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Showing posts from 2013

Busan: Urban Jungle (Christmas Melancholy)

Smiles wherever, smiles are free. Jungle life for the Christmas tree. Blue moon, blue sod, blue wind; fighting through the flesh, diminishing strength, and solidifying procrastination. Nampo-dong, how I miss thee. A cup of cake, a Red Velvet, and an ever-friendly face. Is it true? You are my saviour, my light, when all else faded. Why. Why you. Why did it have to be you? How close was I to sin when the tape ran smooth on my prickly and battered fingers? Weeks and weeks I laboured, and weeks I endured the wrath of longing. The moth torched her wings when I ignited it ad hoc. It was not my intention. It was all for the subject of love.  And now it's over. The lights have come. We run away from things which we quickly realise are nothing but herrings. Christmas in Nampo-dong is for love and healing; but my heart is reeling, and my tears are killing. It's over now. Or is it? Is it the love that I feel which is inextinguishable? Mioseon. Charm. Tough as nails; colla

Busan: International Party

It gets easier. But not as easy and as perfect as the fantasy shapes itself to be. Hardly anything that comes out of the horse's mouth turns into an orgasmic shape of affection and trust but instead of travesty and more torture. To top it all off, I clamour for the next high, or low, depending on one's point of view. It's mental exhaustion. I don't think January is a time where goodbyes will become a forlorn thing. Indecisiveness, which has quite intermittently become a common denominator of my minute existence, serves as the main catalyst for the recipe of disaster that is about to be concocted. And every single person I meet over the course of these three months will become an accessory to this vile foolishness. I went to Lzone again to pass my time. Having no cash with me is a primary reason to go about it. It was well worth it. I learned a couple of pointers on how to go about the remaining days of my stay here. Who knows where that takes me? Nothing makes

The Happiest Me

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  The Happiest Me 

Busan: Troddling in Hadan

2:46 AM here. What am I doing? I have no fucking clue. What's my plan? I have no fucking clue. What am I waiting for? A miracle, that's what I'm waiting for. A goddamn miracle.   There is no light at the end of the tunnel for me in this city, and yet I clamour every single day for two months now. What it is that I am searching for I always tell Rina that it's destiny that I'm waiting for, bursting from the tip of my tongue and into my heart, to calm the nerves and to waver my suffering from this godawful situation. Like Johnny in Naked , I gallivant to allow the opportunity of life to pass me by, to give meaning to the bits and pieces of nothingness that surround not just me but everyone else around me. It's funny, sometimes I want to lean to God for guidance, but what can that do the reality of the situation. If it was meant to be, it's going to happen either way.   Will I ever hear from Mioseon again? I was watching old videos of us in Youtube. A

Busan: Nearing Christmas, Missing Mioseon More and More

Hi there.   It's been a weird week for me over here in Busan. Literally nothing happened. No memories made whatsoever. I spent it all thinking about heartbreaks and miseries hiding in a hole within a stall in Seomyeon. Penniless and free, there is nothing productive about me at all. I'm dreaming of winning it all, winning the world over, winning Mioseon back. Winning mostly the impossible, I guess.   Christmas is coming soon. How can an alien fool like me spend it in the warm company of this city? The dry cold has nothing to offer but regrets, mulling and weeping over past mistakes. 2013 has been the worst year so far in my life. Love makes everything so complicated and painful. Tomorrow comes a new weekend and nothing awaits me but envy. Why should I be envious of other people's joy? Why is everyone seemingly so gleeful despite the cruel hams of this glorious local society? I met people on Monday that may matter, but not in the long run. My trousers haven't ch

Busan: Gussie Fink-Nottle

Sabrina and I are finding a way to go to Seoul with minimal costs for just a short amount of time. A Christmas visit, 'tis all. Bored out of our wits, I would say. There are plenty of things in Busan but nothing that concerns us now. I have no clue what to do and even as we speak I find myself stuck inside a PC bang here in Seomyeon for almost 36 hours now straight. I need to find a way to return to my Hobbiton soon. Desolation of Smaug is coming to theatres soon. It was almost yesterday when me and Mioseon watched the first film at Odeon in Leicester Square. It was a lovely evening. Lately I've been binging on Jeeves and Wooster to pass my time. Cheerio.

Busan: Moving on is never about moving on

Staying in Seomyeon is not as merry as it should. It only feeds my sadness more. I'm always thinking about what Mioseon is doing at the moment, or if she is still scared of me for some reason. But she apparently moved on, seems like. There is no indication she hasn't. And if for some fault it is only in my part that I cannot find a wonderful future then this indeed is a fucked up life. I came to Seomyeon in part of Sabrina's charm and to cool off from that one weird incident.  Nothing happens here. But last night I've been told by the trendy and fashionable citizens of Busan that I am also fashionable and trendy in a more sincere manner than I've ever had, albeit showerless and stink-prone.

Busan-saram

After the incident last night with Mioseon and her father and all, I woke up feeling wheezy and tired and I just had to let it all pass for some time. A wee bit of time off. Sabrina and Oliver and me planned to go to church. Spoiler: We didn't go. Oliver did. Sabrina and I found ourselves stranded in Nampo-dong, finally. After a long, long time. It was nice to show her around Nampo-dong, Rina and I. Felt a bit local-ish for a few minutes. A true Nampo-saram, felt like. Of course I just had to show her BIFF Square. The busy, bustling street food scene and the market vibes of Busan during Sunday overwhelmed us both. We did quite a lot. We started with coffee and a cupcake in dear, old Red Velvet. Nice to see familiar faces roaming about. Kinder ones now, unlike the passively hostile ones in Sinpyeong.  We walked quite a lot going from here to there. I kept on searching for the banana-que that was supposed to be near Bupyeong but I could not, for the life of me, find it. We s

Busan: Mioseon hates me

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Shinsegae  I saw her today at half past five. She was beautiful as always, wore the classiest getup I've ever seen her sport, and she was walking towards the tube station heading towards somewhere. This was my opportunity to try to speak to her for probably the last time, but when she caught a glimpse of me walking towards her, she just dashed madly towards the first taxi she saw.  There is no end to this pain, I reckon. She's never interested in wanting to explain why it has come to this.  By the time she was about to come home at around eleven at night, she probably asked her father to fetch her and he eventually caught on me, like I was some kind of a criminal. I walked away not wanting any commotion and they met and went home soundly.  Why can't these people just understand my misery? I need answers to move on. I need help the only way I know how.  She's probably moved on farther than I have ever been. Safe in the arms of someone else's

Busan: Muse

Back to where I landed. There's been changes. Nothing changes. She's there, not there. I don't know. Sometimes I can feel her through the window and that feeling is defenestrated by the desire to do something else less boring. She haunts me, all the time, even while I slumber. When I do remember her, a cocktail of rage and love concocts itself to provide me a dose of sadness. December, promises.

Busan: Lack of priority

Tell me what I should do. I don't want to wake up every single time without a thing to do and nowhere to go. My thoughts wander and it seems there is no more turning back. I'm a horrible person. There is no one more cowardly than I am. Your plan wouldn't work. Then tell me what I should do. I don't want to be speaking to this machine rather than someone else. This trip was supposed to be a mission, not a lazy party. Sometimes luck inspires a good person to turn bad. It is until someone suffers that we find ourselves crying over spilled shit. How long have I been staying here in Seomyeon? How long has it been since then? Long enough. I need to restart my quest, but it's very cold outside and my money is running out quickly. No one will help you except Austria. I don't know how to repay Austria, for the kindness and support. It's the end of the line. Take a chillstep and rest for now, young gun. Let's fight a good fight when you wake up.

Busan: Moonlight Stroll

"The contingency is a remote one, sir." In any circumstances, I should get my mission in action. The weather and conditions denounce my concentration. Seomyeon is a distraction; so to are my desires; failure methods and weather underpinnings. There she is; somewhere only she knows. I would love to catch forty winks and four proper. Tickle my ankles and eavesdrop over the mobile phone. Stick to it, 니또참. Put your mind into it.

Busan: Smitten

Cannot escape vendetta. Back to square one. There's no news of anything at all and I'm wasting so much time and effort over nothing. Frustrations are bound to develop and cold weather never aids anyone in this dire quest, terrible anguish and futility nonewithstanding. The people are somewhere far beyond the outskirts of Busan wanting to take part of an orgy of fulfilment and money is the great denominator. Everyone in this country revolves around consumerism and advertisement. Look beyond left and you're back again in center. Just like me. Left turn towards the dark side. Revolve and it's still always dark beyond the joy and smiles of companionship.

Busan: Would rather be alone than lonely in the company of others

Backpacking is an excuse to withstand the desire of human interaction and avoid overbearing apathy. Sometimes it feels very sad to realise that others are lonelier than thou without even having to ask. It's just a spontaneous flame kindling itself from within the inner spirit of this and that. Old souls wandering in search for a bite, hiding beneath a veil of independence and spontaneity, hopping from coast to coast and learning from the fetishistic desires of life's masochistic tendencies, laughing and drinking on their way to more shallow and mindless experiences to fill the gaps missing.   Whatever it is I'm searching for, it can only be answered with love. Yes or no. Yes and no.

Busan: First Month

Should have done this sooner. There are very little details left to recall by now. So many words to say, so little recollection. She's gone, and now my watch has began. Two more months or vagrancy; barely living, barely breathing.   There is fun in even the smallest things, I found, but even then cannot fill the hole left behind by the loss of my first true love. Malice has overcome me; the everlasting demand for justice; equal measures. Now I surround myself with new people, new experiences, but still feeling like a sushi on a stick. How do I begin to rekindle my passion now? Where do I find that which is my destiny and that thing that I truly came here for? Mioseon is gone. She disappeared. Into an abyss of neverending hide-and-seek. I do not want to seem like a creep; my dignity suffers tenfold everytime the thought frolicks by.   It is the end of me. What if time with Mioseon Park was the happiest day of my life and all I look forward to now is sickness and purgatory?

Busan

Two more days and I'll be bikepacking in Busan. Hopefully I can find Mioseon somehow. It would be a tragic waste were it not so. Three months is a long time. Something else is bound to show up. But I'm fucking nervous.

Re-cycle

Let's do this now.

The fight to leave this country and go to South Korea

My life will certainly not be reassured of any penance after starting this Korean odyssey, but it will certainly jumpstart it into a different setting and a new beginning. It's been taking so long to fix this and I fear that my vendetta will be sorely disappointed with the results. Protip: It's going to be a train wreck.  I haven't told Mioseon yet and I don't intend to anytime soon. My plan was to come guns blazing and see things for myself in unadulterated sight. This is to feed my paranoia, the thing that keeps me alone in a dark room as a self-proclaimed hikikomori . A couple of days before the hour of reckoning, and I feel a strange sensation that everything that I've ever worked for will self-destruct right before my eyes. I'm so fucking stoked that I ate a bagful of my own fingernails in excitement. Money. It all falls down to money. Once my visa arrives, I head down immediately to the Korean embassy and wait for confirmation. Then from London I

Fire and Ice

Fire had its beliefs that one day a progenitor of man will discover it and change the whole perspective of the world. Fire has never changed, it has always been the same. But the fire in the heart of man has.  This infinite fire is invisible, fighting to gather the inconspicuous desire to live free, and it holds the key to the purpose of man's existence. People began referring to this anomaly as the 'god' which creates the idea of our basic understanding. All people are made of this frozen flame, and all people are made up of water more than a half. Despite this paradox, we have come to terms that 'god' works in mysterious ways. And in this form all things, good and bad, come and go. 

Cardiff in Motion: Friday

Day started early, this and that. Lingered in the library for an hour or so reading a Tron graphic novel. Returned the book I borrowed earlier on without even reading. Bored out of my wits, I went inside Westfield to shop around. Grabbed a juice drink and left. Tube burned like hell and my rucksack was full of heavy shit. Had another hour or so waiting for the small guy, smoking, thinking, Mioseon. Fight the good fight, we did. Megabus, left at two, arrived at seven, delayed due to traffic. Still fought, Mioseon and I, along the way. Skies were dark and wet and drizzly. Walked towards the first hostel we could, got denied upon booking. Small guy fool did not carry any legal identification with him. We had to move out as the weather worsened. Had to find shelter and fast. Walked towards the centre leading us to a hostel called The Bunkhouse. Such a candid display of originality. We checked in for the night. Popped a Glock to our groove for that night. Went to a Wetherspoon's pu

Day 21: Manipulation, Isolation, Apologies

The snake slithered down my neck, teeth clashing, bones shaking, tiptoes ringing the hallways in the dark. The lack of sleep and rest weakened my senses waiting for the moment that she'd wake up and rise to the call -- whatever. My libido was all that mattered to me, the snake said, when it crawled down to my heart. Hisssssssssssssss , it did, and hissssssssssssssssss , it beckoned. My heart tasted bittersweet with the essence of its venom rising through my neurosensory networks. Death awaits you , it whispered. No escape . I looked towards my side. My muscles aren't half as bad as they think it is. Three bottles of urine greeted my sight. I turn away in disgust. I rise again to watch my whispers coming. Whispers of she, whispers of a familiar time I long to return. It's over , the snake whispered again. Is this like a breakup? I voiced to the whispers. The snake replied, even when not spoken to. Do you wish it was? No, no, no, not at all , that's what

The Drama of Truth

The bed was all unkempt when Christian woke up. He'd have been staying naked in bed for an entire week after she left him, trying to struggle going back to reality and basic everyday life. His eyes were all blackened and bagged by severe lack of sleep. Four filled one-litre bottles sit in a table next to the bed, some used plates and scattered kitchen utensils here and there, and cigarette butts making an unsightly view. The laptop connected to a flatscreen LED television had been running for as long as anyone knew. But for all these things dirtying up the room, Christian's Moleskines can be found stacked neatly on a corner, with a red Cath Kidston one noticeably dangling out signifying frequent use. The first thing Christian does whenever he wakes up is to check the web for news updates, both for himself and the world around him, so that despite his voluntary solitary confinement he wouldn't feel left out from the world outside. He opens up his Facebook to check for m

Day 8: Slow Burn

Hikikomori. The first hours back into civilisation was fatal to my morale. There was nothing for me out there, only distractions. My mind was full of blank desolation, and my wallet too. One week. It's like a coal parasite starting to profuse the flame, conducive to heat, slowly inching its way to my heart clutching it like nothing else can. Two, three hours gone, I go mental. Every absence of response I begin doubting everything. After meeting old faces I could not hope to contain my depression. They completely ignored me when they personally asked me to come. I did ignore them first though, just because I could not swallow the defeat. After a couple of hours I went back home immediately, nothing in hand but solitude. The flat was brimming with sadness. I belong here, whether I like it or not.

Day 7: Fail at coping

Fourth day spent wallowed in self-pity. I miss my Mioseon tremendously, I could break heads of people passing by who just happens to even look at me the wrong way. It's been a week since then and it already felt like months, years. It's funny how time flies so fast, my scalp itches from the lack of proper hygiene. My mood swung back and forth this past couple of days not even my parents could understand what's really going on. Nutshell: That's me. I wouldn't have done all the things that I've done if I knew this day would come. So many regrets, so little time, and coping up is really moving slow. We've been talking a lot over Facebook since her arrival in Busan. I've been doing my own studies to pass my time, learning Hangul and whatnot. It's very difficult to sport a smile on my face, it's weird. I went to work three days and it somehow helped keep my mind off of things. But still, when the painful images of the last hours we spent together

Day One: Hello, Sadness

I only had twenty-four hours to see Mioseon and only six hours to discover that she was leaving me to go back home to South Korea. Somehow I wasn't surprised by her abrupt decision. I kind of expected it but I didn't want to believe it. Remorseful, regretful, sure, but not surprised. When she told me, I could still manage to breathe. When she slowly started running, that was the end of me. The next six hours was painful beyond words and feelings. I did not deserve to be dealt with that just yet. Not by her. Couldn't be. It took me what little of what's left in my pride to beg her to stay. Think it over; think it through; handle this together; promise I'll do anything; whatever you want; I love you; have mercy; I'm dying. My desperation was reeking and my laughter slowly faded out. One by one, the person began to fade away as well. Only in my wildest dreams could I possibly imagine that such a moment like this would come. Exactly a year ago I began this jour

It's over

Thursday turned out to be the shittiest day of my life ever. Nothing will ever be the same. Nothing will ever be forgiven.

Vel: Draft One

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Still rough around the edges, needs proofreading and geographical critique. For now this is the first continent. I also have the draft for the second and third, but this one's just about good to go.

Throwback Thursday

I'm dying in anticipation for what's coming on Thursday. It's going to be special. The flat is ready, my body is ready, -- my wallet isn't but what the hey -- and my mind's ready.

Move along

I finished eating a can of fish. Now I stink so bad, my fingers stink harder, no matter how much cranberry juice I drink. The fish leftovers are still beside me stinking as well, ironically, beside my cologne.

Jajjeungna

I've never had a panic attack. I had a panic attack. Now the panic attack is gone, and thank god I'm still alive. One day of work; without Mioseon, everything seems more smooth. I never let the exterior burn me inside out, though. I still need her; she's just somewhere else right now doing what's necessary. Sometimes I wonder if this was all such a good idea to begin with, you know. So I work and spend less money, what of it? My happiness and sadness is her. That's the point. She makes me feel all these things. Life, my dear Watson. Now I'm just a cage of emotions waiting for her to release it. The weather is nice. Good grief. Now I need to travel sooner than later.

Figuring out if I am cut out for this show business a year after everything in my minutiae existence changed for something else much surreal than I imagined it to be

What a rush. It's been a year now. Times have changed dramatically since then. Too much to ponder and the memories are slowing fading. Green grass, Victoria station, my bags were topsy-turvy and barely made a modicum of sense, having chips in a middle of nowhere, thinking my death was inevitable, and finally Edinburgh. It's another month for the Edinburgh Fringe. It was where it all began last year. I just finished my studies in LISPA, this and that, prior to leaving the flat. It was heartbreaking. My father was telling me how everything was monumentally fucked up and he couldn't save it for the both of us. I clenched my fist, the Olympics was coming, Chiara and Gianmaria gave me enough money to leave, and that was that. I left without any intention to come back. Fuck the visa, I said. Fuck it all. I got to the coach station in Victoria and had zero idea what was in store. I had with me very few supplies to last a month. I had booked a flat a couple of days ago in

Less than expected

No word from the half. I'm guessing they're on course to the newfoundlands somewhere by now. It's the first day of the month and just exactly what I'm waiting for for some time now. Scratch that debt when it's due, all that. By tomorrow I'll be out of here as you know it, when all's been said and done. Somewhere far away from all of this. Didn't think I'd miss the solstar, feeling blue and sick, rushing to fetch a glass of natural water by the quayside. I'm frightened now, and I miss it, and I miss them all.

Mace Tyrell

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In a surprising turn of events, Mark Gatiss is not Mace Tyrell. I suppose now he will probably be either a Greyjoy or a Frey. Considering he is also doing Doctor Who and Sherlock, it's safe to assume that he'll probably play a one-off character, like Merrett Frey or Randyll Tarly. Giddy. British actor Roger Ashton-Griffiths has been cast as Dame Diana Rigg's son, the bumbling fool, Mace Tyrell. This gives us another reason why the casting choice of the show is outstanding. He's a bit more than I expected as Mace, but he may be able to easily pull it off. He's not getting that many scenes though, that's for sure.

Phys

My two-week-old cough is now completely gone. That's one reason to smile. 

Whatever sera

And on the third day, I had no idea what to do. After spending two straight days travelling about here and there, I find myself trapped between losing something important and trying to prove a point. After Cambridge, and then Bicester, today was supposed to be Richmond Day. The closer ones always get the boot. Everyone's mood except me is neck-deep, and the only way to handle it was to hide beneath the comforts of my sheets. Then there's the issue of the old flame. Business, she says. Joint business with me, she wants. I'm not really sure. I don't even have budget to begin with. This just sounds to me like a lame attempt at trolling. There's danger in us falling into each other's company, and I know it's wrong. I feel it's wrong. She was history and my present blossomed into serendipity. There's no other point. Then I need to worry about Cotswolds for tomorrow. Maybe even Edinburgh. Friday has me working for one full day with Cora. All t

Cambridge

Tomorrow I set sail for Cambridge where I reunite with my other half in order to please her relatives who are visiting the United Kingdom assumingly for the first time. Finally out of London once more for a little bit of head-cleansing. For the couple of days it's either nothing or pain. All that's left standing is a bag of unfinished businesses, some responsibilities to get my bum around, and to find something which is less diabolical than an intellectual hikikomori on high.

World Map of Vel

World building got a lot more fleshed out after spending a couple of hours in Covent Garden when the language exchange ended. Happy to say it got a lot more interesting, but it needs more polishing and a sprinkle of personality. It's a slow and arduous process.

Hangul

Language exchange made me feel like a student, a retard. My awkwardness reawakened and my senses were all clamped down like an electrocuted duck. Obviously my aim was to study Korean. I definitely need a more educated tutor.

LeBron James handpicks NBA 2K14 soundtrack

NBA 2K14 as handpicked by LeBron James (and/or management): Cool 2 be Southern -  Big Krit Paradise (On Earth) - Cris Cab Lost! - Coldplay Get Lucky -  Daft Punk (feat. Pharrell Williams) Started From The Bottom - Drake Not Afraid - Eminem Long Run - Fly Union Clint Eastwood - Gorillaz Radioactive - Imagine Dragons Can't Stop Me -  Jada Kiss (feat. Ayanna Irish) The Ruler's Back - Jay Z Who Do We Think We Are -  John Legend (feat. Rick Ross) All Of The Lights -  Kanye West Now Or Never -  Kendrick Lamar Can't Hold Us -  Macklemore & Ryan Lewis (feat. Ray Dalton) Hate Me Now -  Nas (feat. Puff Daddy) In The Air Tonight -  Phil Collins Blurred Lines -  Robin Thicke (feat. Pharrell) Elevator -  The Black Keys Howlin For You -  The Black Keys Not too shabby, LeBron. I would have personally swapped Elevator to Have Love Will Travel . Not only because it's a great song, but it would have been ironic.  Final score: 4/5

Old friends, epistaxis

"You need a goal," an old flame had said to me earlier. "You need a goal and aim for it with cold-hearted intent. Then we will meet again." Such fighting words. I've only suffered heartbreak the day before. It did make me realise how absent I am with goals. It's like I suffer from a lack of imagination, a drive. I replied with an empathic jest. She took off, and my day was over. My nose then rained blood on me.

Ellaria Sand

Finally cast. The beautiful Indira Varma is a good fit. Now I wonder how many of the Sand Snakes will they cast into the lot?

Long walks ahead, heigh-ho!

The choices are as follows: Hadrian's Wall Path (84 miles) The Pennine Way (255/258 miles) Southwest Coast Path (628.5 miles) -- Holy shit! Glyndwr's Way (134 miles) Hadrian's Wall Path would suffice for now, if only for the time to consume. The Pennine Way is tempting, but logistically speaking still out of luck, perhaps after stealing a companion or two along the way. And I wouldn't want to be heading to Wales yet without Mioseon, who is far and away for the first time spending a week or two with visiting relatives. The ideal target would be the Southwest Coast Path , but for now one at a time. The weather right now is just ripe for gallivanting. Plans for (mis)adventure are commencing as we speak.

Nitto/Nitta

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Nitto & Nitta @ Hampstead Heath Some months ago, with what now feels like forever.

Twin Peaks

There was a botched attempt by me earlier to watch three episodes of Twin Peaks back-to-back after seeing the pilot the night before. It was difficult. It aged quite unhandsomely. It felt like watching discovered footages in your attic kept safe by your grandfather. I suppose I'm a Lynchian, but no, I'm giving up. Not because of the slow-moving plot or anything like that. The show, by the fourth episode, gave me heavy nausea and very little attention span. But I'm optimistic. I'll probably keep this in hopes to watch it sometime in the near future, when my frustrations for it wane or for reference purposes.

Money Work Money Work Money

First day: Gone. Taken. By a cousin. No money, no job. All the time in the world. Cue bravado. World-building steadily improved. There is joy in sadness. The cough is here to stay. Coke. Cola, cola. Zero family. The slut of a sister. Rediscovery. The job is mandatory, masturbatory. Questions, more questions, more questions than answers with questions. Snore, yeah, yeah. Come back. Respond to me. Lost you. Miss you. Sorry. Sad. My memory of you eating a burger fighting. That's not the way to live a life, to strengthen the relationship.  Where do we find you, sweet thing that provides us with anything, everything? Food, clothing, gears, stuff, yada. Green, green grass of home. Then you get a wedding -- a red wedding -- and I click just to like it. Let's make business. Get filthy rich. Poor people in a rich country giving money to rich people in a poor country. The theory, we shall walk it. Fire walk it. Let's walk and walk. Tent. Let's

The Purge

The nameless homeless black guy should definitely be the star in the sequel. Short review: Movie was gripping until the Preppies finally entered the house. Feel free to 'purge' my memories from the next scenes then on.

The Winter Soldier

Pray tell, oh dear gods of Marvel, will you have the guts to finish off Chris Evans' Captain America to give room for Sebastian Stan's Captain America?

Jon Snow

My prediction would easily be: Night's King of the North beyond the Wall.

Some days it hurts

way past the line by now the drenched heat filling up void there is no excuse i love her no matter the price we are on the verge of sacrifice a death to clean us of our sins to be born anew and in light we smile for the hope it would change for us even my mother or my father or my sister the new brothers and fathers and mothers here and far away i look forward to the day but for now the morning weeps my sorrow flourishes becomes much more distilled flow water hard to come by wishes that my death would cure this all and in the night they would be blinded by the thoughts of failure that they offered to me out of desperation hate anger lust things that matter little to the grand scheme of things what is a day when the duvet is the only place to stay and the only thing to keep her warm while i wallow too much my pathetic self-pity how long will this slide and how far will it go the noise at dawn where the people rise and shake there comes a time when i implode into a suffocating duffel of

Darkness Fell

Somewhere in the southeast, an angel gets devoured by a murder of demons. Demons in the form of man with hearts as black as coal. The bleeding woman weeps as the angel gets dragged into a corner after being run over by a moving car. These demons had premeditated it all. One by one, they appeared under broad daylight with razor-sharp scythes in hand. They mobbed the poor sap down to the ground and they kept stabbing. They dragged him around like a ragdoll while passers-by look on without doing a single thing, taking videos of the horror, spitting their contempt while shaking in their thighs. Cowardice of the first world. The dread woke me up. I remember... will always remember.

Battle Royale

We are back home now as if nothing ever happened, which is frightening me a wee bit, knowing that the hour of reckoning draws ever so closer. I have saved us a boatload of trouble financially by doing so, sacrificing more than just our little pride and security. We find ourselves in the company of familiar people and the warm sunny days of London, which is peculiar that this weather should suffice us after our return. We still have lots of worries to address. I have my own worries, not so much the significant other. She's cradled asleep beside me rocked to oblivion. If there only was a cure to insecurity and addiction. Might I find myself beside the pretty little face quite soon, I reckon. These eyes of mine grow weary of tall tales from mindless thoughts of fantasy and pleasure. Tomorrow awaits a new sunny London morning, and I will exhaust these euphoric hours down to its teats and bones.

Sunny Diaries - D13: Thirteen should be our lucky number

How many last days do we have here in Glasgow? Right now we seem to be stuck here for hours or days on end shuffling our gaits with hope that we can finally rest our legs and, more than anything else, our expenses. It has gotten out of hand as of late I fear that Mioseon will no longer have the resource to book herself a ticket back home some time this week. Everything is problematic given the time allotted and it seems to do us more good than harm to stay with each other than to sacrifice half a year to feel each other's warm embrace once more. We have overstayed our welcome here in Glasgow. It wasn't part of my plan. I should have governed this trip with an iron fist from the get-go. Now it looks as though tomorrow brings us an ounce of joy to return safely home to London and get our shit act together. Nothing productive has been borne out of today's exploits roaming around Buchanan and Sauchiehall except for the extra time we had as a couple together. I know that on

Sunny Diaries - D8: The twisted sense of joy in rage

A week has passed. We should have been there by now. My Mioseon cradles herself to sleep in a hobbit hole here in Glencoe where we just had a challenging night of barbs and quips and japes and threats. I would have left were I not pushed back by the cold and barren night, as well as the hole left in my bank account. Fort William is only a day away and still we remain here struggling to find our refuge from this battle of wits and drizzles. A week ago, right before we took the walk, we had a similar situation at the bus station. I was already inside a bus heading to Milngavie ready to leave when she came at the last minute to sit beside me and reconcile. In hindsight, these battles of ours are seemingly petty and brought about only by my own selfish reasons. She had little to do with these actions, although there are concerns of her unwillingness to learn from these mistakes. We rushed forth knowing that the walk would be arduous and challenging, and not until the past couple o

Sunny Diaries - D1: Glasgow Reloaded

Here I go again. Me and Mioseon landed our feet in Glaswegia after a ten-hour trip from London Victoria. That time spent inside the nauseamobile was depressing, but not entirely bad what with having intimate time with Mioseon and all. She provided me with the nourishment my heart and spirit needs, and my worries dissipate along with the hale that greeted us at Salford. Our goal was to take a week of spiritual journey to finish the West Highland Way. It's going to be her first while it would be my second. Funny how we end up in a circle. First we find our paths crossed in this exact same place we currently find ourselves at, and our remaining time together will be spent doing the same thing I have always wanted us to do on our first day out. I feel like a Phoenix brought to life for pushing through with a promise which then I tried to shrug off. Now we can comfortably say farewell with teary eyes but open arms, longing for the day we will ourselves encapsulated in the same bubb

Sunflower

Image
We dream of life togethermore We dream of souls within our core I dream of solitude and joy She dreams of happiness and coy Time and patience gives a flower its strength To rise above its span and length And perhaps one day the bloom might be much more special than this that we have now

High Street Kensington

Days are short when it is spent on earning my livelihood. There aren't that plenty things to do otherwise. I spent my time fooling around with my bird and then myself, and afterwards I go deep into a trance realising that life is not at all that complicated. It's a cosmic carousel of chaos. I am about to embark on a new journey, and this time the situation is different as it was the last time. I do have the luxury of reason to want to get away. This time, there is that different stroke of emotional strength and willpower to accommodate my every step. This time, I am simply just a different person. My lover will leave the country by then, no rules or events can stop me from pursuing my very desire to search for answers hidden dwelling inside the belly of the beastly world we are in. The fundamental longing for the soul, in hopes to realise that this is what I need, what I want to accomplish, and that I wasn't merely a pitstop for my lover's merry adventures.

You think that's where it's at but it's not where it's supposed to be

Another day rounded off the calendar inching closer to our goodbyes, we muster. My erection turned sour during the sweet morning sex when our bodies just collapse into neverending terms, unendearing and, like a slap to the face, just disheartening. She rolls over to one side, sobbing in tears as she takes my mobile phone, while I crawl to her dark, juicy female bits. I can't have it , I thought. This is just so wrong . I stopped smiling when she stopped caring. Her tears were reptilian and traitorous. Never trust tears from a crocodile despite its best efforts to value your love. '' Open your legs,' I started to beg. 'Please.' The desperation inside me was pathetic, my pride dwindling as my cock is shrinking. She offers no response. Her legs tight shut like a dried ceramic. Her naked form though never fails to impress. We spent our afterbed in petty and frivolous arguments. This relationship is going down fast , I recall myself say. She

Tide is high but I'm holding on

I'm finding out tonight that letting go of work, be it rubbish or not, is not an easy task once you've grabbed ahold of one. There is nothing in my life I despise more now than my job. All the while I've never considered it horrible in every definition of the word but it is degrading and utterly annoying, beyond cheap and burdensome for its salary. I had to endure because of my plans to enjoy the last remaining days of me and my lover. We had settled the score of last night's jealousy. It wouldn't harm me to keep being sceptical, after all, she had a history of juggling two at once, she once opened up. Can't help but feel judgmental and distrustful. She doesn't deserve this kind of treatment from me. I don't deserve any either. Our bond is at its infancy and fragile, not to mention we've already been on a lot worse before this. Pray that the heavy discomfort weighing in my heart would pass, and that it is all a figment of my own imagination, and that

A paper flower called Waitrose

Tired and paranoid. In a couple of days or weeks, Mioseon will be leaving me. She will be going back home to her country, sipping some nice homebrew beside a familiar table inhaling some familiar cold breeze. Spring has come to her at long last. The long and cold winter of London dragged us both to the point of exhaustion. Despite all, I work my ass off to pay her one lasting memory for the time we met and the circumstances that found us both in each other's arms. My head feels like it's about to explode, barely slept, restless, and feeling jaded. While working at the Chinese noodle bar (more on that soon), she messaged me via Facebook how she had gone home late and that I need not bother to worry, how it was a 'long story' and how 'there is nothing I should fear because she's okay' and reassures me subtly hints of her strong feeling of fidelity towards me. I had always felt unease every time we part ways, mostly during Fridays. Today, a Saturday, was a

Le Contrebandier

There is an elephant in the room. I repeat, there is an elephant in the room. As we speak. The silence itself is deafening, the awkwardness maddening. I want to engage the situation at hand headfirst, but I've been doing that since forever, making any effort now seems fruitless and forced. So should I suffer? Beat myself harder? Push myself into another trap? She walks here and there, carelessly and callously. She seems to pay me no mind, as if nothing ever happened. Her mind is completely one-dimensional, and I knock my head to the wall for falling for this trickery. I deserve this because I entered this in the first place, never minding the consequences because I always believed I can just get over it all. I've made this wall myself. I thought there was nothing else to lose and now I'm losing what I never thought I could lose. I've lost everything this time, and now I'll play the blame game.

Unfather

Mioseon is on our bed sleeping, comfortably, I hope, and clueless of my current location.  She has a couple more days or weeks left and the clock is ticking away, shaking the very foundation of my entire being with this one simple decision. She's leaving me for what she calls home for the past twenty years or so. She's leaving me because of the restrictions of her visa. Staying in a country as a tourist has its price, falling deep in love as a tourist even more so. Being granted six months to stay here in the United Kingdom has been both a blessing and a curse for us, but I'm grateful no matter what. These past six months have been the most fruitful of my life as a person. We end another chapter of our lives with so much at stake. I cannot follow her home just yet. My own personal battles have yet concluded and it is only a shame that we met under difficult circumstances. The girl of my dreams bears the child of my dreams for approximately two months now. She