Day No. 322: Rusted Pipe.

I woke up this morning, had a couple of oily noodles and saw my team got held to a dour draw. You wondered where it'd gone, the horizon was a grey sky morning as I surveyed the vertical plances. Thought it was good for a run. So I went out.

My legs felt like rusted pipes, or it's been switched with plastic. They can last but are dead. I wonder why some people persevere. So I tried. Then an old friend nagged at me. It's called a throbbing pain, if you're wondering. 40min of her. Have I gotten enough of her? But I'd change for the better because of her. Did it matter? Yes it did. 40min, or 40 years. Does it matter? I wonder myself now. I really can't see. She's not saying anything. We don't say a word. This beautiful pain as I start to run. I don't see you, but I feel. Your very existance tells me you're the most beautiful woman a man can have. For you, I am grateful. For you, I will grow a most beautiful flower. For you, I will always be here.

Day No.317: Holding down the Shift Key for 8 Seconds.

How many times have I held the Shift Key for so long? I think I forgot. Did anyone bother to update the periodic table? Nah. People's just content with it. Pluto's the last planet in the damn galaxy. We live in so much comfort. Perhaps we should. Perhaps I'm holding the Shift key for too damn long. Perhaps we're all waiting for damn Christmas. For snow. No such luck. Santa don't exists kids. We're all dreaming. Or living. What is real?

Day No. 316: Give me a pen.

Well, I'm using a chalk to write on the wall. I'm at 889 words. It's very late and my mind's come unstuck. I'm running out of chalk and don't want to lose blood. I really want to finish this piece of crap, but This WALL is only so big. I'm losing my mind. The sun better not come up. Superman! Turn back Time! Like you did in Superman IV! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Day No.315: 5.57pm, 5.57km

Food Watch: Macaroni, stir fried with tomato sauce, mushrooms, shredded chicken breasts, fish cake. 3/4 eaten. Finish so cook will not be offended. Politically correct eating.

My running route. Out from block 263. Past Guard post. Past zebra stripes. Turn left. Then right. Run towards CC. Then turn right. Run opposite the direction of tiger's mouth. Run until middle of nowhere. Turn right. See big guard house. Keep running. See. Place of decorated champions where they are paid an obscene amount of money to kick a round object. Tigers running towards me still. Gets dark. Look left, see people burning paper with dead faces on them. I keep running past the train line. Past the bridge that crosses the tigers. Then turn right. First T turn right. See zebra. Cross. Turn right. Run straight till I reach my block. 5.57km. No timing. To keep time, is to be afraid of it. Why be scared?

Day No.314: Again, it comes around.

I wake up to see God. I think I created him. He pressed this button. Suddenly it went black. Then ... American Megatrends... Testing RAM...1024Mb... And it goes on. Only to see I've upgraded. Not bad. It has no brand. Maybe he listened and now there was no capitalism. There was a brand on my leg. It says, "Property of life." Either it owns us, or we have nothing. A terrible thought. Time owns us too. Shared property. At least it gave us infinite colours and the power to procreate. More bitterness and more sweetness. So many tastes. It tastes like chicken after a while. I wonder why people think that? Why do they go around sniffing other people's asses?

I'm back in my orange cell, only to have more colours than usual. The inmates I have met, the conversations, the hours. But as always, I will return. I know I have changed, but where is my mind?

Day No. 312: That tree in the park.

Beautiful tree I saw. It was standing amidst an ugliness, shaped by concrete. Such lonliness, facing the river where pollution swims into the sea. Nothing it could do but watch, rooted to such an abysmal existance. I'd wish to cut it down, but that'd destroy the beauty of this world. To know such beauty is to prolong its very existance. Oh what misery. But the beauty. I wonder, but my heart tears in two. To put beauty in this world and let it watch the world tear itelf apart, a decision not made by me.

Day No. 308: A little bit of this and that.

I'm taking advice from a female to talk normal. Sometimes I'll talk like that when I have something in me I want to digress.

My best friend's cousin is getting a seperation from her husband. Then I thought, well, now what? People these days. The main attraction these days is the physical attraction of things. I mean, c'mon. When they're in a relationship, they refuse to see the imperfections. The illusion of the relationship. When marriage comes, the kids come, the financial burden. I wonder if people these days have what it takes to make it work. People are simply too superficial these days, sigh.

Remember kids, a relationship is 2 way. He must do things for her and she must do things for him. Carry each other's slack. It's a teamwork! People don't get that. And a true relationship goes beyond flowers and gifts. It's about SACRIFICE! People just don't know this word anymore!

Day No.305: A little respect. So sew it in.

"We could make love not war, and make peace with our hearts."

Frankly my dear I don't give a damn. I'll go to Captain Kirk's house and play Twister all night. Bodies entangled. William's getting fat. No regrets. Live like that. Beam me up Scotty! Not now, but in 50 years time when I'm frozen in time, I and Mr. Blaine would love to see how this world begins or ends. He loves it, I love it. But the situation is bleak. Code Red: Planet Earth. Mother is dying. Everybody is dying but our minds grow. The planet doesn't have a chance.

Right on this very island it is sinking but we're groping for more land. Encroach like a cockroach. We disrecpect the lower caste. Who are we to judge? Must we have so much prejudice in our hearts? I pray, no I beg for our forgiveness. Must I carry you? You're so heavy. I let go of you and you will sink. You're the weakest link, goodbye.

Day No. 304: Normality, what is normal anyway?

Today I will talk normally for once.

Things to do before I die:
1) Run 50 marathons.
2) Go to Norway, see the fjords, see the auroras.
3) Buy a Camper, paint it lime green.
4) Finish my poetry book, give it to my wife-to-be, or if no wife, bury it with me.
5) Learn the clarinet.
6) Honour my parents.
7) To be at peace with the world.
8) Forgive everybody. Forgive the world.
9) Love everybody and forget yourself.
10)Learn, learn, learn.

Day No. 303: Pain.

Man, it's pain. It lives and breathes in me. We're married. I can't live without it. It's in my butt, in my heart, in my solar plexus. Most of all, pain rules my very existence. Without it, how do I grow?

My very existence causes my concern. But my mother is still around. No pain for her. Always protect the ones that you love. When they're gone, then I will lay my body to sleep. When parts of your life becomes outer space, you gaze at the sun so you see yourself. Sometimes I want to sit in that big ass crater in the moon and wait. Until my love implodes. I look and it and say, "You didn't love me back." But it always turns. The moon follows. Cold, distant, aloof. The were being exists. I thought, Can I cast it aside and live in the day instead?

Day No. 302: When life and love collide.

Of course you get Titanic. It doesn't last beacause it is an ocean full of people who tries to destroy it and the guy must freeze his butt off in the ocean until he becomes a human icicle. End of story. Morale of story? Hmm... 1. When falling in love, let it not be in the ocean. 2. Don't be an artist. I realize artists die really young. 3. Make sure ships are equipped with icebreakers before travelling to cold places! Humans don't learn, man!

If life is going to be this short for me, I'll make sure I eat all kinds of sausages before I go. Then I did try to love before. Risky Business. Russian Roulette. Craps. It's a gamble. The house always wins. Enough said. The island is building a casino. An island of love. Love of money. Yuck. Spit! Fine $150. Go to jail and do not pass GO. Do not collect $200. Then you proceed to roll for doubles. oh Crap!

Day No. 300: A Lake

So there was a lake by the house. I thought it was mine but it was occupied by beings that produce lots of oil. So I thought if any bush grew near the house? A lot I see. A LOT!

Day No. 299: An Open Grave.

Yesterday, I buried something on the island. I was alive and kicking when I buried I. I hope I was happy. I wanted to say sorry, but I said it's ok. So I pushed the soil into the open grave. The soil was damp so my hands got muddy. I helped myself and lowered myself. I said a prayer of happiness and thought of what might be. When I said it's done, I closed my eyes. Fade to black.

I awoke with an emptiness. I knew I was dead. But I had to be sure. I went to the grave and saw it was open. Wherever I am, I am truly free and alive and well. I came back to find I sitting on a wooden bench, making peace with the rest of the world. I wonder where I had gone.

Day No.297: Flowers, bombs, a piece of memory ( In no order )

New York Tulips, rare and tastes like whatever you put in it. I've always liked tulips and orchids. Of course they need parents. Of course if one parent decides to punch the solar plexus of the other, the plants can feel free to call the police.
I always believe that there is always power to do the right thing, but one always feels like a flower.

There's the gift. 23 from the red paper. To a purple book of memories. I ask, is it worth it? Deal with the pain, I say. I've been dealing with this for 10 years now. Maybe I'm enjoying it. A book of memories. It's white but in 336 hours it'll be full of conflict, full of hope. Or both.

When you put C4 on people's head, it's a mistake. They die, of course. Then their friends and relatives take revenge. Hate begets hate. They use bullets these days, you know. Luckily there's death sentence. Death for bullets. Buy them at 7-11, use them what you will. The waters carry the blood of our forefathers. Don't they know it's dirty? God's overpopulation control. It's either condoms or guns. Or no men. Or just bees and flowers. Orchids and tulips.

Every 4 years I catch a glimpse of the ghost orchid. I live in a glass house. But I see the ghost orchids every 4 years. I have no luck, or bad luck. They're the same. *Trumpets blare*