Feeling: Lonely
Listening to: Milligram Smile by From Autumn To Ashes

I'll be back on the fifth of June, okay (That doesn't mean I will update Broken Smile though, because I like to be mysterious and predictably unpredictable)? The location of my disappearing shall be left a secret, however, for it is only revealed to those worthy of the knowledge, and apparently, you are not worthy of the knowledge (HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Loser).

You can thank me later. :D

On the down side, I will miss Azmin an awful fucking lot. With every rose comes a thorn, I guess. That's what they say, right? Wait. No, they don't. They don't say that. Which means I just made it up. Which means you may quote me. With proper referencing, of course.

Feeling: Interesting
Listening to: Hurt by Johnny Cash

This song's sad, and the simplicity of the music in addition to Johnny Cash's already solemn voice just makes it all the more sad.

Hurt by Johnny Cash
I hurt myself today
to see if I still feel.
I focus on the pain -
the only thing that's real.
The needle tears a hole,
the old familiar sting.
Try to kill it all away,
but I remember everything.
What have I become,
my sweetest friend?
Everyone I know goes away
in the end.
And you could have it all:
my empire of dirt.
I will let you down,
I will make you hurt.
I wear this crown of thorns
upon my liar's chair.
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair.
Beneath the stains of time,
the feelings disappear.
You are someone else;
I am still right here.
What have I become,
my sweetest friend?
Everyone I know goes away
in the end.
And you could have it all:
my empire of dirt.
I will let you down,
I will make you hurt.
If I could start again,
a million miles away,
I would keep myself,
I would find a way.

Well. It's been a while since I felt I could go online and do time-wasting things, such as reading comics and blogs of people I don't know, without feeling like there's something more important I should be doing. So, hello, temporary freedom. I think I like you. :]

Feeling: Excited
Listening to: Alvin Maker's Greensong by The Scene Aesthetic

One of those things I talked about.

Prayer Before Birth by Louis MacNeice
I am not yet born: O hear me.
Let not the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or
the cub-footed ghoul come near me.

I am not yet born: console me.
I fear that the human race may with tall walls wall me,
with strong drugs dope me, with wise lies lure me,
on black racks rack me, in blood-baths roll me.

I am not yet born: provide me
With water to dandle me, grass to grow for me, tree to talk
to me, sky to sing to me, birds and a white light
in the back of my mind to guide me.

I am not yet born: forgive me
For the sins that in me the world shall commit, my words
when they speak me, my thoughts when they think me,
my treason engendered by traitors beyond me,
my life when they murder by means of me
hands, my death when they live me.

I am not yet born: rehearse me
In the parts I must play and the cues I must take when
old men lecture me, bureaucrats hector me,
mountains frown on me, lovers laugh at me, the
white waves call me to folly and the desert calls
me to doom and the beggar refuses
my gift and my children curse me.

I am not yet born: O hear me,
Let not the man who is beast or who thinks he is God
come near me.

I am not yet born: O fill me
With strength against those who would freeze my
humanity, would dragoon me into a lethal automaton,
would make me a cog in a machine, a thing with
one face, a thing, and against all those
who would dissipate my entirety, would
blow me like thistledown hither and
thither or hither and thither
like water hekd in the
hands would spill me.

Let them not make a stone and let them not spill me.
Otherwise kill me.
Which reminds me of the new countdown I've started. Mehehehe.

Days remaining: 8

P.S. I'm thinking of you, Mr. Make-Me-Happy. But you already knew that. :]

Feeling: Hopeless

As I've re-realized recently, there are a lot of sad things that could happen in one's life, each of which's encounter could bring us to tears and question the Maker's plans, but for fuck's sake. Is there really nothing left of the goodness I thought there was in humanity?

How can a person actually do this?

Click and click, but in case you don't want to because you're a rebel and all that jazz, continue:

Elisabeth Fritzl was forced to help build the dungeon where she was kept by her sadistic father Josef, it emerged yesterday. For the first nine months of her 24 years in captivity, she was also tethered with a 5ft dog leash around her neck to prevent her escape. Elisabeth, now 42, had been sexually abused by her father since the age of 11. She ran away from home at the age of 16 but was dragged back by Fritzl and locked up when he suspected she was planning to leave again.

For the first nine years, he imprisoned her in a grim 15ft by 15ft box room which had a makeshift toilet in one corner. She told police that Fritzl forced her to help drag a 600lb concrete and steel door into position to seal the dungeon. It was only when it was in place that she discovered she had helped to build her own prison.

Fritzl finally agreed to expand the cellar - again with Elisabeth's help - after she had given birth to two of his children.He forced her to dig out the chambers by hand, working for hours at a time. The process took nearly a decade. One of the new rooms was used as a punishment area and Fritzl would take his daughter there and rape her. He also used it to chastise the three of their children - Kerstin, 19, Stefan, 18, and six-year-old Felix - who lived underground with her. Their siblings Lisa, 16, Monika, 14 and 12-year-old Alexander lived a 'normal' life upstairs.

Franz Polzer, who is leading the police investigation, said: "She said that there was only one single room at first between 1984 and 1993. The dungeon was expanded as the children were getting born. There are still areas we haven't found inside the dungeon and I expect it to take at least two weeks before we have answered all the questions we need to about how Fritzl controlled the areas and imprisoned the children. Areas of the dungeon appear to have been under construction and it is possible Fritzl may have been planning to expand it even further." Austrian police said the air inside the inner chambers was so stifling they have been forced to drill holes to allow investigators to breathe.

In police interviews, Elisabeth said that at the start she had fought against the imprisonment, banging on the walls and screaming until she could no longer speak, but no one had come as the weeks turned into months, and the years into decades. She said she had eventually stopped arguing with her father who in turn had stopped beating her as frequently. Eventually she had become pregnant with Kerstin, now 19, and she had informed her father - fearing that he would be furious because he would now have to release her to go to hospital. He had reportedly replied: "Do not think you are getting away from me so easily."

Details of the birth have not been spoken about by Elisabeth but afterwards Fritzl had continued to return frequently for more sex, at least once every three days. After Kerstin there were further children, Stefan, 18, Lisa, 16 Monika, 15, Alexander, 12, whose twin brother died from neglect before he could even be given a name, and finally Felix, 6.

:[

Hence, it reminded me of something I wrote on the 20th of March when I was angry at the world and also sad at the fact of life we must live with (That assholes exist), and somehow, I could just plop it into this situation as if it were meant for it. So here it is (It wasn't meant to be a poem, but I guess thoughts can be poems too, if you want them to be).

A Commentary
It's sad.
How a person can steal another person's soul,
torture it,
stretch it to it's utmost limits and then some.
How a human being can have the will,
the indecency
to cause such pain and torment to another.
It is utterly and absolutely
horrifying.
To discover the true nature of our existance
and realize the degree of evil we can commit,
enough to cause the total damnation of one's wellbeing,
the destruction that could tear you
to pieces.
How someone can treat another
so badly,
and in a way that even they themselves would not wish upon their individual understanding of
life.
I simply cannot understand it.
Are we destined to fail?
Destined to abolish,
to eradicate
any kind of hope left in the world?
♥

Feeling: Scared
Listening to: Coffee by Copeland

I know I'm supposedly not meant to be online at the moment, but due to unforeseen circumstances that consists of me discovering a bunch of poems I have grown attached to and that I will reveal to you in due time, I join you once again on this cold, dark night, just to say hello.

Sonnet 116 by William Shakespeare
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments, love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds.
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempest and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken,
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Wihin his bending sickle's compass come,
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom:
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Hello.

Days remaining: 3