane of a thousand thousand, and anything to do with applied science would cause catastrophic anomaly.

i see a complex number, and it looks much prettier than my predicament.

i have to live with me.

nothing good. nothing good.
God im sorry.

it seems that the more i do, the less i achieve, and as such, i seem to have been doing alot, although this is counterproductive to anything i seem to say. think higher. if i think i do what i think i do, then i do what i think i would do, thinking that what i do would cause what i think to do, think. and when i do it, i think i do what i do. And when i do it.
it'll fall apart.

i dont know. maybe its the mirror talking. but i dont care. i dont care anymore. i dont care. i dont care. i dont care. i dont care. i dont care.

constant mess ups and a mouth that spits acid.
acid tongue.

catch my own tongue and burn my hand, leave a mark for the future Pan,
slay the dragon, feed the soul, burn another, creep and troll.
bleed through my eyes, and festering pain, nothing i can do, curse of cain.
twas twilight that highlighted my folly, puppetmaster, i am another dolly.

nothing good can come of me. nothing good. i apologise to my parents.

=======================================

so it seems when you conclude that things are in your stride, that the very strides you tread are those that cause the ripple, then so id think id stop walking, for the greater good. not that im any good in the first place.
Onward (everyone else.)

hold me close. to the fire.
i need to molt. bolt. volt.
death and rebirth. and death.
deaf. in the land of the deaf, the ear trumpet is king.

whirlpool. in my nose. and going up to my brain. or now lack of.

i guess i havent been much good for anything lately.
always seeming crabby and all that.
well.
i didnt think so either.

=================

cannot. cannot. cannot.
cannot. cannot. cannot.
cannot. cannot. carrot.

9x9x9x9x9x9x9x9x9x9x9x9 = far too much to count with my fingers.

i aggravate and agitate, i weaken and despond.
i confuse and terrorise, i break and destroy.

learn the enemy who is within yourself.
just that, i dont know.

im afraid it'll hurt less and less.
it cant come to that.

it cannot.

the more it hurts. the better.

how apt. i remember it was one of those days close to children's day. Again.
well. brainwave for you.

i havent been here for a while now.

But no, its nothing that bad here this time.





nah.
i guess its just one of those moods i cant put my mouth to.

Thank you lord.

i think id rather be speechless and happy then to have too many words and torn up.

for now, thank you lord.

<3

Hello.

Hello. its me again.

and is it a full moon already? i dont know.

hahaha. but oh what the heck, i think my eniire system is out of whack.

and i guess when you see me here, youd think id have something wrong to say.

Well. i guess i do.

Now.

======================

me being so useless is very taxing.

no, not for me. i dont care about me. im talking about the people around me. im sure me not being able to do anything is very irritating, it being very ineffecient, and very unusable. i dont mind if you tell me off, and i dont mind if you dont give a shit. its just like the movies, where they come about face. and im just sitting here making myself all worked up. why? because i have reason to believe its getting hard for you. i dont know, i really dont know what you think when you look into eyes. i am insecure in a way that makes my heart tingle with a excitement that the future might actually be catching up with me, that my blessings are finally numerated, numbered and finite. its nice that youre nice to me, making me feel as if i can actually make something/someone feel good/better when something so wrong is happening, even though i am not even in the loop and find out when its way too late. i think you would probably find it sickening for me to just look at you. maybe. allergic to me.

open fire.

haha. its interesting how what i expect, would turn out that way, even though what i expect would generally swing towards something that wouldnt make it... and upcurve. please do dismiss this as some awful rambling of a tired mind, but i dont know what id do if i wasnt doing this. id just probably tear myself apart tonight and put myself back together when the sun rises. what? Patchwork Zombie? Maybe. Clockwork, of course. its nice the way youre so nice to me that i actually percieve myself as being able to help sometimes. but when it comes to call, and the day has ended, i think back. And i guess, i am foolish once again.

let none live.

state your reason for cushioning my fall. do you need a reason? dont. let me fall, let me crash, let me burn. be unsympathetic. be careless. be a worst nightmare. at least i know that something works, or something doesnt. if you dont like it, tell me. do not sugar coat it. do not care about me. do not give a shit. i dont know. please tell me. please get all mad and tell me that i pester you. please. stick my head into an enema, for all i care. but then, i dont care. i dont. because i dont know, and im stupid enough.

give thanks.

its been a great time, and i guess people would normally wonder if there was such a thing as a honey-moon period. but what i feel, is that people can only take so much of me. Is Your Limit Coming? let me know when it is. at least, its some sort of affirmation. a confirmation that the future is catching up to me. and then i am screaming into my own ears from inside. cannonball walking through my intestines and ripping my heart like heartburn on a shopping spree. Cough me. i dont know any more. i dont know any more. i guess i dont really have a concrete example that i can use on myself to make me still, and/or keep my mouth shut anymore.

insert template here.

its getting late. and im getting all crazy wondering what the fuck i am.
this is not saving grace.

i dont have any, at the moment.

=Ass.=
not you. Me. not you. Us.

i am too weak.
i am too weird.
i am too useless.
i am too much of a loser.
i am too predictable.
i am too soft.
i am too lousy.

i cant do this alone anymore.

im sorry im not what you want.

dont force yourself to do anything.
dont force yourself.

im not going to hurt you anymore.

i dont know anymore.
i dont know anymore.
i dont know anymore.

i dont want to do this alone.
but i dont know anymore.
i dont know anymore.
i dont know anymore.
i dont know anymore.
i dont know anymore.
i dont know anymore.
i dont know anymore.
i dont know anymore.
i dont know anymore.
i dont know anymore.
i dont know anymore.
i dont know anymore.
i dont know anymore.
i dont know anymore.


i need you more than you know.
and im under the ground.

i miss you.
and thinking of you makes me think more.
that im all messed up, and cant do no shit about it.




save me.

Apologies

im sorry its been so much crap up here.

it really doesnt match the meaning of the url.

apologies, if theyre ever enough.

what am i.

DONT FUCKEN CARE PLS.

ugh.

yea, maybe this beautiful creation is where i let loose my wildest demons.

i tear myself up over things like these.

the stupid words i say
the mean things i appear to mean.
my imperfections
and me.

im not enough, dont say i am.
im not loving enough, dont say i am.

dont say you love me, im not worth that.
dont say you miss me, i dont think theres anything in here worth missing.

body spasm, kill yourself worthy,
UNworthy spit of demon plague and what not.

i am no poet, and i am no lover.
i am inhuman and i cannot see.

i am fucken crazy.
dnt fucken kare plse.

im useless, because i am me.
its not fatalism,
its revelation.

why do i do this.
why do i sting my heart and soul like this.
why does it happen so often.

is it something as simple as a moodswing
or are i cooperative schizophrenia
that gets mad and takes turns.

i get like this when i fail someone
i get like this when i am inadequate
i get like this when there is no one to tell this to
i get like this when i am alone.
i get like this when i am in the dark, with the music.
i get like this when i am unneeded.
i get like this, when i am fucken fucked with my fucking self.

am i angry
am i sad?
am i emo
am i futile
am i missing someone
am i lonely
am i despondent
am i pretending?
am i being stupid
am i being silly
am i exhibiting terrorism
am i breaking down
am i tired
am i unhappy
am i sadistic
am i masochistic
am i problematic
am i difficult
am i negative
am i pessimistic
am i evil
am i longing
am i addicted
am i pained
am i scornful
am i jealous
am i selfish
am i idiotic
am i justified
am i playing
am i apologetic
am i unlevel-headed
am i lacking
am i aggressive
am i protesting
am i muderous
am i schizophrenic
am i sober
am i drunk
am i crazy
am i Going Crazy?
am i uncontent
am i a knife to my own neck
am i my worst nightmare
am i caffinated
am i sick
am i deathbed ready
am i disillusioned
am i disenlightened
am i loving too little
am i loving too much
am i immature
am i fucked up
am i not thinking enough
am i thinking more than needed
am i unnecessary
am i redundant
am i blind
am i deaf
am i mute
am i pus-filled, ulcer-laden
am i disgusting
am i horrible
am i salty
am i worthless
am i dead
am i not going to respawn
am i resigned to my fate
am i love-struck
am i bee-stung
am i poor
am i spending too much
am i too miserly


am i ...

am i lost?

i think i am.

give the deathstar a life.

here we go again.

i guess. its me after all.

i couldnt quarrel. id just try to stop.

ill just sit here till i melt down i guess.

im tempted to use the U word.

Useless.