SAViNG GRACE

Just because of pride, there are people who are actually willing to belittle others, or simply, pull together sizeable advantage to be appeased. I mean, what do they get out of placing themselves in the limelight and then downing others?

Satisfaction. Gratification. And definitely definition of their sick, perverse ideologies over what their diminished concept of embracing equilibrium and eliminating dominion of egoes would be.

I ain't a fighter and definitely not a peacemaker. Like a true blue streetkid, I think being given attention is already an extra bonus, somewhat a lottery-winning kind of feeling. Plus the fact that somebody actually decides to engage you in some ways useful is almost like being the F7 key on the keyboard that is finally being pressed.

So tell me. How many times have you ever used the F7 key? Or are you the F7 key?

Because, if the F7 key is unimportant to you, then you probably don't value what others can do. But if you're the F7 key, I salute you: you're configurable, yet not vying for attention, even though you are somewhat the humble kind.

My dear cyberspacemen, I love my job, and I love seeing young, inquisitive minds at work, hungry for new things everyday. And I gladly give what I can offer to feed that hunger - I guess making too many mistakes make you more obvious towards intangible things that protude like the F7 key.

And if you're telling me it's a group project, it's teamwork, it's having to do it together, know this - if you ever complain about some others who aren't cooperating, perhaps you have to ask yourself why aren't you instead.

I read in the papers last night, one of those gossip papers that paint the world in a myriad of colors more vibrant than a Picasso: a father-son team who terrorised an entire block of residents - the father strips and exposes himself to any female human, the son steals women lingerie, ejaculates into them, and returns them promptly.

And it went on for a year.

Now, either the team is lucky and somewhat quite welcomed to do what they are doing, or the residents are purely not very cooperative, but somewhat selfish, thinking others will do the reporting and stop the nonsense. For me? I would have gathered my friends, catch the fabulous two, tie them up nude at their main doors, and get an old (really old) prostitute to expose herself to them for a full hour. And each time they get an erection, we'll slap the erection till it dies down, keep repeating the process till they can't stand it anymore. Make it 2 hours.

I really don't know which to laugh at, or to feel disgusted at: the perverts, or the residents.

OMG. ONE FULL YEAR OF RAMPANT PERVERTIC BEHAVIOUR! I think the residents are more perverse to let it actually happen to them for that long.

Now tell me - have you done a check on yourself lately? Are you the real person, or are your saying others are unreal?

GULLiBLE

Who's to say we're this or that? For that matter, what ever happened to being critical? It's like, these days are filled with hypocracies narrowed down to plain banter of complete unimportance that is immersed in pure diplomacies and niceties.

I love Chinatown for that complete reverse reason: people are real, I don't see fancy theatrics that makes me nauseous, and certainly put up with no pretense. Yes, there could be luxury cars and the occasional flauntings, but think about it: they are real people doing real human things, regardless if they are of the good or the bad kinds.

So today I sat down for dinner at my favourite coffeeshop, ordered my usuals, teasing the lady taking orders about needing a menu and recommendation when thereafter, quite innocently, I ordered something else. And later on, she went on about collecting soda can rings so that she could exchange for a wheelchair to be donated to the Old Folks' Home. Such kindness in pure life without the limelight.

I'm sure you and me don't even match up, so quit whining about not knowing what to have for lunch tomorrow when many others don't ever get to choose.

And so, I reflected like a droplet against the mirror, watching myself crash and splatter in complete fantasy, then laying still until the mirror tilts a vertical, and I begin to dribble off it.

This is when I begin to wonder about some people around me that are filled with niceties in a suit and tie or a dress with pretty pleats. The astrocity to speak of the beautiful came suddenly full of hidden agendas and motivations.

By the way, if you find this wordy, well I've always been. You're more than welcomed to finish this line of thoughts and rebutting in your own unique ways.

Coming back, I was told about a friend who went cold with another. And this friend felt hurt because it seemed to be an own-doing, which I, of course, fiercely refuted having sufficient reasons to do so. My friend's a darling, how could such things ever happen, I questioned myself. Now it all falls into place - complete pretense in the most subtle manners anyone can afford to make do with.

Which inevitably brings me to a level above my knees weak in standing up against ill-intents - I now see further and deeper, and I begin to release myself from the grasp of use. I ever regretted some actions, but I would stand by them: Real People lived a Real Life.

I think I am real enough.

So this goes out to one specific person: if you are sorry, don't just say it. Show it and be it. I hate people using and throwing.

MODERATES

It's been raining, and it hasn't been helping with the emotions much. For one, it added on to the already fragile health conditions, and has definitely piled on a heavier mood than usual. Gone are the days when I loved the rain for its weird sensations.

It's splattering outside again, and I seriously hope it stops soon. Heavens has lots to cry about, but for this boy here, I think I need some encouragement more than anything else.

I've been weighing pretty heavy in the heart. Hope something picks me up soon.

EXPiRY

Everyone comes with one, and that includes me too. And today, I expired from being an Angel.