Just a Plea

I know I can't stay here forever,
Someday our party ends,
There ain't no dance that last a lifetime,
There ain't no footsteps on the sands.

I know I can't be drunk forever
Someday the smoke will clear,
There ain't no hurt that last a lifetime,
There ain't no sadness to remember.

I know I won't be alive forever,
Someday I'll part with a plea,
Though the dance don't last a lifetime,
Maybe someday you'll remember me.

Proseac: My eulogy?

Uno Silencio y Uno Grito

Listen to the silence, it is but one more sigh to a scream.

The Valentine Cliche

Bouquet of flowers;
Box of chocolates;
Candlelight dinner;
Sappy love-songs;
Love themed movies;
Romantic beach walks;
Hugs and kisses.

Celebrating a day for lovers and romance, we also mourn at the funeral of creativity.

Proseac: I just have this way of making everything look bleak. Ahhh.... fuggit.

Looking for A Female Contributor

I am extending an invitation to a fellow blogger to contribute into this little depressing space. I've kind of figured that I want to do this for a couple of reasons namely:
1) I've figured it is kind of hard to get any sort of continuity with my spasmodemic updating of the blog. Two minds contributing should roll the blog along at an acceptable rate of sorts.
2) I am conducting this experiment just to wonder if there is a kindred spirit out there in cyberspace somewhere that is actually able to share my mind's wave length and thus contribute to this blog
3) I have decided I want a female contributor because I think it will ultimately balance stuff out. Think of it as getting two sides of the story.
4) Dialogues are more fun than monologues.

Now down to my requirements of the candidate.
1) People who know me in person or know me in my alter-ego form need not apply. I am thinking of this as an anonymous blogging experience. Blogging with people I know somehow kills the experience. You know what I mean.
2) I want people to write stuff in ENGLISH. People who write in English variants like 'Singlish' or 'Maglish' need not apply.
3) Please don't try to 'brighten' up the blog. I like this blog as it is, as an indulgent space for the darker things in life. Think of this place as a place where people will come to for inspiration to sorrow, pain, morbid and alternative intellectualism.
4) Don't treat the blog like a diary. I don't think this is the place for people to read about what I've shopped for today, what I had for lunch and who do I know. I certainly don't want to know what happened to the neighbours dog yesterday too. As you can see, it is not really relevant here.
5) I welcome muses, proses, short stories, poems, literature and stuff like that. Personal experiences and afterthoughts are nice too.Be really dreamy and creative with expression and mood play. That is the essence of this blog.
6) This is a blog. Not a photo-log. Remember that.
7) Not all your writing needs to be sad and morbid and painful. Bittersweet entries are fine.
8) Don't involve the blog in politics or current affairs. There are enough of those out there as it is already.
9) You can be dirty in your contributions. Explicit language is fine. Just bear in mind to use it with taste. Remember, the only difference between 'The Birth of Venus' and 'Jenna Jameson XXX' is in it's expression as an art form.
10) Any and all names and characters mentioned on the blog are fictional. Keep it that way.
11) You may be confrontational, but never offensive.
12) Finally, I value all intellectual and creative property. Be original in your creations and don't plagiarize. Please.

I seriously wonder who in the world out there will share this with me. Ah well, gotta try anyway. Interested contributors, just drop me a mail at asketx(at)gmail.com

That Toilet Moment

I wonder sometimes, is it just me or does that toilet moment happen to everyone?

Ever tried holding your piss or bowels in and enduring the agony for long long long moments? The tingling sensation of things arriving at the border. Holding it in cause the toilet is just around the corner and you keep on telling yourself, 'It is just a little bit more, a tiny little bit more!!'
Your face goes blue. The breathing gets rapid. The little hairs on the back of your neck starts standing up as you shiver.
So off you go running as fast as you can as soon as you hit home, racing to the toilet while trying to unbutton your pants at the same time.
Finally, you arrive at the toilet bowl. Staring at it, all your motor functions go limp as you whip out your tools as fast as possible. For that one instant in time in the presence of the almighty toilet bowl, you cannot seem to hold it in just for a couple of seconds more, in spite of the hours you've been holding it in up till this point.
Pathetically you leave a huge mess behind.

Piss, crap and all. It must be some sort of strange magic at work there.

Its not all that bad though. Savour that exhilarating moment of relief. It sure beats orgasm of any kind in my opinion.

My Blender Metaphor

I remember giving out advice to a friend of mine once. We kind of got into that conversation out of the blue. He was none too happy with the way he had with the people around him. It seemed like he was dropping out of relationships with girls and losing friends faster than a can of Bygon can make the flies go bygone. The good thing for him was that his career was on the pick up. You win some, you lose some, most might say.

So we were just hanging around having a casual conversation over a cuppa when out of my mind came something that I think made a lot of sense but somehow eluded me all that while.

I think it is funny how books and people tell you to partition your time and get organized. Decide how much time we want to do what and spend time with the people that we care about and doing the things we need to do. Having it mapped out like clockwork and sticking to it like mechanical is the essence to success in all aspects of life.

Strangely, I didn't exactly agree with what books and people are saying. More to the point, I think the instructions were a bit misleading. See, I do agree strategic division of time and devotion to our different aspects of life is a good thing. It is the right way to move forward. Can't move forward unless we're all organized right?

The problem is, most people follow that advice without really getting the right pictures in their head. Most think that their time is like a pie, or a cake.
Take a knife!
Cut it up and divide!
Partition. Keep it all like clockwork.
Follow like machines!

That is where the problems lie. We start getting so effecient, we either start to hate what we do or the people we know start to hate us for what we do. Either way, it is really back to the starting point.

I think most people miss the key message. It is really not so much about the division, it all has got to do with the proportion. Don't divide and partition time. Proportion time! Think of it of like making a martini. If you will only make a glass of martini. How much vodka versus how much vermouth versus how much ice ultimately gives you how good or how crap a martini you end up with.

So I suppose the books and people with the wise advice were right in some sense. They were correct in a way, to tell you to partition your time. The only problem is, we would've ended up with too many pieces of cakes to juggle. The cake would've been too disjointed. It's so much easier if we had all those proportioned pieces back in one cake.

Well my guess is, for all the wise advice, they simply forgot to tell you to put your divided pieces in a blender.

Masks

Masks have a strange strange power over people.

It is either that or most people simply don't like being themselves most of the time.

Putting on a mask puts us in a state of uninhibitation. The mask is that last bastion of security between our inner selves and the wild wild world out there. We will dare to do things that we will never ever of have done. Say things that we will never ever of have said. From the most outrageous to the most insane to the utmost depraved even.

Of course I've thought that the explanation was simple.

People simply just don't want to be recognized for doing things that they shoudn't of have done.
That explains the bank robbers in balaclavas and the convicted felons with paperbags over their heads.
But the mask goes way beyond that.
People don masks and achieve a different state of consciousness. Maybe its a point of contact to our inner self. We play out the role that we really want to be under the shroud of the mask. We play the hero. We play the villain. We are the animals. We are the hunt. We are who we want and are not to be. A being with no readable emotions. An automaton. We become the life
of our masks.
As we go through life. Think about it. How many times have we rejected our true selves just to give life to this mask that we force ourselves to wear? The facade. The masquerade. The deceit.
Underneath it all there is only one truth.
We simply want to be discovered.

And We Drown

As the water closes above our heads
And the icy grip of death pierce us
We stare at mortality in its face
We fear
We tremble

Breath by breath
The air thins and disappears
The beginning of our fade to black

Slowly the fear is overcome
The comfort sinks into me
The image of your courage and love
The picture to my grave I carry

With you in my deep embrace
The grip of death slowly released

Still we let the water wash over our heads
And we let aqua close us in
Baptize our journey
And drift us far away