Blog abstract.


About Me:
We are blind to have eyes. We judge when we can see.
What do you see? well i cant see myself- only if i look at my reflection. My reflection tells me likewise. It is a dual reflection of myself so even if i see myself, it wont be me.
So who is it that you see? do u see urself or is it only your reflection? Beauty can be reflected by how u portray it so. However, beauty's just skin deep. We need it, we live to categorize ourselves-it sustains our daily hypocrisies-, but that segregation lies only to reduce what we are really worth. What u see in ur reflection is what you want others to see. The eyes can only portray what is shown, not what can be hidden.
So now, what was the question again? ;)do what you deem to be truthful, seek for true believe for goodness, and venture into the unseeked. Treasure the true value of what encompasses you. i am thankful for my wonderful friends ;)

This is what i also wrote for my HW101 class yesterday.


it was damn fun writing it. We had to use one syllable words.



The swirl specks of blue, red, green, black and white mix up on the plain piece of cloth. My brush splats in a mad rush as I try to catch what i see from my dazed mind. The state of trance brings me up to the sky and way up high; now i know i can fly. I fly far from this messed up world and reach out to my lone and safe nest. I fell safe, i feel free. Now i can be who i want with dear glee. You can peer all you want, but you will not see this side of me.

This was one of my in class assignments for HW101




Canteen B

The hot piercing sum penetrates through the tinted high windows of Canteen B.
Flies buzz lethargically in the summer heat, stealthily hunting for scraps of food vastly scattered on the neglected tables. A low disorderly collage of sounds and chattering fill the stale, humid air. The decadent state of the neglected Canteen B screamed for a need to undergo a makeover. Desperate Canteen B wants to be renovated.

As she lay in a state of despair, the overpowering stench of dried chlorine fills the air, mixing together the smells of cooked food and unkept rubbish; she smelt like death. As she looked on in a haggard and wretched state, the sun continued to glare pulsatingly at her, drying her up like an abandoned Sahara. As she looked on weary to the world & the state she was forced to become, her eyes fluttered to close; she wanted to escape from the harshness of reality, she dreamed to be loved, cared and cleaned. Finally she joined her fantasy ideals and rolled off to a deep slumber.







i loved writing it. =)