I’m lying on a hotel bed and it’s too early to sleep.

My mom said I laughed in my sleep last night.

You were in my dreams and I think this is the first time it’s happened.
I don’t remember anything that would’ve made me laugh, but I’m sure the dream started out nice. What I remember wasn’t quite so.

There was this mad scientist lady (what?) that was determined to keep us apart. I think I know her, but her face is a blur to me now.

There was an underground passage and an underground laboratory.  I was running from her (why am I the coward?) and you were running after both of us.

She cornered me. Laughed. You grabbed her and stopped her from reaching me. She threw a flask down at my feet. It shattered. I felt dizzy.

She explained that it was a love potion that would change my heart (make me fall in love with her?). You laughed in disbelief.

I remember looking at you helplessly, an expression in my eyes signalled for you to save me (what…?). You didn’t answer that signal.

Instead, you made a bet. You bet her that even after the potion took effect that I would still only be drawn to you. Why did you make such a bet? What if you were wrong? Why am I asking questions about my own dream?

It hurt me that you would just leave me there,  cringing on the cold tile floor. But you were right,  I did still reach for you in the haze of that unknown chemical. You took me by the arm and we left together. I was mad, but I forgave you instantly (seriously?). Is this what happiness is?

Why was I laughing?

you found me

the scales tip from side to side

and frankly, i just can’t decide

i’m sorry to leave you hanging like this

but i simply cannot seem to dismiss

this silly notion inside my head

to take back all that i have said

to stop midway, lie down on the road

to let my secrets and worries unload

to let the sunlight shine through my thoughts

to let nature naturally untie the knots

but you don’t feel the same as i do

when faced with uncertainty as thick as glue

but you don’t like it when i’m not clear

when all my lines being to smear

i’m sorry my fish never learned to swim

i’m sorry i do things on a whim


you found me when i was feeling lost

but my love is at such a mirthless cost

you found me, but i’m running once again

no rope, no string, no bond, no chain

can constrain my upthrust thinking

and our love, our love is forever sinking


but maybe a little mending can fix the leak

and maybe we’ll stumble upon the magic we seek

and maybe, just maybe, we’ll learn to float someday

and we’ll watch as our fears and doubts drift away.


There are times when I don’t say the words I want to say because I’m too scared of rejection, too fearful of things that I might not want to hear. It eats away at me, gnawing at the edges of my dreams. Then I’m forced to cover the whole affair with a sprinkle of petty lies.

There are times when I hurl out all the wrong words and I say what I don’t mean – but you can’t possibly know that I don’t mean what I’ve said. There’s so much regret and it won’t leave me alone. I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to.

There are times when I’m feeling all jumbled up inside as if a hurricane had blown all my structured thoughts apart. It is in these times when I spew out nonsense from my lips and throw puzzles into the air, expecting someone else to figure it out for me. No one ever does. We’re both left confused in the silence. You bite your lips trying to understand what I’m saying. I wish I knew myself.

There are times when I speak the words from my heart – honestly, fervidly, with a smile tucked to my cheeks. These are the times that I like the most and also the times that you like the most. However, these are also the times that come the least.

My mind is so selfish. She doesn’t like to share her thoughts and when she does, she likes to speak in riddles. She loves you, but she loves to hurt you too. I apologize for her absurd personality, but I don’t think I can change much about her. She is my mind after all. Stubborn and resilient towards change. Naive and rash. Always thinking the wrong things.

There are times when I want to tell you I love you and forget everything else. These times are the most common. Whether or not I say the words, however, is an entirely different matter. Why is it so difficult to tell someone you love a simple three words? More than fear, it is my pride that I cannot spar against.

It’s really hard for my silly mind to come to terms with fact.

But you know, I’m sure that behind her persistent whining and adamant facade that

she really loves you.

All of you.

Your teasing. Your ridiculously put together jokes. Those puns that don’t really work. Your many faces and many moods. Your calming, soothing words. Your kindness and your strangeness. Your laugh and your sarcasm.

All of you.

What are we?

I’m tired of the sugar-coating, tired of the lies,

I can see the resentment haunting in your eyes.

I don’t know when I lost you in the snow storm of our past,

But day after day, the layers piled on –

too cold, too thick, too fast.


I once called you my best friend, but as time wore us down,

I’ve come to finally realize that you’ve never been around.

I thought that as the sands trickled down the glass –

that you would never change

that we would stay the same,

But you’re no longer the person that I knew, the soul behind your name.


Yet you still stand by my side as if you know me well at all,

Yet you still expect my hand steadying your fall,

Yet you dare to judge me as if you’ve loved me all along,

But your words are spitfire of all that’s false and wrong.


Who are you? And what are we?

I’m hurt, but I still believe it mindlessly

That somehow, someway, somewhere soon,

We’ll be laughing together in the afternoon.

[GAME] Poy Poy

I haven’t done a game “review” in a long time, so I figured I’d reflect on one of the most memorable video games of my childhood: Poy Poy, a game on the Playstation.


Having only owned the Japanese version of the game, I have never known it by its real name and have always just called it the “Rock-throwing game”, but out of plain curiosity, I recently looked up the name.

For me, Poy Poy was the first game in which I learned to button smash – to mindlessly press buttons on the controller and hope something worked. Adding to this effect, everything was in Japanese from the instructions to the characters to the different gloves you could equip. It was basically guess and test for me, having no knowledge of the Japanese language at the time. Looking back, most of it was in Katakana so if I played it today, I’d be able to decipher the majority of the items.

There was something so gruesomely violent and yet enticing about throwing rocks at each other. It was so pointless that it was fun. Whenever my brother or I got bored playing one of the more quality Playstation games such as Final Fantasy or Digimon, we’d retire and play Poy Poy for the heck of it. The feeling of competition and randomness that arose from battling each other in the arena of object-throwing was exhilarating. It was so ridiculous that we would laugh at times – especially on the park map which was dark and often had a roaming dinosaur on the map. Ah, that was always both my favourite and least favourite.

My best friend would sometimes come over and we’d throw rocks at each other for hours, not really understanding the point of the game as it was completely in Japanese. In reality, the game would be terrifying: throwing a rock three times your size would not only be impossible but superhuman-like. I loved the polygon-shaped people and their wacky hairstyles. I loved how there were jelly bean like things you could collect and have no idea what it would do – mostly due to the fact that again, the game was in Japanese and we had no clue what we were doing.

In the end, I guess Poy Poy served as an experience to show that no matter what language a game is in, you can enjoy it. There are, of course, limits on this as it would be completely unpleasant to play a role-playing game without understanding the story, but for something like this, it worked out for the best. I’m sure if the game was in English and I understood how to play, I would’ve had a completely different experience, but the fact that it was in a language foreign to me  urged me to not only indulge in Japanese culture, but to have fun without worrying too much about strategy or what not.

Poy Poy, for me, will always be that one game that leaves me grinning in the thought of it. It was never popular and it was rare to find anyone who had even heard of it, but it was special – something unique that will forever be a small chip of the video game world.

As I was unable to find a decent video of Poy Poy, I present to you one from Poy Poy 2, which is equally awesome and um…updated.

41 – Merry Christmas Everyone!

I hope everyone has had a wonderful Christmas full of happiness, warmth, sweetness, and joy this year.

I wished long and hard for a white Christmas, but the weather spirits were not in my favour. Luckily, I enjoyed well the one day we did have snow.

2012-12-19 10.52.55

I’m glad to finally be on Winter Break now. I’ll definitely be around more often in the weeks to come as I get myself organized and far less stressed and busy.

Reflecting back on the past year, I haven’t really changed a lot, but at the same time, I have changed entirely. I am still who I was at the essence, but certain aspects of myself have changed. My friends or whom I view as friends have changed. My comfort zone has shifted. It’s weird how the little things can have such an impact.

As it approaches the new year, I’ll try to make new resolutions and reflect on the ones I made last year (most of which I’m sure I was unable to accomplish). Still, small steps are still steps and I’ll get there someday.

Very merry Christmas to all of y’all! (:

33 – A pledge to be active again. ♥

My thoughts have been extremely muddled lately.

So muddled, I haven’t had the motivation to do much of anything.

Work has piled up.

And this poor blog has been neglected. All the wonderful blogs I am used to reading are being neglected

But no more.

I miss having all this wonderful inspiration right in front of me.

Time to get down to reading…and writing maybe. ♥

26 – Listening

I have always, always, been a good listener.

It has always been the matter of not having a person to listen to and not the matter of myself not being able to listen. I mean I’ve been alone for a lot of my life. Even as a kid. I became isolated from kindergarten onward. It took forever to sneak back into the status quo. I still don’t quite fit in, but I’m a whole lot more comfortable with who I am now.

And the Internet. Oh, I can’t even begin to describe my feelings and attitudes towards this global network. I have a lot of stories stored up in my head – stories of other people’s lives. The ones who trusted me enough to tell me a little more about themselves. Of course, these remain their stories and I’m not here to share them.

But instead I want to tell the story of my younger self and of the only person in my entire life who listened unconditionally. He did. I told him everything, every single little thing. I doubt he even remembers me now, but I remember him. He made a difference in my life. He taught me to look past the tedious bits of life and see the happiness awaiting at the finish line. He taught me how to stay positive despite my constant fits of depression and loneliness. We stayed up late talking about me. Just me.

I don’t know a single fucking thing about him. Oh yes, I should probably mention that this is another one of my ‘online relationships’ – but it is more than that. It was more than just two strangers randomly chatting. He was family to me – as were others…but they never got so close.

So now the only thing I know about him is that he was studying in Florida, going through his second year of college, I believe. I was ten. He was probably around nineteen. And yet, everything felt so natural.

I feel like I had to grow up too fast.

Can I please, please be that four year old kid again?

The one that laughed on top of her father’s shoulders, the one that collected cute little Pokemon plushies, the one that used to be so sure of where she was going?

Oh life. You play with me.

—tumblr: I’m sorry.

I am Butterfly

They have pushed and pulled and tugged ’til not a thing remains in sacred state,

‘Til not a thing remains but wretched hate,

‘Til not a thing but evil lies in wait.


Cocoon. Protected from hazards, but fragile at best,

Idle in some blatant rest,

My patience served and put to test.


Still waiting for the those bullies to take their games and stow them away,

Please, I beg you, no pain today,

No hisses of profanity, no bitter dismay.


Apple falls from a crooked tree, gravity weighs me down,

It’s time to unleash, time to hit ground,

I know this scent, I’m sky bound.


No longer contained, no longer held back,

I break through this barrier’s minuscule crack,

I’m set to attack.


Vanessa annabella, monarch of the day and overseer of the night,

I am butterfly, I arch my amber wings and take flight.


If you don’t get this poem, it’s better not to ask. It’s something personal I’d rather not elaborate on.


Sometimes I think about him and how I took his place

How I removed his shadow with a single sly embrace,

How my life would’ve been forfeit to his and his alone,

How I would be nonexistent if only he had grown.


He never had a name, there never was a chance,

Another victim to the death knight’s lance.

I can’t believe my fortune is wrapped around his so tightly,

The tables would’ve turned if fate had changed only slightly.


I’ve seen the casket in which he continues to lie and haunt,

He hisses in resentment and overlying want,

I don’t think he’s been properly mourned as I haven’t visited for years,

I believe he’s been forgotten by all my family and their peers.


I don’t think he’s angry, but I bet he wanted to shine,

I don’t know what I’d say if he asked for what’s now