Hostage

"Rid your craziness, and we have a life long deal," you said and looked serious ever. I felt your insistence, and made my decision to cut every possible loose attachment. I would do this for you, and only you.

It is an ultimate sacrifice to me, when I break intimacy with those women. I will no longer enjoy the flirt, and no longer look for simple lust. If that life long deal means a prison, then I'll be your immate. If you are to kidnap me, then I will be your hostage.

There will be many things that I can't change, but I do my best to comprimise. My freedom and life are trusted in your hand, and now, I want you to do the same.

Continue to mesmerize me with you caring soul. Keep your faith in me when I falter. Carry me when I crumble. Be honest when I am at fault. And love me, as you are now.

And I will say yes to you.

What you see

Light is on my side.

Darkness is on the other side.

I am possessed by good and evil.

I am divided from the middle.

If you hear me crying,

Will you look down on me?

If you see me outraged,

Can you take that calmly?

What if I am sharing and caring?

Is that truly benefiting?

What if I show courage for life?

Will that be inspiring?

What you see of me?

Is it a whole, or just pieces?

What you see of me?

Am I guilty or clean?

Politics

That corpse rolled off the bed into a collection box. Off it went unconsciously and disappeared shortly from our eye sights. The short silence of condolences ended, and chatters resumed. I heard gossips and I heard after life plans. But I didn't hear many good wishes and farewell.

All I heard was politics.

Politics about how much money to be spent. Politics about which relatives shouldn't have said what. All they talked about had little to do with the death, especially the politics of what day should the memorial be.

Politics, it was such a disappointing element of someone's death. It was all about the remaining offsprings, and all about fortune. Dead people couldn't say no to any interpretations or treatments no matter how ridiculous they were. If the dead had known such sacrilege, would they come back to life and condemn such selfish act?

I would.

Selfish it was. They had to keep the corpse frozen for weeks so the living relatives could avoid retributions and make lots of money. Silliness it was. disgrace it was. Politics it was. I would vomit over the ideas and thoughts, and I nearly broke down and faint. Looked at the body-carrying box, I wished for no more torment from the living.

No more politics.

Happy Ever After

Walking up the stairs, Spence was so unwilling that each step took him a long while. He dragged his feel slowly as if he had a sprained ankle. He avoided taking the elevator to get to his little apartment quicker. He lagged while cleaning his office desk. Every thing he did, he tried in slow motion just to go home a little later.

He knew, at his house, something was going on. Something he had nothing to do with, and something he wanted zero part of it. Just a little later when the last unknown man rolled off his bed and took a stroll out of his apartment entrance, then he had the courage to walk in.

He would walk it to face his wife - Nicky, someone he met at a dance hall and wedded a year ago.

Many times he thought about breaking in as her wife's old customers were visiting, held a base bat in hands, and beat up each one of them. Not only because he was cowardous, but he was keeping a silly promise to his wife. That vow was made when he asked her to leave the business.

Was it easy to imagine a dance hall with young beautiful women paid to accompany rich men? That was where Nicky worked, and built a little reputation and fan club. Being taken out for escort or love-making was somewhat comment due to her young look, dance skills, and sweetness. That caught Spence's eye when a rich, retired friend and his wife brought him to that place. The two met, danced, and had sex. That was it. That laid the way for Spence's continuous revisits.

Couple years passed, Nicky grew tired of the business and wanted out. That was Spence's chance to kept her on his side. Offering honest love and care that Nicky rarely receive, she moved in with Spence and started a new life but only partially.

Spence was an office worker, not a boss who brought in green and gold for Nicky. Previous, wasteful lifestyle caught up to them, and started to cause problems in their relationship. Even though Nicky offered her sweetness and care to Spence night in and night out, Nicky confessed to Spence that love was not enough. She asked for a separation, but Spence refused to let go, so he decided to make the most regretful decision in his life.

Starting work in the early afternoon, Spence possessed a routine life. He worked late to avoid any confrontation or harsh feeling. Enjoyed Nicky's love and kindness. Made love. Slept. Woke up before noon. Meanwhile, Nicky started her appointment time soon after Spence left the house, and always made sure that Spence didn't come home to see any trance of other men. She made sure that her husband was the last and the most honorable customer of the day.

The truce continued after the surprised wedding. No one truly blessed this marriage, especially ones who had thorough understanding of their relationship.

Believe it or not, the balance had been kept on the thin wire. Many times Spence came home in despair and was on the verge to burn the house down. Nicky could, and always would, calm the poor soul down. The dangeous path they took just continue on and on until someday. That day the story changed. Spence didn't drag his feet up the stairs, didn't avoid to take the elevator, and didn't lag on desk cleaning. He looked less dispppointed than usual. Much to Nicky's surprise, he wasn't all into it when she offered her usual caring.

Then she knew the time of her stay was almost up.

Weeks after he added 'ramming the newly hired office clerk' into his daily routine, he found his house empty as he arrived home. It was empty of that smiley face. It was empty of that caring soul. All there left was a slip of note stating the farewell and best wishes. Spence was stunned to the sudden change. There was a hole in his heart as if it was eaten up when he read Nicky's note. But wasn't sad or afraid. All he felt was guilt and a ounce of happiness.

After a short battle, the resistence of guilt was overwhelmed by the happiness. It didnt take long, because he was finally free.

So was Nicky. The short living guilt of leaving the man who she respected the most disappeared very quick. She'd never lack any company or support at least for awhile. And she never had to feel bonded to a man who can only give her 50% happiness. She was finally free and had control of her life.

The two lived happy ever after.

The Lost Child

Who are you, my lovely child?

Standing naked before the mirror

And staring at imaginary flaws,

You caress in such a gentle touch.

However, you can't recognize.

You look lost. You seem teared

Inside that perfect shell and skull.

Contradiction it is, I thought.

Sanity in you has no sign of life.

Reason is buried under sorrows.

You keep fighting a delusive war,

Against a villain you can't crash.

If one the day you realize,

You can gather the broken shards

Of your own pieces and love

Yourself. Then you won't perish.

No more, please, no more lies

About your maturity and spirit.

It's indifferent. My child, move on.

Find your place and select a role.

Burnt Again

Lighted a cigrette and let it burn. That smoke spiraled in an isolated room. Yes, that silky white stink twisted and filled his room. Limited light source seemed red and dangerous. Reflected on his face as if blood gushed on it. He heard mosquitos' wings flapped. The humming insects wouldn't leave him along.

He didn't light the tobacco to expel them bugs. He did so to watch that white, smokey fibers curled in the dim, red light. He imagined only if they would come back. Only if they would come back and see this despair scene. It would drive them wild and mad. Thought about this and he shivered. His tear dropped in fear. Once a strict, silent old man always taight me valuable lesson by action. Once a wordy yet caring female brought him up. Once an older resemblance of himself always reached him when he was weak. Once a beautiful, smiley youngster made him feel like a resposible man. They've all gone.

They have gone into that corner that he drove them into. The corner that he was sitting beside. He let them watch him dance and circle like a poisonous fume. He put red lights on them to make them feel threatened by his own moves. One after another, criticisms and blames were made. One after another, the passion turned cold. One after another, they became strangers to him and left that room. They left him their along to watch the consequence that he resulted.

It was all too late. "Try not to run away from me, please." He shouted, with a muted voice. But no one answered. Ones who would have answered to his cry were already away, and they have never tried to run. Again and again he betrayed their trusts. Only the red light, the dancing smoke, the cigarette, and the mosquitos were left to accompany him in this room. Though it wouldn't be for long.

He cigarette dropped to the carpetted floor, just like the time before.

Self-Reflection

Unable to go back to sleep, she woke to her nightmare. Leaning against the grave, white wall, she was there murmuring to herself. Oh no, not to herself but her shadows on the wall. Against the shards of light came the shards of shades. On the wall they danced and celebrated. They accompanied this poor woman who was drowning in her own sorrow and horror.

There against the wall she sat. She mumbled dreary and weary thoughts to her friends - her very own broken images. Those were also her, but only in different states. Some were happy, some were caring, some were bitter, and some were sarcastic. But all were there to entertain and to bless her dire existence. Yes, dire I said. The woman whose only friends were her own shadows, could be eerie and unapproachable. Some have doubted her ability to survive in the reality.Yet she has not failed to continue her life. Even though continue to live also represent a continuous struggle internally and externally.

One night she broke down. The shards of light no longer came after her nightmare. And there were no longer shards of shades twisting on the wall. She lost her support, her company. Then she lost her will to live after losing her only friends. She just leaned against the wall in the darkness. This time all by herself.

Shards of glasses have your broken images

Sounds of smashes, cries for crashes,

The blood drips down to the flooring

over your doorway and footprints.

You moan and groan in grave disbelief.

There was a sigh and many screams

Filling your time and space, eating

Your brain and the last bit of sanity.

Everything's gone but your misery.

Oh the pieces and shards have fallen

Before what have you saddened.

You knock on whatever has you beaten,

But only to hurt yourself with .

So mourn and cry, let the tears fly.

But they worth nothing before the lies

That is told to you when the tears dry.

Then you listen, you believe, you try

To restore them glass shards, the pieces

Back together like your broken memories.

But they stab when you reattach the glasses,

And all you see is your own broken images.

If I Drop You

If I ask you to leave,
Does that make me a cruel one?
Even though you can't care enough
To realize your mistakes.
Even though you are the one
Who carries all the faults.
Do anyone understand why I drop you?
Will they eventually know?

I sent you packing
I set you apart.
I sail you away.
I don't want you back,
Even though I'd like to see your face
For one last time.

With you the harmony is out of tune,
No matter how well I play alone.
With you the reasons become illogical,
No matter how much sense I make.
I am just walking around your wreckage,
And picking up pieces of you.
You blew smokes and ashes
Whenever the sky gets clearer.

No more sadness,
No more happiness,
Nothing matters,
because I am free.
I walk alone, I fall alone,
and I care about you no more.

The Sun Will Rise

I..., do not see you
The approaching sunrise
And the white blaze burns.
Just waiting for you.
And do you even realize
The deadly consequences.

You just shove away,
The senses and reasons.
Chasing after blood and joys.
Living for today,
Driven by silent voices,
Play carelessly and aimlessly.

So, you will try to hide,
The end comes at the sunrise.
But where could you make a shelter?
Or.., you choose to die,
Burn to ashes in the daylight.
Be a martyr of forever pleasure.

The black dusts smoke.
Was that what you became?
I just stand, stare, and silence.
The sun just rose.
The forever routine began.
I am indifferent for your vanish

Is this who you are?

Keep silence in the crowd wondering,
Which mask belongs, which smile suits,
The crowd you are indifferently embracing.
Then you put on the make up and fit in.

These are the thoughts that clouds
You every there and every time.
You need the attention of the crowd,
To feel loved and to feel alive.

Your darkness is surpressed and
Threatened into the corner of your heart.
You dare letting it out just when
strange ones are not roaming around.

And it is me who you face without them masks;
Who you dare to put down as your darkness rises.

2 Hours

I walked out of the dark alley, and the rain had come down pouring on me. I was alone, dashing on the sidewalk and passing the bars where many beautiful young girls stood or sat. They were looking for the next spender to take them away from the crowded, alcoholic, and smokey little bars. They were waiting to be taken away to someone's hotel room, and took the money while giving away their right to enjoy love-making. I didn't look too close, and I didn't want to. Two hours inside the dark alley had frozen my brain, and I couldn't come to my senses and reasons every since.



I left my feeling there. I left my love there. That was why I came out of there souless.



Deep in the alley, up after a dark stairway, and in the dark hallway, she greeted me out of the room. She escorted with her hand in mine, and with her face leaned on my shoulder. She walked besides me to the opened door and let go. She waived and smiled. Then I crumbled inside. I realled her question from ealier "are you really gonna packed me up tp go with you"?



"I would if my backpack was big enough". I said, and my words were followed my her laughter. The laughter continued as we talked about our dreams, our life, our family, and our past. She held me closely, and buried my face in her chest. I felt her warmth. I felt her touches all over my body, my face, and my hair. I really wished to have to ability to pack her up and go with me. So I could feel her love and caress her perfectly smooth skin every moment in my life. I wished to have her near me, so she could joke and giggle besides me. Her eyes looked into me, and realized my thought. She realized my wish, and she kissed me. I was worried, she said, I didn't know who was behind the window". I was shocked and asked "you couldn't see the customer" with surprise and sadness. She eyed my emotion and quickly wanted me not to look sad. In the dark room, I have found the most honorable love in the filthiest place one can imagine. Eventually the two-hour was up, and I have no will to part. "You will hold a place in my memory, and I will never forget about you. You said 90% of a man's words are lies, and I have used all 10% of truth for you today". I could see her trembling after my words. She let go of what she was holding temporarily, and came over for a closed embrace. Finally I slowly walked toward the door, and she pulled my hand from behind and kissed me on the lips again. I had a clear look at her face that was filled with appreciation and sadness together. Witnessing this, I went toward her before the door was opened to the dark hallway, and gave her one last kiss on her lips - the smiling lips that blew me away just a little while ago.



A little while ago, shortly after my last tangle with her, she laid awkwardly on my belly and played me. She was so relaxed and bubbly. She talked about her former jobs, and asked me many questions. I was wondering if I was disturbing her clock. "Two hours", she said, "there is a plenty of time left until they knock on the door. Before that knock, I am staying here with you. I like being with you". I pintched and played with her soft and beautiful perks for saying that to me, and she was greatly tickled as she giggled. She smiled at my way of appreciation, and she returned favor with her hands as well. Suddenly she moved. She positioned her face between my thighs, and began slowly slipping her tongue on me. Until that part of me grew big enough, she said "I am not letting go, and I am not stopping at all this time". She then bury me behind her lipsm, and slip up and down slowly. I felt her lips, her tongue, and her throat pushing against me. The stimulation was so high that I started groaning. The little devil then started to turn up her massage, and with every stroke it got faster and harder. I was trying to hold, and try to get myself distracted. But her wild play didn't allow much of that. Finally I coudn't hold back anymore. I exploded all that was left into her. Still she wouldn't let me off the hook that easily. With grunting at its loudest, she was still trying to drain the last drop of me away. Eventually I had nothing left to feed her, and she took the dying me to get cleaned. She washed me gently this time, and then had us dried. "Are you in a rush"? she asked. I gently shook my head, and sat down on the side of the bed. She walked toward me and said "let's talk a little. I wanted you to be with me until the end". Up hearing this I held her and felt her beautiful curves with my hands. I wouldn't want to let go now either. Just like when I first got inside of her moments ago.



The moment part of me was rubber-covered and lubed, she smiled and began to ride on me. I didn't meet with much resistance on my way going inside of her. She was dripping after my finger slipping, and I was an oiled maching thanks to her. On top of me, she shook like a there was no tomorrow. Her moving jugs and curved middle were voilently massaged by my hands. She was in control of me until I could no longer tolerating her on top of me. I sat up and pushed her down. I lifted her long and beautiful legs, so I could get a better penetration. I pounded into her, drilling for more sticky springs. My hands were also searching for a little squeezing and pintching game on her body. I gave all I had to ensure that her moaning was as seductive as it could be. Her fainting cries really hit me hard - so hard that made me decide to take even more command of her. I pulled out, and turned her upside down on the wetted sheet. From behind she took it. From behind I stroke it. She let her fountain drip, and I let me fingers slipped. My inserting stick rolled on and my finger rubbed against her sentitive spot. She curled and wiggled, but I couldn't stop myself from giving her more love. The clashing between she and I was sounding louder in every contact. Until I finally couldn't hold on anymore, she juiced me into the thin plastic that separated us. I laid back and held her in my arms. I kissed her all over to show my appreciation to her until she broke free from me, and cleaned me from my own mess that she helped created. I was really glad that I held on when she first tried to released me, so I could have such a great relief. After the brief cleaning, she came back into my arms letting me play all over her milk chocolate colored skin. "Was I good"? She asked. I reply "You were amazing. You are amazing. I hope everyone will treat you as good as I am. And I will never allow anyone to disrespect or hurt you. Or"! I then stopped. "Or what", she asked with a all-knowing smile. "I will beat them up for you", I said with a laugh. "Oh! How nice of you? Though 90 percent of a man's words are lies, I know," she replied. "I am different", I looked at her gently and emotionally. She seized her talking, and we tangled nakedly. I would never thought to fall in love so easily. I sure didn't think of this when we walked into this room.



After my selection and a short introduction, she took me into one dark room. She began draining hot water into the tub, and pouring in the soap. I was sitting in the corner, and watching her doing her work. A short conversation had me realizing that she was a part time "massage therapist". She was doing this when she had time. She used to be a sales for an international company. She traveled to Japan and China for business, but the pay wasn't much for a little saleswoman. All seemed like a pre-planned story, so I was just listening to her words and replying with my own history. Soon she took off the little things that she wore, and showed her polished skin in front of me. She had a curve of a Greek sculpture. She had milky chocolate skin, wavy long hair, curved buns, and nice little jugs. Her bottom was nicely shaved, and her smile was stunning. She came over to undress me, and touched me while she was removing my clothes. "Beautiful", she said. "So are you," I replied. Then she led me to the tub slowly. I couldn't resist my feeling anymore and grabbed her from behind. I reached her soft peaks, and her wetting valley. I felt her trembles as I hit the spot each time, and was getting more and more excited. She stopped me suddenly, and whispered "come in here, and let me play with you". How could I have said no? I jumped into the heated tub water, and laid down on my back. With soapy water covering me, she began washing me with every inch of her skin. It was the best bath I have ever had as she used her hands, tongue, and bottom lips to brush all over me. She had my blood all rushed to a rising pole. Then she teased and massaged that standing tip with her demonic intend. I had not been touched like this for over ten months, and I almost couldn't hold on to it. She kept wanting to get me juiced, but I refused. I wanted her to save it for later pleasure. Unwillingly she gave up, and pulled me out of the tub. She had me belly down on an air mattress, and started massaging me further with her buns. She was sliding all around my back. I needed this especially after a long day. I began grunting out of pleasure until she flipped me up side down on the mattress. Continuing her sliding, she flattened my standing pole and clamping it between her soaped and wetted bottom lips. She kept rubbing until I begged for a little mercy. With a satisfactory smile, she lifted me up from this pleasuring hell. She spared me from letting all go momentarily, and then washed the soap off me. After some really sensual drying, she put me down on to the bed and continued her effort to vaccum me. She was good at what she was doing, but I continued to fight against her fluting. Pulling out and away from her mesmerizing lips, I tackled her down and spreaded her leg wide. Finally, I had a good view to her shutted flesh. It was beautifully shaven, and amazingly shaped. I slowly opened that nicely closed door, and witnessed some hot juice dripped off. My tongue, like a red snake, moving around and into the cave of dripping springs. I was searching for more to cure my thirst. During my search, she started tickling and twisting. Her light moans wanted to give her more pleasure. So my fingers were joining to make her feel a climax. Inside of her, my bones looked for little bumps - the bumps that stimulate the most for any woman. I found them, and let them feel the wrinkles of my fingers. The frictions of us took her to another level of screaming. She was begging for stop, but I wouldn't let her as she almost successfully exploded me a several time ealier. I moved away my snaking tongue, continued to massage her tightness, and left my hardness next to her thirsty lips. She took that red tip into her, but spitted out when felt any orgasmic shock. Then at a loud cry, she leg muscles tightened, and I knew she reached that heavenly point. She panted and trembled for a little while, then began to take her revenge on me. She pushed me down on the same bed, and whispered "is it time"? I smiled and accepted the challenge. I nodded. I nodded just as when I firsted walked into the dark alley and up the dark stairway a few minutes ago.



I walked into the dark alley, and up the stair cases. I didn't know what to expect. Was it going to be good or bad? I had no idea. All i knew was: it was going to rain soon just like every day else here. It was going to rain big inside and outside. There was no turning back. Upstair some old woman greeted me and rang the girls to go inside the fishbowl. I didn't think too much as I spotted her. I spotted her smile. I spotted her sensuality and kindness. No matter what happened, I decided to give my love to her in the next two hours. So I nodded to the old lady about the first girl on the left. "The first girl from the left", the old lady cried, " good choice sir. It's her first day here".



In that two hours, I cleared all my doubts and left all my love in her. I had no regret at all going in as I was leaving that dark alley. Her scent was quickly washed away from my skin by the pouring rain. But her scent was attached to my memory forever.

Thank You

I am standing here alone, but I am not lonely. There are memories, and there are feelings running inside my head. They are keeping me going, and I am thankful to have them in my life. They keep me going, and they are the reason that I am the way I am.

For giving me birth, for raising me, for taking care of me when I am hurt, and for always being there with me whether at night or day, thank you.

For yelling at me, for being jealous of me, for making fun of me, for every bad joke you were saying about me, and for every good intention that make me better, thanks to you.

For supporting me, for laughing with me, for crying with me, for fighting with me, and for failing with me, for everlasting good memories, I thank you,

For beating me, for punching me, for failing me, for destroying me, and for always coming up with new ideas to restrain me and thus making me stronger, Your efforts are appreciated.

For cheating on me, for lying to me, for hurting me, for loving me, for kissing me, for saving me from loneliness, and for every orgasmic pause, I appreciate it.

For good times, for bad times, for traveling with me, for enjoying live with me, you have my appreciation.

For touching me, for changing me, for giving me a broader view of the world, and for giving me everything without needing a single thing in return, thank you.

Thank you.

Landslide

If I was only a little bit more heartless, I would have walked away from the bar and avoided any further encounter. Yet I was sitting there on the seat tearily, and staring at this emotional cry out from the stage. Next to me was my wife. She knew of the story, but she didn't know anything beyond that. At least, I convinced myself that she knew nothing.

From the stage came a voice that introduced her next song, "I am sure all of you have heard of this song", said the singer. "My Mom used to sing this song to me. And even though I have never heard of Stevie in my childhood, I have heard enough to learn this song. To my mother, this song means as much as I to her. Without the man who taught her this song and saved her from the street, I wouldn't be here. And my beloved Mother wouldn't have given us a chance to survive this long. Even though we are never to see him and thank him again, I wish he is living well somewhere in the world. This song is for him, from my Mother and I".

She plucked the guitar, and the song began to dance around the hall.

"I took my love, I took it down
I climbed a mountain and I turned around
And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills
'Till the landslide brought me down

Mirror in the sky, What is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?

I don't know...

Well, I've been afraid of changing
'Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I'm getting older too

Well, I've been afraid of changing
'Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I'm getting older too
I'm getting older too

So take this love, take it down
If you climb a mountain and turn around
If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well the landslide bring it down

And If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well the landslide bring it down
Oh the landslide bring it down...."

This wasn't from Stevie Nicks. This came from a young woman whose emotion just affected the whole room. While she was singing, the club was quiet enough that a cough could sound like a thunder. Her voice was clear and convincing. Her feeling made every word in the song alive. Until the end, her crys had brought tears in my eye. For others, applause and cheers didn't express how much they have been affected by her feelings.

In the end of the song my hands are held by my loved one who sat next to me speechlessly. Her eyes were holding thoughts back, but I didn't know what it was. Until we were leaving, she went to pick up the car and left me alone in the club. I took the chance and looked at the young singer. She was looking at me from far away with a smile on her face as if she recognized me. She then nodded to me, and then waved. Her face covered by a fulfilling smile. And I puzzled. Did she really recognized me? And how?

On the way back to our home, I was quiet and distant. After a few turns, my dear wife pulled up to the driveway and stopped. "It has been about twenty years, hasn't it"? She asked. While I was shaking my head, she continued with her words, "by the square an underage girl was pregnant and was abandoned my the father and her family. She was given up her life, but was saved and taken into a shelter by a traveling business man".

"You knew this"? My eyes were opened wide in shock.

"She survived herself and the child in her belly. By that time his one year business exchange ended. He returned to San Francisco to his own family. Monthly, he supported the Mother and her daughter for years. Until about six years later, they have gone missing again. His checks were returned much to his displeasure. The daughter later came to California for school, and had been singing around Berkeley at night. She has been looking for the person who saved she and her Mother's life and gave them reasons to live. Her Mother told her that she could find him around the Bay, but suggested her not to".

She looked me in the eyes while speaking all these words. I was nervous, shaky, and uncomfortable. In the end, she moved over to my side and kissed me. With a smile, I understood everything that she did tonight was for me. I understood the reason that we went to Berkeley for acoustic night; I understood the reason she held my hands after the song; and I understood the reason she went to pick up the car herself. I shook my head with my eyes closed, and felt her hand caressing my trembling face.

"I hope you would forgive me for what I did tonight. But I just thought that young girl deserved a chance to meet with you - the one who made her. She deserved a chance to thank you".

I laid myself in her arms helplessly. Warmth of her heart was keeping me comfortable as ever. I didn't say anything. I didn't think anything needed to be said.

Art Works in Chaos

Nothing affected me more than an influential artwork. It doesn't matter how disturbing, how compelling, how forceful, how annoying, or how gloomy. I always braced myself for emotional shocks that these fine arts raged. This afternoon was no difference.

Have you seen red bubbles drawn in lines that represent a gruesome accident? Have you seen a realistic painting about how human experiment was operated, with some bisect body and a cut-off head? Have you seen an abstract that symbolizes a horrifying war? Have you spent time looking at an aftermath of Hurricane Katrina in drawing? Have you felt a powerful drawing that portrayed a deep gray sky with factories underneath? Have you seen a stripped naked man, strapped with firecracker and red ink, being filmed in front of camera? While each firecracker was exploding, pieces of them and the red ink went gushing. Have you seen this video that showed us how terrible and inhumane gunshot killing is?

I have felt all these emotions all afternoon. I have buried these emotions in my mind. They were haunting me with images and my own imaginations. I was trapped in my own world, and tried to break free from the darkness of my heart.

The darkness of my heart didn't prevail, however, because there were plenty of joys and daylight complementing the negativity, and pulling me away from the dreadful spiral.

There was a woman, symbolizing a house wizard, walking into a door, closing it, and climbing over layers of a wall. There were people, in a video, walking past one another only to show how our living world is just like a hallway. There were lines and dots connecting little galaxies, which made them a little time machines. There were tilted statues that could be straighten while screwed on tight. There were paintings giving me views to waterfalls, mountains, and babmoos. There were many more sarcastic, laughable, cute, and beautiful works shown among series of seriousness.

My emotions were pulled from all directions, and clashed in the middle of my body. I felt the beating, and took time to digest. I walked outside the door, and felt the sunshine and breeze. I looked at the beautiful young models from a graduation project, and were preparing for their runway walk. I saw people running around carelessly, and enjoying life. These scenes added to my thoughts, and slowly merged with other feelings in my head. They entered me, and eventually became mine.

It was great to be able to feel. It was great to be able to think freely. Yet it is the greatest for one to have the ability to digest such vast amount of creativity. I was nowhere near that state, but I was trying.

Take Little Hands

Strolling on the busy street, sweaty, disgusted, angered, I am aimed to destroy. I want payback. I want revenge. I want to see innocent blood spill, just as my bemourned family were drained until dry. My demand is simple - to let these people have a taste of the bitterness that I continuously tasted for years.

Flashback of a haunting moment and a muderous feat is still too close to be put behind. Because of them, I am taking my vengeance right here and now as I am to detonate at any second. Only if they knew, mercies will be begged, and tears will pour. But I, a man with steely heart, will not be shaken. They will die, just as my little sister was murdered, raped, and burned. They will feel my wrath, simply because they are the support of those murderous demons.

The festive celebration is behind the door. Crossing that line, I will find no return. A matyr I will become, and a hero I will be for many who are about to follow. I am ready to set an example as a true servant of the God. I have no regret. I have no fear. I feel treasured and pleasured to be looked up to.

But the little hands reach me, behind the closed door. The little eyes of innocence reach me behind the window of my soul. The little smile soften the steel that shields my broken heart. I take her little hands, as if I am taking my little sister's hands - the soft, pure, warm hands. I take them in mine, as tears fill my eyes. Time pause in and around me. Screams raise and alert, but I can't seem to care. Firearms are pointed at me, and I have to let go of her little hands.

Her little hands free me from my hatred.

Her little hands free me from my misery.

Her little hands separate me from others who either manipulate me with my own anger or see me as a souless enemy.

The little hands make me feel honorable and strong.

Bullets of reality hit as feelings of pain surge. My body is draining out blood and the lasts of my strength. I have failed, as a sacred fighter. I won't be an exmaple for many hot-blooded men. I will be laid away casually by my enemy and laughed at by my comrades. I choose this road at the last second, and will have any regret? Will I?

I have fell, and am seeing the final moment of myself. A hot steel sphere was fired in between my eyes. It is raging fast, but I see it moving slowly. With every inch it charges closer, my fear grows.

And then, everything goes black.

I am the shade between Light and Darkness

Light and Darkness
I am the shade between light and darkness. I am where everyone hides when defeated and hurt. I am where everyone resided to recover. I have no discrimination, and no need for repaying my graciousness. I am here to be the support that everyone needs.

Attention Whore
I am an attention whore, and I admit to be one. Some attention whores sell their whoring intentions, but are afraid of criticisms. They want to be appreciated, noticed, and complimented even with little contributions. They want to be sympathized when they are whining about minor annoyances. Yet when they are called out, they become annoyed and defensive. It is pathetic to a degree that I am ashamed to see.

Seraphim
I am an angel - a seraphim, one who is a shining blaze. All but one hails to me. Else the dark ashes they become. Kneel! And I shall forgive all your sin. Rise! And I shall make you my precious servants. Trite and tainted creatures, do not doubt and disbelieve. Or the tormenting fire will set you burning eternally.

Change
I am the change that many hate. I am the future that many fear. I give no safety or promises. I only show a path of adventure. I am not going to do things myself. Instead, ones who want me will need to have me done. I am the change that everyone talks about. I am the change that everyone needs. But when time comes, I am the change that everyone avoids.

Conscience
I am the conscience that is been missing among the race. Fools can't undertand me, and smarts can't stand me. But it is okay, I am just an outdated concept for all I care.

Cockroaches
I am a cockroach that crawls in your kitchen and your trash. I am the one that you want to step or spray on. You hate me. You hate my look. You hate the germs that I carry. But the true fact is: You hate me for being more useful to the nature than you are. You are just jealous of me, the cockroach.

Discrimination
I am that word that you don't want to be involved with. I am that word that you feel shameful of. I am that word you hide its concept in your heart yet express none. When you see a cracker, a nigger, a chink, a jap, a fag, a whore, an old person, a european, a hippie, a redneck, a tranny, a muslim, a hindu, a christian, or street bums, I am the hatred that pops up in your mind. You will say beautiful words to disguise your disgusting mind. You are a two-faced coward. You try to convince yourself that you are a good person, yet my presence will continue to remind you otherwise.

Over

I see
my doubts
clouding me
and put me down.
Getting weak,
backing down,
I fear,
I feel drowned.

Yet
I reach deep,
and find a bit strength.
That may just be what I need.

Set,
I am ready,
stick it to them
and set myself free.

I am over it-
over my shortcoming
Though I could lose everything,
I will keep on trying, til I am dying.

Growing Up

Blades of greens clashed
in the wailing wind and
found no shelter to hide
from the tears of the sky.
The beating marches on
and destruction has begun.
Violently, the rips and rapes
violate them nights and days.
No hopes, no end,
Everything turns from green to gray.

Tell Me

What do you believe and why does it make sense to you? I am wondering, and am wondering out loud. I am not confused, but rather intrigued. How can anyone believes in anything for sure? That being said, why do people believe in justice so much when so many people gets screwed over just because they are poor? Why do we believe in it? What makes us believe in it? That being said, why do we believe in karma? Why do we believe in anything other than a potential consequence of our action? Tell me, but don't convince me. I will believe you as I can.

There are so many things that are unbelievable, including things we cling on the most. Love, hope, destiny, ambition, kindness, just to name a few. Why do we believe in vague concepts? Why do we feel like these things are needed, in order to sustain our life? We are just animals, just another species on this planet. Shouldn't we be following the rule of nature - survival, and stay in harmony with our surroundings? Tell me, but don't convince me. I will believe you just because I can.

There are many things that we hate. Animals, plants, objects, emotion, you name it. But how do we hate something that doesn't hate back? Why do we spend time to waste such energy on such meaningless things? Are beavers really bad for the environment? Are hyenas really evil? Are swamps really dangerous to human? Why do we feel that way? Can we just accept what everything lives as it is? Is it objective to do so? Tell me, but don't convince me. I will believe you if I can.

Now tell me why should I feel self-rightious about my existence. Tell me why this world is my oyster. Tell me why should I be confident but not arrogant. Tell me about my flaws. Tell me about my mistakes. Tell me when I deserve praises. Tell me when I need to stand up for myself. Tell me there is no tomorrow, so I should seize today. Tell me I can, and I will. Tell me nothing can defeat me, even myself. Tell me all life, not man, are created equal. Tell me I am just another role player in this universe. Tell me, but don't convince me. I will believe when I can.