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My new beginning....

Ever since I opened this blog.....I have failed to make a blogger out of myself,but from today onwards i vow to blog as much as I can. More blogging than facebooking...yes,that is what i'll do...hehe

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To Change or To Change.

Life changes you.  ‘Change’ the one constant throughout the perpetuation of time. The influence of the people you meet and the experience you undergo are like micro surgeries that restructure bits and parts of you. Either you feel more corrupted with age or more grounded with your accumulation of wisdom. One thing for sure age does not and never will reflect wisdom. It’s always easier being the person from the outside looking in. However, when you are the protagonist of the situation at hand, then the rules of the game changes. The world did not come into being along with an instruction manual. We long constructed our pillars of morals through trials and errors from generation to generation. Thesis and antithesis like that of Hegel’s, as the pendulum swings humanity makes their progression. Self-evaluation and reflection is an essential ritual for every conscience bearing human being. To question ourselves is just as important as questioning everything else aroun...
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Ann

She cried again last night. As usual I had nothing to say but pat her to sleep. Almost two and a half years of continued weeping at night. Shouldering the burden of soothing a 7-year-old, what wisdom does a 10-year-old have to bring it to a stop. Lying next to me, sharing a single bed “Akka, where is mommy?”, the same question asked repeatedly, drowned only by the whir of the fan keeping us cool on  sweltering summer nights.   Looking at her this morning, you would never know the existence of her nightly griefs. Grandma held her hand whilst we both waited for our 6 a.m. school bus. Her short curly hair, dark blue primary pinafore, white shoes, slouching under the weight of her school bag pregnant with heavy textbooks, she looks so ordinary. Or maybe not, we both were unusually skinny and scrawny. Something we have constantly been made fun of at school; a few more years later down the line when we both approached puberty the bullying is only made worse for being flat ches...
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Purge

When hollowness creeps up on you in a sure steady pace and you're up against the wall of your skull knowing there is no way out and it is going to get you somehow, panic and frenzy ensues. Low of lows, emptiness flows through the chambers of your heart like liquid nitrogen; freezing the warmth of your blood that's been gushing through you with life. You recognize this experience of being down in the gutters of bleakness. You want to purge it out but it remains within your rectum like dehydrated stool in what seems to be the most glorious form of constipation. Enema falls short of being effective as it only manages to soften the outermost surface of the stool of emptiness and let the little washed out waste dribble out of the anus with no sign of total assuagement.  I use enema here as an analogy for short-lived life purposes I have seemed to have been engrossed in throughout these years. None have seemed to hold my steadfastness toward seeing it through to measuring heights...
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