Alright... So maybe this doesn't merit the title of an 'Annual Update' (considering my last post was in March), but it sure is close to one, ain't it?
Anyway, I'm at my office desk. Time is 9:31 A.M. and this is my last week at work as I've been here for almost 2 months. Needless to say, I have ample time to kill since Mondays are usually pretty quiet since the US market isn't open yet. I have to admit that I miss my first few weeks at work since it was the busiest time of my internship- I was busy learning the nooks and crannies of shipping and was quite excited that I managed to bag responsibilities some interns would kill to have (Good luck kissing my knuckles, bitches). I'm also the youngest intern here, so jealous people... suck on this.
Yes, yes... My character portrayed on this blog is rather big headed. As I've said if it's not to your liking then there's nothing I can do about it. However, I would suggest you forward an application to the welfare department. Maybe, just maybe... They can take care of you. That or you can always talk to PETV... That's right, boys... It ain't PETA. Stop blinking, you read it right: It's PETV ( People for the Ethical treatment of Vegetables), an organization formed especially for people who care for you (Aww...) Here: http://www.petv.org/
I'm sure you'll finally find a safe haven to live in...
Enough said, I need my espresso as I'm falling asleep. I just hope the emails start rolling in for work to do. Gracias.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Beauty in Sorrow... That haunting tune.
I have had the opportunity to come across a very beautiful person. Someone who I was foreign to several hours ago, but have grown some what familiar to... Because of our conversation. He reminded me of myself... and the old streak I had from before. I feel his pain and would love to comfort him in person, but sadly, circumstances do not permit... I hope you don't mind me having post something regarding our conversation, but if you really want me to, I would respect your wishes and delete this.
If utopia was possible, I believe that in every heart these words would echo. These very words by my friend, Opeth* (*name changed to keep his identity a secret) who is at a tender age yet so enlightened on how the world should be,
"I would love every single person.... in the world... I would love them with such a great intense love... more love then anyone could ever feel... I would love everyone with everything i am. with my whole heart and soul.. I would love complete strangers.. even if they did the most hurtful hateful things. I would still love them... and ask nothing in return.. except.. for them to let me..."
So much hurt... So much room for hate to grow and manifest. O, Opeth... Be strong and do not fret... Though fragile you may be, you hold so much beauty. That porcelain heart you have will mend in due time... Bit by bit... For only time is the true healer of all wounds...
That... And the love that radiates within you... Love can be found in other places other than yourself, my dear... But for you it may seem nearly impossible to achieve with that amount of love, that intensity held captive by your heart... It burns stronger than the love around you and its flames may blind you from seeing what is before you. Your friends... Your loved ones and perhaps a figure that you would surrender to and feel comfort and care... For love can be found in so many ways... And I only pray that you may find that contentment upon realizing what lays before you.
I sincerely do. I love you, my dear friend... Though we do not know each other for a long period of time, but like you, I would love even complete strangers and want nothing in return. Never ever stop believing in yourself and the people around you. Just know that my shoulder will always be available for you to cry on if ever you need me... or to share moments of silence, because many of us know that sometimes nothing comforts more than pure darkness enlaced with taciturnity...
It's okay to smile or... cry, Opeth*
There will always be someone there for you :)
Dedicated to you,
Wax Doll
If utopia was possible, I believe that in every heart these words would echo. These very words by my friend, Opeth* (*name changed to keep his identity a secret) who is at a tender age yet so enlightened on how the world should be,
"I would love every single person.... in the world... I would love them with such a great intense love... more love then anyone could ever feel... I would love everyone with everything i am. with my whole heart and soul.. I would love complete strangers.. even if they did the most hurtful hateful things. I would still love them... and ask nothing in return.. except.. for them to let me..."
So much hurt... So much room for hate to grow and manifest. O, Opeth... Be strong and do not fret... Though fragile you may be, you hold so much beauty. That porcelain heart you have will mend in due time... Bit by bit... For only time is the true healer of all wounds...
That... And the love that radiates within you... Love can be found in other places other than yourself, my dear... But for you it may seem nearly impossible to achieve with that amount of love, that intensity held captive by your heart... It burns stronger than the love around you and its flames may blind you from seeing what is before you. Your friends... Your loved ones and perhaps a figure that you would surrender to and feel comfort and care... For love can be found in so many ways... And I only pray that you may find that contentment upon realizing what lays before you.
I sincerely do. I love you, my dear friend... Though we do not know each other for a long period of time, but like you, I would love even complete strangers and want nothing in return. Never ever stop believing in yourself and the people around you. Just know that my shoulder will always be available for you to cry on if ever you need me... or to share moments of silence, because many of us know that sometimes nothing comforts more than pure darkness enlaced with taciturnity...
It's okay to smile or... cry, Opeth*
There will always be someone there for you :)
Dedicated to you,
Wax Doll
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Random thought bothering me...
So the clock currently shows 11:37 P.M. (Kidding, it really is 11:36 P.M., but seeing that I have a habit of... God damned it... It switched to 11:37 P.M.! Nevermind scratch that.) I'm having difficulty in sleeping as I have a lot running through my mind. Was tired earlier on, cause I downed two cans of beer within 7 minutes or so, just because I want to finish my 12 pack of beer sitting on my bedroom floor. Now, I'm wide awake though... Just watched a few episodes of Scrubs to try to get things off my mind, but it doesn't seem to be doing the trick. Even if Turk gives me the McGiggles... Ooo... That sexy sexy black man... with his killer dance moves... Er... yeah.
I don't think I want to disclose what exactly is bothering me, but I've been happy for the passed couple of weeks even though college has been hectic with the butt load of exams and assignments that keeps getting shoveled onto my path. I've been talking more to Becky and Adam. Two friends which I've been spending most of my time with... They are wonderful people, but somehow I think that limiting myself to just two friends and being a hermit in my room isn't quite so comforting to my mental health. I enjoy being alone a lot since I've got here to the States simply because I refuse to socialize with company that may prove detrimental to my future or character (Ahem...) I don't know. I think after a while I get scared when I get too close to people. It's ridiculous... Maybe it's because I'm so used to just chillin and being myself. I'm not lonely... I have my games to keep me entertained, but lately... I'm just not feeling the whole gaming thing.I do not want to admit that I am growing bored of it, because they say it's the first step of getting over it... And seriously, I don't want to get over it.
I know I should be happy since "It's effin' spring break!", but I'm not feeling it. Spring break just means I have more time in my hands and that means more time for me to generate unnecessary thoughts when I'm being idle and pathetic. Yet, I'm used to being lazy. Dwindling my time in front of the computer instead of studying. I'm lacking motivation and studying. Every time I pick up a book, I go into a stalemate... My eyes start to twitch which is followed by me stiffling a yawn. Jesus, I'm such a creature of habit. Oh, I know some of you numb nuts are probably reading this and going "This post is nothing more than just a rant." To which I would reply, "I am well aware of that, so Fuck yoooo, because it's my blogspot and you are my followers so when I tell you to touch your nose and hop on one foot, you do as I say!" (Good boy, Billy... Now bend over and touch your toes... That's it... You're such a good boy *pats*) Any questions?
Oh, I went to the Heard Museum today for a Native American fair. It was pretty insightful and the artwork were extraordinary and very intricate. I had a chance to try out the Indian Fry Bread done by the navajo tribe... It was pretty darn scrumptious. The dances and the drumming they did were awesome too. I know it sounds boring the way I sort of word it (not usually my style), but I'm still bothered by what happened earlier on. It's not a big deal, but... Oh well, whatever *snorts*
I just wish I could take off and go on a holiday right now. I need a break. Alone. Do some recollection of thought and just be myself and think in some other place where I'm foreign to yet can be comfortable in. I don't know. I feel somewhat lost, yet I'm aware of where I am if that makes sense *rolls eyes and brushes her hair back*. I guess, we all have these random moments from time to time, aye?
That. Or it's the Indian fry bread messin' with me.
Signing off,
Wax Doll
I don't think I want to disclose what exactly is bothering me, but I've been happy for the passed couple of weeks even though college has been hectic with the butt load of exams and assignments that keeps getting shoveled onto my path. I've been talking more to Becky and Adam. Two friends which I've been spending most of my time with... They are wonderful people, but somehow I think that limiting myself to just two friends and being a hermit in my room isn't quite so comforting to my mental health. I enjoy being alone a lot since I've got here to the States simply because I refuse to socialize with company that may prove detrimental to my future or character (Ahem...) I don't know. I think after a while I get scared when I get too close to people. It's ridiculous... Maybe it's because I'm so used to just chillin and being myself. I'm not lonely... I have my games to keep me entertained, but lately... I'm just not feeling the whole gaming thing.
I know I should be happy since "It's effin' spring break!", but I'm not feeling it. Spring break just means I have more time in my hands and that means more time for me to generate unnecessary thoughts when I'm being idle and pathetic. Yet, I'm used to being lazy. Dwindling my time in front of the computer instead of studying. I'm lacking motivation and studying. Every time I pick up a book, I go into a stalemate... My eyes start to twitch which is followed by me stiffling a yawn. Jesus, I'm such a creature of habit. Oh, I know some of you numb nuts are probably reading this and going "This post is nothing more than just a rant." To which I would reply, "I am well aware of that, so Fuck yoooo, because it's my blogspot and you are my followers so when I tell you to touch your nose and hop on one foot, you do as I say!" (Good boy, Billy... Now bend over and touch your toes... That's it... You're such a good boy *pats*) Any questions?
Oh, I went to the Heard Museum today for a Native American fair. It was pretty insightful and the artwork were extraordinary and very intricate. I had a chance to try out the Indian Fry Bread done by the navajo tribe... It was pretty darn scrumptious. The dances and the drumming they did were awesome too. I know it sounds boring the way I sort of word it (not usually my style), but I'm still bothered by what happened earlier on. It's not a big deal, but... Oh well, whatever *snorts*
I just wish I could take off and go on a holiday right now. I need a break. Alone. Do some recollection of thought and just be myself and think in some other place where I'm foreign to yet can be comfortable in. I don't know. I feel somewhat lost, yet I'm aware of where I am if that makes sense *rolls eyes and brushes her hair back*. I guess, we all have these random moments from time to time, aye?
That. Or it's the Indian fry bread messin' with me.
Signing off,
Wax Doll
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Broken down
It's 7.45 on a Wednesday morning and I am feeling very discouraged and down. I've decided to skip my 8 O'clock Dance class as I am experiencing bad body aches from Monday. I've mentioned to my aunt that I might withdraw from the dance class since my schedule feels like obese sardines in a can. While I was having breakfast in the morning, my uncle came into the kitchen and was like, "So are you joining me in the twinkle toes club?"
Confuzzled, I said "Sure." He said that the twinkle toes club was the club made up by people who can't dance. Oh Wow... I just smiled weakly and by the next second my aunt was yelling at him, "It's not that she can't dance, it's because she feels discourage from all the memorizing of dance steps. The teacher has no problem with her when Cheryll went to have a word with her!" My uncle chuckled and said, "Oh... I'm sure anyone can dance better than me. I usually get very frustrated and stop, even if I have the best instructor." I'm not sure how far that's true, but from what I heard from him and my aunt talking about him getting really frustrated and walking out of the dance class they were in. It should be feasible that he isn't that gifted with dancing.
Anyway... I haven't been feeling good with the comments my uncle has been making. Like the other day, he was saying "You gotta admit that you don't study as much as you should, Cheryll." after a conversation he was having with my aunt about some other person on some other topic. Immediately, the words What the hell were dancing in my mind and at the tip of my tongue. I bit down on those words, refraining... Then, I went on defense mode. "I study, what do you want me to do? Study out here in the dining room and let myself be noticed, studying? You and aunt Mena are at work most of the time and when you're home I lock myself in my room unless it's time for dinner. How would you know when I study and when I don't?"
Then there was the other time in the morning when I was having my breakfast, he came into the kitchen again and saw the used pot on the stove. "You should clean it, Cheryll. Don't let other people pick up after you." What am I? Five? I always do my dishes! I replied saying that I was going to clean it after I finished eating and he nodded and say "Oh..." I would like to stress that he was trying to be mean about it. But seriously... I always wash the dishes and clean the cooking utensils when I'm finished with them even when I cook for the whole family. I never had a habit of using them and leaving it in the sink, cause I AM living in their house. Unlike him, I'm sorry to say that sometimes he leaves stuff in the sink to soak first and all that. He usually gets yelling from my aunt if he does that. Sometimes, I wash it for him though when I'm doing my own dishes/glasses.
I don't know. These three separate occasions has made me feel really depressed. As if I'm some kind of failure in his eyes. I don't think he is aware of it and I'm sure he isn't intentionally trying to make me feel that way, cause I got a feeling he was trying to be funny today, but I'm beaten down. He's actually a good uncle, aside from the three separate occasions that has left me feeling like... Shyit. I understand he wants me to do well in my grades and to be responsible for what I do around the house... Something as simple as... Doing the dishes. But seriously, cut me some slack... Don't try to be funny about the whole dance class thing. I've performed on stage for dances for goodness sake. I just get very frustrated when the bloody learning process in class is so fast paced and our homework is to go home and practise it. How am I f-ing supposed to practise it when it's such a huge chain of steps that I can't even remember? >.<
I want to withdraw from the course, but if I do I will feel like a failure. If I continue with it and do well, I will get to prove it to my uncle. Lol... Actually the second one would feel great, but not my intention. It's a vigorous course and I've spoken to a few other clasmates regarding it. They say that they feel the same though when they can't remember the steps, they just try to improvise or do their own steps. Trouble with me is that I feel the need to do exactly the same steps as my instructor. So there's that dilemma.
Anyway, I'm going to get ready for my next class. Not skipping all of them, ya know?
Burn me with the end of a cigar, will ya?
Wax Doll- Out.
Confuzzled, I said "Sure." He said that the twinkle toes club was the club made up by people who can't dance. Oh Wow... I just smiled weakly and by the next second my aunt was yelling at him, "It's not that she can't dance, it's because she feels discourage from all the memorizing of dance steps. The teacher has no problem with her when Cheryll went to have a word with her!" My uncle chuckled and said, "Oh... I'm sure anyone can dance better than me. I usually get very frustrated and stop, even if I have the best instructor." I'm not sure how far that's true, but from what I heard from him and my aunt talking about him getting really frustrated and walking out of the dance class they were in. It should be feasible that he isn't that gifted with dancing.
Anyway... I haven't been feeling good with the comments my uncle has been making. Like the other day, he was saying "You gotta admit that you don't study as much as you should, Cheryll." after a conversation he was having with my aunt about some other person on some other topic. Immediately, the words What the hell were dancing in my mind and at the tip of my tongue. I bit down on those words, refraining... Then, I went on defense mode. "I study, what do you want me to do? Study out here in the dining room and let myself be noticed, studying? You and aunt Mena are at work most of the time and when you're home I lock myself in my room unless it's time for dinner. How would you know when I study and when I don't?"
Then there was the other time in the morning when I was having my breakfast, he came into the kitchen again and saw the used pot on the stove. "You should clean it, Cheryll. Don't let other people pick up after you." What am I? Five? I always do my dishes! I replied saying that I was going to clean it after I finished eating and he nodded and say "Oh..." I would like to stress that he was trying to be mean about it. But seriously... I always wash the dishes and clean the cooking utensils when I'm finished with them even when I cook for the whole family. I never had a habit of using them and leaving it in the sink, cause I AM living in their house. Unlike him, I'm sorry to say that sometimes he leaves stuff in the sink to soak first and all that. He usually gets yelling from my aunt if he does that. Sometimes, I wash it for him though when I'm doing my own dishes/glasses.
I don't know. These three separate occasions has made me feel really depressed. As if I'm some kind of failure in his eyes. I don't think he is aware of it and I'm sure he isn't intentionally trying to make me feel that way, cause I got a feeling he was trying to be funny today, but I'm beaten down. He's actually a good uncle, aside from the three separate occasions that has left me feeling like... Shyit. I understand he wants me to do well in my grades and to be responsible for what I do around the house... Something as simple as... Doing the dishes. But seriously, cut me some slack... Don't try to be funny about the whole dance class thing. I've performed on stage for dances for goodness sake. I just get very frustrated when the bloody learning process in class is so fast paced and our homework is to go home and practise it. How am I f-ing supposed to practise it when it's such a huge chain of steps that I can't even remember? >.<
I want to withdraw from the course, but if I do I will feel like a failure. If I continue with it and do well, I will get to prove it to my uncle. Lol... Actually the second one would feel great, but not my intention. It's a vigorous course and I've spoken to a few other clasmates regarding it. They say that they feel the same though when they can't remember the steps, they just try to improvise or do their own steps. Trouble with me is that I feel the need to do exactly the same steps as my instructor. So there's that dilemma.
Anyway, I'm going to get ready for my next class. Not skipping all of them, ya know?
Burn me with the end of a cigar, will ya?
Wax Doll- Out.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Remorseful... I am not.
Alright, I believe that my long leave of absence does not merit a need of explanation since I am superior to all you creatures out there (No, I am not delusional... I am merely a snob at least in my own sad, little, pathetic world). But... Owing to the need of redeeming myself in order to better my principles, I have decided to just have a monologue on this neat little black space.
I am currently sitting outside the Memorial Union of ASU, taking in a breather during a break in between Human Sexuality (Pervs, be very jealous) class and Microbiology. It's about 60 degrees Fahrenheit outside, so my extremities are feeling awfully sashimi-like (For those of you who eat stale Japanese food- think again). My college experience away from home has been somewhat of a challenge in the respects of having to juggle three majors (that might change due to my deep desire to return to the ways of procrastination). I'm taking maximum credit hours this semester and guess which class I am stressed out with? Nope, not microbiology. Nope, I'm a pro at human sexuality (Shut up, you!). Dance class. I'm taking modern dance for non-majors. Can you believe I'm stressed out with a class that requires little reading (Although I do have to write 6 page critiques of dance concerts I attend)? I've had a casual conversation with my instructor after class today and she said there is no reason for me to be concerned with my in-class participation. Well, of course, I'm graceful, right?
Pssh... The one thing that bothers me the most is when I have to go back and practise. I find myself forgetting the moves and it frustrates me so much, because I'm a perfectionist. Especially, when I find myself extremely motivated to do well. I didn't see myself having trouble with the class since I've been involved with the performing arts and did martial arts before (not to mention coach the younglings). Whatever... I pissed at myself for being iffy about the whole situation. The dance class is also quite fast paced. She jumps from one dance to another as if I have fucking photographic memory or some bloody visual recorder embedded in my scalp. Don't get me wrong... I love my teacher. She's very graceful in her moves, even if she's carrying a parasite in her. For those of you who doesn't know that means, I shall translate it for you. She's 4 months pregnant. Bloody hell... If i had a thing in me, I would be hibernating for the whole 9 months or... vegetating (Mmm... Broccoli).
Anyway enough about that... Life in Arizona has been virtualized for me. Meaning, I spend most of my time on my laptop. Being an internet geek. My activities online, revolved around chatting, keeping myself updated on political happenings (since politics is one of my majors) on nytimes.com, checking my email, looking at t-shirt sites designed by independent artists and of course... Gaming. Woooooo hoooo! (Cheer with me crowd! I need you all to remain faithful surbodinators. Yes, that's it. Such good little boys and girls)
So I'm freezing my butt off here, chugging on a can of doubleshot expresso and cream from starbucks. The weather is beautiful this time of the year (as opposed to being hot and humid), even if it does dry your skin here. So urm... What else? Oh, yeah, a lot of you have been asking when I'll be returning. I'll let you know now... End of May. So, if anyone comes and questions me about the time of return, I'll wave my finger at you and call you a disobedient little snitch (Then direct you to this blog).
So yeah, that's about it for today. I have to pack up and get my ass to the Microbiology lecture. Weee! Bacteria... I wish I was those little buggers. Such fun!
Infest you later,
Cheryll xx
I am currently sitting outside the Memorial Union of ASU, taking in a breather during a break in between Human Sexuality (Pervs, be very jealous) class and Microbiology. It's about 60 degrees Fahrenheit outside, so my extremities are feeling awfully sashimi-like (For those of you who eat stale Japanese food- think again). My college experience away from home has been somewhat of a challenge in the respects of having to juggle three majors (that might change due to my deep desire to return to the ways of procrastination). I'm taking maximum credit hours this semester and guess which class I am stressed out with? Nope, not microbiology. Nope, I'm a pro at human sexuality (Shut up, you!). Dance class. I'm taking modern dance for non-majors. Can you believe I'm stressed out with a class that requires little reading (Although I do have to write 6 page critiques of dance concerts I attend)? I've had a casual conversation with my instructor after class today and she said there is no reason for me to be concerned with my in-class participation. Well, of course, I'm graceful, right?
Pssh... The one thing that bothers me the most is when I have to go back and practise. I find myself forgetting the moves and it frustrates me so much, because I'm a perfectionist. Especially, when I find myself extremely motivated to do well. I didn't see myself having trouble with the class since I've been involved with the performing arts and did martial arts before (not to mention coach the younglings). Whatever... I pissed at myself for being iffy about the whole situation. The dance class is also quite fast paced. She jumps from one dance to another as if I have fucking photographic memory or some bloody visual recorder embedded in my scalp. Don't get me wrong... I love my teacher. She's very graceful in her moves, even if she's carrying a parasite in her. For those of you who doesn't know that means, I shall translate it for you. She's 4 months pregnant. Bloody hell... If i had a thing in me, I would be hibernating for the whole 9 months or... vegetating (Mmm... Broccoli).
Anyway enough about that... Life in Arizona has been virtualized for me. Meaning, I spend most of my time on my laptop. Being an internet geek. My activities online, revolved around chatting, keeping myself updated on political happenings (since politics is one of my majors) on nytimes.com, checking my email, looking at t-shirt sites designed by independent artists and of course... Gaming. Woooooo hoooo! (Cheer with me crowd! I need you all to remain faithful surbodinators. Yes, that's it. Such good little boys and girls)
So I'm freezing my butt off here, chugging on a can of doubleshot expresso and cream from starbucks. The weather is beautiful this time of the year (as opposed to being hot and humid), even if it does dry your skin here. So urm... What else? Oh, yeah, a lot of you have been asking when I'll be returning. I'll let you know now... End of May. So, if anyone comes and questions me about the time of return, I'll wave my finger at you and call you a disobedient little snitch (Then direct you to this blog).
So yeah, that's about it for today. I have to pack up and get my ass to the Microbiology lecture. Weee! Bacteria... I wish I was those little buggers. Such fun!
Infest you later,
Cheryll xx
Monday, November 19, 2007
Not your Every Day Conventional Dream
I wrote this earlier on in the morning and thought i'd put it up:
It’s past 4 in the morning… I’ve just pulled the tiny thread switch of my bed lamp to have light illuminate the part of my room, where I’m sitting up in bed, ensuring myself that I am fully awake. Flinching from the blinding light, I groan and then plop my head back down in bed, my hand reaching up for my forehead to give it a light rub. After a few minutes, I throw the covers off me and put on some clothes as I head to the desk where my laptop lays open.
I’ve just had a bad dream. I’m hardly shaken from nightmares as some of you may know. In fact, I enjoy sleeping through most of them and being able to jot them down, analyze and have myself connect with it… I read your thoughts. You must be thinking: “If you enjoy it that much it shouldn’t be called a nightmare.”
Or should it? I’m quite sure what I've dreamt in the past were indeed nightmares since they fit one or more of the definitions below.
19th November 2007
Time: Between 1 to 4 a.m.
–mostly likely during the witching/ devil’s hour, which is from 3 to 4 in the morning
(Woke up at approximately 4 o’clock)
Feeling: Disturbed, feel of anxiety and a rush of adrenaline
I am walking downwards on a road which is located on some sort of hill. I presume that I’ve just got done with my classes at a university of some sort… Dusk has just set in as a chilling wind billows pass, shaking the leaves of the rather large trees that line the road as I journey down the path all by my lonesome while the leaves gently rain down. As I was entering a busier part of the city, I hear some shouting coming from a man exiting a shop to the right of me. The man wore a scowl on his face, dressed in a simple suit, carrying an infant in his arms. Upon looking up as he walked past, his weird features were emphasized by the glasses he wore. His eyes were shifty and grey blue, his lips were pursed with anger as he continued to ramble on, at the child. He placed the baby into some sort of back seat that resembled a pouch which was mounted behind a grey horse, he then hopped on as the baby wailed out loud. “Shut up.” He ordered, but the child did not. Instinctively, he reached behind and held the child up, shaking it in a violent sort of manner, hitting the child with loud thumps on its head. That triggered a few of us to shout and approach him, beckoning him to stop.
“You don’t understand!” His bloodshot eyes were buldging behind his thick glasses as he shouted defensively. Without any warning, he placed one hand on the infant’s head and the other around its neck, giving it a sharp twist in one violent motion… A loud ‘CRACK’ was heard followed by my scream. Yet, the child was miraculously… very much alive. Gun shots echoed throughout the city as the odd man fell to the ground lying in his own pool of blood while the infant was given medical attention.
~~~~~~
I stood trembling next to a priest or a holy man of some sort as the candles flickered hauntingly in the dungeons as sounds of water droplets could be heard upon coming into contact with the ground, echoing. Loud breathing and pants came from the man that laid before us, strapped into place by thick, hardy ropes. “Hold on tight to both his hands.”
I did what I was told by the priest, gripping hard, clasping both his hands together in mine as I muttered the ‘Our Father’ beneath my breath. The man that lied on the concrete platform laughed hysterically, “You have got to be joking.” His dark shoulder-length hair was wild and wavy, lined with sweat as his eyes rolled around madly. His clothes from top to toe were covered both with fresh and coagulated blood. “Do you have any idea who I am?” He questioned me while giggling in a sick manner. I said nothing as I shivered from the bad aura he radiated.
“You’re doing well. Ignore him and continue to hold on tight.” The priest words though comforting they might have been, didn’t preserve the feeling for long as the man burst out laughing maniacally, “Forgot something?” He stuck both hands in the air. “Oh, you poor thing.” I didn’t feel him come undone from my grip as far as my effort was concerned… I felt weak and sick as fear trickled down my spine, poisoning my courage as I broke down and cried. I felt the dust of the underground tunnel choke me as I lost sight of things… What I last heard was a loud yell and my world ended in darkness.
***
The man with wild hair strode across the room in the same blood splattered outfit he had on… He marched towards a dark corner and tugged something heavy across the room. A body cocooned up in bloody bandages was what he was lugging. It resembled a mummy, only with hair strewn at the top of its head. Muffles and familiar loud wails were coming from it. A hole could be seen at the side of its abdomen… a deep wound. It cried mournfully and let out a high pitch shriek as it struggled, trying to get free, but it was all in… vain.
That person may very well be… me.
So that’s the bad dream I had… or at least what I remembered of it. The infant at the beginning and the man at the end from my interpretation is quite conclusively ‘The Anti-Christ’. What I found strange throughout the dream though was my age. My age did not vary from the time the Anti-Christ was an infant to the time where I was by the priest, helping with the procession. I would presume that it was either through possessions that the Anti-Christ went about or that I was just mistaken to have been un-tampered by age. Needless to say, the dream felt very real and I’ve only had one other incident where I’ve been subjected to the Anti-Christ matter (other than movies of course), which is late last year while I was in mass during the sermon of a priest… I had a vision (I’ll write about it some other time and I might even paint a picture of it).
As stated, the dream I had, happened during the time of the witching hour, cause I got up from it at about 4. I’m not being paranoid, but a lot of spiritual-related incidents have happened to me during that particular time-frame (3 to 4). Quite a few of you have heard of my encounters with spirits last year during the extended Chinese ghost months, when I was in the condominium hostel penthouse. 3 separate incidents all happened during the time constraints of 3 to 4 a.m. I’m actually intrigued by the whole idea and subject matter… Just a thought and random writing.
♥Cheryll
P/s: Just so you know, i'll try to update my blog after this as soon as possible so as to not let it go to damnation.
It’s past 4 in the morning… I’ve just pulled the tiny thread switch of my bed lamp to have light illuminate the part of my room, where I’m sitting up in bed, ensuring myself that I am fully awake. Flinching from the blinding light, I groan and then plop my head back down in bed, my hand reaching up for my forehead to give it a light rub. After a few minutes, I throw the covers off me and put on some clothes as I head to the desk where my laptop lays open.
I’ve just had a bad dream. I’m hardly shaken from nightmares as some of you may know. In fact, I enjoy sleeping through most of them and being able to jot them down, analyze and have myself connect with it… I read your thoughts. You must be thinking: “If you enjoy it that much it shouldn’t be called a nightmare.”
Or should it? I’m quite sure what I've dreamt in the past were indeed nightmares since they fit one or more of the definitions below.
Nightmare
n.
1. A dream arousing feelings of intense fear, horror, and
distress.
2. An event or experience that is intensely distressing.
3. A
demon or spirit once thought to plague sleeping people.
19th November 2007
Time: Between 1 to 4 a.m.
–mostly likely during the witching/ devil’s hour, which is from 3 to 4 in the morning
(Woke up at approximately 4 o’clock)
Feeling: Disturbed, feel of anxiety and a rush of adrenaline
I am walking downwards on a road which is located on some sort of hill. I presume that I’ve just got done with my classes at a university of some sort… Dusk has just set in as a chilling wind billows pass, shaking the leaves of the rather large trees that line the road as I journey down the path all by my lonesome while the leaves gently rain down. As I was entering a busier part of the city, I hear some shouting coming from a man exiting a shop to the right of me. The man wore a scowl on his face, dressed in a simple suit, carrying an infant in his arms. Upon looking up as he walked past, his weird features were emphasized by the glasses he wore. His eyes were shifty and grey blue, his lips were pursed with anger as he continued to ramble on, at the child. He placed the baby into some sort of back seat that resembled a pouch which was mounted behind a grey horse, he then hopped on as the baby wailed out loud. “Shut up.” He ordered, but the child did not. Instinctively, he reached behind and held the child up, shaking it in a violent sort of manner, hitting the child with loud thumps on its head. That triggered a few of us to shout and approach him, beckoning him to stop.
“You don’t understand!” His bloodshot eyes were buldging behind his thick glasses as he shouted defensively. Without any warning, he placed one hand on the infant’s head and the other around its neck, giving it a sharp twist in one violent motion… A loud ‘CRACK’ was heard followed by my scream. Yet, the child was miraculously… very much alive. Gun shots echoed throughout the city as the odd man fell to the ground lying in his own pool of blood while the infant was given medical attention.
~~~~~~
I stood trembling next to a priest or a holy man of some sort as the candles flickered hauntingly in the dungeons as sounds of water droplets could be heard upon coming into contact with the ground, echoing. Loud breathing and pants came from the man that laid before us, strapped into place by thick, hardy ropes. “Hold on tight to both his hands.”
I did what I was told by the priest, gripping hard, clasping both his hands together in mine as I muttered the ‘Our Father’ beneath my breath. The man that lied on the concrete platform laughed hysterically, “You have got to be joking.” His dark shoulder-length hair was wild and wavy, lined with sweat as his eyes rolled around madly. His clothes from top to toe were covered both with fresh and coagulated blood. “Do you have any idea who I am?” He questioned me while giggling in a sick manner. I said nothing as I shivered from the bad aura he radiated.
“You’re doing well. Ignore him and continue to hold on tight.” The priest words though comforting they might have been, didn’t preserve the feeling for long as the man burst out laughing maniacally, “Forgot something?” He stuck both hands in the air. “Oh, you poor thing.” I didn’t feel him come undone from my grip as far as my effort was concerned… I felt weak and sick as fear trickled down my spine, poisoning my courage as I broke down and cried. I felt the dust of the underground tunnel choke me as I lost sight of things… What I last heard was a loud yell and my world ended in darkness.
***
The man with wild hair strode across the room in the same blood splattered outfit he had on… He marched towards a dark corner and tugged something heavy across the room. A body cocooned up in bloody bandages was what he was lugging. It resembled a mummy, only with hair strewn at the top of its head. Muffles and familiar loud wails were coming from it. A hole could be seen at the side of its abdomen… a deep wound. It cried mournfully and let out a high pitch shriek as it struggled, trying to get free, but it was all in… vain.
That person may very well be… me.
So that’s the bad dream I had… or at least what I remembered of it. The infant at the beginning and the man at the end from my interpretation is quite conclusively ‘The Anti-Christ’. What I found strange throughout the dream though was my age. My age did not vary from the time the Anti-Christ was an infant to the time where I was by the priest, helping with the procession. I would presume that it was either through possessions that the Anti-Christ went about or that I was just mistaken to have been un-tampered by age. Needless to say, the dream felt very real and I’ve only had one other incident where I’ve been subjected to the Anti-Christ matter (other than movies of course), which is late last year while I was in mass during the sermon of a priest… I had a vision (I’ll write about it some other time and I might even paint a picture of it).
As stated, the dream I had, happened during the time of the witching hour, cause I got up from it at about 4. I’m not being paranoid, but a lot of spiritual-related incidents have happened to me during that particular time-frame (3 to 4). Quite a few of you have heard of my encounters with spirits last year during the extended Chinese ghost months, when I was in the condominium hostel penthouse. 3 separate incidents all happened during the time constraints of 3 to 4 a.m. I’m actually intrigued by the whole idea and subject matter… Just a thought and random writing.
♥Cheryll
P/s: Just so you know, i'll try to update my blog after this as soon as possible so as to not let it go to damnation.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Updates
*drags herself to the desk and gathers an ounce of energy to type*
Well, Looky here... I haven't actually completely abandoned this blog, unlike my many others. Goodness gracious, it's apain-in-the-ass pleasure to type my little rambles and rants, once again. *snickers*
Gawd... I've been downing caffeine by the gallon ever since i woke up (Sorry, my precious bladder). Shit, this is tiring. I never used to be so diligent in preparing for classes beforehand. Evolution at play, dearies. Evolution at play. *snorts*
So i'm sitting at my desk, my dear surbodinates (Oh yes you are since you're reading my blog. I dub thee slave!), without any intention in taking advantage or to reap any benefits off you (not much anyway). I come before you, pushing aside my Political Ideologies, Calculas andthick assed Biology book, just to say... "Fuck, i'm sunburnt, exhausted and bored." (What were you thinking? I would never humble myself, not in this abyss at least. Nyehahaha!)
I admit that i'm never going far in life... unless, of course, i pillage, plunder, rifle and loot *smirks devilishly* (Only joking, ma.)
I need to get myself a life seriously. Okay, so i do have a few friends here in university, mostly in English class since the class isn't that big and there's loads of interaction going on. Those that i usually talk to in English class would include Daniel Pak a.k.a. Korean-math-whiz-joker, Joe the Sit-at-the-back-german-learning-history-major-dude and Jeremy the Walmart-lover whom owns 5 guns, goes dove-shooting (So much for the peace symbol) and whom will be serving in the army. Don't exactly know many people from the other classes cause it's all conducted in huge lecture theatres. Oh yeah... I also met up with Brian whom is a net-pal of mine. Went out shopping and to watch Rush Hour 3 with him on the first day (I'm a Chris Tucker and Jackie Chan fan, but Rush Hour 3 sucks balls. Seriously. The only good part of it was the Out-takes.)
Anyway, i went to explore the Secret Garden on campus yesterday to do some writing for my assignment(given by Cameron, my english teacher) on profiling a place. Not many people know about the Telepathy Garden a.k.a. Secret Garden since it's well-hidden through some sort of basement tunnel (except the staff that work in the buildings surrounding it). Anyway i went there in the morning and it was therapeutic. Beautiful simplicity yet the buildings surrounding it had some victorian architecture- a vintage feel going on about it. So like i began writing about the place from a critical angle, that is to describe in a way that usually you wouldn't really notice (Smell, little details...etc). There's a fireplace extended out from the exterior of a building. There wasn't any wood in it, but there was a cobweb and a twig with a leaf on it (I highly doubt that the spider has turned herbivor). Then there was a huge vase that towered two heads above me, painted in dark china blue dedicated in memory of the first dean of one of the schools. Also directly opposite the fireplace on the other end were three stone benches that curved inwardly to form a circular communion place. Each bench had three legs and what i found interesting was that the legs were statues of sphinxes (from classical mythology). I came to the conclusion that, the artist whom did it or the person whom purchased these benches could be a mysterious, inscrutable person or thing, esp. one given to enigmatic questions or answers (That, or he has a huge fetish for monsters :/) since that's one of the definitions of what a sphinx could mean. I don't know, the layout of the garden seemed to hold many spiritual elements in it. There's also a sign that says:
Point of Interest
Telepathy Garden
Stand very still and close your eyes. Focus on the person with whom
you would like to communicate. Clear your mind and channel your
energy towards the person. Say the person’s name silently and wait
for a reply. You may have to repeat the name several times before
connecting.
When you hear a response, proceed with the communication,
continuing to channel energy. Connection can last several
minutes depending on skill and experience.
If you wish to communicate a subliminal message, press your
index finger on your temples and channel a message. Repeat
until evidence suggests the message has been received.
Okay... I admit that i was tempted to try it out, but really, i was focusing on finishing a draft for my assignment and getting the hell out of the sun, since the skin on my arms were already shedding as if i were a 100 year old lizard from southern mexico, due to the extensive hours i've been in the sun. Other than that, i was at peace with the place. Seriously. It's a good place to be alone (Get your mind out of the gutter!) and if what you seek is some peace and quiet (Don't let me repeat myself). I find the place intriguing and the feeling it gives you is really enigmatic. I'm seriously thinking of going there more often to write more songs or stories while i lie on the lawn. It's been long since i've worked on my literary works, ever since i left the highschool editorial board for the newsletter and college student body (No, i'm not homesick, people. Just nostalgic).
Hmm... On another note, i've become aware of how my spoken english is beginning to suck. It's deteriorating. I think it's because i spent more time typing (chatting) then actually opening my mouth to speak :/ I feel myself stuttering at times and even having a lost for words, but when it comes to typing, it just flows on and on. I can't think while talking, but i can think while typing. God, damn it! I think i might need to get an orange hoodie and start doing muffles like kenny :/ Plus, most of the people i know are american (D'uh), so i'm not very use to getting into their slang. I mean i understand them aye-okay, but when it comes to me using it, it's like it's more british than american. Why do Education systems have to differ so much? Damn pronunciation. And i notice that the word "can't" is prounced 'kent' in America, where as for british/queen's english it's pronounced "cu*t"... *snorts* Gotta love the Queen. Meh... I think i feel inferior when it comes to talking now. Who would have guessed? The usually "well-versed", "charismatic" (Ahem), imitative, "witty"(i know, self praise is international disgrace, but i'm just quoting you guys whom ever so graciously crowned me those qualities... Noticed the quotation marks? XD) kid whom is gifted in crapping has turned into a low self-esteem, stuttering dumb loner. Meh, i'll work on that. And it only seems that it happens around only certain people, which is strange, cause i really don't know the reason for it. Lol.
ANYWAY, this blog isn't meant for my sad life, but the life in which i need not worry about. The Darkside. This world will provide me with comfort, a temporarily escape from sanity and everyday trials and afflictions. Of course, this doesn't mean i can't complain about how sickening the world is and how all worthless vermin of the world should die a painful death, forever and ever and ever! MwahahahahahahahahaHA-HA-H... *coughs vigorously* Oh bugger!
My right hand can't stop shaking for some reason. It's going through some weird spasm thingy thing. I think it's from all the expresso O.o Oh well... It looks kinda cool actually ;P Dum dee dum... *marches back and forth* I'm so bored and there ain't no rum in that bottle of mine... Yo ho yo ho, a pirate's life for me! Anyway i shall embrace my books and have a whale-ing good time.
Signing off!
Well, Looky here... I haven't actually completely abandoned this blog, unlike my many others. Goodness gracious, it's a
Gawd... I've been downing caffeine by the gallon ever since i woke up (Sorry, my precious bladder). Shit, this is tiring. I never used to be so diligent in preparing for classes beforehand. Evolution at play, dearies. Evolution at play. *snorts*
So i'm sitting at my desk, my dear surbodinates (Oh yes you are since you're reading my blog. I dub thee slave!), without any intention in taking advantage or to reap any benefits off you (not much anyway). I come before you, pushing aside my Political Ideologies, Calculas and
I admit that i'm never going far in life... unless, of course, i pillage, plunder, rifle and loot *smirks devilishly* (Only joking, ma.)
I need to get myself a life seriously. Okay, so i do have a few friends here in university, mostly in English class since the class isn't that big and there's loads of interaction going on. Those that i usually talk to in English class would include Daniel Pak a.k.a. Korean-math-whiz-joker, Joe the Sit-at-the-back-german-learning-history-major-dude and Jeremy the Walmart-lover whom owns 5 guns, goes dove-shooting (So much for the peace symbol) and whom will be serving in the army. Don't exactly know many people from the other classes cause it's all conducted in huge lecture theatres. Oh yeah... I also met up with Brian whom is a net-pal of mine. Went out shopping and to watch Rush Hour 3 with him on the first day (I'm a Chris Tucker and Jackie Chan fan, but Rush Hour 3 sucks balls. Seriously. The only good part of it was the Out-takes.)
Anyway, i went to explore the Secret Garden on campus yesterday to do some writing for my assignment(given by Cameron, my english teacher) on profiling a place. Not many people know about the Telepathy Garden a.k.a. Secret Garden since it's well-hidden through some sort of basement tunnel (except the staff that work in the buildings surrounding it). Anyway i went there in the morning and it was therapeutic. Beautiful simplicity yet the buildings surrounding it had some victorian architecture- a vintage feel going on about it. So like i began writing about the place from a critical angle, that is to describe in a way that usually you wouldn't really notice (Smell, little details...etc). There's a fireplace extended out from the exterior of a building. There wasn't any wood in it, but there was a cobweb and a twig with a leaf on it (I highly doubt that the spider has turned herbivor). Then there was a huge vase that towered two heads above me, painted in dark china blue dedicated in memory of the first dean of one of the schools. Also directly opposite the fireplace on the other end were three stone benches that curved inwardly to form a circular communion place. Each bench had three legs and what i found interesting was that the legs were statues of sphinxes (from classical mythology). I came to the conclusion that, the artist whom did it or the person whom purchased these benches could be a mysterious, inscrutable person or thing, esp. one given to enigmatic questions or answers (That, or he has a huge fetish for monsters :/) since that's one of the definitions of what a sphinx could mean. I don't know, the layout of the garden seemed to hold many spiritual elements in it. There's also a sign that says:
Point of Interest
Telepathy Garden
Stand very still and close your eyes. Focus on the person with whom
you would like to communicate. Clear your mind and channel your
energy towards the person. Say the person’s name silently and wait
for a reply. You may have to repeat the name several times before
connecting.
When you hear a response, proceed with the communication,
continuing to channel energy. Connection can last several
minutes depending on skill and experience.
If you wish to communicate a subliminal message, press your
index finger on your temples and channel a message. Repeat
until evidence suggests the message has been received.
Okay... I admit that i was tempted to try it out, but really, i was focusing on finishing a draft for my assignment and getting the hell out of the sun, since the skin on my arms were already shedding as if i were a 100 year old lizard from southern mexico, due to the extensive hours i've been in the sun. Other than that, i was at peace with the place. Seriously. It's a good place to be alone (Get your mind out of the gutter!) and if what you seek is some peace and quiet (Don't let me repeat myself). I find the place intriguing and the feeling it gives you is really enigmatic. I'm seriously thinking of going there more often to write more songs or stories while i lie on the lawn. It's been long since i've worked on my literary works, ever since i left the highschool editorial board for the newsletter and college student body (No, i'm not homesick, people. Just nostalgic).
Hmm... On another note, i've become aware of how my spoken english is beginning to suck. It's deteriorating. I think it's because i spent more time typing (chatting) then actually opening my mouth to speak :/ I feel myself stuttering at times and even having a lost for words, but when it comes to typing, it just flows on and on. I can't think while talking, but i can think while typing. God, damn it! I think i might need to get an orange hoodie and start doing muffles like kenny :/ Plus, most of the people i know are american (D'uh), so i'm not very use to getting into their slang. I mean i understand them aye-okay, but when it comes to me using it, it's like it's more british than american. Why do Education systems have to differ so much? Damn pronunciation. And i notice that the word "can't" is prounced 'kent' in America, where as for british/queen's english it's pronounced "cu*t"... *snorts* Gotta love the Queen. Meh... I think i feel inferior when it comes to talking now. Who would have guessed? The usually "well-versed", "charismatic" (Ahem), imitative, "witty"(i know, self praise is international disgrace, but i'm just quoting you guys whom ever so graciously crowned me those qualities... Noticed the quotation marks? XD) kid whom is gifted in crapping has turned into a low self-esteem, stuttering dumb loner. Meh, i'll work on that. And it only seems that it happens around only certain people, which is strange, cause i really don't know the reason for it. Lol.
ANYWAY, this blog isn't meant for my sad life, but the life in which i need not worry about. The Darkside. This world will provide me with comfort, a temporarily escape from sanity and everyday trials and afflictions. Of course, this doesn't mean i can't complain about how sickening the world is and how all worthless vermin of the world should die a painful death, forever and ever and ever! MwahahahahahahahahaHA-HA-H... *coughs vigorously* Oh bugger!
My right hand can't stop shaking for some reason. It's going through some weird spasm thingy thing. I think it's from all the expresso O.o Oh well... It looks kinda cool actually ;P Dum dee dum... *marches back and forth* I'm so bored and there ain't no rum in that bottle of mine... Yo ho yo ho, a pirate's life for me! Anyway i shall embrace my books and have a whale-ing good time.
Signing off!
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