Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Death.

Story time! Actually just some writing exercise that I'm doing to improve on my deteriorating skill. If I had any in the first place. Without further ado,


He died. That was the simple reality of it all.

When you reach a certain age where good health is no longer a guarantee, you'd begin to imagine what death would be like. There are scenarios of course - movies and tv series to stimulate your imagination. Though as a given, the writers for these depicted scenes still would've need to get their imagination from somewhere. Seeing how anyone who is dead would have a hard time describing what's it like, much less write the experience down. Death remains the greatest mystery of life, though it does stand pale besides the even greater mystery that is women. But this is not what this story is about.

Alright, death. So, he died.

When someone do talk about death, what is it that interest us the most? The circumstances that eventually lead to the ending that we now know? Or is it the stopping of time, the ethereal like soul leaving the body, and the instantaneous stopping of all the major organs? Then, what about the effects of a person's death on everyone else? Family and friends. Is that a part of death too?

It is a complicated and touchy matter. In some places, almost taboo to talk about at all because it is deemed to be bad luck to talk about the deceased. When you do pass on, you take nothing with you and leave nothing behind. That is, discounting all the memories that anyone has of you when you were alive but even those eventually dims and blurs with the passing of time. Precious memories turned into dust under the ravage of time. Unless you do happen to be someone of prominence, who'd put a mark on the histories of the making of this world. A major business tycoon perhaps? That might work just as well. Though in truth, how many of us out of the 7 billion have what it takes to charter a new course for the muddy seas of histories? How many tycoons is one too many?

People die everyday in the world whether anyone knows or cares about it. Every death is treated different, depending entirely on the geographical location of your death. Sometimes, the circumstances as well though occasionally your ethnicity comes into play too, somewhat. Actually, you read all about it in any of the major online news portal. But to be frank, those are just the death that are 'newsworthy' and could increase readership, resulting in better sales which in turn generate much higher revenue. News have become much more of a business in this day and age where death is a much needed commodity to make the headlines.

But I'm not here to talk about the evil news corporations running our headlines. It's death that I'm going on about.

Once again, he died. Though I repeated it quite a few times. He could and did only die once. And once was more than he or anyone could take.

How did we arrive at this conclusion? Well, he was drunk and then he was driving. It's called DUI in some parts of the world. Driving Under Influence. Alcohol does funny things to people and sometimes people does funny things after ingesting a fair bit. But as you know, this is not one of those fun and happy times.

Simple motorized vehicular accident. He'd simply lost control of his Benz and swerved onto the incoming lane. Though a bus was speeding down the incoming lane as well. The result was a spectacular clash of German-made steel against simple locally made steel. Then a mangling of flesh and the steel contraption that is humans engineered to ease travel. Probably some bones added into the mix as well. No matter what ideas you have of crashes from the action movies, this was not it. No Bruce Willis climbed of the wreck, unharmed and ready to bust some heads. Nobody survived the accident despite the best effort by the emergency response team.

Everyone died. He died.

End.


Written with the help of a Starbucks frapp and the soothing environment too. Once again, my name is wrong. They never get right, not even once.

Thursday, August 22, 2013

On and on.

There's much I would type here if I could just stop for a moment to briefly collect my thoughts. Every single time I feel that I've got something worthwhile to write out, I'm nowhere near a keyboard. Then, when I'm finally in front of the screen, there are just too many distractions. And all the words, gone.

Which is the definitive conclusion of how poorly this blog has done in audience retention. I could barely keep myself interested when it's me that I'm talking about. That in itself has caused me much grief. It's better to not expect at all, then there won't be any disappointments at all. In a way, it's a much better way.

Here I am, rambling on and on. Almost about nothing at all.

What do people blog about, if not themselves, or, if at all?

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Today.

This day is quite a special day. I have here with me, two close friends, born on the exact same date - today.

Makes me wonder, what's so special about today? Probably nothing much, besides being the birth date of these two individuals. I would say I'm blessed to have known them but seeing that I've a lacking believe in omnipotent beings at the moment, I'll settle for being grateful. I am grateful.

The day itself is meaningless. The days spent together are all that matters.
and to all the days to come.

Saturday, August 10, 2013

Trouble.


Normally, I'd trouble you all with my incessant blabbing and whatnots. This time, I'll settle for a kinda trippy music video of a song which lyrics I hope is enough to convey what I want to, rather than what I always do.

sometimes, a song is all you need.

any other time, you need professional help, son.

Thursday, August 8, 2013

Dust to dust.

it's an indescribable sense of liberation;
like water seeping into a dried well.
light shinning in the darkness, finally.

all is dust; all is rewritten.

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

you.

they say the worst ideas come with the best of intentions, or the other way around.
but for what it's worth.

Bon anniversaire, mon amour. Je t'aime et je t'aimerai pour toujours.

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

1.

a brightly colored bag.
one young boy's attempt to spell love.
a whisper of serenity.
one period of unprecedented joy.
a promise kept, unbroken.
one.

Saturday, August 3, 2013

Four.

The reason I swim; 
because I don't want to drown, again.