not sure if anybody reads this anymore but if you want you can find me at jwonggg.tumblr.com
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
White Cloud
Lonely white cloud in a sky of blue
Where will you be when the light comes through?
Up in the sky or down in the drain?
Twisting and turning or maybe just rain.
Give me a signal or maybe a sign
Something to tell me that you will be fine.
Where will you be when the light comes through?
Up in the sky or down in the drain?
Twisting and turning or maybe just rain.
Give me a signal or maybe a sign
Something to tell me that you will be fine.
Wednesday, August 04, 2010
away
Give me your hand
I'll take you away
We'll roll in the sand
and lay in the hay
Forget all the pain
escape all the grey
We'll dance in the rain
and swim in the bay
Ignore all the fear
just play it by ear
Live life to the fullest
And you'll be the greatest
Tuesday, August 03, 2010
live a little
there's nothing like the feel of fibre glass and graphite against the glassy water.
the spray of the sea, the salt in your mouth.
the sun in the sky, the heat on your back.
live a little.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
roll another
If flowers didn't wilt
and all gold was silt
I'd be some place other
away from this bother
I'd live on a mountain
or down by the sea
and sing to the night
or talk to the breeze
It'd be oh so lovely
If only it'd be
that flowers didn't wilt
and all gold was silt
Sunday, February 14, 2010
valentines day
rulers have risen where kings have once fallen,
cities have glistened where wars once made orphans.
the glory of spring and the warm summer glow,
the light autumn breeze and the blistering snow,
all follow a pattern, they dance with a rhyme,
to help us remember the passing of time.
no matter how we try, nor how long we wait,
no science can predict, nor math formulate.
though millions have tried, they never quite capture,
this bubbly feeling, incredible rapture,
when i see your eyes, how they smiled and sighed,
when you hold me close, when you're by my side.
so look at the date, it's fourteen-oh-two
i'd just like to say that yes, i love you.
happy valentines day everyone (:
Monday, February 08, 2010
untitled
the darkness never descends,
the light simply fades away.
the truth comes out,
and there isn't much to say.
some kinds of trust can't be built,
it just needs to be decided.
but at the end of the day,
the darkness never descends,
the light simply fades away.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
good morning
Rays of sunlight crept through the tall curtains,
casting a warm brown light into the room.
The light crawled along the mahogany floor,
transforming the room into a sepia-toned picture of peace.
Specks of dust floated about lazily,
basking in the glorious warmth of the light.
The ruffle of the blanket momentarily disturbed the quaint silence
as he turned to escape the sun in his eyes.
It was a fiery red beneath the eyelids,
signaling the dawn of a new day.
Friday, July 10, 2009
life happens
the forest of efil sat in a quivering silence,
leaves lay strewn on the floor, pondering the days when they were green and full of life.
an army of ants marched on by the little trickling stream, frighteningly close to the water's edge but never falling in.
all of a sudden the forest of efil was ablaze
the fire crackled through the air,
but the trees didn't burn.
the ground was scorched,
but it didn't blacken.
a terrifying wind screamed through the air,
but the leaves didn't rustle.
and then all was silent again.
nobody quite understood what had just happened,
but the forest of efil still remained.
Monday, April 27, 2009
tick tock
He slumped in against the cold leather interior, mumbled his destination and returned to his thoughts.
Trusting that the driver knew the way, he allowed the sights and sounds to meld into the blackness of his skull and all at once, it was dark and silent.
Consciousness slipped through his coarse fingers as his hands slumped to the side in utter exhaustion.
He slept for an eternity, but as vision returned for a fleeting second he saw that he remained at the same traffic light.
The drone of the engine, the drearily monotonous sound of engineered steel bore holes through his skull, once again allowing consciousness to seep away.
Sleep stroked it's silky fingers through his shadowy hair, gently raking it's nails over his cold scalp.
He dreamt dreams he would never recall, thought thoughts which he could never retell.
Yet when he awoke with a jerk to the blare of a horn, though mountains he'd scoured and dragons he'd slain, it was only mere meters he'd travelled that day.
Thursday, April 02, 2009
the person in the glass
He trudged up the eternity of steps and let his bag slip from his shoulder as he passed the doorway.
The coldness of the wood felt good beneath his aching feet as he stood a moment in the darkness.
Flicking on the lights, he walked in step with his thudding heartbeat toward the washroom,
carefully picking his way over the messy floor.
The room listened as his heartbeat slowed to a steady beat,
the slow thudding echoed off the walls like the distant beating of war drums.
The lights burned to life, illuminating the dark corners in the stuffy bathroom.
He hung his head over the porcelain white basin and splashed cool water onto his tired face,
closing his eyes as he felt the droplets roll off his skin.
As the last drop slipped off his cheek he looked up into the mirror.
Melancholy only stops short in the face of surprise.
He stared long and hard into the eyes which looked back at him.
It wasn't him.
Well it was, but it wasn't.
It was the perfect reflection like the laws of physics imply,
and yet, he did not recognize the eyes which bore right back into his soul.
Friday, March 06, 2009
Mad Mraz
It's been a while since I've heard music that penetrates straight to your soul.
Standing twenty feet away, eyes closed and swaying to the beat.
Feeling every vibration with every fiber.
Truly amazing stuff.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
continues.
I find that life has gotten to a point where I’ve come to realise that I know nothing.
All the years and years of growing and learning and imagining the wisdom level increasing has amounted to a huge sense of loss. I find that the more you learn, the more you realise you do not know. Now that school life is over and life has hit what i would call a flash of abeyance in which my worldy-life-o-meter hits a standstill while i wait for the next rush of life to smash me in my noggin, these past two months have become mediums for many many hours of thinking and retrospect. About the day, past week, months, years. And perhaps the greatest irony that life offers each and every one of us is that instead of reaching that much closer to which we sorely desire, as the time goes by, the question which plagued me at the beginning, appears farther out of reach; who am I ?
Occasionally while having chats of some depth with friends late into the night, or perhaps while I am writing, I say or write something which catches me off guard. As if i were reading or hearing another person speak. It’s a funny thing to try to explain.. it’s like learning from myself, yet i have no idea where these very very brief flashes of wisdom or other arrive from. Which leads me to question, just how well do I know myself? It feels like I have a wealth of knowledge stored up somewhere in the darkest recesses of my mind which I simply am unable to tap.
Girls. I once believed I had nearly figured them out. But now I realise that it is impossible to truly understand anybody gender regardless if we do not first truly understand ourselves. In one of my moments, I came out with a phrase which went something along the lines of “We can never truly love anyone entirely until we truly understand our own entirety.” But now perhaps I realise that we might never begin to truly understand anybody until we understand ourselves simply because every point, must have a reference point. If we, the reference point, do not know wherein which we lie, we will never discover the subsequent or any other point.
I digress.
I lie here in bed feeling utterly confused, and yet I think this state of confusion provides much more clarity than many people achieve. Simply because most people do not realise the state of their confusion. I find that it has to be stumbled upon rather than found. It is only stumbled upon perhaps after an ever so intricately weaved series of events perhaps over a week, month, years even that finally makes you wake up in the middle of the night and say to yourself “who the fuck am i?”
and yet perhaps the most troubling thing ever is the fear that i might never truly discover who i am. the fear that i might wake up tomorrow and forget this state of confusion or worse yet, brush it off as tired ramblings, and entirely deviate from disentangling what could be life’s greatest mysteries. Pardon the thick cliche of the statements but perhaps the very foundations of social life and mankind as we know it may tremble when people begin to ponder if OURSELVES may be life’s greatest mysteries, and not LOVE.
It’s all about context and reference points. Without the context, without a reference point. How do we know anything. What do we know? If we change the context of our lives or shift a reference point, everything as we know it will crumble to nothing. Forget money and power and cars and private jets. WE will crumble to nothing.
This could very well be the ramblings of a very lonely 18 year old hoping that somebody would read this and notice him, or maybe I could be on to something.
Perhaps it is only in these moments of abeyance where the hustle and bustle and business of life glitters in the edges of our memories that we begin to question our very existence. Who decided that life should be in which we wake up, work, earn money, make valiant attempt after attempt at relationships, sleep and repeat. And even those of us who try to cut our own path, or CHOOSE TO BE DIFFERENT, differ in very similar fashion. It is perhaps as if we are truly confined in a box and even when we try to be different, we create new boxes for ourselves..
Who decides who’s “intelligent” and who’s “stupid” There are 7 forms of known intelligence (and that’s according to THEM) but education systems only base results on ONE. Obviously if i was the guy who wrote the IQ test i’d fit it nicely so I felt good about myself. Why do we take them so seriously anyway? Maybe the answer is simple and elementary, the answer is perhaps seen in kindergarten schoolyards across the world daily: nobody wants to be picked last in gym class. nobody REALLY wants to be the weird kid, the different kid, the OTHER type…
Which again forces the question; who first decided the stereotype?
Who am I? I would not nearly dare to pose the question, who are you?
All the years and years of growing and learning and imagining the wisdom level increasing has amounted to a huge sense of loss. I find that the more you learn, the more you realise you do not know. Now that school life is over and life has hit what i would call a flash of abeyance in which my worldy-life-o-meter hits a standstill while i wait for the next rush of life to smash me in my noggin, these past two months have become mediums for many many hours of thinking and retrospect. About the day, past week, months, years. And perhaps the greatest irony that life offers each and every one of us is that instead of reaching that much closer to which we sorely desire, as the time goes by, the question which plagued me at the beginning, appears farther out of reach; who am I ?
Occasionally while having chats of some depth with friends late into the night, or perhaps while I am writing, I say or write something which catches me off guard. As if i were reading or hearing another person speak. It’s a funny thing to try to explain.. it’s like learning from myself, yet i have no idea where these very very brief flashes of wisdom or other arrive from. Which leads me to question, just how well do I know myself? It feels like I have a wealth of knowledge stored up somewhere in the darkest recesses of my mind which I simply am unable to tap.
Girls. I once believed I had nearly figured them out. But now I realise that it is impossible to truly understand anybody gender regardless if we do not first truly understand ourselves. In one of my moments, I came out with a phrase which went something along the lines of “We can never truly love anyone entirely until we truly understand our own entirety.” But now perhaps I realise that we might never begin to truly understand anybody until we understand ourselves simply because every point, must have a reference point. If we, the reference point, do not know wherein which we lie, we will never discover the subsequent or any other point.
I digress.
I lie here in bed feeling utterly confused, and yet I think this state of confusion provides much more clarity than many people achieve. Simply because most people do not realise the state of their confusion. I find that it has to be stumbled upon rather than found. It is only stumbled upon perhaps after an ever so intricately weaved series of events perhaps over a week, month, years even that finally makes you wake up in the middle of the night and say to yourself “who the fuck am i?”
and yet perhaps the most troubling thing ever is the fear that i might never truly discover who i am. the fear that i might wake up tomorrow and forget this state of confusion or worse yet, brush it off as tired ramblings, and entirely deviate from disentangling what could be life’s greatest mysteries. Pardon the thick cliche of the statements but perhaps the very foundations of social life and mankind as we know it may tremble when people begin to ponder if OURSELVES may be life’s greatest mysteries, and not LOVE.
It’s all about context and reference points. Without the context, without a reference point. How do we know anything. What do we know? If we change the context of our lives or shift a reference point, everything as we know it will crumble to nothing. Forget money and power and cars and private jets. WE will crumble to nothing.
This could very well be the ramblings of a very lonely 18 year old hoping that somebody would read this and notice him, or maybe I could be on to something.
Perhaps it is only in these moments of abeyance where the hustle and bustle and business of life glitters in the edges of our memories that we begin to question our very existence. Who decided that life should be in which we wake up, work, earn money, make valiant attempt after attempt at relationships, sleep and repeat. And even those of us who try to cut our own path, or CHOOSE TO BE DIFFERENT, differ in very similar fashion. It is perhaps as if we are truly confined in a box and even when we try to be different, we create new boxes for ourselves..
Who decides who’s “intelligent” and who’s “stupid” There are 7 forms of known intelligence (and that’s according to THEM) but education systems only base results on ONE. Obviously if i was the guy who wrote the IQ test i’d fit it nicely so I felt good about myself. Why do we take them so seriously anyway? Maybe the answer is simple and elementary, the answer is perhaps seen in kindergarten schoolyards across the world daily: nobody wants to be picked last in gym class. nobody REALLY wants to be the weird kid, the different kid, the OTHER type…
Which again forces the question; who first decided the stereotype?
Who am I? I would not nearly dare to pose the question, who are you?
Thursday, January 01, 2009
Start of a New Chapter
The carefully written words reached the end of the papyrus paper and the author let out a soft sigh.
He had written many words, he had written tears, laughter, hurt, scars, growth, treacherous pitfalls and love.
It had been a good chapter, as a chapter should be.
A long, hard, painful and learning chapter.
He gathered them tenderly in his smooth hands and propped them up onto the mahogany table to align them.
It was a large stack of paper, each flimsy sheet carefully bound within the leather casing, adding to the historic 17 earlier chapters.
Then he reached for the new pieces of paper, untainted and waiting for the ink.
Perhaps these would hold a better story.
He had written many words, he had written tears, laughter, hurt, scars, growth, treacherous pitfalls and love.
It had been a good chapter, as a chapter should be.
A long, hard, painful and learning chapter.
He gathered them tenderly in his smooth hands and propped them up onto the mahogany table to align them.
It was a large stack of paper, each flimsy sheet carefully bound within the leather casing, adding to the historic 17 earlier chapters.
Then he reached for the new pieces of paper, untainted and waiting for the ink.
Perhaps these would hold a better story.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Like A Guitar Solo
Life is like a guitar solo,
Encompassing all of your deepest emotions.
Its beauty is from the love and the passion.
Sometimes it's fast,
fingers slice through the air in practiced precision,
hammering hard and pulling off gently.
And then it slows down.. to nearly a stop,
notes in harmony walking hand in hand along the woody floor,
they mould and meld as they slide and they sliver,
two at a time save three and four or seven and eight.
Sharp piercing screams and low soothing whispers,
emotions fly high and tears start to trickle.
It only takes practice to play like a maestro.
Encompassing all of your deepest emotions.
Its beauty is from the love and the passion.
Sometimes it's fast,
fingers slice through the air in practiced precision,
hammering hard and pulling off gently.
And then it slows down.. to nearly a stop,
notes in harmony walking hand in hand along the woody floor,
they mould and meld as they slide and they sliver,
two at a time save three and four or seven and eight.
Sharp piercing screams and low soothing whispers,
emotions fly high and tears start to trickle.
It only takes practice to play like a maestro.
Friday, November 14, 2008
the passing of time
Twelve drops slipped through fingers
Leaving memories in their wake
Each drop never lingers
Not long enough to blow the cake
Life and Love will always flow
No nothing could ever conquer
We wish and whine but always grow
No matter what the cancer
I've soared like angels in a spiral
Left the rails and swallowed gravel
To you who scorn and swear or struggle
If but one i've learnt through all this strife
Fill life with love and love with life
Leaving memories in their wake
Each drop never lingers
Not long enough to blow the cake
Life and Love will always flow
No nothing could ever conquer
We wish and whine but always grow
No matter what the cancer
I've soared like angels in a spiral
Left the rails and swallowed gravel
To you who scorn and swear or struggle
If but one i've learnt through all this strife
Fill life with love and love with life
Friday, October 17, 2008
Another Year
Another twelve have come to past
Some too slow and others too fast
Strings once new now twang and rust
Music that soothed now curse and cuss
Pain from love has settled in
Love from pain still wears a grin
Colours blur as I sit and write
Words once lies now come to light
A tree that once stood tall and strong
Roots now plagued with hurt and wrong
Truths scar deeply but still they fight
On to save the tree of right
Some too slow and others too fast
Strings once new now twang and rust
Music that soothed now curse and cuss
Pain from love has settled in
Love from pain still wears a grin
Colours blur as I sit and write
Words once lies now come to light
A tree that once stood tall and strong
Roots now plagued with hurt and wrong
Truths scar deeply but still they fight
On to save the tree of right
Saturday, September 06, 2008
Trading love for tea and sympathy
Before me lie pieces once clayed
shattered from jars carefully constructed
Before me lie cloth now frayed
gashed from tapestries beautifully crafted
Jars of clay moulded
by hand to one day sit upon the altar
Uncountable threads folded
with patience and never a thought of falter
Bits of clay and the dust of faded thread
does no justice to the glory it once beheld
A little boy once thought he owned castles forged from fire and steel
One day the ocean proved they were only grains of sand
shattered from jars carefully constructed
Before me lie cloth now frayed
gashed from tapestries beautifully crafted
Jars of clay moulded
by hand to one day sit upon the altar
Uncountable threads folded
with patience and never a thought of falter
Bits of clay and the dust of faded thread
does no justice to the glory it once beheld
A little boy once thought he owned castles forged from fire and steel
One day the ocean proved they were only grains of sand
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
trading love
you smiled in tired satisfaction as i lay there taking in the world for the first time,
laughed gently as i padded around the floor with rice grains stuck to my face.
you closed the blinds on the evening sun as we curled into bed for the night,
and read us stories when sleep just wouldn't come.
you were always worried about us, always caring, always loving.
then one day you destroyed everything i thought was true.
i tried to deny it, but the facts fit like a glove.
my only question is, was his worth your children's love?
laughed gently as i padded around the floor with rice grains stuck to my face.
you closed the blinds on the evening sun as we curled into bed for the night,
and read us stories when sleep just wouldn't come.
you were always worried about us, always caring, always loving.
then one day you destroyed everything i thought was true.
i tried to deny it, but the facts fit like a glove.
my only question is, was his worth your children's love?
Sunday, July 27, 2008
the lost pages
a forgotten chapter
slipped off the face of the world
kept under lock and key
left for none and all to see
too precious to be fed to fire
but too scarred to be brought to light
it lies in wait and debris
only one name to solve the mystery
cursed by whispers to deafness
thoughts too deep to bury
years go by and still they lie in decayed longevity
never to escape this tranquility
slipped off the face of the world
kept under lock and key
left for none and all to see
too precious to be fed to fire
but too scarred to be brought to light
it lies in wait and debris
only one name to solve the mystery
cursed by whispers to deafness
thoughts too deep to bury
years go by and still they lie in decayed longevity
never to escape this tranquility
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