Quick Quotes

"Sometimes even Hope is a luxury the poor cannot afford"

Quick Quotes

"You fall in love with body parts, I connect mentally,
With my female counterpart before we bound physically,"

I'm So Weak

My inspiration for this poem came from Beau Sia's "I'm So Deep"

I'm so weak that I can't do 5 straight push ups
I'm so weak that any girl in this audience can probably beat me in arm wrestling
I'm so weak that I have to take a breather after eating
I'm so weak that walking to the bus stop gets me drenched in sweat
I'm so weak because of well... my broken leg
I'm so weak that I'm using my leg as an excuse
I'm so weak that traveling around this city is exhausting
I'm so weak that I give up on a project before I even start
I'm so weak that I lose all focus or thoughts of school as soon as I leave the building
I'm so weak that I rely on friends to decide where I want to go
I'm so weak that I took the easy way out of finishing high school
I'm so weak that I give in to an impulse merely because I have enough cash
I'm so weak that I don't stand up for myself
I'm so weak that I use poetry to voice my thoughts
I'm so weak that I'm probably trembling in the inside
I'm so weak that I take even compliments as insults
I'm so weak that I'll probably rush off stage after I'm done
I'm so weak that I realize my own faults but don't do anything about them
I'm so weak that this poem is merely a variation of I'm So Deep
I'm so weak that I couldn't think of a proper ending to this poem

And there you have it, I'll probably add more to it once I think of more stuff.

Beau Sia

Simply put, I love this guy and I wouldn't say he's inspired any of my works but he inspires me to keep going at poetry and try and diversify my work.

Boredom Visualized

So this is just to tell people who do read this, that I do have a second blog now focusing on videos that will hopefully entertain you. Check it out, it's called "Boredom Visualized".

Something I've Been Thinking About

Okay so here's the situation:

Suppose it can be determined whether or not someone has permanent amnesia with absolutely no possible way for the person's past memories to return. With that being said the person who has amnesia is no longer the person all those around them remember. The person is completely different and has a different persona, mannerisms and etc. Now with those details out of the way, let's say someone intentionally caused said permanent amnesia. By causing someone to be in that state of permanent amnesia could that person be charged with "murder"?

Now by most definitions murder is defined as taking away a person's life against their will or killing a human being. With the situation above, causing someone to be in a permanent state of amnesia would fall into the category of murder for me. Now for those reading this you may jump out and say that the person suffering amnesia is still alive, but murder is not defined by bodily destruction, mutilation and etc. It is the act of taking away a life or killing a human being, keyword being well, being.

What I'm getting at is that when someone goes through amnesia they are no longer the same person people have memories attributed to the body the person going through amnesia. Bear in mind that this is under the situation that there is permanent amnesia with absolutely NO chance of the memories returning. Thus the person before the amnesia no longer exists and has, for lack of a better word, died. That life can no longer return and is instead replaced by a new persona. Therefore wouldn't the act of putting someone into that permanent state of amnesia be considered, to be in face, "murder"?.

Just a thought that came to my head mind you, but it's an interesting thought don't you agree?

Quick Quotes

"Who am I to put my troubles before others?"

I love these 2

check out their youtube channels for more:

Victor Kim - http://www.youtube.com/user/victorvictorkim

Lydia Paek - http://www.youtube.com/user/JUUKKES

Quick Quotes

"The most unbearable prison in the world can be your own mind"

Short Story Pilot

So this is just a short story pilot idea. Hopefully you all enjoy it.

I once told a friend that love was a lot like playing hangman. A game filled with the unknown, a game where one guess can either complete the picture or leave you out to hang and dry. And now, that very same friend is in front of me, one wrong guess away from losing that metaphorical game. It was already night when he came over to my place after he called saying he needed to talk. As soon as I opened the door to greet him I could already see he was on the verge of breaking down. He came to talk about the girl he had been telling me about for the past while.

There was this girl he fell for and though he knew from past experiences that unless he was sure she felt the same about him, he would merely be repeating the same masochistic routine of blinding himself in a fantasy. He knew what he would be getting himself into and what the consequences would be if he allowed himself to be blinded, and despite knowing how painful it would be on himself should his aspirations fail he chose to go through with it anyways. As he poured out his heart to me about why he chose to do so his voice became hysterical with emotion. I still remember his rhetoric to try and find some comfort and reassurance from me,

"Why?! Why just this once did I even think I had a chance to change something that was bound to happen. I should have faced reality much sooner so that I wouldn't have to go through this pain all over again. Why for her did I think things would be different?!"

Despite this, I could tell he still hung on to some bit of hope and it was heartbreaking to see this happening to him. I really had no idea what to do to comfort him. I had met the girl before and she was really nice, I could tell why he fell for her and for a while even I thought this time would go well for him because whenever I saw them interact they really did click. So to see him here in this state I was really shocked to have him tell me he believed she did not feel the same way about him. All I could do was place my hand on his shoulder as he sat with his head in his arms.

Seeing him like this it really got me to think about him. He was one of the nicest guys I knew, it really was a shock to me to find out just how bad he was with the opposite sex. It's not like he couldn't get along with them or anything. Now that I think about it, it was just that whenever he found a girl he really liked he didn't know how to go about things. But growing up with him it is understandable. To start off with he had low self-esteem and despite having a lot of great qualities he never had the confidence to fully exploit them and so he would always believe there was nothing a girl would like about him. He's wrong though.

Quick Quotes

"Love is a lot like playing hangman, fun to poke and guess around for the right answer, or you just outright hang yourself to dry"

M-PaoWord Poetry - Life Without A Father

Grew up without a father,
Because the bastard didn't care to bother,
About his new son in his life,
Just up and left my mom because she wasn't his wife,
Went back to his home,
And left me all alone,
With my authoritative mother,
Who only knew how to be strict and would always smother,
Me with her own love,
And this is the beginning of a story I rarely speak of,
But this is how I was raised,
One mother, always busy, not time to give her son praise,
I wasn't much to begin with,
But how could I be when I'm a love child to begin with,
This may come off as a shock to you,
But I swear it's all true,
And the six years into my life,
Some man made my mom into his wife,
Not through marriage but through common law,
I now had a stepfather, I should've been in awe,
But the bastard was no different,
Just another man who remained indifferent,
To my needs as a growing boy,
Not once did he solely indulge me, not even with a dollar store toy,
Sure I got some stuff from him like a bike and a jacket,
But there was no love or thought in it,
He got the bike because he could use it,
And then there was the sale when bought my jacket,
No good memories form in my thoughts,
Just a memory of him threatening me to leave me in a parking lot,
Yes that's right, the bastard wanted to leave me there and rot,
Fear traumatizing me and freezing me to the spot,
No the best memory I know,
Just til we jump three years into the snow,
But before that, that memory was way back in grade four,
Now three years later be prepared for what's in store,
Back in a house league playing ball,
Knee bent backwards, took a hard fall,
Pain throbbing in knee,
Lying on the ground in pain, not a sight he cared to see,
No trip to the hospital to see what was wrong,
Just thoughtless words like "it's nothing, you're a boy, you should be strong"
Mother wasn't around to see how thoughtless he was,
Never told her either because that's what a thoughtful son does,
Didn't want any conflict or pain for her,
Because she had someone that could properly support her,
But back to the story set in grade seven,
It was in the dead of winter and my life was far from heaven,
A hyper extended knee with no tools for support,
Raised as an obedient son, so I had no retort,
To demand for help from him,
Walking on an injured leg it was as if hell was where I was in,
Six more years I later I just learned not to care,
Twelve years living under the same roof with no feelings to bare,
I learned to not hate him,
I just became indifferent to him,
It's just every now and then I wonder what it would've been like to have a father,
Someone that cared about me and didn't see me as a bother,
Because I'm scared to be a dad one day,
I wouldn't even know where to begin, what I'd do or say,
But I want to be a father so that I can give something I never had,
Because being raised by only one parent can get really sad,
And now I have nothing more to say,
Just that I found out I was a love child, back on my eighteenth father's day,

Quick Quotes

"It's not the quantity of time you spend with someone, it's the quality time with them that allows you to truly understand them"

Bootylicious

Bootylicious

M-PaoWord Poetry

I Feel Like A Toilet

You say I'm a nice guy,
But to you, I'm just a toilet,
You say you like listening to my advice,
But really, you're just here to dump your shit,
Just being honest here, but really,
Other than that you have no need for me,
But when that time comes,
All you do is come to dump shit, that or pee,
Because when all you do is tell me your problems
It feels like you're just pissing all over my life,
Placing all your troubles before mine,
It's not like I'm not going through pain or strife,
But that's what a self-centered person does,
And what you deem me, a selfless person, doesn't do,
I'm like, "Hey what's up? How are you doing?",
And you're like, "Oh hey, nothing much. Just here to poo",
I'd like to say I deserve more than that,
Because one day you're going to end up clogging me up,
You'll be bitching and whining about what to do,
And I will take great pleasure in telling you, "Shut the fuck up",

The End

Quick Quotes for the Dat

"The only thing necessary for evil to flourish is for good men to do nothing" - Edmund Burke

"What your mind doesn't know, your heart fills in" - (It's a quote from a non-recurring character on Stargate SG-1)

A new poem I wrote DURING poetry slam last night. It was such an amazing experience and it got me to write on the spot. It is kind of rough but I hope you enjoy.

What is age? What is age?
It is nothing but a chronological stage,
And just so you know I'm 19,
But what does that really mean?
I really don't know you see,
Throughout my life I've just been me,
You see, I like to act like a child,
It gives some spice to a life that is otherwise mild,
It adds a smile to my day,
Which is more than I can say,
About friends who say they're mature,
But what does it mean to be mature?
I've been given the assumption it's to take responsibility,
But whenever I see criminals go on trial all I hear is, "Not Guilty",
I know it's innocent until proven guilty,
But in my eyes all criminals are cowards to me,
But enough on that before you think I think criminals are fearful pricks,
In reality they really are no better than quarreling kids,
No offense,
I'm just sitting here on a fence,
Observing the world before my eyes,
Taking in what are the truths and picking through the lies,
But back to being a child,
Where my problems don't stack into a pile

I never thought this would happen

So I just feel like writing down something that happened to me on a TTC bus while I was on my way home on October 14th, 2009. If for any reason those who read this don't know, I was struck by a car back on August 2nd, 2009 and so I am still recovering from a broken leg, but that is another story. Back on topic. Anyways, as I got onto the bus (the 34 Eglinton East going to Eglinton Station) I noticed that many of the front seats had already been occupied and that the front was packed with the usual people who do not feel leike moving to the back. So I decided that it would be worse for me to sit down and have other move around in front of me, thus impeding my exit 3 stops from the station and so I stood up. Now as the bus pulls out of Kennedy station and exits onto Eglinton Avenue this middle aged Caucasian woman starts screaming hysterically at the other passengers on the bus. At first I had no idea what she was screaming about but after a few seconds I understood that she was screaming for my sake. She had assumed that no one had offered me a seat as I was standing on the bus with my crutches. However, someone had offered me a seat, but as he was sitting down in front me she would not have been able to see his gesture nor would she have been able to hear his offer. At first I was freaked out because I was the cause for the commotion caused by the woman, but I appreciated her gesture, albeit mishandled on her part. Anyways, she calmed down after a bit, but not before other passengers had retorted with responses to shut up and get off the bus. I was going to apologize to the crowd on the bus for all the commotion but I thought doing so would have insulted the woman who was in earnest just being a kind person.

Anyways that's my story.

Just a quick note/quote/whatever you like to call it

The one who makes life difficult is yourself. Look to yourself before looking to place the blame on someone else.