You have deemed yourself unworthy of anything. By this, you are unworthy of anything that is classified as a living thing and anything that tastes like a rice cracker. Now for the next test. I know you may have not yet passed the first one, but be prepared.

Test 2: Cleanliness. You are to be rid of all mutable entities. If and when you fail, you will become nothing but the rest of them. Now, if you know what to do, then why aren’t you doing it? Clean up your mess, your act. Get those bloody hands washed and your filthy hair rinsed. Once you are finished, you shall clean your surroundings. It should be rid of all things that may hinder you from becoming alive. Then clean yourself again. Your hands have been dirtied by the soil on which you stand.

Haste, my dear. Time is chasing you.



YOU are a hoax people made up just to gain power and control over others. YOU make my life seem intolerable. YOU are the reason people look up to because YOU are the only one who can do the impossible. But CAN YOU?! YOU’RE NOT HERE.  YOU’RE making it hard for everyone. If you want everybody to learn their lesson, just give them a straight answer. Don’t let them suffer their whole lives and learning that YOU’RE just a relative icon fabricated by the ones YOU SUPPOSEDLY created.

YOU are a very gullible hypocrite. YOU say one thing and do otherwise. An unforgettable one night trip to “heaven” and you’re putting everybody on a leash to hell. You feel so righteous yet you’ve never looked at a mirror. I’m not going to question your ways of coping with the unreasonable jealousy you experience with other people, but heck, if you’re such a wise person, you should know how much you’re wasting on whatever it is that you’re doing. You’re one of the good reasons why I don’t believe in what I believed in three years ago.

I hate promises. I know I break the ones I make, so I try not to make them. I hate comparing because there’s a tendency to evaluate things rather than simply compare one with the other. I hate waiting because there’s no point in waiting for uncertainty. I hate not completely understanding everything I should be aware of. I hate not feeling guilty about making other people work for me. I hate being so fucking dependent. I hate being so helpless. I hate how you make me hope for things I know I cannot have. Most of all, I hate dreaming big cause I know I’m so small.


Why? Of all the questions people would like to ask, it is “why” that most often remains shrugged on or ignored. That question lingers in the back of the mind like a stone dropped on sleeping water. The ripples don’t just fade away. They cascade down until all imaginable corners have been distracted. That unanswered question disturbs the mind. It’s a ticking bomb that drives a whole monument to rubble.

So, why? I wish not to direct my question to certain addressees, but why? Why do you want to become God? Or why do you enter something you do not plan to finish? Why are you very positive that your victim will survive the hell you’ve created? I do not wish to argue. I do not wish to fight. You’ve threatened me in ways I could not even dare myself to think about. Sharing this life you advertised with dreamy detail and unworldly faith, you manipulated the truth. Thank you for everything. Even for leaving halfway. I over estimated you.

All there is left in me is that question. Why?


It’s a trap, you know it by heart. Is it nature or a deliberate act of stupidity that you enter it the same way you stumbled on it before? You’re not cautious because someone told you to “live life” while you’re alive. So you think you’re living it by entering the same rotten trap you once almost died in. You know what you’re doing, don’t you? Let’s bet you’re going to get out with a few bruises, scratches and cuts here and there, but you’ll gladly walk back in. Does it drug you to nostalgia that you gladly put your neck on the line every single time? Don’t tell me you forget what happened before, because I know it scarred you until you can’t feel anymore. Is that what you’re trying to prove the world? That you cannot feel any human emotion, and you act like an animal? You follow your instinct, your senses, your brain, but not your conscience.

I don’t know, dear. That trap is very tricky and you don’t know all the probable situations. You might end up hurting yourself more than teaching yourself not to go back and play with shards of glass. Things happen. They’re unbelievable. They drive you crazy, but you should learn to let them go, and hope that they come back.

Dear YOU,

If only Satan gives out free wildcards to random people…

You know what? There’s this big ball of pride, idealism, perfectionism, tradition, and self-righteous vanity that has your name on it. Maybe you dropped it, or you’re just making the world see who you really are, but it’s not working the way you want it to, dear. I don’t think you want people to rush off to the other side of the street when they see you, do you? You must be suffering some serious identity crisis. No, you’re not Hitler.

This may seem a coward’s path of confronting you – through the back door. But telling this to your face would mean going against my own principles in life. I don’t talk back to elders, but I do question their way of thinking. By the way, is this how your brain once worked? Tell me, were you really this stiff when you were my age?

Don’t older people have to be more understanding because of their self-proclaimed wisdom and knowledge gained from their years and years of experiences? Then why are you very inconsiderate, self-righteous and hypocritical? You have mocked my parents’ ways of disciplining their children, but you don’t even have one. How can you possibly insult them in front of me? What’s funny is how you make yourself look so saintly but your heart is as black as everyone else’s.

Please don’t say one thing and do the other. Stick to your word. It’s called INTEGRITY. And please let me sleep at night without hearing your incessant rants at the back of my head. I can’t believe you had the guts to argue even if you know the grave consequences it might bring.

You are not nor will you ever match with my MOM.

Preparation Pays

Oooooh. So THAT’S why I have an eraser in my pocket, and some tape on my desk. Don’t worry. You’ll be part of that new job of mine.

Got a utensil to marinade your bread with jam eh? Hopefully the jam didn’t expire a month ago.


Oh goodness. Rachel Yamagata is the new Pizzicato Five.

Hello, World.

  • You deserve a hug.
  • Be a man. Say what you mean; mean what you say. Don’t tell me to do something while you’re acting with opposing totality.
  • HappyBirthday.
  • You’re so mean.
  • Seeing a lot of others pass though that was a painful sight. You nearing the finish line is another.
  • I hope you’re happy.
  • It doesn’t matter now.
  • You scare me. HAHA.
  • I hope you’re happy, too.
  • A Fine Frenzy == <3.
  • Oh my god. YOU just made my day. NOTHING can ruin this drizzly day. weeeeeee.
  • Library is the new grill? hahaha not.

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