I'm worse at what I do best

Another cold shoulder is just what I need. What can I say? Facing it is what I'm good at.

But show me kindness and I'd just crumble into sea foam and salty tears.

And for this gift I feel blessed.

For the March(ing) Boy

"How is it going with her? Made it official yet?"

"Nah. Relationship status is merely a status."

"So the important thing is something else?"

"Yeah."

Now -that- is my brother. He seems to understand 'the thing'. Nineteen years old, and quite a fine young man he's turning into, bit by bit.

Happy birthday, brother dear. Lots of love, luck and blessing in your life and may there be nothing to cast dark shadow on it.

Quite a motivation I got from that short phone call. Managed to work until three just now (still on '40 days art school without coffee' vow) and now i really need to sleep.

Nights!

On A Great Tribute to the Royal Dance

In the end, maybe I'm indeed just a feather in the air. But I'd say the feather has been doing things during its fleeting flight. This is an unsung story.

Well, objectively,

at the very least, you're no longer cramming it all in a single basket - yours. That's a huge improvement, all things considered.

Alright. I accept.


Ps: partly also because I'm relieved it's not because of something I've missed recently. In case anyone's interested, one hypothesis I had was I've accidentally and unknowingly stepped on a phone or something. As for the other part, let's say that's simply irrelevant to the title of this post.

The house of secrets is an organised chaos.

It's not a simple onion arrangement. Different files go to different individual segments. Some are guarded more fiercely from one whilst they can become an almost trivial matter in the face of others. And vice versa. Bluffs exist. So do ones with ultra level security, however rare and far in between they are. This beautiful mess exists in the garden of everything.

Puzzle solved. Spare me from these riddles for once and let me rest. Good night.

When things get bad

When things get bad and milk turns sour,
friends get busy and some are lost.
Promises are broken, words vaporise,
pillars crumble and skeleton stabs back.

Ink dries up and tears too,
feet feel sore and your heart too,
each shoulders turn cold,
each breaths turn to snorts.

Scratches turn to grazes,
wounds are stretched open.
When spits turns acidic,
curses are veiled with gothic lace
laced with poison.

When night falls and moon vanishes,
stars are shot, planes are landed,
farewell are said, strangers no more.
"Good Night"s are exchanged, then
hope is reborn. We carry on.

Check, mate.

Cumberbatch after a car hijacking: "He worried he might just 'shrivel up into a shell and not want to be part of the world.' Instead he woke up the next morning, had a beer and a cigarette, and says he thought, "I want to be part of this. I want to go out and swim and run through the sand dunes and into the landscape. It was a small event in a big country.'"

Small event in a big country.

Small unpleasantness with one individual from a large pool of people.

Made myself a warm tea with milk and generous amount of honey, and then went on to device new plans for some collaborative projects - stuffs that I planned to do yesterday. Check, mate.

And buying good reading materials proved to be a bloody wise investment. Again.

Once a band geek...

(After all this time?)

"Always."

After all, I have to thank that era for a lot of things - a decent sense of rhythm, for instance.

March on, March boy

Saw the pictures and all. My baby bro is a marching band field commander. :') dammit I should've flown home to watch 

So a week or two ago, a good friend of mine introduced me to this seemingly-trending mobile game. And, bam - what we got here - my former marching band adopted that game as their nation-wide percussion competition's theme. And they - in both the march and the drum-line - did quite well, I gather. dammit I should've flown home to watch 

One by one, your former dreams got realised. The sights you've been wanting to see. The joy. The pride. The rush and the moment he took those steps forward, while having fun all the way. I'm so proud of you - what else can I say?

dammit I should've flown home to watch. 

Amen to that

When the metal wire finally snapped, lashed and left those lacerations behind, I didn't really expect anything to break my fall. Except there were - those entangled cotton strings. A safety net that stretched in various degrees upon impact, but did not break altogether.

Duality

"And yet, that doesn't mean my gay disposition during the day is any less genuine. During the day, the circle of life rises and at night, the cradle of death. Does it make any of them not real? Remember that it takes many selves to make a person, even when they're at odds with each other.

I am living my life to the fullest, only that doesn't negate a fact that something is still missing and I'm very well aware of it. My life is pretty much imperfect, yes, only that doesn't stop me from enjoying it. Being human means you constantly try to find your happiness, even in the world that hates it."

Sky Sky Sky

So I attempted digital painting for a 3 hour speed painting challenge. Finished it under 2.1 hours and still managed to fail the challenge with a prolonged dinner, a hunt for my sore throat medication and a fantastically laggy computer and internet connection.

Anyway, this pic has nowhere to go so might as well leaving it here.

A new common cause has appeared.

So at the end of today's (Saturday) mass, my parish announced that they're planning to build a new church because ours is getting quite... overloaded. The traffic congestions we are causing are, at least.

They've found a nice piece of land in a nice area. They've settled some kind of deal. They still need a LOT of money to really buy it though, but our dear parish priest holds a vehement belief that our people will be generous enough to make it possible. (So passionate was he in convincing himself us that he actually slammed the podium while saying so. Gotta love our parish pastor. And his Dutch+Sundanese accent. Always.)

He also mentioned that the real challenge lies in the, of course, bureaucratic stuffs. Even he admitted that this one may be the most problematic of all (and that really says something, considering how.. fascinating our fund collection can be).

Nevertheless, there's only one thing we, as a parish, can do for that one : to quote him,

"BERDOALAH." End quote.

:/

Fascinating stuffs

It's a small world.

It's a big world.

It's a cramped world.

It's a lonely world.

It's a happy world.

It's a sad world.

It's a boring world.

It's a complicated world.

Such a feat it is to love it still. It's so easy to hate yet it's somewhat adorable.
How wonderful.

That wasn't a battle...

..that was assisted suicide.