April 26, 2012


            Hauntingly beautiful, heartwarming and seemingly everlasting: Our lives are littered with such moments. However, even among those moments, there are those that are so beautiful and magical, it’s hard to believe in their reality. Transient and yet, eternal, they feel like an unreal dream that never seizes to stop and yet somehow is never enough to satisfy us to our heart’s content. But at the end of the day, the only reason they are called moments is because they don’t last very long. Sad…
            I once read somewhere that “Life is not made up of minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, or years, but of moments. You must experience each one before you can appreciate it.” I believe I now find myself in the proper disposition to not only understand the meaning of this statement but also to acknowledge the ineffable beauty of these moments that make up our lives.
            That’s about all that inhabits my mind at this moment. My thoughts remind me of a certain quote by a famous American poet, novelist and story writer named Charles Bukowski. He once said, “Some moments are nice; some are nicer; some are even worth writing about.” For me, this was certainly one of those moments.

April 15, 2012


It feels like ages since I have tried writing anything at all. Didn’t think I want to write again. But here I am again, writing; or at least trying. I want to share a story today. Let’s see now. How does it begin?
     Ah yes, it was some time ago. There was a child. He was cold and emotionless. No feelings at all for most people around him. He didn’t make a lot of bonds. Neither did he care about them.
     As he grew older, he got colder and almost changed to an in recognizable person. He held on to his ideologies of being alone and not caring about the world. As days went by, he decided that these bonds were holding him back and began to sever them.
     He continued walking that path until ….

January 23, 2012


Contemplating on life, I guess it’s safe to say that there probably isn't much meaning to it. Perhaps, one can find something interesting to do while they are still alive. Well, I sort of have a goal too. It’s a little different than it used to be and if I were to state it in words, I like to see things moving. I get bored if things don't move. A windmill that is not moving can be nice from time to time, but most of the time, it's not even worth looking at.
      Do I sound a little strange; a little distraught even? Perhaps I am. I have been feeling rather different as of late. Maybe it’s simply because my level of patience and tolerance for the ignorance of the simpletons who surround me has finally boiled over the edge, along with the hatred I harbor for them. I am no longer the same person I used to be. There’s a new look in my eyes and I am much, much colder than I used to be.
      Being treated like an outcast was never a good feeling but I thought that stage had passed. Sadly, it never did and I am beginning to get sick of this feeling. Just like untreated injuries become infected, the psychological wounds that are left untreated also fester, spreading slowly and eventually consuming the person, changing him entirely. I have felt this way for so long that the need for being acknowledged and accepted has died away over time. The feelings of nonchalance are prevalent in my countenance.
      Darkness! It can be strange. It has so many meanings. When everything that you know and love is taken from you so harshly that all you can think about is anger, hatred, even revenge and no one can save you- that is darkness! How it is defined varies vastly. To me, it’s a source of power and a companion. Though, anything possessing such power has flaws. Darkness will eventually turn a person hollow. You know that you’ve capitulated to the darkness when you’ve accepted the price for a certain goal in life.
      I am a new person; one that this world shall fear. The world taught me to hate; I'll teach it fear. Now, I want to move the windmill with the wind called the FEAR!! We each act according to our own sense of justice and this will be my justice; this will be my judgment.