Silence

Like the unforgivable night,

Silence.

Like the dark thoughts running in my mind,

Silence.

Like the bone chilling cold,

Silence.

Like the last breath it stole,

Silence.

Like the last chance to survive,

Silence.

Like there is no other way to life,

Silence.

Why does everything have to be this way?

Silence.

Why can I not say what I want to say?

Silence.

Why do I have to change to fit in? 

Silence.

Why do I have to fight for freedom? 

Silence.

Why won’t I have a chance at happiness? 

Silence.

Why is is so difficult to feel less worthless? 

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Condescending 

This is dedicated to a friend of mine:

You’re so much better than me, 

Your grades, your looks, even your sugar daddies. 

You say you were bullied as a kid,

Then surely you understand the term ‘Condescending Judgement’. 

You told me your stories in confidence, 

You asked me to keep them a secret. 

Now I don’t understand how everyone knows, 

When my mouth has always been closed. 

Yes I know you won the genetics lottery,

Just remember that lottery isn’t a sustainable sorcery. 

You have so much experience in every field that concerns life, 

But that does not give you the right to indulge in mine. 

I can’t tell you this because I consider you a friend, 

But when have my friends ever been so condescending? 

I know you obsession with owning property, 

Is that why you’ve turned yourself so improperly? 

I’m a hypocrite for calling you condescending, 

Because my judgements are lesser than that of a friend.

But just because my morals don’t align with yours, 

Doesn’t mean I won’t listen to you at all.

And if I can spare a minute for your bullshit, 

Then why can’t you spare a second for my wit? 

Enjoy your free dish while you can,

Not everyone can rely on a man. 

Congratulations on your successes, 

I hope you won’t slept with more men past ten. 

And please keep boosting about the money you get,

At least I get to keep my weekends. 

You don’t schedule in time for friends,

Because you’re too busy flirting with older men.

So congratulations again on your successes my friend,

I may not be rich but as least I’m happy.

Filthy Rich

I finally understood what this phrase meant: filthy rich. I say so not from experience or a sudden change of luck. I understood from observation, from realisation. Not everything has to be understood by experience. Some things are more clearly explained through the art of observation. The rich become the rich by getting their hands dirty. Hands being a metaphor being everything they are to everything they believe in: their morals, the goals, their dreams, their beliefs, and most importantly, their pride. You’d think the rich pride themselves in being so rich and trust me, they do. I have seen them, I have observed them. But if you dig deeper in their pride, if you look at the source of their riches, you’ll find that they will most likely not be proud of what they have done to accumulate such wealth. No one gets rich by helping others help. That is not to say all rich people are bad. The rich has the ability to help the poor (if they choose to) but you’ll rarely find someone rich whose wealth was founded upon helping those in need. 

So where am I going with this? I once asked a closed relative of mine, “Which job will earn the greatest amount of money?”

Everybody dreams about being rich but we all have different reasons. I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to be rich but the truth is, I only want to be rich so I don’t have to think about money. I want to live comfortable enough that money is never a worry of mine. But if you ask me whether I want to be the richest of the richest, I probably couldn’t care less. 

Others want to be rich for different reasons. Rich brings many associative traits. The most common ones are power, fame, and luxury. 

I guess my reason fits under independence and luxury. Two things I’ve never really had in life. 

But would I damage my morals to reach these goals? That is, would I be willing to get my hands dirty? 

To be completely honest, I’m not quite so sure myself. I see how easy it is to make dirty money and it tempts me. I guess the devil would not have survived so long if it did not know how to tempt. And then I would tell myself that it is not worth ruining the morals I have upheld for so many decades. But being rich, even filthy rich is surely tempting…. 

Bad habits are hard to quit

There are many things I wish I was better at. I can’t say I haven’t tried but I also can’t say I’ve tried very hard. 

As human beings, it is in our nature to resort to the things that are easy and simple. It goes against our nature to exert effort to work for something. And usually that only happens if the rewards outweigh the work efforts. No one works for free. Even volunteers are gaining the experience or the title of selflessness. 

What inspired me to make this post is the process of checking my emails. I found that the most dangerous habit I have become accustomed to is to mark emails I have opened as “unread” to deal with it at a later stage but in this day and age, our inbox are so frequently visited by mail that the old ones are drowned in masses of junk and we tend to forget what’s not there. 

So instead of leaving the decision making for the future, decide upon it now. Because when you do things in the future it is thrown into your past which is why bad habits are hard to quit because good habits are thrown in between the time zones of the future and the past and miss the opportunity to exist in the present. 

So I will leave this post with one final note, “All good things require sacrifice” because you have to sacrifice time in the present to change your way of living. 

Leave me a comment on “What you are willing to sacrifice your present time for?

The path to no where

That’s what it feels like doesn’t it? The future, I mean. A path unknown like a path to no where but every step we take is somewhere and every step into somewhere is a step into the future.

And just like the future, I have no idea where this post is going. I don’t have an excuse or an explanation to describe why I stopped writing for two years (well, almost two years). I guessed I got shy to expose so many of my secrets online (even though it may be anonymous). I don’t know why I started writing again. I thought I stopped because I found happiness. And maybe because this blog contains the scars I could not carry so I couldn’t bring myself to be exposed to it again. 

I don’t know who reads these posts and I don’t know why but I’m going to keep writing anyway because that’s what I feel like doing in the present. I’m too tired to remember the burden of the past and I’m too nervous to focus on the mysteries of the future so I’ll just appreciate what is happening now. 

And right now, my family is playing a card game while I’m sitting in the dining room writing. I should probably join them onto the path to no where.