This is for Ocean, who is stuck sinking into this
depressingly painful lack of interest, nay, motivation
to continue living this daily cycle over and over and over again.

This is where I can actually see us being right now,
all murderously taxing responsibilities brushed off our tired shoulders
and just sitting by the bank talking about endless things
we've forgot to talk about;
snacking on delish crunchies and swearing to burn it off on the run later.

I am so done with college.
My soul is despairingly dead and
I feel all my artistic drive and passion for all things
beautiful and inspirational and just mind shockingly fantastic
slowly drain and seep out of my pores
and any other exit points that leads
the tiny parts of me out of my body.

I am a large fabric of delicate skin
slowly decaying on a frame of calcium.
I am allowing myself to be eaten
by the abstract monster of society-
the very thing I vehemently opposed to in the first place.
If this does not stop soon, I'll soon become one of them.
The collared, slave driven, sleep-deprived zombies.

I can't explain the way I feel right now;
well not at once, at first.
Even if you greet me the next day I don't think I could explain
how I feel on the inside.

I am dying.

I hereby declare that this is an official
plea to the Higher Power Above for strength and motivation
to allow me to pull through my final month
all in one level-headed piece.
I pray that the paranoia will disintegrate in the face of open mindedness;
I pray that I will have the patience and kindness to endure.

I told them of how scared I was, that,
in the silent moments where I am left alone in that room with my thoughts,
I would, essentially drive myself insane
with all the conflicting unexplainable emotions
and then end up doing something with sharp objects
that would seem logical and ameliorating at that time.
I love my mind but it does, in fact, hurt me sometimes.
To simply put it- I just need motivation
to continue pulling dragging myself through each day.

In the solitude of the room,
I found my mind voicing-
"Why bother to live since we're all gonna die, anyway?"
It surprised and scares me a bit that it had actually sank that deep into the matter.

Oh Homo Sapiens are indeed, a worrisome mess of a bunch.

And also, to the aforementioned H.P.A- please, please, leave my family alone.

O when the cruel, mocking sun sinks ever so peacefully
down beyond the everlasting line-
only then can the nightingale of the sky
appear-
no longer hidden behind the misty clouds
but bright and everlasting to cast down 
her nocturnal smile on us.
'till dawn breaks, that is.

I want to move you like the waves move the ocean
and no matter how much you push me away
I'll always come running back to you.




Your strangeness will always be so tempting;
so luscious, so divine, so addicting.
So much to the fact I know that you are bad for me-
that you, in your nature, will break me, crush me,
and the voice in my head warns me that you will destroy me.

But as usual, I choose to ignore it-
because you, my water, my stream, my river-
my ocean o so deep
with your secrets buried deep underneath-
that is where you hide your deepest fears-
that is where you hide all your haunting beauty and your mystery-
that is where I will choose to drown-
that is where I will choose to die-
engulfed and covered completely
in everything in its essence that is you, entirely;
until I forget all that I am.

Until I am no more.

//
on a side note, I want to imprint into my memory
the look and yearning that Levitt-Chu had on his face
when he made a song about fornication
sound like a graceful 18th century poem.

Please remember how that made you smile, albeit a bit.

Oh, in what direction do your thoughts travel?
Do they wander far and wide and
twist, turn and twirl in all the directions in between?
Do they wander, sometimes unrestrictedly
and often, without your conscious permission,
to the dark places hidden deep in the abyss of your mind?

Sometimes an innocent stroll back to nostalgia lane
reminiscing the good ol' days
could bring back a nasty experience
that may just jump out right at you
and you find yourself grimacing in pain.

And we do not often realize,
that the 'random' things people often quirk up,
may not be that often after all.
Sometimes the train of thought leads us chugging
from one station of emotion to the other-
depending on the particular subject that set the train off.

A delicious tempting whiff of a salivating scent,
or even the rough, crunchy sound of warm bread crust
could elicit different emotions all at once.
The memory of walking down the food market
and hearing the baker's cry could be a thought
that pops through your mind-
and then you remember you recognized that baker from somewhere-
Oh! He looks like friendly ol' Uncle Earl-
whose name also appears in the daily comic strip "Pickles"-
and "Mmmm..." pickles are juicy indeed...
and especially tasty when packed in a Subway sandwich-
sigh, and you remember biting into a humble BLT
and the ingredients start to topple and tumble into your mouth-
and you think of all the yummy treats you've tasted in life-
and your mind tricks you into thinking your hungry-
and your tummy starts to grumble in agreement-
and you pop into the nearby coffee shop-
completely unaware what got you here in the first place.