Monday, January 17, 2022

The Chemist


We all had dreams when growing up, some dreamt of becoming pilots, other astronauts. The rollercoaster of life caused some of us to become chemists, whether by choice or not. Chained to their laboratory, experimenting, and forfeiting sobriety.

They play the chemist with dull knives till they are on the floor hitting the ceiling and falling off the cliff, tiptoeing in the void, leaving behind a broken Lego house. Staring from the deepest of the deep end up to the world that others live in, searching for the sun but they meet only with unnatural lights that burn their skins to their bone, sharing their ‘sins’ for the people above to point at.

They chained themselves consuming their chemistry, till it’s the latter that is consuming them and dictating their moves.

We fight off oppression, looking for independence and freedom but we put to the side those that are oppressed by their alter ego, addiction. Should we not extend a hand to help?

The society we live in taught us to turn a blind eye to those that are struggling and to show them that we are better. Their humanity is slowly burning up, leaving them to die over and over again in their head. Dull knives are twisting their insides, making them ask for more chemistry to ease the pain that they create.

Countless left their lives in the pursuit of chemistry, being animals in a cage constantly tortured by the small voices inside their head. They will lift the telephone to call for help, but it’s the demons of their past that answers, they cry for help, but people will say ‘you made your choice now deal with it’.

Who do they turn to when spirits are their only friends? Where do they run to when their house does not feel like a home anymore? The only recourse they have left is to pop one more and hit the floor in an eternal slumber, finally rid of the pain.

They ultimately renounced a family, a future and love. I saw the pain left behind firsthand, I am lacking words to explain the pain or to give any encouragements, take care of what you have before missing it.


Special thoughts to the victims of drugs and addiction, and to the close ones of the victims. The fight is hard, but with support and humanity there is hope, do not let that hope extinguish.

Monday, January 10, 2022


 They say do good and karma will reward you, do bad and karma will punish you.

But who decide what is good and bad, who deserves punishment or not? How are we expected to live under the threat of punishment by some astral figure? 

What if instead life is just a circle of pain and rest and karma is a human construction of a moral code? 

The boy lived some hard times, getting his soul ripped slowly away, tear ducts like a desert and the heart going numb with pain. He wishes for it to be over one way or the other, seeking an eternal cure for pain.

Then come a moment of rest, where the pain goes on a hiatus and the boy learns to smile again. The smile is so fake however..

What is the use of smiling if the circle starts all over again and the pain comes back and hits even harder, and it will eventually come as we are mere pawns of a higher power. Acting out a play for the sickening enjoyment of someone, or something. 

Thus the boy smile not, but close his eyes and accept the fate to come.

If the goal of his life is to be in pain, let pain be his oxygen. He will not complain, he will not lash out, he will only write so that one day his close ones can understand his actions.

Seek not answers while reading, but open your mind to questions. 

Saturday, January 23, 2021

Deep Under

 Deep under he is scared, scared of what could happen or what should happen. He is always on the edge, trying to achieve greatness in vain. He close his eyes and dream of himself being at the climax of his life, only to open them and realize that he is groveling in the dirt.

Life is not a wish-making factory, there is no stairway to heaven, albeit, we aren’t sure if heaven is a concrete matter or a fantasy of a life’s suffering.

Trying to carry his weight around on the Earth, he raise his head to glimpse of what he could become, if only he was someone else. Someone said to him “Someday you will take your own life, to leave a mark here in this world” and since then, he is scared, scared of what could happen or what should happen.

He walks with a quick smile, a fading one. He jokes to make others think he is at peak shape, he plans his future with his loved ones, a lie in its essence. He plans ahead of what he knows he will not reach. His life is like a lit cigarette, the more everyone takes a puff out of it the less he has to live, to struggle, but he also slowly kills everyone around him.

His pen and his guitar are helping him trudge through the mud, yet his pen and his guitar are drowning him in the upmost sorrow, a sorrow that is stabbing him with every breathe that he takes. His life blood pour out of the wounds, and everyone raises their cups to his fall. He did not go as a Julius Caesar, but like a mundane individual out of the billions in existence. “Love, you will someday achieve” they told him, but inside, he keeps the darkness close at heart as he knows that this will be the fuel for his writing and performance, this will be the thing that will keep him going. Going till when? he doesn’t know, but what he knows is that to use the darkness as such will surely cost him everything.

Not everything, his only respite is that the darkness will leave behind sadness, his mark.

Tuesday, October 13, 2020


 He was plagued by innocence in his daily life. Fun, friends and school, that is all he knew. Life was just a carousel of pleasures, the island offered more to him that he could enjoy. Mortality was just a faraway speck of dust in his mind, for again, he was as naive as children were. Life went on, he constructed a facade for himself, an unconscious shield to the harshness of this world which we call home.

He had a guide in life, one that did not ever let go of his frail hands. The almighty shone light on his path, and he pursued this light with fervour, always feeling like he owe these invisible powers something for the positive turns of his life.

Yet the embers of his life quickly died out, realisation hit him, life showed its real nasty colors. 

His guide and model figure ascended the heavens, he was left alone trodding in the darkness. Everything was sudden, his dreams plummeted faster than everything else. 

He woke up to a happy morning, and came home to find the death of the one he considered equal to the almighty. His path was just a descent from there on, one that even Dr. Faustus would have refused. Let the bygone be gone, and pick up from there to build something new...they all said that at the climax of the tragedy, but who really managed to see this through? Certainly not Macbeth.

This left a scar, deep inside where no help could reach. The boy now man, has only one phobia, to see his phone ring with a call coming from home. He always pick up the phone with his heart racing and his sweat cold, mentally preparing himself, albeit in vain, to receive the bad news. It never came. Although never is a heavy word in this context, life goes on, and never becomes the future.

The Chemist

  We all had dreams when growing up, some dreamt of becoming pilots, other astronauts. The rollercoaster of life caused some of us to become...