Beauty of the Unseen

  Today I feel like living the half-hour moment I had in Secondary One which happened four years ago. The first time I was exposed to true poetry, I became... Fascinated. Then I wanted to try writing some poetry of my own. I ain't decent a poet, though I usually try to hide the message behind every words used in the poem. Poetry once inspired me to try songwriting too. I don't have the time and talent for all these though...

  The word 'unseen' sounds pretty bad-ass to me. I had always thought 'unseen' only refers to those  tiny portions of art taken out of an entire storybook. A prose. Then time answered to me. It said, "Anything you have never seen before is 'unseen'." Well, You don't say?

  Alright, getting to the point: I wanna try posting a short (hopefully it is) poem. Here. In this blog. Hope I can at least get a passing grade for this standard :P

  Perhaps some of you can assume I am dedicating this to someone. Why, sure, go ahead. Since I'm just spontaneously coming out with a poetry out of fun. And by the way, although this is in fact original, I don't mind if it is passed on by someone else. I don't really care about credits anyways...

I closed my eyes

to the night,

and see some things

my heart, throbbing

Within the beauty of black

Flowing colors lied with zeal

The feel they seal

Yet it felt so real!

Dusk

Forever did it last

Shadowy skyscrapers

thousands of yellow eyes

at me each eye glimmers

In soft breeze, my breath was ice

Way below, many a light

Sliding left, sliding right

Many ants, each had a torch

A territory they search

In a Ballroom, the air was warm

Sipping champagne while some laughed

Alien conversations

filled the room

Soon my head whirled

hazy motions

I retreated

To a sky-park

Thinking it empty

But I wasn't alone

The maiden

I know yet I don't

With a friend or two

I felt burden

Then her friends left us

Alone

Comfort and Fear

Like Relief Within Danger

She was so Near

  A Drama

She spoke softly, I did the same

I felt her breath on my skin

Gentler than the breeze

My heart slowly sunk in

As her arms wrapped around me

Ready for the moment

Then I opened my eyes

to the light

and see some things

Heat wavering

If only it was true.

If only it mean

Something new

Beauty of the Unseen

  The "I" isn't me and I never had a dream like that, okay? I shall reiterate that I did this solely out of amusement. Sure, it is her (Not the one in the poem) birthday today, so many reckon I am dedicating this to her. Nah...

Somebody... I... Know.

  Anyone know who is that "Somebody That I Used To Know"? Those who know, do you listen to the song? It pretty much describes some of your past relationships. People who concentrate better with music, it just makes things better for you; Unless the person still mean more than a lot to your life, just let the hurt go, and move on.

  However, that ain't the thing I am gonna do. I am pretty used to this way of life; becoming stronger and stronger as the pain also gets stronger, while looking forward to a time where everything will become better one day. Just now, when I was doing my chores at home, I thought some music could make the chores easier for me, as well as keep track of how long for each chore. Since the first song when I shuffled my playlist is "Somebody That I Used To Know" by Gotye, the thought just racked up in my mind. Then I thought of this.

  I am certainly looking forward to the chalet which will come in a week. There were totally no visions in my dreams of any catastrophe that would come any time soon. I also don't believe anything bad would even happen to us on that day, let alone thinking about a specific one to come... Okay. Maybe there is one which isn't a catastrophe, but a dilemma: What if I wasn't careful during the chalet, and did something foolish as to spout vulgarities and haunt words? It is the seventh month in our Lunar calender; every night, we are never alone...

  I cannot not remember that tomorrow is the birthday of a friend of mine. A friend whom we first met six years ago. Sometimes, what I think, but refuse to believe, is that she treats me like a stranger, and I feel so wrong. Tomorrow is her birthday, and I can do nothing but accept the fact that I can do nothing else but feel rejection, since she neither like nor comment on the only thing I can do on that day, which is posting "Happy Birthday" on her wall. Sure, this thing seems like nothing to all of you; It's just me. I just cannot help but feel bad. What people call as being "sensitive". I'll probably feel nothing but guilt for today, tomorrow and the day after. I don't think I want any comfort though... When this happens, it might be best if I am the person to get me back up my feet... Well, maybe one thing I could do is to present what I actually got yesterday for her birthday to her some time later, should we meet again the next time.

  I am once again in a dilemma. The thing about giving something for someone's birthday is the thought, right? But then, most of the time, it is about what it actually is, not just the thought. I am not going to say what the thing is, but I can assure you guys that it definitely is within my budget. I am starting to fear if giving it to her would be a mistake...

  Sigh... I guess I gave you guys too many hints... Yes. I do have feeling for her. That is number one. Number two, I have a 'soft' spot for this kind of stuff. You can call me a 'coward' all you want. This is the only thing which will make me feel really insecure towards... Everything. Social life, good grades, body-building, fitness, willpower, everything. When the thought appears in my mind (and this isn't the only torment), I would really feel like wrapping myself in my quilt and practically 'conceal' myself from society; the outside world.

  The other thing that causes me to want to do this is a past wound which I would sometimes curiously rub my hand against it. Like masochism. I would sometimes feel somewhat better when I do this, yet at the cost of becoming avoidant. The past wound is one which apparently only one person knows about it, if not two. No more. It is quite like the thorn of a rose, not the flower itself. I would have the belief that, "Hey, this sharp thing belongs to something beautiful!". Then I would touch it with the illusion of touching the flower of a rose.

  Well... At least I feel somewhat better now that I shared a few thoughts of mine... Maybe later I could go for an evening jog(Then sprint, then stride) in the nearby stadium if it is still open to public. Gotta possess myself with the spirit of running and use up my strength. That could maybe exhaust me so that I can feel physical exhaustion rather than emotional exhaustion. The latter hurts more, you know...