carissa796's Xanga

Buzz Session

Sun, 19 Nov 2006 04:47:09 GMT

So I came home from the usual madworldmadness suffocated

in blue ashes and roach spray

and as soon as I'm out of it, things are never as they were.

It's a daily Santa Claus visual surprise.

A woowoowobbly knees, flashcrash presentation of sorts.

A retro rennaissance painting

dances

before my eyes.

*~*

I gotta start wearing my glasses again. :)

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

Tue, 04 Apr 2006 03:20:50 GMT

Jibber-jabber outbreaks of teachers

in their custodian connivance

I don't believe, I don't achieve

In that denim religion seminars

of pretense and curtains

Smelled strongly of burnt rubber

and evaporating paint

Dizzying, addicting, scheming

And half of us throw ourselves

in uneducated education

Masked with theories and logics uncomplained

Thursday, December 22, 2005

Thu, 22 Dec 2005 13:33:02 GMT

Home sick.
Wish the cigarette smoke could bring essences of me back home
Close my eyes and meditate on the nicotine goodness that is god
I find myself swimming across oceans of ginseng coffee
Trying to get to the island of belly dancing palm trees
Failed.
Instead.
Plastic skyscrapers and fork bridges inhabited by burnt paper dolls
I am hung high up on a tupperware building with only my underwear hung on a steel coat hanger to support me
Why do they look at me like that?
As if I am an obligation
They suddenly sing what seems to be their national anthem
They all set sail on gigantic banana hammock warships
I wake up to be greeted by the protection of canvas curtains and the smell of humanity brings me back to where I was -- in a "world inhabited by demonic male competitiveness"

Sunday, December 18, 2005

Sun, 18 Dec 2005 21:25:51 GMT

Whoever invented the notion that "love knows no boundaries" is completely out of it. I admire the notion though. I admire it the same way I think it is ironic that people still hold on to what politicians say though in the back of their heads, they know it's all bullshit.

-----

you bite my cheeks
they automatically go numb
to welcome
your barbed teeth making its incision
your eyes go white
to welcome
the orgasmic bliss
in that second, you feel
in that second, i don't
you catch a glimpse
of what it's like to be me
i catch a glimpse
of what it's like to be you

-----

It's finally come to this.

Monday, December 12, 2005

Mon, 12 Dec 2005 08:24:08 GMT

Sorry, still no beat poetry for me. I'm still stuck in this old school/emo-retro phase, which I obviously do not enjoy.

Hypocrisy decided to extend its stay as you can see, even though the welcome mat was already kicked off the doorstep.

------

I can't remember how it was to feel complete. More and more, loneliness creeps up on me. I feel like I happily threw away a part of my body without any second thoughts but held on to the sad but reassuring fact that I'll get it back anyway.

Like when I was 14, I coughed out my heart and it looked so shiny and new. I happily watched it disappear into the pockets of a boy whose dreams were made up entirely of action movies. A year and 4 months later, I demanded my heart back. He gently placed it on my lap. I held it up onto my face and felt unfamiliar rough spots from underneath.
"I wasn't able to find the chipped off pieces", he said apologetically.

I didn't mind. It was worth it anyway.

Then when I turned 16, I threw my heart up again for another one. Still having the same enthusiasm as I had with the last. Got it back a year and 7 months later, and it looked a mess. Since then, I've been keeping a tube of glue in my pocket everywhere I go because it keeps falling apart once in awhile.

I didn't mind. It was worth it anyway.

And like I said, lately for the last few months, I've been throwing my heart intentionally onto a wall just to watch it smash into tiny pieces. This time, loneliness took form of a guy with overgrowth of facial hair and boyish smiles and deepset eyes and braces(finally...) that changes color every month.

I don't mind. It's still worth it.

And I'll probably never learn, I'll just keep loving instead.

Friday, December 02, 2005

Fri, 02 Dec 2005 14:20:46 GMT

It seems that all things are just a phase. And like change is permanent, I'm afraid loneliness is too. Lately, I feel like I've been intentionally throwing myself onto a wall and watched myself smash into tiny pieces. The capability to feel seems a lot like a curse than a gift when everyone else around you has gone completely numb.

And no, darlings, X-men Legends doesn't make for a decent distraction this time. Oh cursed be me and my insecurities and my current teen angst mode. I keep forgetting I'm not in high school anymore. And to think I just made fun of angsty, depression-induced kiddies the other day. Ms. Hippo Chris E. must have dropped by today.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Tue, 08 Nov 2005 14:11:48 GMT

Render me stupid

I'm loving it anyway

Loving the tie dye

psychedelic color

my skin has turned into

Wave after wave

of ink blots

and paint spatters

People start to glance

I know you're loving

Loving the fakery

You -- an artist taking pride

behind an over-used canvas.

Sunday, October 23, 2005

Sun, 23 Oct 2005 02:50:30 GMT

I was browsing through the documents in my "doodles" folder and look what I've found. It all seems like a dream now. It's just something I wrote on July 1, 2005 at 2 a.m. Thought I'd post it here before it goes forgotten. Made a few revisions as well.

----

It's 2:19 am. I am drunk from vodka mixed with coke and Red Horse as my appetizer. And it's sad that my brother makes me go to sleep or to my bedroom everytime I get drunk. Yes, I am drunk. He makes me go to my room when I've had enough, or have done enough. Maybe I've said too much. And now I'm left alone in my room. My face is numb. I can't feel my lips. So kissing me won't really accomplish much. But having Richie around would still be good though. That way I have someone beside me when the world's spinning around, I always get scared when that happens. But now, there's no one here. I leave my bedroom door open to reassure me that there's still a world. Everyone's singing offkey but they all sound beautiful.

I just read Krystle's message on my tagboard, I had to read it 12 times to understand because it came to me as fragments then it finally came to me as a sentence. I miss you too Krystle. You know how to find me. Not where, because I can be all over the place if I feel like. You know how to find me -- you blink twice to see if it's just a mirage, then you blink some more, until you see that I don't have four eyes after all.

They're over in the next bedroom watching Coldplay's concert. Everyone's drunk. Pretty soon, everyone's gonna be stoned. And my uncle's just outside, he looks a lot like Typecast's lead vocalist right now. Damn, it's like everytime he does something with his hair he looks like someone from a band I like. Before he seemed to look like Brandon Boyd. Then he looked like Rico Blanco. Now he looks like Typecast's lead vocalist. I don't know his name though. My uncle is Morpheus.

Karlo just brought his sister along with him, and she sings the same way she talks. So natural. It was wonderful. It was orange. I hope I make sense when I'm finally sober enough to read this and understand it. It's a surprise I haven't made any typos. Probably because I've been reading everything I typed every now and then. The doors are slamming though mine remains open. Loneliness becomes my Sandman.

---

6:12 am

I found myself lying asleep and waking up to my brother's violent banging on my bedroom door. it's 6:12 am. And sad to say, most of what I wrote really didn't make sense at all. But I posted the darn thing anyway without bothering to revise it. I remember a strong desire to sneak out of the house before I finally dozed off on my beaten up bed that still insisted and struggled to accomodate more than one person but failed many times. It still insisted on trying to live up to its purpose. It's good that the darn thing at least knows its purpose. But before that strange yearning, I remember green, blue and yellow neon lights dancing while Coldplay played some of its familiar songs. I remembered myself taking pictures of four silly boys trying to do the Magnum and Blue Steel but ended up laughing at themselves because they just realized they all looked like shit. Oh right, I remember why I fell asleep and never got to finish what I was trying to write when I was drunk -- my uncle came in my room to show some videos of some bands during their live concerts, I got to see Marilyn Manson playing live while he wore nothing but a shabby piece of clothing covering his waist and a thong. I remember him bending over and I actually remember finding it quite brilliant. Everything appeared so extraordinary last night (or rather several hours ago).

Now for some reason, everything seems to look ugly. The event from last night left a bad taste in my mouth, like I just drank a whole bottle of medicine syrup. Strangely enough, I found every fingernail nibbled down to its last chip of keratin until my teeth can no longer get to them. Something seems different about this morning. Maybe it was the violent banging made by my still-drunk brother that interrupted my sleep to install some game in my computer (He kept shouting Star Wars when he really meant Warcraft). People get wasted too often in this house. Some people come over. More people come over, this time with bottles of alcohol in their hands. Someone starts to put on some music on my brother's computer. And they all get rowdy until they've finally had enough.

I've had enough.

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Tue, 11 Oct 2005 04:47:42 GMT

Ever noticed how most superheroes usually attach gender indicators to their names? Like Batman or Catwoman. And as for villains, they tend to be more creative and believe that people don't have to know whether you're a man or a woman just to destroy the world.

Therefore, I conclude, that villains are more confident with their sexuality.

Thursday, October 06, 2005

Thu, 06 Oct 2005 11:25:27 GMT

It started with a tie-dye psychedelic bruise. He watched her rot slowly. As if her internal organs were placed inside a microwave. She began to crumble. Disintegrating into dirt. He grew lovelier and blossomed endlessly. But she continued nurturing. Never told him that what nourishes him kills her. But he knew. And he watched.