A letter for death to deliver

She writes a letter for death to deliver to her loved ones
in the fond hope that it would help destroy any guilt, remorse, regret or disgrace
That it might help reveal to them the person she was in the innermost chambers
of what might well be her soul, of what definitely was her heart as her mind knew it to be.

For she is scared, of dying and leaving behind a sorrow which is burdensome
so much so that it destroys more than what her presence was ever worth.
She is scared of confusion, hatred and love spreading to where they do not belong,
to where they will transform into a deep engulfing shadow, devouring what she left behind.

She wants to be remembered, but she needs them to acknowledge her death and the person she truly was, with the niceness and the not.
She was never an angel on earth, and death mixed with grief from love

often converts one to an angel after.

She would be in peace then, if they truly understood.
The choices she had made, how their love had shaped her, how her tears were not true.
For all her life she has been happy, lucky.
With no regrets

paintbrush doodles.

Victoria's Secret

[This will be the first episode of many to follow in a little series I will be writing (when I feel like) called Victoria's Secret. Do not confuse it with the popular lingerie brand. Nope. This is a serious, gripping, tear-jerking, frightening story about a girl called Victoria.]

(Galloping Horse Sound)* didnt quite know how to make a horse galloping sound. Wait.
Badabap, Badabap, Badabap.

No?

(ok basically there is this galloping horse.)

She carries a sharp gleaming sword.

(Thats how swords should be maintained, such that they gleam. When light falls on them they should look like they're ablaze. Rusty swords aren't any good. They might do the job as well, but what of grandeur, a sense of glory.

She pulled out a rusty sword and inserted it, with considerable effort, into his abdomen.
She pulled out a sharp gleaming sword and neatly sliced his head off.

mm..

you get the idea.)

Anyway, she carries a sharp gleaming sword. Tonight she will have her revenge..

[What is her secret? Stay tuned for more]

Mine

let me put you in a box
carry it in my pocket

...what if i lose it
ill lose you then

then again.
i probably lost you when i put you in a box.

Come to me

(He goes to the tip, looks over, its a long fall. He steps back.)

Wow, that would hurt.

Yes, yes it would.

Splat, and that would be the end of me. The end of my existence
in this world, universe.. as far as it extends to whatever depths.
I would be out of here, forever.

Mm, for all he knows.. yes he would be out of there forever. But
he would never be alone, and what he seeks to escape would never
let him go.

Wow, it would hurt. Maybe death would be instantaneous.
But the drop, while Im falling, I would still be alive. I would still be thinking.

So.

Im such a horrible person, I should jump.
I have hurt her, I have lost her trust and her love.
Ive lost her smile, the smile reserved for me, gone.

Y e s, you deserve to die you bastard. Now just jump.

I spoilt her, what she was before she is no more.
Wow, Im a poet now? Argh, never serious! I dont even know if I truly
feel any more, if I ever truly felt at all. Do I actually care about her, what
I did to her, what she became due to my acts, my ideas, ME.
Id say the same old thing..

You dont know

..I dont know

Ive heard this enough, Im getting impatient. please..

Did I love her?

No, no you didnt. Stop thinking, stop it. stop.

I dont know. I know i never wanted her hurt, I never wanted her to cry,
I never wanted her to wake up unhappy. I wanted her to eat well, to buy her
nice things, to hold and hug her. Protect her.

what..

I failed, I did love her. And she loved me..
She did..

I dont even know where she is now.. I cant find her, and I shouldnt try to.
After that last fight, she left me forever.

I died, thats what.

I hope shes happy wherever she is. Its getting cold..

Thats right.. come to me

Today Morning

I wake up somewhat late. My alarm was ringing from 7 but i got up only by some 8.05am that too cos i realised i want to have a bath. (not that i didnt bathe yesterday. cos i did)

Just felt icky thanks to the moov that id applied on my neck (oh ya my neck is fucked) Then i realise since ive run out of blue soap (detergent soap. clothes soap. whatever you prefer) i must use the brand new bar that ive bought. The "RIN BAR IS NOW SURF EXCEL BAR" bar of soap.

So i pull it out. Its gigantic. And only half would fit my blue soap dappa (the dappa is also blue) So i pull out my sexy swiss army knife to cut it in half. As my roommate put it "its easy Veena". Yes. So i cut. The knife bounces off the surface.

Hmm.. interesting.

So i saw. not like i see i saw.. but like i cut with a saw. I saw with a saw .. saw. The action of sawing. You get it. Hahn, so i saw. Of no use. I barely make a scratch.

Hmm...

So i saw even faster. And i try a bit of drilling, hammering, throwing against a wall.
No use. They should make helmets out of blue soap.

Anyway. So I finally realise its already 8.25 and im getting nowhere. then

TADAHHDADADISH*
BRAIN STORM

I dunk the soap in water. and saw at the same time. from all sides. with great strength
and vigour. Finally by 8.35 it comes apart. And i run to bathe. I miss breakfast. I reach class

The end.

while you were sleeping

introducing my roommate...

drained

.
dry mind and dry eyes
from long dreamless nights
shes fighting her thirst to die
finding ways, fighting time
keeping her life in sight

who does what she does
who knows who cares
so high so high so high
hear her laugh, see her fly
how did she get so high
.

psychogirl II

It has beautiful eyes.
Its quite tiny actually, fits into the palm of her hand.
It listens to her, loves her.
Poke it. poke. poke. poke.

It goes away, she misses it.
the little piece of fluff.
it makes her so happy, she cries
it is her world of one

the urge to eat it up is also quite strong.
gobble.
its quite rare.
and she isnt letting go.

the hoopler.

Victoria's Secret

[This will be the first episode of many to follow in a little series I will be writing (when I feel like) called Victoria's Secret. Do not confuse it with the popular lingerie brand. Nope. This is a serious, gripping, tear-jerking, frightening story about a girl called Victoria.)

(Galloping Horse Sound)* didnt quite know how to make a horse galloping sound. Wait.

Badabap, Badabap, Badabap.

No?

(ok basically there is this galloping horse.)

She carries a sharp gleaming sword.

(Thats how swords should be maintained, such that they gleam. When light falls on them they should look like they're ablaze. Rusty swords aren't any good. They might do the job as well, but what of grandeur, a sense of glory.

She pulled out a rusty sword and inserted it, with considerable effort, into his abdomen.
She pulled out a sharp gleaming sword and neatly sliced his head off.

mm..

you get the idea.)

Anyway, she carries a sharp gleaming sword. Tonight she will have her revenge..

[What is her secret? Stay tuned for more]

depression

watch her crumble
she was so hard
then came the tears
turned her brittle

how she wails
she Screams
it hurts

She screams and screams and screams
please make her stop, before she

watch her crumble

she is powder
dust

gone

dont ask me

it takes only a few minutes of idle thought to make one realise that there is nothing.
we live.
we die.

if anyone really gets that. they cannot move on.
it is absolutely impossible.
they must stop. and change.

if anyone really gets the size of this existence.
the lack of reason.
the uncertainity.
the grief. the absence of meaning.

if anyone stops to think. hard.

i suppose its really a good thing that people are absorbed in the ratrace.
in their cooking. in their grades. fights. parties. discounts. tv shows. whatnot

if everyone realised what some do. inadvertently by mistake.
they might kill themselves. not realising how they contribute
to the general nothingness that way.

or they might let go. and Decide to live. for what life might actually be.
if there is a reason.
if it is to have meaning.

psychogirl I

what do you call a girl who spends half an hour thinking about whether those who love her still would if she were to one morning shrink to one fifth her normal size?

.. more on psychogirl.. soon..

understatement

heart break

.

heart torn out stamped upon cut into uneven little pieces some fed to dogs and others burnt crisp and rolled in mud.

.

now youre getting somewhere.

dont push me

me. psycho. soon to be.
people here driving me crazy.

want a gun.
to shoot someone.

wont at all be sorry.

tickles test

i took a tickles test (yes) to find out my true talent.
took me half hour. answering questions.

what is my true talent you ask?

NUMERICAL it says.
Numerical.

mm.
numerical.

fahk

Apparently numbers are closest to my heart.
Apparently I should've taken up math or something related for a career.
Apparently I have to pay 25$ for a 30 page detailed report on my numerical skills.

The toughest question in the test follows:

6/? = ?/54

a) 2
b) 234
c) 18
d) 11

did you answer 18?
guess what. your true talent is NUMERICAL.

sigh. i must go work

kitchen set

what i wanted for a long long long time. not this exactly but similar.

i want to be a kid again.
a rich one.

heh.

little girl

little girl
she asks herself

am I dying
am I dying
am I dying

little girl
she kills herself

asking




she is young
she is nice
but she must stop asking

for there is no answer to her query.


yet I must try

to die one must live
I tell her

she smiles and she forgets
I cannot help her

stereogram

something i adored when i was a kid.
autostereograms. or just stereograms

or simpler still. magic photos as i used to call them

ok .. autostereograms it is then.

anyway I was saying.. something i adored when i was a kid

why you ask?
a. theyre fun. you never know what image is going to pop out at you.
b. hardly any of the other kids (idyuts) could see what I so clearly could... ahem.
c. ok.. there is no c.

try this.

starter tips: you are supposed to do a squinty starey thing at the mush of colours and *pop* you see a 3d image. C o n c e n t r a t e

(if im not helpful try this <-- link )


well?
do you see it?

No it is not flamingoes.
or sharks or water falls.

It is an image of three interlocked rings!!
ta daa.

Well I see it...

Speak of me

Start now, go on.
Speak of me.

See how I listen. Sense my joy
As you speak of me

Tell me what my world is.
Tell me what my smile means.
Tell me what I look like. Why I say what I do and think the way I do.

Speak of me.
I will believe it to be true.
If it feels like I want it to be.

Speak of my love
For you, for him, for them, for none
My dreams, dreamt to come true
My tears, shed for sleep

To speak of me,
Passionately, sadly, through music, words
Who am I to you

I will believe it to be true, if it feels like I want it to be.
I know not myself, only you know me.