Fated Love

    Just watched a Korean movie (won't give the name to avoid spoiling it for those who might see it) that involved two star crossed lovers who, in my opinion, defied fate, and forced themselves together. They started off as both guys, but A couldn't handle the pressure from people and broke it off. B was so distraught, and after a lot of in betweens - involving him joining the army, getting raped several times cause he was super girly - he had a sex change and became woman (the woman that acted as him was too gorgeous by the way). However, a series of murders ensued - involving those who had raped B, and B became the suspect. A, now a cop, began searching for B. When he found him, now her, B turned out to be his current girlfriend. So even now that A and B were okay in the eyes of everyone, they still couldn't be together because B was now a 'murderer' (though whether or not he was the true killer in the end still remains a mystery. The movie ends rather ambiguously, and the jury is still out on that matter). Rather than get caught by the police - B for 'murder' and A for both aiding and abetting and, as it turns out, murder (he killed the last of the rapists) - the two did the ever famous Shinju or 'Lover's Suicide'. 

    I know the story is rather confusing, but its not so complex in the actual film. Anyway, this got mi thinking about the cycle of love. What kind of force, so powerful, it drives one to defy all grounds, including fate, for another?? As both guys, they could not be together because it is 'immoral'. I am not going to comment on the issue of homosexuality before this turns into a verbal war, but I think its so sad they had to be persecuted simply because they chose to 'love' each other. 

Then B went as far as becoming female just to stop the persecution. Fate, however, was not on their side. B had to have gotten raped prior, and was now the suspect of the murders A was investigating. Once more, in the eyes of society, their 'love' was immoral. And so the two chose to die together. 

    It seemed to mi their 'love' was originally not written in the stars. yet they believed in this 'love' so much so that the chose to die together rather than live apart. So I ask, this force called 'love', why is it worth so much, than one would chose the unknown in death, over an existence save 'love'?? Many people would say I have never been in 'love' so I won't know. Granted I did come close to it once, and that hurt like hell. Why would I then go so far for something that seems to mi, from several indications, to hurt more often than not?? They say when you find 'true love', you are happiest. But from what I've seen, the quest to find 'true love' is like playing the lottery. 99% of the time you don't get lucky, and you get broker and broker as the game goes on. Yet you continue to play in the hope that the next one is the right one. Can't that be classified as a senseless battle??

    Granted, it can be argued that finding 'true love' is a risk, like playing the lottery is a risk, and whats life without risks?? But not all risks are so heart wrenching. Fine, the really good things in life are the onces you have to take the bigger risk for....but at the same time, the damage you get from 'love' seems more deadly than that from other risks, as well as less worth the possible benefit....

But then again, everyone might be right in saying I won't know till I am in the same position. 

One Night Only

I met this guy,
He was cute, different, funny and not my type.
He loved another and thought I did too.
Which was fine cus I found it funny.
We laughed, we played, we hugged, he kissed,
And with the morning light, he was gone again.


We both said it won't work out.
We both said in a different life it might have been fun.
We both said we were both perfect.
We both knew not for each other.
We both agreed to go our separate ways.


But I did laugh while I was with him.
But I did say my mind with him.
But I did feel like we were on the same plane.
But I did help him with his problems as well.
And I did love him for one night only. 

....From The Eyes Of The Beheld....

When you adore something, you watch it.
You don't touch it.
You don't touch it for you fear that then it would be contaminated. No longer pure, no longer the beauty that you behold. You would be contaminating it with the essence of yourself. The essence that makes you thus unworthy, thus impure, thus a simple guardian.
You understand this, you accept this.
But then disaster strikes.
Now that which you adore so is in shambles. You watch as the pieces gather together. Holding on to each other to soothe the ache that they each share. The common ache that you all share, though yours is well masked, well hidden.
You watch the bond and once again, it's painfully clear. Your heart is hurt cause you watch that which you adore stand before you, its pieces holding on together to comfort itself. To become stronger.
Suddenly, it becomes even more painfully obvious, your position. You are merely an observer to them. A visitor, charming nonetheless, but still a visitor. One with a mere interest in what that which you adore are, but not one that can feel or understand like them. You are automatically tagged, along with the rest of the outsiders, as one with sympathy, but incapable of empathy.
Tragic loss.
Now you have two kinds of pain to deal with. The pain of watching your beloved hurt in a way you could never have wished upon your own daemons. The pain of being all but ostracized as an outsider by the same beloved: Kept so close but yet so far, stuck between being one and being none. An empath to your degree, it hurts more.
You close your eyes, and the eery all too familiar echo of silence engulfs you. Not the silence of peace, but that which echos with lonesomeness. That which is plagued by the every living fact that awake or in sleep, remains eternal.
It's sad. Playing the beholder to the beholder to the beheld. The beheld knows not what it does to the other. The beholder cannot help the one between. For as sad as it is to say, the beholder is but one.
So to soothe yourself, you dive into the fantasies. The loves, the hopes, the dreams once held, all fulfilled. For a time, the ache is pacified, the loneliness is sated. And like a drug, the effect soon wears out, leaving you aching till the next dose.

If you understand any of this, then congratulations. You have become a beholder; seeing what no other has been able to do before - see from the eyes of the one in between....

Reservoir Chronicles: The Real Mi

"Let me tell you about Mi" she said....

....I chase after something that I myself do not know....

....I have the ability to kill, and I know it....

....Everything about life is a game to me, you loose some, you win some....

....I like good boys because its a puzzle finding whats bad about them....

....I hate self sacrifice....

....I smile as a reaction to all things, no emotional change....

"Let me tell you about Mi" she said....

....There is someplace I want to be, though I don't know where....

....I hate it when people make a completely false image about me to me....

....I love boys because they are more complicated and fun to pick apart....

....I would go with you to any length, simply to see how far you would go....

....I don't like girls partly because I am one....

...I want someone to understand me, yet I don't want to tell anyone about me....

....I love fast things....

....I love 'happily-ever-afters' in others...

....I want someone to tell us apart, yet I don't want to give any hints....

....And as I stared and listened to her, I wanted to say....

There is a fire in your eyes,

and it flashes through your smile.

There is a radiance that i know only comes with my glow.

There is a reason that I'm here,

And its something that I fear,

We refuse to release the other,

And there in lies the problem.

The Illusion before you,

Is a mere shadow of what lies beneath.

The face you see,

Is a mere representation of what side it holds.

The voice you hear,

Is a mere cover for the true tales it tells.

The smile you behold,

is never loyal to one emotion.

Would you like to see the real Mi??

As would I.

Diabolical lover

In the wake of the night,
I saw.
The shadows illuminated my room’s sky,
Forcing my unwavering attention.
The soft fiery glow warmed my cheeks,
Yet I knew for a fact one touch would scourge.
Like the ever living fires of Hades.


He came to me.
In sleep or dream I do not know,
But he came.
The skies became the baby blue of dawn,
Yet he glowed and smelt as the twilight.


Gentle kisses he placed,
And I felt them like rain droplets.
Yet I did not touch him.
Plead and cajole he tried, Immortal none the less; I refused.
Relishing the power.


His eyes now grey,
I fear a storm cometh.
He placed a hand on my chest.
I shivered.
His hands burned and cooled as they moved.
A sensation I did not know to scream from or weep with joy.


He kissed me,
I tasted his lips.
He tasted of the sea, the dead sea.
My eyes flew open, the cock crowed.
It was morning on earth.


Night and day he torments me.
Leading mi up the torturous pleasures of ecstasy,
Only to leave me hanging at death's door.


Yet day and night I long for him.
Like the sex craved drug addict he turned me into.
Sodom and Gomorrah had the right idea I wish to say,
For he alone would drive me insane.

The Art of Boredom

The definition of boredom would be Mi, at this moment, sitting in an office space by myself with nothing to do. This is not meant to be the case though. And while I sit here pondering if I should be joyful or sad that my participants did not show up, I am also plagued with the ever living nightmare that this is just a glimpse into the everyday cycle of some people, i.e. 9-5ers, and I'm further reminded that there is no way in hell I would survive in their world. At least retaining my sanity.

Sometime soon, I am going to need to find a permanent solution to this seemingly life halting problem that plagues my 'daymeres' ever so often. But for now, my next participant is here, Thankest God, so I have to go work.

....In the Silence....

Engulfed.
In the cone of silence,
She alone hears him.
Calling.
He is back....
Or maybe he never left.

Louder.
His colors bold as ever,
She alone can see them.
Bleeding.
He cuts her....
Or maybe the old wound reopened.

Mesmerized.
Trapped in his cold embrace,
Silent tears fall from her.
Mirrors.
He loves her....
Or maybe she hallucinates.

You.
Another walks in,
Silent tears like hers.
She hates him; She loves him.
For he is she, she is he.

Help.
She wants to scream,
No sound is heard.
In the still silence,
He alone hears her.
You alone understands her.
Neither of help to her.

She hears it,
She feels it,
She understands it.
That thing that fills the empty core,
Yet still leaves it empty.

Japan 2010 Slide

Okay I know I have been really bad with communication and uploading pictures, and I truly am sorry for all that (lol) please forgive mi. Now that that is cleared, in the hope that this would atone for some of my sins, I have put together a short slide show of my stay in Japan so far. You know I do not do this....ever....so pls think about all the time and effort I put into this and do forgive okay? (Yes the last line was to someone in particular....><)

As much fun as I had putting this together, I figured you would know that mi writing the names of the people in the slides was as good as mi showing up at your door step right now, not gonna happen, sorry! But still, here is a little bit of what I have been doing in Japan so far. As for the others from this half, you would have to wait till I return :)

Enjoy the video and feel free to leave comments at the end, always welcome....

A Lover's Prayer

I do not want to be loved by you till insanity,

Because when I make a mistake,

I am treated by the insane psychopath that

Your love has made you become.

I do not want to have you sacrifice all for mi,

Because then you would demand I give you my all,

And when I cannot because I am human and selfish,

Hell comes asunder.

I do not want to be thought of by you constantly,

Because then you become controlling,

And when I try to plan a surprise for you,

I could get shot for cheating because I can't tell you where I am.

Love mi if you must love mi, But love Him more.

Sacrifice for mi when you must sacrifice, But always for Him more.

Think of mi enough to make mi smile, But have Him in your thoughts more.

For if I do the same, we would have just the right amount to make our cup full....

Sleeping Fairy

'I want to see you tomorrow'. I reread that text.
Over and Over, Over and Over....
I close my eyes. Maybe sleep will come.
I open my eyes.
Ahh, tomorrow is here. I glance at the clock.
11:30pm.
How can the tomorrow I always dread seem so far away all of a sudden? How can it be that only 3 hours have passed since I went to sleep?
I have never waited for a day for so long. My heart throbs with anticipation and fear.
I want to see him. I want to see him now.
I am scared to see him. What does he have to say? What does he want to tell mi so earnestly by that fountain. I am scared it might not be what I want to hear. But I want to see him.
There is no sense in this. Waiting? There is no reason for all that.
I get off my bed and change.
"I'll come over in 10mins" is the text I sent him.
I change faster than I have ever before and run down the stairs.
My heart racing, My mind in a fog.
What do I say when I show up? I couldn't wait? I wanted to see you now? Too cheesy?
"Hika you up?" My mother says as I get down.
"Yes, I couldn't sleep. Want to go out for a bit" I respond.
She laughs.
"Couldn't sleep? Huni its 11:50pm."
I look at her quizzically.
"You've been asleep the whole day! I was getting worried...."
Her voice trails off....now what do I say when I do see him....

This is art: The world would know

Art is the voice of the soul.
The only way the world can hear it. When the soul weeps, the world hears it in the art. When the soul is joyful, the world hears it in the art. And when the soul is lonely, the world hears it in the art. Its funny how hard the artist tries to fake a forever joyful emotion, but once the art is displayed, the world can tell. The words, the colors, the sound, the notes, the shape, scene....the world can tell.

The world would know.
Art cant hide the pain, art cant hide the joy. Art cant play 'fake', art cant be 'fake', the world would know. The artist has his emotions out on sale and the world buys it. Sometimes cheap, sometimes at a price, but it always buys it. The artist loves the art, the artist hates the art. The world might kill the art, the world might give it life. Whatever the world chooses, a piece of the artist is taken. A pound of flesh for each piece...
This is the art: The world would know...