I guess I was wrong

My heart seems to feel heavier,
This wound that had been hidden all this while,
Is coming up to the surface once again,
This same wound that was always thrown a blanket over,
So that only that shiny silk cloth is shown,
And the loathing sight of the gash is kept under,
That same blanket is now slowly being dragged,
Inch by inch,
Uncovering what was supposed to be treated ago,
But now has cultivated bacteria,
With fungi grown, morel seeping through, yeasts creating a home of its own,
Sucking every ounce of blood available from this hulk.

Living a life differently from others,
Is that wrong?
Making mistakes at times and asking forgiveness later,
Is that wrong?
Being genuine in words and action,
Is that wrong?
Feeling something so pure, when once let go, it shatters,
Is that wrong?
Wanting to feel warmth, even for a few minutes,
Is that wrong?
The need to spread love and support without being doubted,
Is that wrong?

Then why ask??
Why ponder?
Why doubt?
Why hesitate?
Why reject?

I knew humans were so complicated,
I knew there would be no way to bring a change,
Even the slightest,
The least pressure applied will be forced out by them,
I knew that any slight closure will bring only hurt and regret,
I knew every single moment spent will be wasted at the end of the day,
Knowing that there will be nil benefit either way,
Yet I held on,
I held on to the hope that there is some light out there,
Some soul with a little practicality,
Or just some common sense,
I thought there was,
I guess I was wrong.

Copy Paste from Ditch Mistress (shez HOT!!)

ABC Questions About You :

A - AVAILABLE : Technically yes.
B - BIRTHDAY : 3/10/1989
C - CRUSHING ON : Elmo.
D - DRINK YOU LAST HAD : Coffee.
E - EASIEST PERSON TO TALK TO : Elmo.
F - FAVORITE SONG : I've got only genre. Nothing specific.
G - GUMMY BEARS OR GUMMY WORMS : Neither.
H - HOMETOWN : Serdang.
I - IN LOVE WITH : Family.
J - JUGGLE : ??
K - KILLED SOMEONE : I wish to at times. Never had the guts to.
L - LONGEST CAR RIDE : Kluang, Johor. Dad's place. 3 hours.
M- MILKSHAKE FLAVOR : Vanilla.
N - NUMBER OF SIBLINGS : 1 (more than enough)
O - ONE WISH : 1st Class Honours (LLB)
P - PERSON YOU CALLED LAST : Prishantini
R- REASON TO SMILE : No apparent reason.
S - SONG YOU LAST HEARD : Listening to some fucking old tamil song.
T - TIME YOU WOKE UP : 7.00 a.m
V - VEGETABLE(S) : Pure meat eater.
W - WORST HABIT : Laziness.
X - X-RAYS YOU'VE HAD : Chest. Forgot what it was for.
Y – YOYOS ARE : Stupid.
Z - ZODIAC SIGN : Libra.

Random Questions About You :Spell your name without vowels : Jn rvn.
What colour do you wear most? : Black.
What are you listening to? : Fucking old tamil song on Minnale.
Are you happy with your life right now? : I am in the middle. Melancholic about it.
What is your favorite class in school? : Math.
When do you start back at school/college? : Sunday.
Are you outgoing? : Yeah. Unless I'm on my part time job which is depressing.
Favorite pair of shoes? : Black coloured 2 inch high heels.
Where do you wish you were right now? : With him.
THE CANS :
Can you dance? : Here and there.
Can you tie a cherry stem with your mouth? : What good does this bring?
Can you whistle? : Yeaap.
Write with both hands? : Write well with one. Scribble with the other. Does it count?
Walk with your toes curled?: DUH.

THE DO'S :

Do you believe there is life on other planets? : Does it matter?
Do you believe in miracles? : No.
Do you believe in magic? : NO.
Love at first sight? : Never.
Do you think there's a Satan? : All hail the King.
Do you believe in Santa? : No hoho for me.
Do you know how to swim? : I can save my ass from getting drowned.
Do you think you could handle the stuff they eat on those reality shows? : Piece of cake.


THE HAVE'S:
Have you ever been on a plane? : Yes.
Have you ever asked someone out? : Not in a million years.
Have you ever been asked out by someone? : Not yet.
Have you ever been to the ocean? : Yes.
Have you ever painted your nails? : DUH.

THE WHAT'S:
What is the temperature outside? : Do not know, do not care.
What radio station do you listen to? : I do not listen to radio.
What was the last restaurant you ate at? : Is mamak stall counted?
What was the last thing you bought? : Roti Diana
Who was the last person you took a picture of? : Prishantini


CRYING SECTION :
Ever really cried your heart out? : Totally.
Ever cried yourself to sleep? : Aha.
Ever cried on your friend's shoulder? : No.
Ever cried over the opposite sex? : Yes. Couldn't bear the thought of losing him as a friend.
Do you cry when you get an injury? : No.
Do certain songs make you cry? : Aha.

HAPPY SECTION :
Are you a happy person? : No.
What can make you happy? : Animals. Especially puppys and dogs.
Do you wish you were happier? : Not really. Quite satisfied the way things are.
Can music make you happy? : Depends on the genre.

LOVE SECTION :
How many times have you had your heart broken? : Once. The wound is 5 days fresh still.
Have you ever loved someone so much that you'd die for them? : Yes. Mom, dad and elmo.

LOOK AT ME SECTION :
What is your current hair color? : Black.
Current piercings? : Ears.
Have any tattoos? : Not yet.
Eye color? : Black.

In a man, (change it to the opposite sex when you're answering this)
Favorite eye color : DGF
Short or long hair : DGF
Height : DGF
Best clothing : Decent.
PS : DGF = Don't Give a Fuck


HAVE YOU EVER :

Been to jail : Not yet.
Mooned someone : Yes.
Thrown up in a store : I doubt it.
Done something really stupid that you laugh at it till today : Yes.
Gone skinny dipping : No and not that I mind to.


THIS OR THAT :

Pepsi or Coke : Neither. I don't fancy carbonated drinks.
McDonald's or Burger King : Carl's Junior
Single or Group Dates : First time, group. Anything beyond, single.
Chocolate or Vanilla : Latter.
Strawberries or Blueberries : Former.
Meat or Veggies : Pure non-vege
TV or Movie : Sex.
Guitar or Drums? : Guitar.
Adidas or Nike : Fuck brands.
Chinese or Mexican : Spanish.
Cheerios or Corn Flakes : Roti canai with sambal and teh tarik.
Cake or Pie : Pie.

November 21 2009 (Part I)

"So, have you taken your dinner?"

"Aha yeah...what about you?"

"Yeaap yeaap"


Physical action then took course with a stroke of his arm around my back, taking control over every ounce of my sexual desire. Drawing me close to him, our cheeks rubbed each others. With the rush of blood increasing in its speed, our lips were in chemistry to meet and we smooched. Gosh.....his tongue pulled me into his cavern of saliva, exchanging each others taste of enamel and mucosal tissue. While smooching, I placed my hand on his left thigh, caressing it and he held hold of my back and massaged my left arm.


We had a 7 second intermission, when he paused to take his glasses off and lowered the passenger seat, creating the most comfortable position for me.



"Take your time....", I whispered when he was rushing into the activity.

"Hhmm...?"

"Take your time, honey", I repeated myself in a sultry voice.


With immediate effect, he slowed his reaction and absorbed me at my pace. As I was rustling his hair, he brought his face to my neck, kissing and licking me. His right hand searched endlessly for my body beneath the Levi's shirt, adventuring what was beneath the bead decorated black bra. He lovingly embraced my left breast, his warmth intriguing my nipples to cringed. My head felt so light and I thought I was in paradise with him. Just both of us in this part of world, without a single soul to stop us from exploring each others' depth of souls. Then, I felt a kiss being placed on my right cheek, and more coming up to my neck, continuing down to my shoulder and arms. My left breast was still covered with his right palm when he lowered his head towards it and started licking and biting my nipples. I chewed and sucked his ear lobes, moaning all the way for more. I howled in pain - addictive pain as he was feasting a part of me. Satisfied with the left he adjourned and did the same to the right.


I took a deep breath on his neck, smelling his lustful odour and giving him love bites all over his shoulder and chest. I slid my tongue down, wetting his chest and sucking his nipples - one after another. Wetting his skin as I went lower, he patted my head and rustled my hair, signalling me to go lower, as he unzipped his shorts.


Just then, my consciousness of the existence of Jane's principles kicked in and I slid my way up, right away, towards his neck with him embracing my neck. I calmly whispered that I am not going to do it. With his head laid so playfully on the seat, he begged,


"I know you want it....You do...", wanking his penis, up and down.


And a bargain session erupted on whether I should feast on his manhood or not. Getting the idea that this bargaining is not doing any good, he grabbed hold of my hands and wrapped it around his penis and continued wanking it. It was warm, yet hard and mushy at the same time. You could not possibly have an analogy for a penis to a candy or anything long, round or pink because nothing could substitute the description of one.


He then adjourned back to me and caressed my body down to my right thigh. Taking my shorts of, he touched my vagina, applying pressure on it physically, up and down. He then entered his finger slowly into my urethral opening and slided it in slowly, reaching the clitoris. I moaned lustfully as he kept on showering me with kisses and love bites. I pulled him to me and locked my arms around his neck and started wailing in pain and pleasure and chanted his name continuously, as he vibrated, fingering me. This went on for almost a minute or so, until I cummed myself so much, the seat got wet. I shrieked with full satisfaction of desire upon reaching climax and later, fell into his arms, surrendering myself to him.



(Nokia ring tone was played)

We both were startled. It was Squirrel calling to check up on me. I quickly ended the call by telling her that I was A-OK and would be with her in a few minutes. By the time I put the Nokia 3610 Series down, I found him on top of me. I was mumbling under my breath, questioning what he was doing, yet not expecting an answer, as I could already foresee what is about to take place.



My hands were trembling, my heartbeat increased to a 120 beats a minute. Panic arose. My lips started repeated forcefully, "Slowly....slowly...." as he was positioning himself above me and placing his penis in a way that it could enter my unventured vagina, naturally. "Do not worry. I will take it slow", he assured. My heart was beating fast, adrenaline rush was at its peak. Issues were running in my head. 'This is not the right time. What if there were complications? I am losing my virginity. Do I want to? With a random guy? With THIS guy??' In that fairytale land we were in, as he locked my lips with his, I brought my palm and caressed his penis as it entered my vulva. At that very moment, it struck me that there was no basic protection - condom.



"Babe, there is no protection", I informed him.


Then there was a moment he regained consciousness and thought for a bit. My handphone rang again, with Squirrel asking where in the Devil's name I was. I assured her that I would be there in a jiffy and ended the call right away. By the time I put my handphone at its original place, he had already shifted himself to the driver's seat, continuing his wanking business. I pulled my shorts up, adjusted myself and watched him for a while.


The clock showed 10 : 55 and I knew right away that the night had no intention of having me around her area any longer. While wanking, I drew myself closer to him and clashed my nose to his cheek, telling him that it was too late and that I had to go. He was fine about it and brought our paradise story to an end by cumming onto a couple of pieces of tissue papers. Cleaning himself up, I hooked my bra back and straightened my brown coloured, cotton made Levi's shirt and pulled the seat up to its original position. We parted by saying goodbye.



"Ye ask,and receive not, because ye ask amiss, that ye may consume it upon your lusts" - James 4:3

My Father

"Once you fall down, you stand up and walk again. As here now, you made a mistake, start a new leaf and don't make that mistake again", he reiterated to me again as I sat there, chin thumped heavily on my arms that were entwined with each other lazily on the stone made table provided at this Malay raced shop which provides "halal" food, which means that no pork is served, just around the outskirts of Johor. I had never felt so naked and ashamed in my entire life like how I felt last night, right after sending her off to continue her 100% science based course which lasts only for another 2 years.

"Why did you do it? What was the reason? As far as I know, we weren't bad parents. We were quiet frank and honest with you compared with other parents. We weren't as strict and stern with both of you. What problem so great did you have that led you to do it?", Angel kept poking this injured piece of fresh meat which had bled too much, so much so, there has been blood clots here and there. When all of a sudden, she acknowledges how I could have felt and placed ice on the poked areas, hoping it will cure the wounds by saying, "Actually, I do understand how you feel. Before, I felt the same way you did when I started working. I had no friends, no one to go out and eat with or shop with. So much so, I felt bad going out and so desperately needed a friend. I understand where you come from. I do." Well, how obvious it may seem, the wound-icing didn't work, not even to the slightest bit.

He then interrupted and summed the whole unwanted hype created by his other spouse with whom he hath lived for the past 24 undying lovely years by saying that no matter what has happened, he pledged to keep it behind, as something from the past and made me promise to start a new, clean book by creating the title as Jane Arveena on it and listing down the categories that Jane Arveena should have. I nodded my head childishly, agreeing and accepting to his terms of offer to a brandished new life, not knowing that it is going to affect me in all angles available.

But, one thing's for sure, he proved to me how a great man he was and still is. Not only did I lie to him on both occasions, but I actually had the guts to look at him in the eye and judge every single act, every utter of word and every look that is criticizable, deemed to be taken on by me and scrutinised them to the very extent of actually corrupting the purity of the relationship. Yet, he sits there, quietly and so collective, permissing any illogical opinions of mine and brushes them away, in view that I am just one of those teenagers trying to seek attention.

His focus here is to see me growing up to be the person I was supposed to be : religious, no immoral activities, successful, productive, having my own family and the list goes on. Such of a thought is in his mind is because he has been drafted with this duty called responsibility. The heaviest, most indescribable existence of that very duty where he seeks perfection as the outcome. Thus, protruding a sense of greatness when that is achieved. As quoted by Wiston Churchill : the price of greatness is responsibility.

Psychologically, affecting me in a way where this immense feeling of respect towards him overwhelms me, I can't possibly imagine betraying the promise I had made. Eventhough, I am pretty sure I can't fulfill those requirements of being a perfectionist, as I personally do not believe in perfection, for now, I would try to keep my promise and keep my head as well as my speech low.

"The essence of being human is that one does not seek perfection" - George Orwell

A Little Too Soon

A smile was forcibly carved on this scarred face of mine when I overlooked the earlier entries to my diary. Once upon a time ago when I stated with much enthusiasm and zest; I WANT THE SCHORLASHIP TO UK! somewhat seemed so bland and like an arrow just shot and falls miserably on the ground after hitting a stone, this arrow of foreseeability and so called light, struck this stone hearted of mine and it just burnt in flames.

Flames caused by regret, guilt, despair, hope, lost love, a warmth, a need, a form of comfort once trusted, felt and embraced by every sense of my well being which is now kept in the refridgerator, freezing to death, and just waiting on for someone to take it out and shatter it into pieces with a spike.

Like a guitar left idle, keeping all its power of rhythm that when once plucked will outshine itself from the rest of the crowd. Like a guitar laid on the bed, seemingly comfortable, I sit here, wasting precious time and of total, voluntary ignorance of an exquisite gift in me. A gift once unwrapped open, it will be a talk of the town for years to come. Like a guitar laid on the bed, I continue to be in this aura of ignorance of this gift. And as the absence of plucking that same guitar left idle, I am in the absence of confidence.

The basic, pure confidence of being able to carry my leg and stretch it to reach another step to walk a further mile. The genuine meaning of the word confidence where I know I can throw words into mere jokes or simple sarcasm, with the intention of not hurting anyone and just creating a light mood. Every sense of the word, CONFIDENCE where I know I can go home and meet Angel, Bear and Her for solace and unconditional love and support.

Yet, just one downfall is needed to crush this whole entity of friendship, acquaintances, relations and most importantly, family. Just this one mistake, that doesn't even seem wrong in my eyes, is being poked on day by day, forming new wounds and aggravating old ones, like a kitchen knife cutting through your skin, slash after slash. The thought of a knife cutting through my skin seems to be of a less heartless thing to do as then, I could literally lick my wounds. It differs widely if the weapon was words and the target was an individual's emotions.

Every moment I try to get back the old times where there was nothing but joy, laughter and happiness, reality strikes the Lords of Honour and Purity and they remember all of a sudden that, "Hey, wait a minute. You committed this immoral and disgraceful act. A taboo! Now, zip that mouth shut and know your limits". Words hammer me down 6 feet below, showing me where I really belong - 6 feet under the rest of the crowd. As words are the crux of the very existence of writers, they are undoubtly mightier than a sword.

In this midst of darkness and desolation, one should not lose himself and drown in this disastrous path of a broken future. Optimism kicks in, substituting the lost confidence to lighten this burden (if there was one in the first place) and encouraging one to carry on with life because there is more to life than this. This is just one phase deemed to take place in one's journey to revolution. The world is out there! It is just waiting for you to join in and feel the diversed culture and different colours offered in silver platter before you.

"Future, not a popularity test of the past" - James Reaston

Scars Never Fade

"It was ok....average..." then she continued watching her favourite programme on the tele. Heart brokened as I was, I grabbed hold of my guitar together with my music notes, and headed for the stairs. "Is that all?" She questioned, creating an impression that she was presumably interested to hear more. "Yea, that should be all". I replied, and continued my way upstairs, regretting every moment spent playing that piece for her.

What was I thinking? Plucking my way through the words and music created by Richard Marx, smoothly was an absolutely impossible thing to do. On top of that, actually invite myself to play it for her. "After all, she is my angel. I'm positive that she would like it". Well, it proved otherwise didn't it?

Upon reaching my room door, I placed the notes on my bed, made myself comfortable with the stool available and started strumming the song, Right Here Waiting. This time, I played it slower, a lot slower than the earlier times that I used to play it. Somehow, each pluck of the guitar string created an ambigous, serene sound, so serene it struck the depths of my soul, so deep, tears started rolling down my cheeks. Did it sound that bad? Was it so meticulously abhorrent to listen to? I continued playing the piece, more intense now, weeping harder.

Memories unfolded in that short period of grief. Other intense occurences where I doubted their love and trust towards me. Such as the night before when we were over at my cousins' place, and I was shunned for the extra piercing in my ears. If I would ever want to see regret and disappointment in the eyes of my beloved, last night was it. I was a pure example of a sordid and disdainful attitude a 20 year old could have. A 20 year old, Indian Christian girl who has picked up the ominous habits, eventhough having lived her life amongst staunch Catholics and so-called respectable elders and honourable idols. Another thought drifted through my mind when they compared me with the self-proclaimed slut whom I have lost contact with since 3 years ago.

"Oh, look at her. Look at how matured and responsible person she is. Could you not be more like her instead? Do you have to be so rebellious? She was never as rude as how you are behaving now". These laconic and infamous words keep running through my mind, chanting every single night, bringing down the very foundation of me.

As I reached the last C chord, I strummed it with tears falling on the strings. My tears aint too acidic, its just salty, so the strings are safe and sound. Not to worry on that. Wiping it dry and blowing my running nose with the Premium Facial Tissue, I decided to open my vein. In other words, write my feelings down. Well, just as the once US columnist, journalist, sports writer and Pulitzer prize winner, Walter Wellesley said, " There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein".

Lust

She lays her back gently on the cotton sheet covered mattress. He readily inserts his genitals into the opening of her vagina, arousing carnal desires from the edge of her spinal cord to the very end of her nipples. Pushing it in harder and more vigorous after every strike, she feels the pain - the pain she is about to get addicted to. He lays his head on her shoulders, lying his chest onto her supple breast. Both nipples collide. He brings down his tongue, from her shoulder down to her right breast, and circulating the nipple,wetting every inch of her skin. With one palm embracing the left breast and caressing it, he nibbles and suckles her right. Satisfied with the delight, he moves on and does the same to her left.

Now, more gently contracting his muscles into her secret garden, he locks his lips with hers, cupping her breast in such solidarity. Having reached the full extent of fulfilling every ounce of carnal desire, he pulls his manhood out from hers abruptly and just lay helpless beside her. Both ravengers just lie there, panting, welcoming more oxygen to oxidise the lactic acid formed on their muscles due to overdose usage of glucose, at the same time, decreasing the oxygen debt.

Numbness

I am deprived of feeling, stripped away from the power of motion. As you grow older, the sense of taste seem to disappear, receptors seem to have a sudden shock where it just loses contact with the brain and is disabled from producing any hormons - good or bad. But surprisingly, the presence of the mind in the sense of thinking, seem to get more active. Oh gosh, this is getting boring. Let me just cut the chase and come black and white. I feel I want to commit murder. I need blood. Something so drastic that would snap me out of my insensitive receptors. I feel I want to commit adultery. The core fulfilment of carnal desires might instil a rush of adrenaline - lustful adrenaline, waking me from my cloudy thoughts and completing all wishes that were left unresolved those years. I feel I want to bash the devil out of some bad apples of the society. Starting with this so called friend of mine. That is a whole other chapter to discuss about. Bashing would express too much of my feelings out and could be too extreme, but what the heck? I keep whacking my opponents in protected vests and shin guards which I'm soon going to fall dead bored of the extra shield. Well, I guess that's all I feel at the moment. Now, my friend Hemaraj is allowed to read it first, officially.

PS : If anyone found this an extreme boredom, well then go fuck yourselves.