Theres no time for us.
There's no place for us.
What is this thing that builds our dreams yet slips away from us.

Who wants to live forever.

There's no chance for us.
It's all decided for us.
This world has only one sweet moment set aside for us.

Who wants to live forever.

Don't you hate it?

I do.

When you have the opportunity to do something profound, something that would change everything, but you find that you don't possess the courage to reach out and do it.

Realise, then, that it's not that you don't have the courage, but you refuse to dig deep enough to find it within yourself. Realise, then, that you are weak.

I'm on an island at a busy intersection.
I can't go forward,
I can't turn back.
Can't see the future,
It's getting away from me.
I just watch the tail lights glowing.
I'm one step closer to... nothing.

I'm hanging out to dry,
With my old clothes.
Finger still red with the prick of the old rose.
Well the heart that hurts,
Is a heart that beats.
Can you hear the drummer slowing?
I'm one step closer to... nothing.

Nope, it Ain't Time Yet

A winter's day,
In a deep and dark December;
I am alone,
Gazing from my window to the streets below
On a freshly fallen shroud of snow.

I've built walls,
A fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.
It's laughter and it's loving I disdain.

Don't talk of love,
Well, I've heard the word before.
It's sleeping in my memory.
I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died.
If I never loved I never would have cried.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

I am shielded in my armor,
And a rock feels no pain;
And an island never cries


Oh no, it isn't. I'm not ready yet.

But when I am, better watch out, 'cos I'm gonna grab the bull by the horns.

At Long Last, Freedom

Now it seems to me, some fine things
Have been laid upon your table
But you only want the ones that you can't get

Desperado, oh, you ain't getting no younger
Your pain and your hunger, they're driving you home
And freedom, oh freedom well, that's just some people talking
Your prison is walking through this world all alone

Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
Come down from your fences, open the gate
It may be raining, but there's a rainbow above you
You better let somebody love you
before it's too late.

The exams may not be over, but the feeling of elation is already in this house. A kind of relief that is palpable. It came when it was least expected.

Small talk. 'Ridiculous.' That word seemed to open a window in my head, letting the sweet zephyrs of euphoria in. Unusual, it's delivery was. Not good news, neither the opposite. More like an unexplainable disgust at myself, and then, like breaking water, pure, untroubled, lightheartedness. Much like having a great load off your shoulders. I'm not thinking right. Even I myself don't know what I'm typing here. It's hard to explain.

Now, in my peculiar form of ecstacy, I found something extremely amusing. I laughed so hard at this.













My god, it's like some insane asylum. One can only guess the unspeakable horrors that take place within the corrugated tin walls. The brave people who enter this ghastly edifice should be honoured.

This is amazing

The Crushed

The dreaded period of examinations exerts a multi-tiered pressure on every individual.

The tepid air in the home puts a force on the shoulders that is akin to having a truck on your back. Worse, it's not helped by the old guys.

Parents somehow grow a fearful paranoia, born of the unknown. They begin to deny every little pleasure one can indulge in. Random excuses would be made to refuse things that would traditionally be customary. At any rate, it borderlines on the giving of permission for involuntary institutionalization.

Maybe its the fear of the bubonic plague.