One call

"If you were going to die soon and had only one call you could make, who would you call and what would you say? And why are you waiting?" - Stephen Levine


Love is when you shed a tear but still want her. It's when she ignores you and you still think the world of her. It's when she loves another boy, but you smile and say, "I'm happy for you," when all you really do is cry.

Just a little longer

You were afraid that you would disappear, that you would be lost and forgotten. I held you tight against the dark and said that I would always come for you. Then one day it happened. You were torn from my arms and vanished from this world. Maybe you don't remember my promise, but I meant every word. I hope you're not afraid, wherever you are. You don't need to be. I'm not. I will find you.

I feel contented

I feel contented to just stare at your display name even though I know you won't talk to me and I know that I don't have the guts to start a conversation with you

I miss you

Missing someone isn't about how long it has been since you've seen them or the amount of time since you've talked. It's about that very moment when you're doing something and wishing they were right there with you


The money required to eradicate hunger for everyone in the world has been estimated at $30 billion a year. IT IS A HUGE SUM OF MONEY. About as much as the world spends on the military every 8 days...

It's happening again

You're always tired from your mind going a million miles a minute. All that really appeals to you is cowering under covers and sleeping off all your relentless, pointless efforts in trying to make everything better. You are disillusioned. Maybe you know that you can change things around, but you question whether you want to or not. Because being sad has some kind of comfort to you- because there's always that familiarity. No matter how long your sadness has been prolonged, it's known that when you revisit it, the same thoughts, feelings and actions all take place. You revisit the same place where you left off.


The number of individual beings which could be standing here in your place vastly outnumbers all of the grains of sand, on all of the beaches, in the entire world. You're the inheritor of a genetic legacy which stretches back 3.8 billion years through the eons, and which has circled the center of our galaxy about 20 times.

You're the endpoint of billions of generations of birth, competitions, wars, and deaths; the only possible sequence of hereditary combinations that can possibly result in you. Your forbears have survived arguably the single greatest ecological catastrophe ever to hit the planet; when the earliest plants started poisoning the atmosphere with oxygen. Yet, your ancestors learned to use this poisonous gas to produce energy in a way that had never been attempted before; an evolutionary triumph which paved the way for the first multicellular life. Your genetic line has survived floods, freezes, and meteor impacts from the skies themselves, preserving this single genetic line through the eons to lead ultimately to you. This is a legacy you share with every living thing on earth, from the largest creature ever to have lived; the blue whale; to the lowliest prion. You share this legacy with the blades of grass between your toes and the trees that give you shade. You are a thread in a huge, amazing, incredibly diverse tapestry of living things; some of whom have clawed their way out of the seas to survive on land, some of whom remained in the ocean, and a few of whom stood on land for a few million years, ultimately said "well, screw this" and marched back into the sea.

Once we add cosmology into the mix, not only does this legacy stretch to everything living, but to the non-living as well. You share your origins with the stars and planets, the asteroids which hang in space, all the way down to the loneliest hydrogen atom in deep space. All the parts that make you stretch back through the eons and have borne witness to the very birth of the universe. They have seen the birth and death of stars, supernovae, black holes and pulsars. They've seen planets torn to pieces and solar systems form. They've seen galaxies coalesce and skies darken.

The universe is much more grand, more amazing, more beautiful, more elegant and more subtle than has ever been written in any holy book, and you are here, against nigh-incalculable odds, to see it all. Just consider that for a moment.

When faced with two choices, simply toss a coin.

It works not because it settles the question for you, but because, in that brief moment when the coin is in the air, you suddenly know what you are hoping for

2:05 AM

I'm trying to sleep, but the voices in my head are too loud, and I'm remembering all these things that I've done. So I turn to my side and face the wall, and breathe slowly. Close my eyes, open them, close them once more. I see his face now, you know, the boy I told you about. Now, I know I won't be able to sleep. I suppose this is why most people are insomniacs; the voices won't go away, the memories keep coming back, and people haunt them in the darkness of the night. I turn the lights on, sit on the edge of my bed and cry. Just a little bit, just to make it easier to breathe. I turn the lights off and try to sleep again; it's going to be a long night.

I am unsure about who I am

I hate it when people judge me when I don't even know how to judge myself. Life seems so difficult when for some people it seems so easy. I feel like everyone in this world was given a manual on how to live but I wasn't given mine. I wonder why I don't fit in. These thoughts constantly haunt my mind. I hate how this world works. I hate people. I hate human nature. How are inhumane things human nature? I hate greed. I hate love. I hate hate. I wish life would just slow down.

I hate the fact that I think I might be deep when I type things like this. Are these actually my thoughts? or am I trying too hard to write something deep? I think I am incapable of feeling deep emotions. I've never cried at a funeral. I've never been happy at a wedding. I rarely smile. I feel very shallow. I hate posers. I feel this makes me a poser myself. I don't know why I'm writing my thoughts up here. Maybe it is to vent... maybe it is because I want to impress classmates. I'm not sure. I hate myself. I feel so conflicted. I wish the world was easy and I could just find out who I am. I plan out conversations that I might have with people so I can try to be less awkward around those people. I just don't really know what to do. I truthfully hope no one reads this, however I also want people to read this. I feel very nervous right now. I am conflicted whether or not to show or censor out all of these words. I don't think I've ever told anyone what is typed up here. I will probably end up not censoring these words. I hate the fact that I hope people will be impressed by this.

I hate that I want to impress people. I hate the fact that I feel the need to impress people. I hate it when people look at me weird. I hate how ignorant people are. I hate it even more when I am ignorant. What is wrong with me? Why did God put me on Earth? Ugh... I don't like me. Does anybody else analyse themselves like this? Is something wrong with me because I do? Is it sad that I find comfort that I characterise myself as insane so that i have a reason for who I am? Is it sad that I have all these thoughts in me?

Why do you care?

3:42 AM

You sit on your front porch, watching the street light across the street. It flickers once. It's 3:42 am and you just realised that even though your family loves you, the only thing you need is someone to care for, someone to love.
So you sit on your front porch, watching the light. You might smoke a cigarette or two, but you don't really need them. You watch the tree near the street light sway in the wind, scared of life.
You might have had a girl in your life once, but it soured and went wrong. It might have been your fault, but odds are that it wasn't. Odds are is that she dumped you, because being with you made her depressed. Then you realised that you just lost a great chance to change your life around.

So you sit outside your front porch. You watch the street light across the street. You might shed a tear or two, but this isn't a physical sadness that can be purged. This is a soul-crushing, black abyss kind of sadness. And you are scared and alone, all you want is someone to look at you and say: "Everything will be okay. Come with me"

Instead, you sit on your front porch. You watch the street light. And you die inside

Food for thought

If God is supposed to explain concepts like logic, causality and natural laws while at the same time being exempt from them himself, doesn't that make God an indirectly self-refuting idea?

This is a tribute to the nice guys

The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl's every facets, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style. This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they're at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don't end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.

This is for the time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all okay and she shouldn't worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you'd ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours to help her concoct a counter-rumor to spread about the floor. This is also for that time she didn't have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing 'serious' between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone "oh, but we're just friends!" And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyway. Because you're nice like that.

The nice guys don't often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don't seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can't. The only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as "oh, he's too nice to date" or "he would be a good boyfriend but he's not for me" or "he already puts up with so much from me. I couldn't possibly ask him out!" or the most frustrating of all "no,it would ruin our friendship" Yet they continue to lament on the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathise and apologise for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can't figure out where the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy) and what they do (I'm going to sleep with this complete ass now). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn't last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realise they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you're sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, insane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgment, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.


Does anyone know what a relationship is anymore? Everyone cries and cries and cries about how their boyfriend is too busy with parties to go to their big events or they neglect their needs or refuse to even just hang out... you think maybe you're with the wrong people? You ever wonder maybe the generic hot guy or asshole isn't really what you're looking for?
Your closest friends may even be genuinely in love with you. Those people that are always there, trying to make your life better! The one person that stands tall and supports you the most, always wants to chill and it never gets creepy or odd, and you share so much with... that person will always care more than some asshole druggy "hot guy"
I guess people need to wake the fuck up. You don't need anymore bullshit in your life to take you down. That person that brings you up all the time will never leave you. The whole 'friend zone' thing needs to end. If they're true friends they will never leave even if you do date. They'll be the people that can understand if things don't work out. People will never know what they are capable of until you give them a shot.
This isn't a post to say 'omfg date me please I'm desperate', I just want people to know that the people who really love you are closer than you think. The one person who can truly love you may be right next to you as you read this. You want to be happy with who you're with? Then take the chance and try it. I did once and it gave me the greatest memories of my life.
The good ones don't need to finish last. They're always the first person to go to if you need help, why make them the last chance for romance?

I am scared because I don't know what I'm feeling

It is anger and it is confusion and it is compassion in the purest form I can feel. It is elite and it is strong and it is the feeling of a guardian and it is the feeling of burden. It is selflessness and selfishness and jealousy, and it is possession. It is sadness, disappointment, and it is adortion, it is there and I know it is because I can just tell by looking at you...

The power to cause pain is the only power that matters

... The power to kill and destroy, because if you can't kill then you are always subject to those who can, and nothing and no one will ever save you.

I don't care anymore.

If I sit in my room all day doing nothing, there are no repercussions. For whom do I live? No one cares. No one depends on me. Nothing is worth it. There is nothing, only an emptiness that cannot be filled with video games and funny pictures, only masked by. And no one else seems to care, let alone notice my mental torment.

I want to die, but my life does not give me a reason to end it. The absence of a reason to end a life should never bring its demise. I feel like I want to break someone's heart, or get a terrible disease, or commit a violent crime just to have a motivation to tie the noose around my neck. But there is nothing... only a crushing depression brought about by my own admission.

I can't be that guy.

You deserve to be with somebody who makes you happy. Somebody who doesn't complicate your life. Somebody who won't hurt you. I'm sorry for all the times I kept you hanging and all the things I promised but won't be able to keep... and you know what? Thank you. Thank you because I loved you with a love so honest, unselfish and unconditional I never knew I was capable of it. But I'm sorry that it wasn't enough because you deserve much more.

Every fairytale has its ending and ours ends tonight. I know that everyone wants to be remembered for something, but I just want to be remembered by you.

I'm a fucking unicorn

I don't belong to a large or popular group, I'm not a nerd, I don't follow anything devotedly, and anime confuses me. I'm not a jock; I'm not good enough at any sports. I'm not massively intellectual; mainly have a strong sense of common sense that transfers over to some schoolwork. But, to those I know, I always have to be the cheerful guy, the one people tell their problems to. I have to remain the stable one that will always do what he can to help those around him, even if he knows they'll just ignore him later. I have my life sooo much better off because of my material possessions and my "happy family". I can't ever complain, or people call me spoiled or inconsiderate. I have my own problems. I have absolutely no personality. I base most things I do on what people around me do, and can never be the first to do anything. I rarely get invited to do anything, and I have only about 4 friends who like to spend time with me, and I don't like taking risks at all. I am incredibly lonely almost all of the time, have parents who think I'm completely fine and I end up spending most of my time playing video games, or on the computer to pass the time. The days blend into each other, just one more preset period of time before I can go to university and hopefully start a fresh, while still knowing in my heart that I am still going to be the same outcast I am now. And after all this, I still have to force myself up in the morning to walk outside and try to be the stoic one who can solve everyone's fucking problems because, after all, apparently I'm the fucking stable one.

Don't say another Goddamn word.

Up until now, I've been polite. If you say anything else- one word- I will kill myself. And when my tainted spirit finds its destination, I will topple the master of that dark place. And from my black throne I will lash together a machine of bore and blood, and fueled by my hatred for you, this fear engine will bore a hole between this one and that one. When it begins, you will hear the sound of children screaming-as though from a great distance. A smoking orb of nothing will grow above your bed, and from it will emerge a thousand starving crows. As I slip through the widening maw in my new form, you will catch only a glimpse of my radiance before you are incinerated. Then, as tears of bubbling pitch stream down my face, my dark work will begin... I will open one of my six mouths, and I will sing the song that ends the Earth.

We are going to die, and that makes us the lucky ones.

Most people are never going to die because they are never going to be born. The potential people who could have been here in my place but who will in fact never see the light of day outnumber the sand grains of Arabia. Certainly those unborn ghosts include greater poets than Keats, scientists greater than Newton. We know this because the set of possible people allowed by our DNA so massively exceeds the set of actual people. In the teeth of these stupefying odds it is you and I, in our ordinariness, that are here. We privileged few, who won the lottery of birth against all odds, how dare we whine at our inevitable return to that prior state from which the vast majority have never stirred.