Being human...

Have you ever, at one point in your life, wonder why you became the person you are today?

You ask yourself, what made you have those idealistic philosophies in life that only you hold, and you wonder why you're the only one who thinks that way.

Or you question yourself, what moulded you into this confined persona that distinctively shows that nature of yourself, that no one can argue that you are you, the person you are, and not somebody posing as somebody else.

You ponder on the facts of your genuine self by selectively or randomly pick traits of your personality that connect you to other human beings. And you analyse every single one of them for answers in discovering why are you fucking yourself over, or in other words, why are you repeating the same mistakes you made over-and over again.

Either way, you'll have the same answer for every single of those questions. It's either, you don't know, or you just don't give a flying fuck, or just plain "I'm just being me". And still you'll keep wondering and searching the real answer.

I am no saint, nor am I a genius. I constantly ask myself these questions throughout my whole existence as a human being. And frankly, the most common conclusion that I come up with is I am a moronic, self-righteous, idiotic, lame-ass prick, which I have to admit, is a conclusion that is not gonna do me any good for the long run. I mean, if I want to be deconstructive of myself, I might as well say "Fuck you" everyday in the mirror each morning before I start my day.


Shit...I just did that this morning.

Spoken silence....

Lock doors as if in jail.
Swirl. Wind. Ripped off. Beat up in the past.
All those checked but never thought of changing my name.

Howled at the moon. Wrote poems.
Turn back over flips, flipped over backwards.

In other words, I’ve been confused.
Fucked up, Scared.
Phony, and Odd.
To a whole lot of people.

Haven’t you…?
In one way or another…?


Anybody else wants to cop out…?

It's been a while since I wrote something. Whether it's on a piece a piece of paper or here in my blog, I've been procrastinating in my writing habits. It's been so long, that I just dont want to even give a title to this entry, because I just want to write without overthinking. A title? That's the least of my worries.

I don't know why I havent been writing for a while. Maybe it's the daily workload, or the internet connection or just plain laziness. I can't tell you exactly why, because the fact of the matter is, don't know why either.

But, come to think of it, maybe complacency has crept up in me. Maybe I felt too comfortable with everything, that I thought one or two weeks of no writing sessions is not a big deal. Complacency does that to you sometime. You become so engulfed in your present state or situation, that you just don' t focus enough on the little things that matters.

I just need to get my shit back together. Then, I'll be fine.


Yes, I'll be fine.