Christmas Horror

Hope season approaches as we pack shopping centers in search of the coolest gifts in town between 10 and 15 bucks for the exchange come 25th. Mall music blare songs by artists of all kinds, setting us in the mood for the last holiday of the year. Then there was one, very very disturbing song. Almost horrific. 

As the song plays I couldn't help but wonder the visuals going through the writers head when he/she wrote it, whoever that may be. 


I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus
Underneath the mistletoe last night 

She didn't see me creep
Down the stairs to have a peep 

She thought that I was tucked up in my bedroom fast asleep 
Then I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus 

Underneath his beard so snowy white
Oh, what a laugh it would have been 

If Daddy had only seen
Mommy kissing Santa Claus last night 


Imagine your kids coming up to you, and with pride in their faces, belches this song out at the top of their lungs. Imagine if they actually understood the meaning of the song, that Mommy was a whoring bitch and Santa a two-timing bastard. 


If Daddy had seen Mommy kissing Santa Claus, they'd file for custody over your damned soul the very next day. 


Merry Christmas everyone

I have a Disease

i have a disease. i've been having it for as long as i can remember. a disease. i can feel it in me. sometimes strong sometimes weak. it reacts to my emotions. it reacts to my movements. it's uncontrollable. it grows. it feeds. it takes over. the disease takes over.

it craves for things. it craves for easy. it craves for all things easy. it craves for life and death and winning and losing and being at the highest and falling to the lowest. it is a disease. it eats me consumes me devours me. i fight it but i lose. every time i fight it i lose. i am weak. weaker than the disease. weaker than myself. weaker than my inheritance. i give up. but i still fight it. every time it takes over i fight it. i eat it back. i consume it back. i devour it back. i lose.

it controls me. it makes me say and think and do as it sees amusing. it feeds on my weakness. it feeds on the people around me. it is big. i am afraid of it. i avoid it whenever possible. i stop going to places that will feed it. i stop seeing people that will feed it. i stop saying things and doing things and thinking things that will feed it. i can't avoid everything. i lose to the disease.

it feeds on many things. it feeds on pride and glory and honor and money and ego and anger and help and love and hate and help and more help. it feeds on compassion and chances and more chances. it devours me. it consumes me. it takes over me. it controls.

i have a disease.

fucking disease.

i hate them all. i hate pride and glory and honor and money and anger and ego and help and love and help and more help. i hate compassion and chances and more chances. i hate them all everything that feeds the disease. it has nothing but it has everything to lose. it gives nothing but takes everything. it kills me. it kills itself. but it get stronger each time it kills me and itself. it eats itself and it grows. it grows and it grows. bigger and stronger. sometimes weakened by me but most of the time it wins.

the disease cannot take over. it cannot win. it cannot cannot cannot win. it's in me. i feel its strength. it can strangle ten men to death and it doesn't blink. it has no compassion but it takes all compassion. it has no love but it takes all love. it has no ego but it takes all ego. it craves ego. it needs ego.

its here in me. its here when i get angry. it feeds on rage and it generates tenfold of rage back into me. its here when i throw something. it feeds on strength and it generates tenfold of rage back into me. its here when i feel pain. it feeds on pain and it generates tenfold of rage back into me. it uses the rage to control and consume and devour me. it uses the rage to make me move and talk and do. like a marionette. like a fucking marionette.

it is selfish it is egoistic it is greedy it is evil evil evil. it does not sleep. ever. it waits for me to sleep and it feeds on me. my soul my joy my ambition and honor my dignity my bliss. everything. it takes all good and returns me all bad. it gives no attention yet seeks endless and boundless attention.

i need to kill it. i need to put it in a cell. i need to shut it up. i listen to music loud so it drowns it's voice in my head. i scream at it to keep it in its place. but it plays with my head. it makes me believe there's always good in the world. it makes me believe there are nice people and good people and honest people in the world. it makes me believe i can achieve the things i want in my life. and when i am hit by cold hard reality i fall. it feeds on my weakness. it thrives and grows and gets stronger.

people ask and i ignore. people talk and i ignore. people wonder and i ignore.

i ignore

i ignore

i fucking ignore.

i've been fighting. i fought and i fight. i will continue to fight. fight until its over. fight until its done. i will fight until the disease dies. the disease puts a beautiful picture in my head. flowers and birds and smiling people and friendly people and nice people. it wants me to fall. it wants to consume me again. i will take this picture. i will live by this picture. and i will fall. and i will stand up. again and again. again and again and again. i will stand up. and i will fall. and i will stand up. i will fucking fall again and again. and i will fucking stand up again and again and again.

i don't want help. i cannot get help. the disease knows. it will consume it and consume me. i don't want to be with anyone. i cannot be with anyone. the disease knows. it will consume them and consume me. it's dangerous. it's deadly. the disease kills and consumes. i hear stories and talks and speculations and whispers. i ignore them. i fucking ignore them all. i don't need the talk and the stories and the speculations. i don't need the people saying them and thinking them and hearing them. i will kill the disease myself. with a gun and a sword and an ax and a car and a sledge hammer. i will kill the disease.

it is not depression it is not a mood swing it is not an emotional breakdown it is not stress. i cannot take a break from it. i will not take a break from it. i shall not take a break from it. it consumes and it destroys and it devours and it does not take a break. it is evil it is the worst it is the deep darkness that is darker than fucking jet black. it is foul smelling and it is dangerous and it is deadly and it is fucking fucking fucking evil. it is cold ice cold it does not have a beating heart it uses mine.

stupid. i'm so stupid. all these years and i can't control the disease. all these years and i've only managed to make it grow in me. i cannot think. when i think i breakdown. when i think i fall. when i think i stop to move. i cannot think. i can only believe in the picture and go toward it. that's all i can do. i cannot think. i cannot stop to think. i cannot fucking ever stop to think. stupid. weak. pathetic. useless. weak. fucking weak. its true. someone used all those words on me when i was younger. used them a lot. its true. stupid. weak. pathetic. useless. weak. fucking weak.

do not judge. do not put words. do not speak. do not ask. do not judge. there's a disease in me and do not ask and do not judge. if you have to talk and judge and talk do not let me hear of it. i need to kill this disease this strong and deadly darker than jet black disease alone.

I remember

We're all here. Not all, but many whom I've forgotten to keep in contact with all these years. I remember them all. The good, the bad and the ugly. The uncanny, the simple, the sure and the stressed. The unworldly, the untidy, the unknown. All of them. I remember basketball Fridays. I remember Mc Donald's Fridays. I remember FAC Fridays. I remember Metrojaya Fridays. I remember Cathy's Toys Fridays. All of which are no longer in existence. I remember.

Some are business people, some are sales people. Some are travelers, some are comfortable. Some are risky, some are steady and sure. But all are friends. I look around me. All of them know me. All of them know my past. All of them know what I've become since. I know them. I know where they're from. I know where they've gone from there. I know them. I know them. They're friends. No. They're family. Family lost in time. Time it took for me to realize they're still here. Time it took for me to remember how much they meant to me. They're family.

I smoke and one of them smoke too. He told me Today we're gathered here to see one of our wedding. Next thing will be one of our child's baptism. Then it might be one of our death. Death. The course of life that is sure. The moment you realize the most precious thing you cannot let go of is not your bank account. It will be your memories. Memories you wish could be stored in a hard drive somewhere forever. Memories you wish someone would see and cherish. I remember smoking in stair ways. I remember playing KOF. I remember CS. I remember Snooker. I remember. I remember clubs and discos. I remember drinking and smoking up. I remember the days I cannot remember.

One of us got hit by a car one day. It was SPM month. A call came, and a prankster told me. Fuck off I said. No, really he said. Fuck off, I need to study I said. My friend woke up in the ward, demanding a Marlboro. His last wishes, even if he was going to die that day, was Marlboro. The hallway outside the ward was full. School uniforms. Smoking. In the hospital, smoking. His mom entered. School uniforms. No smoking. Dead cigarette butts crushed beneath white shoes. All of them. No smoking. Auntie we called.

If there was one wish. One prize. One thing I could do to my past. I want to relive it. I want everyone of us to relive it. Nothing to change. Just the way it was. Just the way it should be. No changes. I remember them all. My most precious belongings. More than my bank account. My memories of my past. Who I was. Where I came from. What I've done. The life I've lived.

I remember.

I remember.

I remember.

I remember.

Free Writing: I'm In My Car

I'm in my car. Waiting for friends to arrive so we can go for lunch. music playing. Boring. I've heard every single one of the 4 GB stash here over a million times. I'm bored. The car is running. I'm contributing to global warming.

The highway is nice to stare at. I don't know, but just nice. The flow, no congestion. Calming. Nice.

They're not here yet. I should have brought that book along so it could kill my boredom. The book. Where was I? Oh yes. Family Class. I understand why he'd be pissed off seeing his parents. he can't even look himself in the eyes, much less have his parents do same. Pale green.

Still not here. I wanna smoke, but her mom is here. She might think. She might talk. Her brother's back too, I think. Where's the other guy? Where's the black car? We're supposed to go for lunch. But I've been waiting and waiting and waiting. Nobody is here. I got work at home. send fax, wash car, redo letter. Wash car. The sky is getting dark. No. I must wash it. It's filthy. White. Smart. Get a white car, it looks nice. Smart.

I'm contributing to global warming. Car still running. Broken by The Frey. Heard it a million times. He's here! Finally we can go for lunch. Finally! I got many things to do. Send fax, wash car, redo letter. What shall we eat today?

Readings: Why Do Men Have Nipples? by Leynar and Goldberg MD

We don't like to read. Reading this post is itself a torture, which is the only reason why I always have to put totally unrelated pictures on every one of my posts. No, this picture makes sense for once. Its the cover of a cool book I just read, along with some decoratives I managed to salvage from my boring room.

I'm personally a very choosy reader. If ever I could figure out the ending before the book actually ends, I'd not finish it. If the way the author writes is not exciting enough, I'd not read it at all. So being able to actually finish a book is almost as rare as a meteor crashing onto Earth.

Anyway, this book is not a novel. Its actually exciting to read. Its one of those Q&A on human anatomy, hence Why Do Men Have Nipples? Inside include the most miraculous questions anyone would ever ask their doctors, andt would also really want to know. Like, Is There Really A G-Spot? and Can You Lose Your Virginity To Tampons? Don't worry there're enough questions in there for men too.

Authors Mark Leyner and Billy Goldberg did well to make this medical-related book interesting, and I'm sure you probably won't mind an extra light reading sitting next to your porcelain throne. Just don't sit too long, or you'll end up with hemorrhoid.

If this book is a CD, it'll come with "Parental Advisory, Explicit Everything" and if in movies would be rated, oh, about PG 18 or so. Be warned, mothers.