Good Feeling

where do emotions go

when they became animals?

emotions of college dropout blues,

emotions of getting a midnight flu

emotions of a dysfunctional love,

resulting in getting papercuts

while writing divorce papers.

remember, the worst thorns of cuts,

will never be just a cut.

there’s a difference between being stabbed

and an accidental slice to the back.

but emotions can’t tell.

they are people too.

⠀⠀⠀
emotions of having a papercut,

emotions of petty political debates

between the corrupted and the cynic,

emotions of destroyed destiny,

emotions of the urge to kill.

but conscience made us the nicest people

when misanthropy hid behind heavens.

emotions of emotions of emotions

layered on top of one another

resembling sugar-coated thoughts,

dripped in blood and salty tears.
⠀⠀⠀

i hate everyone,

i hate everyone.

that feeling will disappear.

good feelings like this

are a spoonful of apathy

in endless conversation pieces

stained with spilt coffee.

i just hate everyone,

what a good feeling.

mypoetrysignature2

Ah, Golly

tensed, hands clenched,

posture straight up,

“you have the floor, ma’am.”

straight ahead, to the middle,

direct observations

of envy, whispers and thoughts

of “what is she going to do?”

breathe in, breathe out.

recite, hands flapping around.

and ah, golly fuck,

i forgot.

continue on to the end.

perfect, a little awkward.

walks back.

fuck.
mypoetrysignature2

Run

foreign meekly mind of mine,

travelling miles with horizon’s smiles.

back there, i couldn’t bear

to spill myself and dance with gloom.

my heart has a vast of space

to blast off great days,

leaving a room for a dark embrace.

i guess we don’t need the rain

when eyes had completed the water cycle.

puffy, reddish and rubbed from pain.

i don’t have a fucking bicycle

to ride away in great distances

because those clouds’ existence

up in the blue bed of the hidden,

don’t seem to look the same.

mypoetrysignature2

To Kill Grandfather’s Clock

reality’s tales

plays its trails

like a cassette tape.

spools rotate,

hitting repetition

and mistakes

goes into collision.

⠀⠀⠀
time never likes

to go back into reverse,

it is timeless

of your shenanigans,

it does not pity

what you’ll grave.

expect forward first,

straight to oblivion

or sinking in

unfamiliar skins.

mypoetrysignature2

Pots and Pews

an ashy phoenix erupted

from the pair of oxygen tanks,

whatever we inhale, we fed

the beast to wash our angst.

kneeling with cracked skins

and slumber with white in haven,

hushing the inferno from within.

letting out the phoenix that came in,

it flew with blazing wings.

caught by the susurrus of the wind,

it dies, but tomorrow, we’ll sing with the crows,

have one more and in there, he goes.

mypoetrysignature2

I’ll Take the Quiet Life

the rustling turn on each page

as my fingertips ran through them

whispers in a raspy old age,

“stay with me, ahem, ahem.”

and i did.

in the middle of march’s night,

how badly i want to get rid

of all my own’s fright.

bravely, i bother not to,

it’s not a big hairball monster,

no one can see, i knew,

it’s not a pixie nor a creature,

it’s not in me nor in her.

doesn’t scare me away,

i can come back everyday.

this time it’s killing me,

no fangs, no sharp knives.

i think it’s just me.

mypoetrysignature2

✓ Ready Player One

ready-player-one-book-cover
Scatterbrain’s thoughts:

If my younger self were to read this book, she would explode in fireworks of joy, this universe had created her past-existing fantasy of inventing a game device with the ability to stimulate our senses and literally construct a second reality. Who wouldn’t want to be immersed in that?

Enough of the rambling, I have to unfortunately admit that I wasn’t born to understand some of the nerdy references of the 1980s. I know, I am a low-class, uneducated nerd myself, but in another perspective, it offers a nostalgic element as if you were 80-90s kid, even if you weren’t even popped out of that era.They have brought back the olden days thanks to the high almighty of the nerds, Halliday. Take note, the whole scenario was set in 2044 where earth was remotely overpopulated and everyone had become hermits hiding in their gaming utopia, people are stacking up their RV just to make more room for others!

Wade Watts, our protagonist, is an 18-year-old technophile with a vast knowledge of nerdy stuff. He’s a voracious reader and researcher of Halliday’s favourites to the point were he could recite the entire movie plot of WarGames and all those thingamagings. I once concluded that this kid might be a genius, somehow every character is in this book, I mean- I can’t recall all the dialogues of my favourite films, only the synopsis is what I keep in my head. A being with no life will watch a film at least a hundred of times to start speaking like the characters and this dude clearly has no life at all because of the nerve-wrenching egg hunt publicised by Halliday which no one was able to get the first key, until Wade chimed in.

Now, moving on to the tiny, world issue insights I’d like to address to, there’s a metaphorical mixture of fucked up politics like the imperialism of the malicious, men in dark blue suits- the Sixers (or the people who sucks). Their desire to control the whole OASIS and remove the “play for free” policy to “pay monthly” is obviously a stab to the heart for the gamers out there (gunters). There are people nearly on the brink of poverty, I don’t think some could pay off their monthly debts. Then, there’s racism subtly shown somewhere near the end of the story, but I’m putting that aside because I do not want to spoil this precious book. Go read it for yourself if you’re into pop culture references, science fiction, gaming and all those nerd shenanigans, it’s definitely worth a read.

Ratings: 5 out of 5 stars!

mypoetrysignature2