Archive for October, 2012

Written pleasures

When people fail you, words serve you best.

The past three years have turned me into a woman whose emotional satisfaction is rather fulfilled through her mental intellect.

Quote, myself.

I have a lust for books, for there’s nothing that beats the smell of these old yellow pages. Sedating.


Because any attempt to study while having Smoke around is an epic fail!

Softly, it creeps next to me. An aura of warmness that slowly structures and reforms itself as it grows into a fading existence, a subtle creation of my restless subconscious. A substitute to ease my burning desire, to bring the ache to an end, and to revive a memory once abolished.

Softly, it crawls into the abyss within myself. A temporary sense of living lures; A heartbeat. An extended breath that goes deep into the pits of pierced lungs. My subconscious revels in the ambiance of a once relevant atmosphere. Pampered with the lust it feels once again. Tarnished feelings reborn.

Softly, it embraces me. It slides over my skin, soothes the twitching body,  fills up the spaces between my fingers, presses over my feeble hands, sucking the pain out of a vulnerable me. A presence, I can’t see. A presence that grows potent and significant towards my side. Provoking.

A rush of cold air blows, as though the ghost of my everlasting memory blew a sinister breath that evoked consciousness whining in remorse. Aching in remembrance, rendered helpless to pathetic reminiscing.

A sigh escaped. A tear followed, as the relics of an existence my subconsciousness put together was vaporized into nothingness. Sheer nothingness. Vanished into thin air.

The memory subsides.

Time is no magic. It heals no wounds, it erases no memory.

You don’t need time.

Time is only a weak excuse for the weak. Time flies, leaves you behind, stuck in reverse; somewhere between past and present.

Time will not vaporize a feeling. It might suppress it, but never completely demolished.
Time will not vaporize a memory, unless you do it yourself.

Time is no good.

Time will not ask your questions nor dig up answers for them. Time will not explain; time will not tell. Time will only pile up your life into stacked memories, and slip away leaving you buried beneath them as they all crumble over you.

You don’t need time.

Worse it becomes with time. It doesn’t go away. No, it doesn’t. It stays, it rots within yourself, it aches and eats you away. The void grows into an abyss.

Time drains you empty.
Time is an enemy, not an ally.

Don’t wait for time to fix you up. You don’t need time to pluck the memory sown so deep into your mind. It won’t, and it never will.

Time is only a matrix where you elude along with your life and a bunch of memories that adhere.

If only they vanish along with the people who vanished.



Sink into the depth of yourself. Float in the vacancy of a heart drained empty. Breathe. Ventilate the closed chamber within. Welcome yourself into the void of your own. Fall. Slowly, quietly. Drown.


The music plays. Listen, as you sink. Peacefully, silently. Again, breathe, as you slide into the darkness of your soul. How dark is it there? How far have you gone?

You fall. Faster and faster. Until you bounce, on a cozy bed of memories. Your heart rebounds. Does it feel? Your mind twitches. Does it remember? You still bounce… And the stories bounce along, floating all together in the vacancy of emotions once abandoned.

Desire has diminished into nothingness. Only a beautifully provocative brain still remains, still reminisces, still remembers, a feeling rather than a memory, still describes a story not a character, still active in useless remembrance.


The music proceeds.
Transport yourself into a fantasy that ceased to exist.

Pour a vision into a dreamless sleep.


An organized mess of mine


I train my mind

Posted: October 11, 2012 in communication, evaluation, Randoms
Tags: , , ,

Mind is a power we posses, we own and shape only to shape ourselves and our lifestyles in return. Mind is a power some chose to misuse, to underestimate, to waste and to grow thick and trivial with laziness.

I don’t.
I appreciate my mind. I take hold of my power.

I train my mind.
I train my mind to grow active and creative; wild with imagination and strong with information. I train my mind to crave info, to run after it, to chase it and to collect it, to cherish it, to nourish it and most importantly make use of it. I train my mind to grow analytic,  to analyze, to think, to shuffle a jigsaw puzzle of info then put the pieces together, to distort, assort and resort anything and everything.
I train my mind to shoot questions, collect answers, doubt them only to fire another lot of questions and dig up their corresponding answers.
Busy, my mind grows. Louder and louder it buzzes. And I buzz along…
I train my mind to build up its own archive from scratch; everything you come across counts. One doesn’t simply stumble upon life to overlook it’s details. My mind thrives in alertness.
My mind alternates, between reality and a world of its own. My mind leads, never follows.

My mind is my power, and it’s limitless. And I owe it to my existence, to train it into productivity, to force it to think through and beyond boundaries, thoughts are far beyond boundaries.
My mind is my responsibility, and I have to fulfill it. I shape my mind to shape myself and thus my world. I mold it and structure it then spark it, trigger it, and activate it.

I train my mind…
To appreciate itself and the power it beholds.