Depressed. Wavering morale. Spirit-crisis comes striking like a sledgehammer at a very wrong moment. 

I find myself very much entangled with imbroglio in self-defining. 

Feeling depressed in assigning myself to the fact that,

repetition in the usage of certain impeccable potion will somehow vitiate its expedition in healing the wound. The wound has been immune to it already, since way back when, a time can't even i remember.

 stil got a long way to go.

somehow, i have to gird myself for all the oncoming rains, rocks and  pitfalls. 

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The shadows are drawing pretty close. The dismaying ones. Sometimes, you just simply couldn't find a reason to breath; you don't even have time for it! The avalanche of the pressure comes crumbling down, often causing  traumatically breathe-taking tragedies. But miraculously, the inveterate victim seems to have sifted an terrific outlet for it, albeit not to the realization of the victim itself.
Still watching the Nanny though the paucity of time is nibbling us. The subtleties of its action are moving closer to scarcity where it commences to be a gargantuan Glutton all of a sudden. Owing the power to the our fear and trepidation, it is poised to bring down anyone who has dropped his awareness.
Have had no shortage of epiphanies lately, which suggests the truism of the truth that normal people could not fathom. I feel really grateful for having this allegoric prerogative. It's ok if we should die with the reason as to why we should die and what we are dying for. But what if we die without knowing no more than a tinge about our seemly untimely death?
Think about it people.

Another thing that makes my day is the realization of the cutting-edge of that song that never fails to be more invigorating as it plays back to back.


Through the Rain 
Mariah Carey




When you get caught in the rain
With no where to run
When you're distraught and in pain without anyone
When you keep crying out to be saved

But nobody comes and you feel so far away
That you just can't find your way home
You can get there alone
It's okay, what you say is

I can make it through the rain, I can stand up once again on my own
And I know that I'm strong enough to mend
And every time I feel afraid I hold tighter to my faith
And I live one more day and I make it through the rain

And if you keep falling down, don't you dare give in
You will arise safe and sound, so keep pressing on steadfastly
And you'll find what you need to prevail
What you say is

I can make it through the rain, I can stand up once again on my own
And I know that I'm strong enough to mend
And every time I feel afraid I hold tighter to my faith
And I live one more day and I make it through the rain

And when the rain blows, as shadows grow close
Don't be afraid, there's nothing you can't face
And should they tell you, you'll never pull through
Don't hesitate, stand tall and say

I can make it through the rain, I can stand up once again on my own
And I know that I'm strong enough to mend
And every time I feel afraid I hold tighter to my faith
And I live one more day and I make it through the rain

I can make it through the rain
As I live once again
And I live one more day
I can make it through the rain
Yes you can
You gonna make it through the rain

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Selfishness. It has become a convention of human innate demeanor to embody the foregoing quality.

We, as normal persons, cannot be spared from its gnarled finger-grip and ugly convoluted tentacles. 

more often than not, it plagues us as with it comes a plurality of problematic troubles showering down out life. 

Literally, we are too obsessed in the state of things being rightfully US (literally us, not United States), and demarcating what are yours and what are mine. 

A baseline of ownership is drawn and polished meticulously so as not to offend anybody. 

However, the so-called attempt per se is pointless in the sense of promoting individuality and spelling the distancing between us. This just delineates the lack of closeness between those who supposedly are close together. 

Worse still, how many of us actually has settled down and had a deep thought about it, for even once? how many of us have drawn lessons from the strangeness-striking scenario that takes place from the two way interactions? Hardly, i would say, if not never.  

Don't be Selfish. Don't be selling-the-fish. Don't end up selling-the-fish.

Best,

Ernie

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Kind of spine-tingling at the knowledge of the presence of people starting to put attention on my blog, and anything i have left here. It's a subtle contrary as to how i feel about being under the surveillance of people around me - want to let the world knows who is this soul residing in the core of the wisp of a coward at one end, want to selfishly keep the subtleties of my life to myself at the other. Ya, this exacts who i am anyway. A little flapdoodle whose mind is seriously convoluted with confusion and imbroglio, an impeccable embodiment of powerlessness and lousiness.
Never mean to brag but, there are people coming up to me and say, how good, to a fault, my mastery of English language is. What follows, rather than invigorating gratification, is a mishmash of many things- a little bit of guilt, tinged with a fit of shame, loosely draped in a little bit of fear- as i know how not true it is. Fear of not being able to live up to the par, to the dubbed expectation, to the reputation. Snowed under the avalanche of pressure, much of which i have unknowingly imposed on myself, strangles me. For once, i could not breath. For once, when silence seems so loud, i cry out of fear. A fear i could not rid of. Muffled by tears, i just could not tell anybody about this.

It's examination stint again. Thanks a lot to my way-too-short-term memories, the inner agitation and anxiety are coming back to me, again, which have haunted me back in the days where i buried my head in the mountain of books, notes, frustrations, which is well-articulated with the confusion of what-if's, how-can-it-be's.
 
The strength that promise to pull me through all these seems there, but with no affirmation and assurance as to how long will it remain. It comes like a wind, leave like a breeze, often with my snort of disappointment.

It is now coming back to me.

Bless me.
Please.

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