Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona eis requiem sempiternam.

I stayed back in the office till 8.30pm last night, and now I'm idling around on a weekend.

I have no bloody idea what happened to result in this. Okay, maybe I do, but I feel so helpless against the current of which I'm being dragged along, and so I continued my freefall into this sad, pathetic excuse of a life.


This pain,
It claws --
At my heart, my guts, my throat.
I can't breathe.

Whatever I can do,
To gain respect from others and for myself?
Whatever can I do,
To be rid of this heartwrenching self-torture?

Gnaw, slash, rip.
In all my vainglory, I am torpid inside.
A votary of destiny,
Its brusque decision had me pliant.

My struggle to fight deliquesced;
Life has placed a malediction on me.
Just leave me alone to lick my wounds --
I need to cleanse my soul.

I can't breathe.


I sometimes lie on the bed, and tried picturing myself seated on the warm sand of a deserted beach, staring out into the boundless blue ocean. To just be.

I look around me now, and all I see is the deformity, the hideousness of the world and the ever-existing despair that surrounds me.

The ocean more often than not turns a dark, muddy colour, and the winds howled their anger. I can't even make myself at peace; What can I do for the people around me?


You're sleeping next to me.
Facing me, for a change.
Your soft snores ruffling my downy hair,
tickling my senses.

I feel cold.

I attempted to put my arms around you,
But your aloofed, distanced posture
Obstructed me so.

So cold.

I gazed lovingly at you every night.
I wonder if I was ever the last image on your mind,
Before you drifted off into the Land of Nods?

Icy tendrils gripped my heart.
I tried to rub my arms for warmth,
But my skin was scruffed raw.

Tonight, I cried myself to sleep again.
Wrapped up in that tiny, torn blanket,
Bracing against the chill.

I'm so cold...


I'm a machoist, I know. Many a times I know that it was time for me to run for cover and retain that little bit of hope I have left in life, but I always foolishly cling on to what's not meant to be. All through my life, I have been nothing but a fool for love.


To truly love a person,
Am i really competent of so?

My body is an empty shell,
filled with anguish, dashed hopes,
and bitterness.
I've sold my soul to the devil --
I don't wanna feel.

It's silent.
The crickets sounded,
The trees murmured.
A dog barked afar,
But everything's soundless to me.

So lonely.
So scarred.
So tainted.

How can I love another,
When I can't bestow the same upon myself?
To truly love a person -
I think I'll pass.

Wrote them all on a whim when I was smoking one night. Nothing much but foolish ramblings. Sigh.

Libera me, Domine, de morte æterna, in die illa tremenda, quando coeli movendi sunt et terra. Dum veneris iudicare sæculum per ignem. Tremens factus sum ego et timeo, dum discussio venerit atque ventura ira. Dies iræ, dies illa, calamitatis et miseriæ, dies magna et amara valde. Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine: et lux perpetua luceat eis.