Pills that drain and stain.

A hydrant I have been for the past few weeks and it's not the best of feelings. It takes your body to rot away till you can get some attention around my household, because everyone has so much of tolerance, and so expects everyone to have as much tolerance as possible.

After throwing up over 5 times within 1 hour or so, my dad was convinced it's time to head for pills. So off we go to a dispensary, where people who can't afford would usually walk in. I always had a way with not so able people in life. I looked up to them for all that horror they went through just to feed themselves daily, while we find our horrors trying make the right choice of lipstick for the cocktail tonight. Whore.

I flash a smile to everyone amidst my whimpering pain, and then groan because I know I have to wait. This wait, is usually hours. My realisation falls down to the bottom of my shit list when a kid walks up, looks up at me to greet me and then pukes right in front of me reminding me of an exorcism. I felt my biological pipeline triggered off immediately, but I still say my prayers and it works regardless to the fact I sit comfortably on the top ten in Satan's list. I started helping 'Emiles' mother clean up, while everyone else rushed out in disgust. Morons.

Settling my dad on a seat, I finally sit on a worn off chair myself. I dozed off completely with no food or drink for whole 24 hours or more. Then I remembered....

Back in time, when I'm sick I was happy. My mother stays back home without being off to work. I get everything I want. I get a cozy blanket and bed sheet to go with. Warm warm bathes. Hot hot food. The home made soups and the famous Elephant House Cream sodas and Cream Crackers. Not to mention the ice cold, Cologne soaked gauze that is put on my forehead to ease the pain. The big big hugs and kisses. So, being sick is all you ever wanted. Bliss.

Ching! It's finally us. I drag myself in just to see the doctor on the phone. She makes me sit in front of her, while she bitches about her colleague to another. I couldn't stop eavesdropping and realised she is bitching about the very doctor who cured my dad many years back. Humans.

A good 30 minutes and then she gives me a thorough examination to know where I live, what my father does, where I study and if I'm off to another country after my studies. It all adds up to the bill you see. Three hours and I finally drag myself and dad out of there. I couldn't focus anymore and I remember my dad say my eyes were blood shot. I go home, no one to really warm up water so it was the cold splint of water down my back. I had to take a wash after that dispensary. I hit the bed and I think. Blackout.

I was not well after the dosage. So off I finally went a real hospital with all the blood tests and AC. Another new dosage which had almost triple the number of medicine given by the dispensary. So did the cost. Luxury.

The reports made matters worst with conclusions drawn I'm mighty messed up. So precautions started to pour in, and now I'm in a glass box. These are tough times and I can't afford to be in a glass box. Not now, never. I am an investment with a virus. Aiyo.

The pills made me feel like a toad, so I crave for the sun. I love the sun. Always will. I walk down streets just to smile with the sun. Then now, I know the cure. Warmth.

My stone cold face hangs as the childish loveliness has drained. I try to bring it back not by eating hot hot soup, not by a blanket so warm, not by smokey baths, not by hot water bottles and certainly not by running back to my mothers' arms, but by powdery expensive pills. Pathetic.

When Life drains, you end up a stain. So stop the pills and hit the beach. Live.

Passing by the picture perfect

We all have difficult weeks. One with unending failures are the worst ones.

Next comes the usual outbursts that is nothing but alot of crying, whining, hair loosing depression and loads and loads of sleep. You just lie on your bed, while every minute adds a new reason for you to lie low and, sink even. Starting with realising how fat you are, how sun burnt you are, how lonely you are, how everyone jeers at who you are, how stupid you are and how dead you are really, the sensuous hums of denial flows in triumphant; it's murder in the wind.

One thing lingers in you mind best at this moment; even if your just blowing it out of proportion; You've lost it all. We conclude there, but what if we step beyond that line?

You've lost it all, so.......What have you got to lose? Start over sounds like the simplest plan.

Emotions are not easy to get over. As simple and common that ideology is, the hardest it has been to conquer the real remedy for it. It is as unique as you are. It is mysterious as you are. It's your mental finger print, that no one but you know and go through. No one can save you or share you beating yourself up. Don't expect anyone to either.

We rewind life so much, we forget the present and that future waiting with his arms wide open. Fall down; feel helpless, sit down and let it pass by. Just don't sit there frame the picture into perfection and watch. Your admiration of your grief will inhibit you from seeing the walls of time falling apart along with a life; a life that you could have built up to a fortress of glory resembling your greatest strides of recovery.

Remember that merry-go-round and the world that becomes a mere blur you simply pass by while you enjoy spontaneous doses of the rush? You never did let go of that horse; you never let go of this life.

Boys do cry Robert Smith

Sadness is bad ass. It's stronger than fear and subtle than joy. To say it's over is really very hard. You can't define the end of sadness, but you can that of happiness; and that is sadness. It has a systematic methodology in breaking down a human life piece by piece, organ by organ, cell by cell to thought by thought and feel by feel. Degeneration has never been so evident as what sadness causes.

I've seen the women weep, but it's always a little different when the man weeps. One minute he is all that can keep health and wealth in tact, next minute hes' tears fall with echoing thuds, shattering a courage or two and a hope or two. The sobbing is worst. It keeps coming in patterns attempting to gasp for air, or maybe life you might think. It sends so much of body reflexes showing the amount of control the mind and body is under now. All you do is, sit and watch. While you watch, you want to know what's next. When is recovery going to come and will he live down the shame? The solitary minute of weeping in front of you will he live it down? Can you live it down? Feel not too alone, not too wrecked to know this whole life is up to you, no matter how many are there for you in person? Wreckage is meant to call on doubts and doubt is a monster who lingers for a very long time, time being a monster of its' own of course. I always hated time. bah!

Maybe men need to cry. Maybe that's what lacks a bad man. Maybe that's what causes sexual harassment. Maybe that's what causes a man choose violence as the emotional out put. Maybe that's the cause of the Sexist you live with. Maybe masculinity was defined wrong by Merriam Webster and now a whole sex suffers and feels defeated at the event of shedding a tear even when its' the biological process of resisting something that just went into your eye.

Well, I made up my mind. I want a man who cries. So cry for me baby, cry.

Lavender eyes

To see too much of beauty in a dream that you can never reach might seem a shame. Making that dream not come true is still a shame. Fight the thoughts, light up the neurons, feel good with the very blank lasps....

You need the Lavender eyes.

Everyday you're a hero to all. To be a hero of your own you don't remember. To give up on the daily breath you're suppose to breathe is killing the dream, day by day, night by night. It bids you good bye along with the sunset, into the coastline disappearing into the tides that you loved so much, and yet will never come back. You sit back here thinking... 'It's all fine. I'm building my boat. I'll be there with you soon.' You won't. So....

You need the Lavender eyes.

Watch their thunder, watch their tears, watch their flame, watch their hunger. You don't do thunder, you don't do tears, you don't do flame, you don't do hunger. Then you're not one of them, but still you watch till your heart tumbles over your guts all the time.

You need the Lavender eyes.

Perspective rejoices, and you cry out loud. It stops the world from being from one; but no. Everyone wants you to give an explanation, to give your opinion, to give your word that perspective exists. To debate, to criticise, to argue, to get heart burns and eye sores. You need to say no....

You need the Lavender eyes.

Can't stop the aficionado in your lovers eyes. They will dig for the gold while you scream no, no. The maggot in your eye starts creeping in to your hind head, wailing on its' way 'I will feast, I will feast. I will feast in your sadness like a juicy fest'. You can't stop the lovers, but you can stop the maggot.

You need the Lavender eyes.

You want to live this little alone. You want to get away from them all. You want to start over all new. You want to ask them to fuck off. You want to make sure they follow you not at all. Then you know....

You need the Lavender eyes.

A distant swim, a distant revival. You're finally living the mirage, live it well. Head high with the sun in your eyes you'll see the clouds in you face, and the ocean ripple that carries you high. Sonatas from the mellow crimson caves not too far will fill your imagination with everything in between you and the soul. Fill, fill and fill. Drink till your drop, feed till you drop, live till you drop. See your way out....

You need the Lavender eyes.

The dream; it keeps you under the hood.

Bad day, fists fly, rotten words sweep by and then an ache deep down inside reminds you the human heart can't bare this anguish that you are hoping to inflict. We ignore. The rest is what we call regret.

You wish you kept your mouth shut, you wish you let that beast whine, you wish you didn't see the blood on it's face, you wish you would have ignored it, you wish you remembered it matters to you anyway. Humans are such. It's more human to realise.

Living the dream helps you a lot. Don't start running wild and fiery. Next time think 'I have a dream to live so screw this'. Drift away from the energy drainer to an energy generator. Stay under the hood of your dream, it's the best booster you got. My dream goes somewhat like this; 'Heel girl! Heel!' it shouts.

The mind of mine so light I feel,

It shows nothing but the bliss I want to see,

The heavenly seas say out to me,

Our warm blue waters wait for your dive so deep.

Peace to all. Peace to this world. Peace. Peace. Peace.

A million dollar you

The savagery of an eye exist when it does nothing. Let it look up high a million feet up, let it look down a million feet down, let it look around and spin around along with the boggling head.

The leaves keep growing, the grass will always be green, the sun will rise on the other side, the flowers will bloom and so I ask...What have we got to lose?

A ticket to heaven - 'Working according to the scripts assigned by human nature can get you somewhere only on the other side.' Think again. God meant something more when he said do good and you will see heaven.

Life long love - You really want to put all that effort to be loved only by one being while there's quiet a few millions hearts out there? Love a world fellas, love a world.

Vanity fair - A stunner you are, a stunner I am in this disco ball of a society. We make it complete, we keep it going even though we are rubber flip flop clad or leather boot clad, sarong clad or micro mini clad, combed our hair less than a month before or curled it to match your dog.

Leaping frogs - Time croaks all the way leaping away from us every time we try to grasp it. It leaves with us nothing but the signs of the love it made to us or the hate it wished for us. Bid farewell and bid it well. It didn't come across you for nothing.

Diamonds in the house - Only a diamond cuts another. Greed is never a friend and never far away. It's with you, around you and sometimes it's on the house. Cheers for the death wish mate.

The crimson tide - Reaching between the legs is quiet a deal. Sometimes, that's all it is. A tide that you ride when you're high, when you're low.

Your life is a million dollar bill. Sometimes you'll be picked up, sometimes you'll fly with the wind, sometimes you'll be trampled hard on and sometimes you'll end up real old money. But you'll always be a million dollar bill. So yes, hell you have nothing to lose.

The sour grape, rape and ape.

The grapes always listen to the ape.

He loves it when they listen to him justifying rape, but it's just so ugly. Most of the grapes smile along. But Sour Grape shows nothing but bitterness and it bothers the Ape.

He has seen nothing but bitterness on Sour Grape. It makes Ape not feel ape-y.

'Sour Grape. I will bother you, because your mere smirk has bothered me.

Tell me Sour Grape, why the face so bitter?'

'Ape from very cold Apeland, everything about you was disgusting from day one. It will be so forever. I will be bitter on you forever.'

'No, no. How can I promote rape that way. I have to! You not looking is an option. An option for the other grapes to follow suite. I'll lose it; this rape adoring nation I'm building!'

'Yes, and you can go back to Apeland where you will freeze your furry arse to death. My Grapeland has treated you very exquisitely hasn't it? And you mock us with nothing but allowing rape?

Rape our beliefs you say? rape our sense of values you say? rape our need of effort you say? Rape the long tough way to life you say?'

'Well it works. You grapes like it nice and slow.'

'Well then, I will continue. I will continue disliking rape and you. Every day my bitter face will bother you. I will keep my bitter face on for as long as I will be seeing you.'

'Sour Grape, I'LL DESTROY YOU. YOU WILL REAP NO MORE. NO MORE THOUGH YOU HARVEST MUCH!'

'I will harvest, I will harvest for my many wine dreams. I will never let them be your urine dreams.

And I will reap. When you are gone I'll reap. After all your nothing but an ape in my life.'

So Sour Grape left Ape who ran around, jumped up and down, twirling his frisky fancy white tail raping the Grapeland about how bitter Sour grape is, while Sour Grape started harvesting all over again on her many colored wine dreams..............

Because as Sour Grape said, after all, he is nothing but an ape in her life.