Thursday morning. The first rays of light announcing the coming of dawn pierced the dark of night, shooing it away like a mother would an animal that’s frightened her child. I struggled to get up as the alarm rang hazardously loud for the fourth time. I don't recall hitting snooze once. I reached over to grab my phone, and was greeted by the juxtaposed cold of the metallic casing not embracing the warmth of a bed like I had. It was already 10:25 in the morning, and the once subtle greeting of the morning sun had developed into blinding lights and scorching temperatures that would threaten even the mighty desert nomads of the Sahara. After performing my morning ritual of compiling a list of things to do in my head and optimum methods of completing them, I hopped out of bed to begin my day.

Shopping was definitely the most arduous task, not for the hours spent going to various stores to purchase the things I needed, and on rare occasions- wanted, but it was the interaction with others that proved most strenuous. I definitely am not a social butterfly. I’m more along the lines of social train-wreck. I don’t like people, and they don’t like me—but regardless, I would have to interact with them to move things along quicker. And I value efficiency. The thing is, along the footpath required to get to store B from store A, there lie the most interesting of people. On an ordinary day, I would walk past countless beggars and homeless, and the occasional busker. I’d stare into their eyes as I casually ignored their pleas. But today was different. Today, I experienced something I would never forget.

I turned the corner of George Street, past the commotion of carefree shoppers eager to throw away their hard earned money on commodities they didn’t really need- things designed for the lazy man of the modern age. Fucking kindles come to mind. I only had to buy one more Christmas present- for my nephew, and I could finally go home. Concerned for my schedule, I checked my phone. 1:32 PM. I slid it back into my pocket, but when I looked up…

The street was awfully empty; I had never expected to see the city in its slumber before, especially not during peak hour. A few stragglers could be seen meandering about the end of the street, but other than that, the street seemed… desolate, dark, cold… In a panic, I backtracked, fearing that I had lost my way before realising that there was absolutely no way I could have gotten lost. I was on George Street a second ago. Suddenly the sights and sounds of the bustling city of Sydney came alive again, relieving my anxiety and giving me an opportunity to assess what had just happened. I loitered on the street for a moment, leaning against the wall—to my immediate right, the corner. Two steps away.

Inhaling frequently and thoroughly, I consciously took two steps to the right, and braced myself, cocking my head cautiously. Normal. It was completely and utterly normal. The birds tweeted as they glide through the sky, humans doing the same- twittering away, their phone in hand, dangerously taking long strides forward with their face down and masses of shopping bags flailing as they bump into one another. I navigated the footpath with grace, trying to see how far I could walk before bumping into somebody—I’m sure we all do this. I made it 42 steps before embarrassingly bumping shoulders with a beautiful blonde whose blue eyes shone with the tenacity of grand oceans, her cream-coloured hair billowing in the wind so majestically it appeared to be in slow motion. I quickly put away my phone, but not before checking the time. 4:19 PM. 

I was at a loss for words, but hers I remember as clear as day.

“May I have a moment of your time?”

I nodded nervously, feeling as if I had broken into a cold sweat. I wanted this exchange to go well. If I pay attention to her, maybe make a few jokes here and there, she may agree to go on a date with me. Chicks dig funny guys. I was sure of it. “Sure”

In a voice so polite, she hesitantly looked into my eyes, but spoke only two words.
“Thank you”

I was leaving for home by the time I was able to fully recall what had happened just a brief moment ago. It was getting dark, and as I approached a red light, I checked my phone, fearful that I had wasted my entire day shopping. 6:10 PM.

It had only been 2 hours, but I felt much older. And then it hit me.

“May I have a moment of your time?”…

What keeps me up at night

I'm not sure how much longer I can go on like this. I can't help but feel cheated; life is an extremely rare privilege, I know... but why me and why now? Why can't I have been born thousands of years into the future? It fucking frustrates me to know this is it.
This. Is. It. 
We have one life, and this is it. Right here, right now. All of this and a few dozen more years is all we will ever experience before becoming nothing more than mere particles to be spread across earth, returning to its rightful place in the universe. I would be so fucking content with life if I were just another person who lived to start a family and be happy with being in love, but no...
I'm too fucking curious.
I stay up most nights and sit outside my room, staring at the stars, well aware they are not what they appear; distant planets, galaxies, nebula's... all exploding and emitting the light we see, millions and some, billions of years ago, only reaching our eyes at that very night, and I can't help but weep silently, having to live with the fact that I will never experience the wonders of the galactic realm. I will never experience the magnificence of setting foot upon another planet, or even live to see the human race colonise a habitable one.
I'll never live to interact with other intelligent life forms from distant planets. Instead... it's just us here on this dull planet with our lack of knowledge and understanding of the intricacies of the universe. I want to know more. I want to see more. I don't want to die yet... not yet. It's not fair...

Pent up frustration

We met, we were like soul mates; seemed like we were meant to be, a way that's one in harmony. But it all went wrong, and I don't know why. Not a word or tear, you just disappeared... What was going through your mind? I wish I knew.

I should've kissed you

I dropped you off just a little after midnight...
sat in my car until you turned off your porch light.
I should've kissed you...

Some nights

She stops my bones from wondering just who I am; some nights I wish that this all would end, cause I could use some friends for a change. And some nights, I'm scared you'll forget me again. So is this it? I sold my soul for this? Washed my hands of that for this?

The other night, you wouldn't believe the dream I just had about you and me. I called you up, but we both agreed it's for the best that you didn't listen. For it's best we get our distance...

This is war

So what are we waiting for?

Why don't we break the rules already?

I'm wide awake

I feel tired, and the cold is taking its toll on me, but I can't sleep. I'm wide awake. Through the emerging of the sun and its descent, I'm wide awake. I want to sleep, and I know I need it, but I simply can't bring myself to lay in bed and close my eyes; I don't want to see you. I need to accept that you're gone from this world and move on, but I can't... especially when it's my fault you're not here anymore. The anniversary of your death is coming up, but I don't know if I can pick myself up to visit your grave again. Why should I subject myself to the hollow smiles and deathly stares of them. They still haven't forgiven me. It's your fault. It's always been your fault. If death had taken me instead, I wouldn't have to go through this every year. I'm tired of it. Around this time every year, I dream of you.
It's 4:25am. Your cold body in my bloody arms, staring at me with those bloodshot eyes... Your last words echo through time, reaching me even to this day.  
"Don't give up on life just because things get hard"
... The last thing you said before you faded away. The deafening cries begin to fade as well, and now there's nothing but the sound of the sirens. They took you away and put you into that ambulance truck, and I never saw you again... at least not until the wake. Everything happened so fast. They never caught those guys, but I still remember their faces as clear as day. Now everyone looks at me with anger, remorse... we all regret what happened that day. I just wish you'd stop haunting me. I want to move on, but you keep visiting me in my dreams and showing me what happened that night. "Why? Why do you keep forcing me to relive your fucking death" I would yell, waking up covered in sweat and gasping for air. It's 4:26am. I'm wide awake. I hate this time of year.

United we stand, divided we fall

All you ever hear about in this country is our differences-- that's all the media and the politicians are ever talking about: the things that separates us. Things that make us different from one another. That's the way the ruling class operates in any society-- they try to divide the rest of the people. They keep the lower and the middle classes fighting with each other so that they, the rich, can run off with all the fucking money. Fairly simple thing. Happens to work.  

If you know anything different, that's what they're going to talk about: race, religion, ethnic and national background, jobs, income, education, social status, sexuality... anything they can do to keep us fighting with each other so that they can keep going to the bank.


We're so good now. We're happy now. But you still bring up the past whenever you can, torturing me by constantly reminding of the things I said, did... and didn't do. I've made a lot of bad decisions, but I can't rewrite the past. Every flashback makes me hate myself a little bit more, and It's dragging me away from reality. The memories keep me up at night. It's slowly killing me...
You might subconsciously want to burden me with the pain you felt, so let me tell you now: It's working. And it hurts. It hurts to know that the best I can do is try to create a beautiful future for you... with you, knowing full well you'll never forgive or forget the past.

Judicial system

Just a little philosophical session because why not? My posts have kinda derailed into the whole ranting about my feelings deal, and to be honest, though it helps me release pent up emotions, I don't particularly want (nor do I enjoy) this type of content on the internet. So like I mentioned at the start, I’m going to get philosophical in this post because I want people to think really hard about the topic of crime. I tried getting you guys to think about the idea of eternal nothingness after death, but only a few people managed to fathom (and comprehend) the idea that similar to pre-birth, those billions of years of nothingness before you came into existence, our death will inevitably come and we will experience that nothingness for all eternity; that is, (rationally) assuming there is no potential for ‘life after death’.

I want to start off by asking you, the reader, what defines a crime? Take a moment to think about this. What is crime? Surely the simplest and most common answer would be an act of breaking the law, but then we’re required to ask many more questions. Why are these laws in place? Who makes these laws? Why do laws constantly change; why is it that the nature of these laws and crimes, and what we consider to be criminal constantly change? And why is what is considered a crime in some places considered acceptable in others?

These are the kind of questions that challenge humanity and society.

If you want to break it down to the most comprehensible level, you can rationalise that any individual’s actions that harm members of society, negatively affect said society or impact on the functioning of society can be deemed as a crime. When you think about it at this level, it’s the ideal definition. The way we constitute a crime is by looking at an individual’s action and intention. You’ll get that a lot: act and intent. What was the intention of that action? Why did they do that? It’s very simple to comprehend that every action has an intention (with a small exception of those mentally ill and therefore unaware of the action and/or intention), but this is challenged when we think about victimless crimes.

If we look at victimless crimes, the action and intention are still there, and I’ll provide an example. Marijuana users—they don’t hurt anybody, and most people know there are no short term side effects on the consumption of marijuana (though I don’t encourage it, I’m not exactly condoning it). It’s even prescribed by doctors in some cases; but otherwise it’s illegal. Only because it’s a drug that alters our state of mind—it affects our psychological state. You’ll find that most drugs that affect our psychological wellbeing are illegal. It’s against the law. It’s a crime. But it’s a victimless crime; but nevertheless, it is a crime. And then there is alcohol. Alcohol is not illegal, though it may as well be, seeing as the effects of alcohol and alcohol abuse is much more devastating than marijuana use, or abuse for that matter. Think about how many times you’ve heard of cases where a husband has just gone home from a night of intense drinking and decides to beat the shit out of his wife and kids. Do you think a stoner would come home from a night of smoking pot and beat up his wife? Probably not (mainly because stoners don’t even leave their homes or have wives for that matter; but this is a hypothetical scenario, damnit!). But obviously it’s a dumb idea to place a prohibition on alcohol; remember how well that worked out?

So is it really a crime to smoke marijuana? The judicial system says yes, but if you think about it, there’s no real harm.
Is it a crime to drink alcohol? No. But the number of alcohol related violence is staggeringly, astronomically higher than marijuana related violence. I don’t think such a thing even exists.

Crime is a funny thing, and not to say that criminal activity is one to be taken lightly, but the fact that some acts are classified as criminal and some are perfectly legal when they ought not to be, is quite amusing to me. Humans are weird. That’s all I have to say about the topic.

To conclude, I want you think about this. Why is it that certain crimes have less weighing in some societies than in others? When we look at religion, they’ve never had a problem with killing. In fact, some religions promoted it! (You know which religions I’m talking about…) Yet they’ve had to amend those sections in their ‘holy books’ to fit societies evolving standards of what we consider righteous and what we consider barbaric. But if the law is constantly changing, and what we considered legal and acceptable just 500 years ago (the sanction and encouraging of conviction (it was really just slaughter, crucifixions and burning of supposed ‘witches’; and keep in mind over 60,000 were killed) is now completely insane; do you think something we consider legal today will be illegal tomorrow? (not literally 24 hours later, of course)

Geographic locations

I notice that these days, when people speak, location seems important to them—it’s one location in particular: ‘there’. They say such things as ‘don’t go there’, ‘been there, done that’, and ‘you were never there for me’. They don’t say much about ‘here’. If they do mention ‘here’, they usually say ‘I’m outta here’, which is really an indirect way of saying ‘there’, because if they’re out of ‘here’ then they must be going ‘there’, even though they were specifically warned not to. It seems to me that ‘here’ and ‘there’ present an important problem because when you get right down to it, those are the only two places we have… which of course is really neither ‘here’ nor ‘there’.

SO… lets first talk about ‘don’t go there’. As we all know, painfully by now, when you mention something someone thinks you shouldn’t go into any further, they say ‘don’t go there’. What they fail to realise of course is that technically, by the time they told you not to go there, it’s too late. You’re already there. Because you already mentioned what it is they are uncomfortable with. At a time like that, what they should be saying is ‘don’t stay there’, or at the very least ‘please hurry back’… sort of like ‘wish you were here’. The only time I would tell somebody ‘don’t go there’ is if they told me they were planning a trip to Iraq.

By the way, when one of those TV news men on MSNBC recently tried to get his co-anchor lady to react to some juicy celebrity rumour, she said to him ‘I am so not going there’, and I thought to myself ‘why am I allowing someone like this to bring me the news?’.

Another phrase I don’t care for is ‘been there, done that’. I personally am not so cocky. I prefer the modest approach. Instead of ‘been there, done that’, I would usually say ‘been nearby, done something similar’. And by the way, most people don’t seem to know the full expression. I heard Drew Barrymore say it on the Tonight show: ‘been there, done that, got the t-shirt’. It’s a little smarter, and hasn’t been overused yet. Staying with this subject of location, when someone is ending a long term relationship, quite often they’d tell the other party ‘you were never there for me’. Again, what they may be forgetting that possibly some time in the past, they had told that very same person ‘don’t go there’. So how can they blame the person for not being there, when they themselves issued specific instructions not to go there In the first place? It seems unfair.

Additionally, many people who are ending relationships use another bothersome phrase: ‘moving on’. They’ll say ‘I found Steven in bed with a carnival worker and they were doing unpleasant things to a chipmunk, so I’m moving on’. And I think to myself, it actually sounds more like Steven is the one who’s moving on. Occasionally I get impatient with these people. When they tell me they’re moving on, I look at my watch and say ‘well isn’t it about time you got started? No sense standing around here talking to me when you could be out there moving on’. I don’t know. I guess it works out... cause when I run into the same person a few months later, they usually say ‘I’m in a whole different place now.’


She didn't show up last night; I don't know why and I'm not going to find out. As much as it breaks my heart, I have to let her go like she let me go... it's time to face the fact that friendship ends... even the ones that have endured for 16 years.

I will always love her, and if she asked me if we could be friends again I'd say yes in a heartbeat. But until then...


Over the years, I’ve noticed a few things about the sexes and I’d like to discuss them—men and women; the big, hairy noisy male creatures and the smaller, smoother but nonetheless also quite noisy female creatures. Here’s all you need to know about men and women.

Women are crazy. Men are stupid.

And the main reason women are crazy is that men are stupid. It’s not the only reason, but it’s a big one. And by the way, if you don’t think men are stupid, check the newspaper. 99% of all the truly horrifying shit going on in this world was initiated, established, perpetrated and enabled or continued by men. And that includes the ‘wave’ and the ‘high-five’—two of history’s truly low points. But as I say, besides knowing that men are stupid, it’s also important to remember that women are crazy, and if you don’t think women are crazy… ask a man. That’s the one thing men aren’t stupid about. They know for sure, way down in their heart, that women are straight out fucking nuts. But it doesn’t just happen, it isn’t an accident; women have good reason to be nuts. The main one being that in the course of life, compared with men, they have far more to put up with—they bear greater burdens. Think of it this way: In the big cosmic cafeteria, as human beings move down the chow line of life, and reach that section where the shit is being spooned out, women are being given several extra portions.

Now please understand my motives here are not selfish or personal. I’m not saying all this stuff to get in good with women, though the occasional blowjob would be nice. But it’s not a requirement; it’s optional! BJO! Blow job optional!

Now, I just think it should be evident to any person who’s being honest and thinking clearly that women carry a lot more of life’s baggage than men. To begin with, they’re smaller and weaker so they get slapped, punched, raped, abused and in general get the shit beat out of them on a rather regular basis—by men of course—who are stronger. If women were stronger, this wouldn’t be happening! Men would not raise a hand to women if they thought the balance was more equal—they’d back down quickly. Then again, if women were stronger, they probably would be beating the shit out of men just for the fun of it. It’s only fair.

Here’s another physical treat for females—PERIODS! Cramping, bloating and bleeding five days a month—15% of the time! And you can add the time spent with premenstrual syndrome—PMS. Men gave it that name. If women had named it, it would be called ‘my-several-days-of-shrieking-and-crying-and-depression-just-before-my-several-days-of-bleeding-cramping-and-bloating’. Men don’t quite see it from that angle. Men experience PMS as a problem for them!

Here are some more special female advantages, in case you haven’t had enough. Pap smears, mammograms, hysterectomies, mastectomies, miscarriages, abortions, labour pains, episiotomies, stretch marks and breast feeding. And postpartum depression! Can’t imagine why she wouldn’t feel good /sarcasm. And just to top it all off: MENOPAUSE—More strange behaviour and exciting physical sensations… and in exchange for all of this abuse from nature, what is a woman’s payoff? Why, she’s allowed to get on the lifeboat first! At least theoretically. How often do you think that really happens? Oh and let’s not forget many men are quite willing to hold the door open for her. In fact, some men are quite impressed with their willingness to do this—they brag about it.

I’ll tell you what a bad deal women got. They’re in the majority on this planet and they still wound up with the shitty end of the stick. That’s how big a hosing they got. Oh, and one other inequity I neglected to mention… very unequal, but this one works in women’s favour: they live longer than men. And remember this happens in spite of all the shit they have to put up with. So who do you think is tougher— Men or women? Why don’t you guess? And don’t forget, women have this huge added burden of having to put up with men.


Lack of posts

Sorry for the lack of new posts; my sisters wedding is coming up and I'm kind of busy helping out with that, as well as feeling nervous about seeing her [Everybody Lies post] again. I'm doing that silly thing where you visualise every hypothetical scenario imaginable, and then plan your responses and actions in accordance to the events; the worst case scenario, (If I don't get what I want-- her), I'll just tell her how happy I am that she seems to be happier without me. At least then I won't sound so selfish to her.. or maybe deep down I'm hoping she'll take me back out of pity.

5 days...

I have a post scheduled to be posted on the 20th (reason being I'm still working on it). Thanks for being patient with me, everybody.


I've been getting a lot of messages from people about the post under this one: "Everybody lies" cause apparently nobody could understand the subtle humor/irony in the post, so let me break it down.

In the first paragraph I write that I didn't want to express my feelings over my blog, but I do so throughout the post. The title is "Everybody lies". I thought it'd be obvious what I was trying to do. It's also trying to convey that I can't keep my feelings bottled inside anymore, hence why I said I was "broken". The content itself is all true, though I can't objectively say I didn't over exaggerate or underplay the events. So yes, I like playing around with my posts and adding in subtle forms of humor; personally I see nothing wrong with it, and if someone manages to pick up on it and gets a good laugh out of the irony, great, I'm a happy guy.

I don't mean to sound condescending or anything... I just don't want to get any more messages about it. I have something to get off my chest right now as well, so you can expect a new post by tonight

Everybody lies

I've written and deleted the content of this post over twenty times now. I can't find the right words to convey how I feel about this topic and what I'm trying to tell you guys. My original post was slightly over 2000 words, but proofreading it only showed me how incredibly lost I was whilst writing it. I rambled on from one topic to the other without structure or a set idea in mind. I kept writing until I felt satisfied about letting out all my bottled up emotions, but the last thing I want to do is put it up on the web.

After a lot of thought, the title 'Everybody lies' seemed most suitable for this post. This is how I feel:

I feel broken. My childhood friend-- my best friend... no, former best friend, left me about a year and a half ago. It's actually hard to pinpoint exactly when because we've always had an on and off type of friendship since I was never exactly the most thoughtful and selfless person in the world. I did a lot of things I regret, but I don't understand why we stopped talking over something so stupid. Perhaps it's my fault for not trying hard enough to get her back, but when she told me she was through, I took it to heart, and I tried my best to accept it. She was too good for me anyway. She was amazing. An excellent artist, highly intelligent, funny as hell... oh and she was very beautiful. Meanwhile there was me-- bland. There's nothing I can say to describe my personality in a positive light. I'm narcissistic and apathetic, emotionally detached from the world and as so many have put it "heartless".

I knew her since birth. I have very fond memories of our time as children, how we were so carefree and didn't fully grasp the idea of friendship and its importance. There were also a lot of bad memories, but when I try to think back to those exact memories, all I see is a giant blur. I've despised and denied my past for so long that I've completely erased it from my memories. All I know now is that I was an outcast as a child; I was overweight, and kids didn't want to play with me as much as they did with her. I was left out of a lot of activities not only because I wasn't accepted, but because I was also physically incapable of having a normal childhood. I spent most of my time on the computer or playing video games because the real world was so cruel. I established friendships with people online and faked everything about myself for fear that if they knew who they were really talking to, they too would leave me.

I've grown up a lot since then. I didn't turn out the way I wanted to, but I've lied to myself for so long that I've accepted these lies as reality. I tell myself that the reason why people don't want to be friends with me is because they know I won't make time for them, but really, I think I'm too mysterious for their liking; the fact that I don't open up to them is suspicious. I'm hiding who I am and what I've become because I'm lonely enough as it is. If you go back to my earlier post in January (I think it's my third), I say that I really only have 4 friends who genuinely want to hang out with me. Now I have none. Except now it's different. Now I don't care. I don't want friends because with friendship comes trust, and with trust comes lies. And lies end up with someone getting hurt.

I don't want to hurt anymore. It's a very cliche thing to say, but after I lost my friendship with her, I started to drift away from everybody. I figured if somebody who cheered me at my best and comforted me at my worst; somebody who knew everything about me... couldn't even stand the sight of me anymore, there would be no more light at the end of the tunnel.

To this day I tell myself the reason she left me was because of that one incident where we made plans, but I forgot I already had to do something, so I told her "next time", and when my plans for that day were cancelled, I figured I'd take it as a day off to just relax, but when I told her, she wouldn't have it. I had betrayed her.
I tell myself that this is the reason she left me, but I know she's too good of a person to leave for such a simple reason. There's so much more to it, and though I haven't spoken to her in a long time, I will see her again in 18 days.

I just hope she still thinks about me as much as I've thought about her, because I'm terrified of closing this chapter of my life for good. As much as I want closure, I'd still like to lie to myself into believing that the reason for her departure was not entirely on me-- that she had some issues of her own. And hypothetically speaking, if she tells me it isn't completely my fault, I still might not believe it... Everybody lies.

But as long as she's with me, I'm willing to lie to myself for the rest of my life.