Home Is Where The Heart Is

Saturday, April 29, 2006

I know you're tired. I know you're scared, I know you're weary, I know that sometimes the world seems too much for you.

Even the most brillantly-constructed facades must eventually crack with all the strain that you must been going through.

But just remember, you've got your friends, you've got your family, you've got God, and last and definitely least, you've got me.

You have the promise it will all be better when the rain stops.

Hang in there.

Come to Me, all ye who labour and and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.
- Matthew 11:28

Where is the moment we need at the most
You kick up the leaves and the magic is lost
They tell me your blue skies fade to grey
They tell me your passion's gone away
And I don't need no carryin' on

You stand in the line just to hit a new low
You're faking a smile with the coffee to go
You tell me your life's been way off line
You're falling to pieces everytime
And I don't need no carryin' on

'Cause you had a bad day
You're taking one down
You sing a sad song just to turn it around
You say you don't know
You tell me don't lie
You work at a smile and you go for a ride
You had a bad day
The camera don't lie
You're coming back down and you really don't mind
You had a bad day
You had a bad day

Well you need a blue sky holiday
The point is they laugh at what you say
And I don't need no carryin' on

You had a bad day
You're taking one down
You sing a sad song just to turn it around
You say you don't know
You tell me don't lie
You work at a smile and you go for a ride
You had a bad day
The camera don't lie
You're coming back down and you really don't mind
You had a bad day

Sometimes the system goes on the blink
And the whole thing turns out wrong
You might not make it back and you know
That you could be well oh that strong
And I'm not wrong

So where is the passion when you need it the most
Oh you and I
You kick up the leaves and the magic is lost

'Cause you had a bad day
You're taking one down
You sing a sad song just to turn it around
You say you don't know
You tell me don't lie
You work at a smile and you go for a ride
You had a bad day
You've seen what you like
And how does it feel for one more time
You had a bad day
You had a bad day

- Daniel Powter, Bad Day

Runnin' away, you can't pretend...
9:04 AM

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Wednesday, April 19, 2006

I found this somewhere on the net, and I think it's a very apt description.

Ode to the nice guys:

This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and %^#$&ing about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point.

This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores.

This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl's every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.

This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they're at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population.

This is for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don't end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.

This is for that time she left 30 SMSes, 12 voicemails on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn't worry about it.

This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you'd ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor.

This is also for that time she didn't have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing 'serious' between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: 'oh, but we're just friends!' And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you're nice like that.

This is for the time you spent every last dollar you had to buy a bouquet of flowers for her on Valentine's, because she had just broken up with her boyfriend and needed consoling, you wanted her to receive them and feel happy. However, you never got to give them to her, because you found her giving mouth-to-mouth to said ex in the back of his dad's Mercedes, and she was too busy to notice you.

The nice guys don't often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don't seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can't. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative %^#$&es. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as 'oh, he's too nice to date' or 'he would be a good boyfriend but he's not for me' or 'he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn't possibly ask him out!' or the most frustrating of all: 'no, it would ruin our friendship.'

Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathise and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can't figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I'm going to sleep with this complete ass now!).

But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn't last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you're sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude goes out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.

Someday.

Couldn't have said it better myself.

Runnin' away, you can't pretend...
1:56 PM

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Saturday, April 15, 2006

Upon touching His hand, the world went surreal.

Life, experiences, memories flashed before my eyes. My own birth, my childhood, the events that had stood out in my life for one reason or another. Then the images of her life flooded upon me. And finally, and most poignantly, the recollections of a life we spent together. Our first date, the absolute joys and the utter sorrows...

Our first kiss, beneath the pale moonlight.

Even a condemned soul will not give up the dearest of memories.

I found myself upon my knees.

"It is done," Death intoned. "Her life shall be spared from this realm - for now.

"When she wakes up, she will remember nothing. It will be as if you have never existed in her life."

I nodded. "It's better this way. Perhaps she will find someone new, someday."

Death turned to look at me. "Do you truly mean that, mortal?"

I looked within myself and found that I did. "Yes."

Silence. And then, "Follow me. There is something else you have to do."

I narrowed my eyes. "Haven't I fulfilled my obligations?"

Death's cloak seemed to billow with the touch of an unfelt wind. "Your obligations to me, yes. But not to her."

"What?" Disbelieving.

"There is still time before the transference of souls is complete. It is your discretion to spend them as you see fit. She awaits you, beyond that arch."

I hesitated. As far as archetypes of the Lord of the Dead went, they were painfully inaccurate. "But why... why are you doing this? I mean, letting me see her again?"

Death's response was unflustered, unemotional. "You are here because of love, yes?"

"Yes." A barely audible whisper.

"What does that love mean to you? More to the point, what would you give for the one you love?"

I knew the answer even before the question had been uttered.

"Anything."

Again that unfelt draught of wind. "Then perhaps, the reason you are here is not so different from the reason I am here."

Slowly, my mouth fell open.

"Be quick, mortal, before I change my mind."

I found her beyond the arch, as promised. She turned to look at me, her gaze equal parts sadness and gratitude.

"You silly, silly fool." She bit her lip, the tears running freely down her cheek.

My eyes filled. "I did it because..."

"Shhh." She motioned me to be silent, a delicate finger poised on my lips. "No cliched phrases of love - don't waste the time we have left..."

I grasped her hand in mine, our interlocking fingers conveying a mutual warmth that went far beyond the physical.

I looked into her eyes. "When you wake up, you won't remember any of this, much less that I ever existed," I revealed, sadly.

"I know." The words were laced with bitterness.

Then, lifting her head, her expression changed. Though tears now stained her face, I beheld the look I had fallen in love with a lifetime ago. "I don't care.

"All I want to do spend the rest of my time here with you."

I grinned lopsidedly. "You sure it's me you want now?"

"Tell you a secret." She winked at me conspiratorially, leaning closer. Her smell, although lacking the hint of any perfume, was dizzying. My heart began to beat faster, throbbing insistently in my chest. "There never was another guy."

I looked confused. "But the wedding dress, the church...?"

"You know the answer to that." Her eyes rested on mine, willing me to understand.

Recognition dawned. "But why? I always cared for you, I would have done anything for you -"

"Shhh. Let's not argue now." She pressed her body lightly against mine, laying her head on my shoulder. "Even a woman can be wrong sometimes."

I grinned. "You have no idea."

There were so many unanswered questions left, but at this moment, I really didn't care.

"There's something I've always been meaning to ask you for."

She raised her head. "What is it?"

I took a step back, raising her hand to my face and kissing it lightly. "May I have this dance?"

She looked confused. "But you've never known how to dance."

I winked at her. "Just trust me."

She continued to look bewildered, and then her face slowly broke into the impish smile I had seen one special night, a long time ago.

My free hand went around her waist as she sidled forward, her weight on my body, her chin once again on my shoulder. As I held her, I felt the area about my shoulder grow moist.

And together we danced.

We meet in the night in the Spanish cafe
I look in your eyes just don't know what to say
It feels like I'm drowning in salty water
A few hours left 'til the sun's gonna rise
Tomorrow will come, it's time to realize
Our love is finished forever

How I wish to come with you (wish to come with you)
How I wish we make it through

Just one last dance
Before we say goodbye
When we sway and turn round and round and round
It's like the first time
Just one more chance
Hold me tight and keep me warm
Cause the night is getting cold
And I don't know where I belong
Just one last dance

The wine and the lights and the Spanish guitar
I'll never forget how romantic they are
But I know, tomorrow I'll lose the one I love

There's no way to come with you
It's the only thing to do

Just one last dance
Before we say goodbye
When we sway and turn round and round and round
It's like the first time
Just one more chance
Hold me tight and keep me warm
Cause the night is getting cold
And I don't know where I belong
Just one last dance

Just one last dance, just one more chance, just one last dance...

- Sarah Conner & Marc Terenzi, Just One Last Dance

Runnin' away, you can't pretend...
5:39 PM

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Friday, April 14, 2006

Rules:
1. Bold the following words that are true about you.
2.GREEN! the things you wish were true.
3. add one thing true about you
4. and then tag onetwothreefourFIVE more people.

I miss somebody right now.
I don't watch TV these days.
I own lots of books
I wear glasses or contact lens.
I love to play video games.
I've tried marijuana.
I've been in a threesome.
I've been the psycho-ex in a past relationship.
I believe honesty is usually the best policy.
I curse sometimes. (sometimes? you have no idea)
I have changed a lot mentally over the last year. (damn right)
I carry my knife/razor everywhere with me.
I'm TOTALLY smart
I've broken someone's bones.
I'm paranoid sometimes.
I would get plastic surgery if it were 100% safe, free of cost and scar-free.
I need money right now. (who doesn't?)
I love sushi. (can you say yuck?)
I talk really,really fast/unclear.
I have long hair.
I have lost money in Las Vegas.
I have at least one sibling.
I have worn fake hair/fingernails/eyelashes in the past.
I couldn't survive without Caller I.D.
I like the way I look
I am usually pessimistic.
I have alot of mood swings.
I have a hidden talent.
I'm always hyper no matter how much sugar I have.
I have alot of friends. (quality, mano, quality)
I am currently single!
I have pecked someone of the same sex. (ain't gonna happen. period.)
I enjoy talking on the phone.
I practically live in sweatpants or PJ pants.
I love to shop.
Enjoy window-shopping. (don't ask. haha)
I would rather shop than eat.
I don't hate anyone.
I'm a pretty good dancer.
I'm completely embarrassed to be seen with my mother. (well, not completely. haha)
I have a cell phone.
I believe in God.
I watch MTV on a daily basis.
I have passed out drunk in the past 6 months. (I draw the line at passing out, wasted)
I've rejected someone before.
I have no idea what I want to do for the rest of my life.
I want to have children in the future. (yes, stop sniggering now)
I have changed a diaper before.
I've called the cops on a friend before.
I'm not allergic to anything.
I have a lot to learn.
I have been with someone at least 10 years older or younger.
I am shy around the opposite sex.
I have made a move on a friend's significant past or crush in the past.(not proud of it)
I own the "South Park" movie.
I would die for my best friends.
I think that Pizza Hut has the best pizza.
I have used my sexuality to advance my career.
I love Michael Jackson, scandals and all.(I don't think love to hate counts, does it?)
Halloween is awesome because you get free candy.
I watch Spongebob Squarepants and I like it. (oh, ewww)
I have dated a close friend's ex.
I am happy at this moment!
I'm obsessed with guys.
Democrat.
I am punk rockish.
I am preppy.
I study for tests most of the time. (haha. utter bollocks)
I tie my shoelaces differently from anyone I've ever met.
I can work on a car.
I love my job.
I am comfortable with who I am now.
I have more than just my ears pierced.
I walk barefoot wherever I can.
I have jumped off a bridge.
I love sea turtles.
I spend ridiculous money on makeup.
Plan on achieving a major goal/dream.
I'm proficient in a musical instrument.
I worked at MacDonald's restaurant.
I hate office jobs.
I love sci-fi movies.
I think water rules.
I went college out of state.
I like sausages.
I love kisses. (no shit, Sherlock?)
I fall for the wrong people. (amen to that)
I adore bright colours.
I can't live without black eyeliner.
I don't know why the hell I just did this stupid thing.
I usually like covers more than originals.
I can pick up things with my toes.
I can't whistle.
I can move my tongues in waves, much like a snakes slithers.
I have ridden/owned a horse.
I still have every journal I've ever written in.
I can't stick to a diet.
I talk in my sleep.
I try to forget things by drowning them out with loads of distraction.(standard-issue distraction kit)
Climbing trees is a brilliant past-time.
I have jazz in my blood.
I wear a toe ring.
I have a tattoo.
I can't stand at LEAST one person I work with.
I am a caffeine junkie.
I cosplay or know what cosplaying is.
I have been to over 15 conventions.
I will collect anything, and the more nonsensical, the better.
I'm an artist.
I only clean my room when necessary. (necessary is a flexible term)
I like a person of the same sex. (hell, no)
I love being happy.
I am an adrenaline junkie.
I have ridden an elephant.
I love chocolates and crowns!
I go to school NOT for the sake of lessons. (so they won't throw me out for low attendance)
I can't ride a bicycle. (this is so embarassing)
I think I'm the only person crazy enough to do this at 6 in the morning without any sleep for the night. (plenty of crazier people, believe me)
I feel crazy.
I love tomatoes!!
I like peanut butter on bananas. (weird)
Been told "You're on fire!"
I'm a netballer.
I believe in Serendipity.
I think the word 'RASPBERRY' is sexaaay!
I love to look at people's teeth.
I don't wanna grow up. (too late, hit old age already. wait, over 20 isn't old?)
I can cross my eyes n stick out my tongue n still look cute.
Gaining weight is a wonderful thing. (nuts?!)
I am a PRO...procrastinator. (undisputed king. well, almost)
I love listening to gossip. (yes, even guys do)
I really should be studying for exams now.
I have been picked up by the police before.

5 tagged people:
1) Clement
2) Stella
3) Derek
4) Arina
5) Nurul

Runnin' away, you can't pretend...
6:30 PM

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Wednesday, April 12, 2006

The Three Laws Of Romantics:

First Law: A romantic may not harm his/her love, or through inaction, allow his/her love to come to harm.

Second Law: A romantic must obey the desires of his/her love, provided such obedience does not conflict with the First Law.

Third Law: A romantic must protect his/her own heart, provided such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Laws.

System Status... accessing.

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Shutting down...

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Rebooting.... Done.

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Verifying system integrity...

The Four Laws Of Romantics:

Zeroth Law: A romantic may not harm his/her relationship, or through inaction, allow his/her relationship to come to harm.

First Law: A romantic may not harm his/her love, or through inaction, allow his/her love to come to harm, except where that would conflict with the Zeroth Law.

Second Law: A romantic must obey the desires of his/her love, provided such obedience does not conflict with the Zeroth or First Laws.

Third Law: A romantic must protect his/her own heart, provided such protection does not conflict with the Zeroth, First or Second Laws.

Illusion, all illusions. Vagaries of perception. The feeble constructs of an inferior intellect that is trying desperately to justify an existence that is without meaning or purpose!

Runnin' away, you can't pretend...
1:37 AM

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Sunday, April 09, 2006

I had expected to find some approximation of the legendary River Styx, complete with grim-faced boatman Charon, or at least a dead and decaying vista that would pass for what was the oft-mentioned stygian landscape of the Land of the Dead.

Funny how a certain cliche can be perpetrated to the extent that no one bothers to question its validity anymore.

Instead, all I found was an endless expanse of blue, stretching as far as the eye could visualise in all directions.

The experience was not unlike being submerged in the deep ocean, only that the light was neither completely absent or emanating from a source high above, but instead a uniform illumination that defied any attempts at identification.

Above me, I felt rather than saw the souls of the newly-deceased passing by, their soft murmurs a low hum in my mind. I could not discern the words, if words they were, but I could felt the raw, unadulterated emotion of souls no longer bound by earthly forms - here a snatch of utter sadness, there a glimpse of pure anger.

The final and overriding emotion of each of the dead, imprinted forever in their consciousness, washed over me like a flood and it was all I could do to stand my ground and not be overwhelmed.

When my eyes found their focus, I beheld a lone figure in the distance. What was left of my sanity implored me not to continue, to turn back from the path of madness.

But that voice was just a whisper now.

Another step forward.

Death beckoned me closer. I had expected some colossal otherwordly figure, but as the current trend would have it, cliches were there to be disproven. Instead, the visage of Death was simply that of a well-groomed gentleman, rather in the style of 17th-century Victorian attire.

His appearance was entirely human as first glance, yet as I gazed into his eyes, I shuddered, for they revealed their owner's true nature. Notwithstanding a certain proverb about one's eyes, Death's twin orbs of vision seemed impossibly old, betraying not only an aura of weariness but also every possible emotion that can and must have been felt through the souls of the deceased.

With difficulty, I looked away. Those eyes had the insidious ability to hypnotise and ensnare those who strayed too far from the path of curiosity.

"Why do you challenge Death Himself?" A faint whisper in my mind.

My mouth was dry. I had no response.

"Answer me, mortal, or face the consequences of what you are proposing right now."

My dry tongue could only grind out the barest of replies. "Because..."

"I know the reason you are here." Unflappably, "I want to know why you have insisted on coming."

If Death insisted on talking me down, I had to play along.

"I do not care for myself. I do not fear for my fate, if I may achieve what I came here to do."

Death displayed no emotion, and yet the soft currents of foreign thought took on a faintly mocking tone.

"You do not fear? Fear. It is written all over your mind. It is as obvious as the fragility your mind is built on, yet you expect me to believe you?"

Death was merciless.

"No, I shall tell you why you are here. You have been compelled by guilt, compelled by duty, but most of all, you have been forced here by shame."

I quailed.

"Shame that you could bear to live with, shame that your own notion of manliness has let you down."

The terror I had been stolidly keeping in check all along now built to a wailing crescendo.

Like a rapidly-emptying basin, my liquid courage leaked away.

I dropped to one knee.

The fear of failure had become so real, had finally manifested itself indelibly right at the worst possible moment. I had lost the initiative.

But I had not failed yet.

Self-sacrifice. Self-sacrifice. I kept repeating the words over in my mind, dredging up the emotions to feel them all the more keenly, trying to block out the demons of fear.

After an eternity, the flood of apprehension somehow subsided to a manageable trickle.

I looked up, a steely determination not to be bested again, least of all by myself.

Death was patient.

"However, shame is no less a valid reason for facing the greatest of your fears, and overcoming them. Many mortals have been given a reprieve from their fate, simply because a comrade was sufficiently driven by shame to attempt the unthinkable."

A life for a life.

The end would justify the means.

Death was pulling back a sleeve of His long, black cloak.

Unlike the polished facial appearance, Death's hand was pockmarked with disease and corruption, riddled with scars and marked with countless wrinkles.

"Your final barrier to save the soul of the one you have come for. Take my hand, and you will be one with the spirits."

"There will be no pain."

My decision. My life.

My love.

I am so high, I can hear heaven
I am so high, I can hear heaven
Whoa, but heaven
No, heaven don't hear me

And they say that
A hero could save us
I'm not gonna stand here and wait
I'll hold onto the wings of the eagles
Watch as they all fly away

Someone told me
Love would all save us
But, how can that be
Look what love gave us

A world full of killing
And blood spilling
That world never came

And they say that
A hero could save us
I'm not gonna stand here and wait
I'll hold onto the wings of the eagles
Watch as they all fly away

Now that the world isn't ending
It's love that I'm sending to you
It isn't the love of a hero
And that's why I fear it won't do

And they say that
A hero could save us
I'm not gonna stand here and wait
I'll hold onto the wings of an eagle's
Watch as they all fly away

And they're watching us
They're watching us
As we all fly away

And they're watching us
They're watching us
As we all fly away

And they're watching us
They're watching us
As we all fly away

- Nickelback, Hero

Runnin' away, you can't pretend...
11:16 AM

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Thursday, April 06, 2006

Today was just...

Nice. Period.

Forecast is cautious optimism in the later morning and early afternoon, with uncertainty in the later part of the day followed by possible fulfilment in the evening. Temperatures range from a low of hopefulness to a high of extreme euphoria.

Confucious say: To attain the level of bad-ass motha-friggin parallel parker, heed the dual enlightments of half-clutch control and a flexible waist.

Verbal diarrhea never sounded so good late at night.

Peace. Over & Out.

Runnin' away, you can't pretend...
10:49 PM

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Sunday, April 02, 2006

"We have guns."

"No, what you have are bullets, and the hope that when your guns are empty I will no longer be standing, because if I am you will all be dead before you've reloaded."

The epitome of the 'right back at ya' statement.

Descent To Madness: The Return-To-Sender Marathon.

When you and your double, your alter-ego, finally merge...

Into...

One.

And you are no longer a prisoner of your doubts and your fears.

When, at last, hope breaks in upon your psyche like a ray of ruddy sunlight through the dense canopy of overhanging despair.

Do you embrace it? Or do you turn away from it?

I hope I'm right.

Runnin' away, you can't pretend...
9:54 PM

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