Don't let the past hold you back,
cause soon you'll realise that life is short
Live it.
/ Saturday, August 29, 2015
{ 7:14 PM }
Question
A question dwelling in my head,
a struggle that refused to be said.
A decision that i have yet made,
an answer that will come as I wait.
- J.
/ Wednesday, November 26, 2014
{ 9:22 PM }
fear.
I have a fear.
Fear that consumes my future.
Lord I want to submit unto your hands.
/ Monday, February 3, 2014
{ 12:08 AM }
I tried so hard.
/ Wednesday, January 1, 2014
{ 11:38 PM }
Trying
You try really hard, but yet you fail sometimes.
You struggle with your mind, your memories.
But you gotta stand up.
Again.
And again.
/ Wednesday, December 11, 2013
{ 10:30 PM }
Big Teddy.
11/12/2013
Add up to be 9.
/ Saturday, October 5, 2013
{ 3:59 PM }
The Chapter.
When one chapter of fairytale ends, it becomes history.
And here comes the next chapter.
/ Wednesday, January 23, 2013
{ 11:23 PM }
Those Hands.
Life is always uncertain at each turn of the road.
The pathway down the trail may be decorated beautifully with the fine tips of pine trees, morning dew still on them; hovering at the roadside with the fragrant smell of white lilies permeating the surrounding air.
You breathe in, and it feels like heaven.
Your little piece of heaven.
Little do we know that at the end of the road and when it is time to take a turn, the picturesque view of the bright sun, lilies and pine trees vanishes into light dust particles and in place of them stands a dark and wet pavement made of rubble soaked in the unforgiving rain.
For the whole night as you are walking down the gloomy passageway, the rain and wind rage a war with one another, inviting thunderstorms and lightnings to create the perfect ambience to celebrate the smell of death.
The scent of victory of the evil one, rejoicing.
It is almost surreal; you can smell it even when you are not breathing.
It has infiltrated into the fear-stricken and weary mind of yours.
The freezing, needle like raindrops pierce your paper-thin skin and attack your sense of touch till they are no more.
Your knees buckle, and it meet the rough and muddy ground with a loud thud.
Your hands start shaking and trembling.
Unable to support your soulless body, and with an even louder thud, your entire frame inched into the earth of which the process seems like eternity.
Those locks of yours are planted into the earth; rain swarmed with the earth seeps into your scalp.
And nonetheless, the ferocious thunderstorm stomp violently by your ear, cruelly send chills down your spine as you wail silently in the deafening scene.
You do not bother crying for help; your senses tell you that you cannot be heard.
You are alone.
You know the difference- which are your tears and which are of the rain.
The former is burning hot while the latter is unrelentingly freezing.
As you lay there, lifeless and motionless, you feel nothing.
You stopped feeling.
In the midst of the blurred rain and dreadful chills, a bright light shines in your direction and your eyes flickered instantaneously at its direction.
That beam of light is almost blinding in contrast to its murky backdrop.
It stings your eyes to even catch the glimpse of the rays, but you set your sight on the source with much desperation.
It hurts, but mind over body.
A pair of feet covered in boots is walking towards you, and your heart leaped.
That took you by surprise, you do not expect your heart to be beating after all.
Walking towards you, stomp stomp stomp.
You eyes are still fixated on the light source.
Help is walking right towards me.
The figure sticks out a pair of hands from the front pockets, put it under your limp body and lifts you up.
Strong and steady hands, you noted.
Stomp, stomp, stomp.
Walking away from your spot, away from your darkness.
Stomp, stomp, stomp.
You remember those hands, you know who it belongs to.
Stomp, stomp stomp.
Those nail pierced hands.