Anticipation of the new year.

I thought I found love. Gave my all and failed. Experienced surviving a heartbreak.
My brothers stuck it through with me. Encouraged me..... In their own way of course.
Conquered the As although not as well as I expected. Results pending....
Lost someone that I dearly loved. My heart bled.

I emerged from 2011 as a totally changed person. Humbled. Troubled.
And tonight....Wasted ;)



Out with the old and in with the new !

-Zarae.PassingOfANewAge.OnwardsToTheNewWorld.

End of the road

Recent events had led to me believe that the world is not as kind as it seems.

Where people see opportunities, I see dead ends.

-Zarae.NeverWinter.

Running away from hell and fire.

It's decided then. That if the chance ever arises, I would definitely take it without hesitation, at this very moment anyways; A ticket to leave this insufferable place. I hate the people here, the stifling humidity and not to mention the lack of appreciation for my talents.

London at first glance would be an ideal place to start. If that is, the discriminations would ever be erased along with the stereotypes and racism. Okay. Maybe stereotypes can stay, 'cause they're fun. But the coloured lens of racism must go, for they are downright despicable and irritable.

I wonder sometimes if I was ever as annoying as my brothers. Immature...yes... but forced to grow up quickly nonetheless. Much more quickly than they'll ever need to. Disgusting little buggers, they. Imbeciles in their own arrogant rights. Fools that fail to envision their incurable disease,which is being retarded. The foreseen outcome, a degenerative spiral downwards that will soon be met with inevitable and devastating demise.

It is no doubt imperative that I must shake them from their cotton candy cloud 9 but alas, I've grown quite weary and frankly irritated at my futile attempts at rehabilitating these worthless pricks.

Perhaps I should leave these imps to their own devilish devices for awhile and focus on my own current well-being. Still...It is still infuriating to see. Is it not ?!

The intoxicating smell of rain has once again rekindled my arrogant self. Humility, I keep telling myself, is the only way to prevent my now volatile psyche from erupting in a violent vehemence.

-Zarae.Kindle.TwigsThatFeedTheFlames.

Tears

I always thought myself to be strong. Heartless, fearless and emotionless, if need be that is.

And life as always, would, one fine day choose to dispel my long line of self-confident qualities. The slow build up of events that lead up to my catalytic dream last night. Sigh....

Tears. It has been quite some time now. The unrestrained chain of wetness, impervious and immune to all sorts of ebbing control now wet on my pillow. Feelings of old and new resurfacing; the experience vivid and fresh.

Life. It’s a beautiful thing, despite the utter ugliness form of man.

-Zarae.MarsmallowsHeart

Clean slate?!

Malicious. Absolutely distasteful.

Digging his feet into the soft white sand once more, the Prince, a mere shadow of his former self had returned to the island once more. The salty winds blew gently across his face. How he had missed her gentle caress.

The surrounding archipelagos now deserted. His winged comrades each, had long left these desolate islands.  
Isla Dementia. Land of the Dreaded.

He sat there beneath the trio of tall palm trees that have grown majestically during his absence. The sea sprayed tiny droplets of spittle with each crashing wave. Ahh...The nostalgia. He remembered the days, where he would just recline against the bark, sprawled in the shade, and crying his heart out.

If only I could do something about the heat.

-Zarae. TaintedByTheMiasmaOfTime

A drink to death.

1 December 2011
5.30pm

It pains me just to see him lying there. His sickly and weak body just resting there, inhaling deeply, like every breath would be his last. His skin, like wet paper, was covered with bruises, formed from the slightest of trauma.

He was tied down, restraints put in place to keep him from removing the oxygen mask. The sole apparatus that is keeping him alive.
Too weak to breathe let alone talk, yet he was still adamant in taking the mask that obscured his speech. Perhaps he was desperately trying to tell us his last words. His dying will.
He never got to say them.

Nonetheless, the arrests did not prevent him from trying. His skin became torn as a result of his abrasive struggles.

He also drifted in and out of coma. Unable to respond directly but we knew that he could still hear us. His heart rate spiked whenever we called out his name.

公公, 你听得到我吗? 我是国川, 我来看你了.

He passed away 20 minutes ago. After enduring nights from the painful effects of pneumonia, he finally passed on. To a better place my cousin put it.

People will ask if I was close to my grandfather.
My answer regrettably will always be. “Not as close as I wished we were."

The sadness will inevitably pass with time. The memories of him however will not.

And then there will be the hatred for my sorry excuse of a brother. That retarded scumbag had the nerve to continue playing his game instead of informing me of the death of our, correction, my grandfather.

20minutes.
The most regretful 20minutes of my life.

And that brings us here. This hurtful concoction of spite and sorrow.

-Zarae.LetsDrinkToTheDead.

Strong.

I shall strike you down swiftly with all I have.

Yes. You had better start praying to your God for when I'm done with you;
He will no longer recognize you.

-Zarae.MithrilBones

November Crush.

I still sometimes miss the tender familiarity that I so fatuously coveted. Yet all feels different. Perspective it seems.
So I guess its true then. That some things just don't die easily. Then again, Ideas, unlike flesh, is bulletproof.
The teardrops of november shall again fall overhead as we hold each other in loving embrace.

There's no certainty - only opportunity.
-V for Vendetta.

-Zarae. TenderEmbrace.Hisime

Temporal Respites

These few days has been... well irritably disappointing and unproductive, You might have guessed as much since I'm here blogging once again instead of devoting more time to my studies. Taking breaks are important, I guess... but when these respites extend longer than they should, it just leaves me tired, too fatigue to go on. Resting begets further repose. Time spent on meaningless and useless exertions that not only exhaust but also depreciates my already prostrate efforts. Fuck. Physics was a bore. Stupid science subjects. How I wished I had taken up an arts subject like Literature instead.

Now wipe that fucking smile off your face.

-Zarae.SourCreamAndOnion.

When the poet comes to life.

Call me cruel, call me mean.
You're my winter, my heartfelt scene.
Punch me. And I'll bleed.
For despite what I say I am, I'll be just but a kid.

You used to be my warmth, in this never-ending barrage of snow.
You were once my everything, my life and soul.
What a kindred pair we would have been,
Me,the snow; and you, the wind.

-Zarae.WhenThePoetComesTolife.

***

Everybody hurts some days, it's okay to be afraid. -Avril Ramona Lavigne.

A night of thanks and appreciation.

Wearing that pair of dirty old leather loafers had at the very least pruned away at least half of my ego. I guess that's what it is, self-confidence, something that cannot be actually conferred unto by others but must in fact originate from oneself. To feel confident is to feel good about yourself, and tonight, HAHA I sure fucking did.

But I couldn’t help but wonder if this was enough; if I could actually be capable of achieving more than this meagre sum I had on my platter, if I could at least soar high enough to claw at the clouds.

Nonetheless, the walk to collect my certificate had me shake with trepidation and anxiety. Maybe it was the shoes I thought. Ugly shoe would evidently result in shame and humiliation. But alas, the epiphanic moment hit me when my mind was taking a short but necessary respite just before my body hyper-ventilated and the neuron-circuitries began shutting down itself. Yes, the problem had all along been about......

:) To say for the very least, I was, am and still very satisfied with myself.

***

And of course, it goes without saying how fucking beautiful you were tonight~

-Zarae.NightOfAppraisel.

Judas

I was literally hopping with anger when I saw your name on that little white piece of paper. I saw how you were being "rewarded" with the fruits of other people's labour. You, and your sorry excuse of a captain have made me wonder if so much "accomplishments" could be so fucking easily achieved just by backstabbing and betraying.

The lies and tales you spin round and round me. I took you to be a friend. Someone who had the same dreams and goals I had. Turns out you were just using me. You actually managed to use me. Wow. I'm both amazed and disgusted; seeing that I just puked in my own mouth and swallowed it again. Gruesome, but I guess I truly deserved it all. You not only hurt me but you also managed to hurt one of my dearest friends. But after we saw through your deceptive lies, the both of us just can't help but pity you. For what we saw, was nothing but a small man with an even more pretentious and vulgar set of disposition. You are a fool, that's what you are.

So here I am and here I say. Fuck off Iscariot and take your god-forsaken mutinous soul with you.

-Zarae.Amin feuya ten' lle.YouDisgustMe

Shrouded Faces.

All of us have different and numerous masks in which we wear on a daily basis. With some of us doing more so than others. (Fucking backstabbers) And of course we have the retards that just wear everything on their faces, indulging in their own idiotic notions and ideas, not sympathethic to the feelings of others at all.

Yes. There are definitely more than one side to all our personalities. Masks we so often wear becomes what others make of us yet may not really reflect the reality of who we actually are.

***

Tears are often hidden behind smiles,
Just as laughter hides the knife.
The knife that is soon to be plunged into your back.

This week, I'm BlackHeart.

-Zarae.Heartless

Tugging the lion's mane.

Someday I swear, my pride would be my ultimate downfall. And I highly doubt people really understands what pride is to me. If you insult my pride then you had better be prepared to suffer the consequences or... Have a really good pacifying plan.

Perhaps I've really been spoilt to the bones, with material comforts and servants, heck... My whole life have been a giant fairytale, with me being the prince of course. With all the inflated ego and attention given to me; and the oppressed teenage-hood I had further aggravating this problem. Even now, I'm still that naive kid.

Hubris. Once again. My fatal flaw, my achilles heel if you will. My bane and my kryptonite.

***

Lesson learnt. You can never ever ever rely on anyone. You can trust people with all your heart but if you really want things done, you just have to DO IT YOURSELF. 

The sun is shining just as brightly as yesterday which just fucking pisses me off.

Zarae.HubrisAgain.

Short story

'Boom!' The earth around exploded as dirt splattered everywhere. A massive sapphire hand had cratered the ground, the exact spot where the injured Prince was a split second ago. Before the dust clouds could begin to settle, the blue giant regained its fury of assault; flailing its monstrous arm around, every attack inching closer to clipping the Prince.

Marvellous creature this golem. The Prince thought to himself as he admired the cerulean exterior of the creature. The golem was a towering fifteen feet behemoth of pure mineral, undoubtly of sapphire origins as it gave the colossal brute an unnatural azure shine. It was somewhat humanoid in nature, taking the frame of a well built barbarian and despite its size, the Prince soon realised that it was supernaturally quick and amazingly flexible. He shielded himself just in time as a mammoth punch slammed into him. He felt as though the weight of the world had smashed against him, sending him flying for at least half a league and knocking the wind out of him.

Performing a back flip in mid-air, the disorientated Prince was able to land on his feet, skidding some distance along the sandy ground. He was acutely nimble his whole life being part Slyvian but he knew it was going to take him every ounce of Imprerium blood, the other half of his ancestry; that he could muster to slay the wretched golem.

That was close. He thought to himself as he unsheathed the silver dirk he carried with him at all times. N'hrive or Neverwinter as it was called. The passing of ancient blades have always been the tradition of the Slyvian elves just as Imperiuems pass down their regalia and in the Prince’s case, the Domeduathea. NightMask. Both pieces he owned, Regalia and Dirk were not just prized trophies within the families, but in fact legendary artefacts that had their fair share of combat in the darker times. One mind, any weapon, recalling the words of his father.

Flexibility masters hardness, the Prince muttered to himself as he began preparing himself. He steadied his breathing, shifting the weight of his body, priming himself as the enormous monstrosity charged once more as though impervious to the call of fatigue.

Neverwinter glistened in the sun, making as though the Prince wielded a ball of wispy slivery light in his right hand. The golem, a monument of sapphire blue rampaged forward, a wrecking ball promising banal carnage and cataclysmic Armageddon.

-Zarae.