O U T S I D E

tracker03

scratch

it

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tracker03>>

4th February 2001 

if you,
like everyone else are going
to leave me alone
and like it

so be it

if i 
am going to spend the rest
of my life talking
to the person 
in the mirror

so be it

if you,
obstinate you--
still think that life is bad...

look at mine

if i,
alienated--
am thinking of letting go...

well hang on

this strange sense of voyeurism has
began to grown on me so much
so that it is no longer strange...

and as i see yous merging with the
other yous and the many yous don't 
get choked in my head anymore cos 
yous is no longer a dirty word...

that gradual perishing of I has 
got into the blind spot of yous and 
has brought out the punitive side of 
yous and why am I the sinner...

the feeling of non-existence though 
i see my shadow when there is no light
and the feeling of discontinuity though
i have been dwelling in this emotional 
black hole for so long so long that it
should be time for me to ignore it's 
existence like what yous have done to mine

hate the vulnerable I so small 
that even the caps can't help but 
to add to it's misery and the question
of how to continue living will continue
to bug me until i have reached the pit 
of the emotional black hole--if there is one


>>end tracker03 

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scratch

chalk laden
sprightly green
chipped fingernails
scratching down
wave of terror
gushing through
heart wrenching
punished ears
unsurprising
that's my life

dry flaky blood
pawed across
fresh and biting
sandpapered
three full seconds
my heart bleeds
a tinge of salt
blood on tongue
unsurprising
that's my life

tendrils reached
to force a smile
tendrils slain
i fell to death
tendrils left
not quite human
tendrils anchored
on quicksand
unsurprising
that's my life

cat on street 
nine times to die
trapped alien
immortalized
attempts to 
touch human race
labelled plague
captured again
unsurprising
that's my life

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it

A lethargic mien 
tinge of childishness, 
air of a potent rebel, 
feeling 

feeling of loss 
eyes welled by melancholia 
Take this odyssey 
"In the pursuit of truth" 

The truth, so hideous, 
yet elusive, 
yet so non-conforming...... 

To the many others 
lost in this suicidal odyssey, 
May I say my prayers 
Ripped, Ripping, RIP 

it will never return, 
after it is lost. 
The wandering child in it 
Roams- 
in this vast space of nothingness, 
Trapped- 
in this surreal maze, 
The devil 
played a nasty joke 
It will never return. 

Perilous route 
As the evils abound, 
Will strangle us 
Suffocates 
till we die a horrible death. 

Or 

stretch their skeletal hands. 
Grab and throw us into 
The bottomless abyss. 

Familiar. 
Obstinate individual 
Choice 
Choose to ride the under currents... 

Insanity 

Whatever 
Whatever 

Fake the attachments 
don't wander, 

Desires-- 
Aloofness
Temptations --
Nonchalance 
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