The Fragile Moment.

Not that I'm hunger for touch.
But to be without it,
Could we enjoy life so much?

I lay eyes and lingered.
On all that made up you.

Humanly simple beauty,
Of nothing purer than ordinary.

You could still be a stranger.
But I could know you by touch.
The fragile moment of slow and rush.

My first memory of....

My first memory of primary school was me running around with other kids in the playground at lunch time break. I don't remember why, but some how I knew right then that I'm different. Something told me I didn't belong. Maybe, it was because I didn't understand at all why they did things they did or why they don't do things they don't.

My parents were different too. They are not the type of people who managed to hold on to friends.
My biggest ambition has always been to fit it and to have a huge group of friends.
I remember trying so hard.
I still have no friends.
Actually I could say I have no one.
or that I have none.

Countless times, I ask myself why. "Why?" Why should I be the odd one?

POP ART RESIN

Crippled smile

I fell to the deepest, darkest silence.
Disturbing silence.

Reached out to nothing.
I kept sinking.

Silence tears from my dry eyes,
I became deaf.
You became blind.

You burned life by the pitch of your voice.
Dead silence.
Souls, crippled.

In my silence, I screamed and shouted.
I wet my eyes.
I cried, I cried,
But you were blind.

some how I hate myself...and some how... I just shrug.

As naive as I was, I used to believe my soul was so pure and as clear as crystal. I believe in the goodness in me. I was taught to give and to believe in the goodness of people. I was taught to help and to support. I was teach to do so many good things which now I've forgotten all. Those beautiful lessons that fell to the side as I walked the years.

I believe I was about 8 or something when reality hit me as hard as a car crash. I shouldn't give money to those poor people I see on the streets because they are all liars. Even ones who looked like they really-really needed help are just liars who are great performer. Right then I had a theory of my own that there much be someone in the crowd who actually need help. What if no one helps that person. Well, I said to myself that when I grow up to the point when I can make my own decision I'll give money to people who needs it as long as I don't go troubling myself. And guess what. I'm now 20 and still repeating that sentence over and over.

I feel guilty every time I walked pass a beggar and didn't give out any money. But when a thought comes in my head to reach in my pocket for some money, I wiped it out of my head so fast, shake my head and say to myself that it's normal and right not to give money to beggar and I'm so cowardly disturbed by the thought of not being as normal or as right.

I stopped supporting other people when I was in high school. I learn from my parents and their co-workers and my friends and their friends that in the end we all support ourselves first. As much as I care to give what is best to you, bottom line is my trouble is meaningless to you when your ass was not saved first. I learn when you're nice and have faith in people you get used. Then I learn I should use people so I won't be unjustified by only getting used by others.

I'm now sitting here at 20, thinking what kind of a person I've grown up to be, then I realized, I've grown up to be the normal typical adult that I hated so much when I was little. Those selfish people who I doubt if they ever spend time studying morals and religious.

And some how I hate myself...and some how... I just shrug

Desperate Sun

If you'll let me,
I'll be your sun, shining.

Whether it's casual.
Whether it's temporary.

I used to shine for someone.
But there gone eternity.

What good is a sun,
when shines to no one.

Would a sun be a sun,
when bright up none.

I'll be just a rock.
Hard, cold and lifeless.

Let me shine for you.
Even for a night.

Even for a minute.
I need to know I could shine.

LITTLE CHILDREN

Just Hold Me by Maria Mena.
and
I Can't Wait by Maggie Gyllenhaal
Justify my love by Madonna

The lives of two lovelorn spouses from separate marriages, a registered sex offender, and a disgraced ex-police officer intersect as they struggle to resist their vulnerabilities and temptations.

Director:

Todd Field

I'm not whole.

I found a fragment of myself... fallen beneath my bed.
I wonder how long it had been there, hidden.

I wonder how many I've lost.

Perhaps too many.

I feel like a set of puzzles, splashed all over.
Some little pieces were missing.
I can't pull myself together.

I'm not whole, just a fragment of a picture.

I found a fragment of myself, so long been hidden.
A memory, purposely forgotten.
A feeling, harshly repressed.

I've pretended not to care.

Shall I put the puzzles back together?
Puzzles are never too hard of a game.

But life is never a game.

Shall I find those fragments I've lost?
Or shall I keep it lost?

If I'm whole, would I be decent?

If I'm whole would you see different?"

See me.
My thoughts are lost.

The story goes that some time ago, a man punished his 3-year-old daughter for wasting a roll of gold wrapping paper. Money was tight and he became infuriated when the child tried to decorate a box to put under the Christmas tree. Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift to her father the next morning and said, "This is for you, Daddy."

The man was embarrassed by his earlier overreaction, but his anger flared again when he found out the box was empty. He yelled at her, stating, "Don't you know, when you give someone a present, there is supposed to be something inside? The little girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes and cried, "Oh, Daddy, it's not empty at all. I blew kisses into the box. They're all for you, Daddy."

The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little girl, and he begged for her forgiveness.

Only a short time later, an accident took the life of the child. It is also told that her father kept that gold box by his bed for many years and, whenever he was discouraged, he would take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there.

In a very real sense, each one of us, as humans beings, have been given a gold container filled with unconditional love and kisses... from our children, family members, friends, and God. There is simply no other possession, anyone could hold, more precious than this.

This short story is taken from www.indianchild.com
visit www.indianchild.com for more motivational short stories.

Once upon a time, there was Wendy.

Once upon a time, there was my friend, Wendy. You might had seen her around but you didn't quite know her well. She was always smiling. She was always forgiving. Little Wendy never got mad. Nor she ever fought back. When she walked in you knew her but when she walked out, she was soon forgotten. Wendy was nice, but nice had never done her right.

Little did you know what was going in little Wendy's mind. She was sick of this world, this plain and simple life. she was sick of the mid-day sun, the noisy cafeteria with stupid conversations. She was sick of things she cared and also things she didn't.

The story of how I became late.

I woke up late to the rush hour.
It's 10.30
My head was blank and sloppy.
I dragged myself to shower and sat on my tub in trance.
20 minutes passed and my dad yelled "hurry up!"
I walked out in my towel.
I walked pass the bookshelf.
Another 20 minutes passed as I read MAKING FRIENDS by Andrew Matthews.
He said "Forgive people for their imperfection".
My dad yelled "hurry up!" as I changed into my third outfit.
15 minutes passed, I'm packing my bag for the day.
10 minutes passed, looking for things I don't remember where I last put it.
My dad yelled "hurry up!" as I ran down the stairs.
5 minutes for breakfast but it was 11.40
Put on my shoes and at last I was ready.
No, not quite.
The shoes didn't fit right.
Another 5 minutes passed, I'm now in the car.
1 hour and a half for Bangkok's traffic.
On the way, dad was giving me shit.
But hey the class starts 10.30 so however later, it wouldn't matter a bit!!

Colorblind

Counting Crows "Colorblind"
Ost. Cruel Intentions.

I am color...blind
Coffee black and egg white
Pull me out from inside
I am ready
I am ready
I am ready
I am
taffy stuck, tongue tied
Stuttered shook and uptight
Pull me out from inside
I am ready
I am ready
I am ready
I am...fine
I am covered in skin
No one gets to come in
Pull me out from inside
I am folded, and unfolded, and unfolding
I am
colorblind
Coffee black and egg white
Pull me out from inside
I am ready
I am ready
I am ready
I am...fine
I am.... fine
I am fine

Quelqu'un m'a dit

A song by Carla Bruni, called Quelqu'un m'a dit. (I Love Them Both)

LEVI'S DANGEROUS LIAISONS

... This is officially cool. Above from the extreme hotness. The music, Strange Love from Little Annie fits this perfectly. It is beautifully done. I mean, what could possibly be a naughtier way of telling us how Levi stood through generations? Super clever!!
Plus, it shows off some nice old editions of Levi's jeans. Wonderful!!

thumbs up for this!

Agency: BBH, London
Creative Director: Caroline Pay
Agency Producer: Davud Karbassioun
Art Director: Steve Wakelam (art direction), Dean Wei (typography)
Production Company: Rattling Stick
Director: Ringan Ledwidge
Producer: Sally Humphries
DP: Alwin Kuchler
Post Production: The Mill, London
Audio Post: Aaron Reynolds @ Wave
Offline Editor: Richard Orrick @ Work
Music: "Strange Love", Little Annie
www.rattlingstick.com