Memoirs of a Memoir

Like a cup full of tears, my heart was sour. My limbs were languid; my head thudding, similar to icy hail stones pounding upon worn rooftops. My body ached, pleading for recovery, and yet that did not even portray the anguish in my heart. The pillow was drenched with grief; the bed sheets ruffled with agony, the setting of the light-deprived apartment had said it all. Why did I go? Why did I leave? And as these thoughts continued to dwindle in my depressed mind, I began to wonder if I was sane at all.

To my surprise, I saw another meaningless advertisement just outside, this time from a company named Memoirs. I saw my doctor just the night before, and he mentioned that insomnia is not a serious ailment. Today though, I am going to a support group to perhaps discover what real suffering is. The sky was grey, reflecting my gloomy mood whilst I listlessly strolled through the city square. Step by step, the jingle of Memoirs replayed in my mind, its rhythm synchronized with the walking pace. Several bystanders gawked at me, and some even had the guts to instruct me to get memory implants. Those bloody pricks, they’re all cactii, every single one of them. Yet, what they said rang true in my mind, I had nothing to lose.

The door senses my presence as I reluctantly enter into the colossal building, Memoirs. The room was eerily lit, the steel walls first to catch my sight. I took miniscule strides, constantly looking around at posters and the information brochures. The range of memory implants that could be received was vast. A man is walking up to me, he introduces himself as Fiegel. We sat down, and he could clearly see that I was nervous, just from reading my body language. I was shivering, still engulfed in melancholy. His explanation strived to comfort me; however, I was still unsure. What do I do? What was I supposed to do?

I woke up in my apartment. Walking outside towards the lift, the building suddenly shook violently and I was thrown towards the ground with great force. I don't know what went on afterwards, but I awoke, this time in Fiegel's apartment. He mentions that he found me unconscious on the ground, and demands that I owed him. To pay him back, he wanted me to hit him "as hard as possible". With sweat trickling down the sides of my head, I drew my arm back and swung. He had dodged my arm, and now his arm was approaching me. I caught his arm, and we parried. My legs wouldn’t stop shaking. My arms unwillingly trembled. If today was a bad dream, then my life had become a horrid nightmare. The high-pitched announcement echoed the hall as the fight moved on.

As time moved on and I got to know Fiegel more, I have come to realise that our bonds were tied by the mutual respect. I stormed out of Memoirs in a livid manner, knocking over anything in my reach. I glanced at the exterior of the infrastructure one last time, only to see an abhorrent reflection of myself. In fear, I shut my eyes, remembering the good times with him; the fights everyday that would escalate and then die out. Oodly enough, it was like heaven, until I opened my eyes. A malnourished figure appeared before me, with its hideous face characterized by protruding cheekbones, eye bags that sagged to its nose, and dehydrated lips. Its rib cage could easily be identified, and if it were not for the unkempt rags, people would have easily mistaken it as an anorexic caveman. To my disbelief, that was me. I barely recognized myself. My mind was in a fragile state, and the only thing that I could do, was to detest the company. Fiegel the appeared in front of me, and said: "This is me".

It was blizzard-like inside the room. The sun seemed to gleam everywhere else except my apartment. Severely distraught, I decided that it was time to face reality. Fiegel was me, except he wasn't me. Perhaps hypothetically, as I once struggled with the hatred for my job and my consumerist lifestyle, my mind began to form a new personality that was able to escape from the problems of his normal life.

The final straw came when he met Fiegel; Fiegel was truly born as a distinct personality when the narrator's unconscious desire for sleep clashed with his conscious hatred for himself. Having come to the surface, Fiegel's personality has been slowly taking over the narrator's mind, which he planned to take over completely by making the narrator's real personality more like his. The narrator's bouts of insomnia had actually been Fiegel's personality surfacing; Fiegel would be active whenever the narrator was "sleeping." This allowed Fiegel to manipulate the narrator into helping him create the "fights"; Fiegel learned recipes for creating explosives when he was in control and used this knowledge to blow up his own apartment.

It had finally come to my mind that I was my own hallucination, not Fiegel. Every cell in my body froze, as I turned to walk away. Time was passing so slowly that I could even hear the rapid heartbeats of my heart. I barged through the doors of Memoirs, bellowing in anger. Just what had gone wrong?

******************

At the waiting room of Memoirs:

Consultant 1: “Hey nice job on the confrontation conflict, I thought we had nearly lost him there.”

Memory Specialist: “Those losers always fall for the insane type.”

A black sheep walks into a baa....?

Currently I'm taking down some questions I really would like to know the answers of:

*Why isn't phonetic spelled the way it sounds?
*Why do we drive on parkways and park on driveways?
*How does the guy who drives the snowplow get to work in the mornings?
*Why are cigarettes sold in gas stations when smoking is prohibited there?
*What if there were no hypothetical situations?
*Why does your nose run and your feet smell?
*Why is it that if you tell a man that there are 400 billion stars, and he'll believe you. But if you tell him a bench has wet paint, he has to touch it?
*Why do fat chance and slim chance mean the same thing?
*If you're in a vehicle going the speed of light, what happens when you turn on the headlights?
*Can blind people see their dreams?
*If people can put up nude statues everywhere, then why can't we run around naked?
*Do sheep shrink when it rains?
*If your name as Anonymous, would you get credit for everything nobody wanted credit for?
*If feathers tickle people, do they tickle birds?
*If 7-11 is open 24 hours a day, why are there locks on the doors?
*Why are boxing rings square?
*How do "please keep off the grass" signs get there?
*What is a free gift? Aren't all gifts free?

*Am I getting smart with you? How would you know?

I want answers, and don't tell me the sky's the limit because there are already footprints on the moon. I guess you could take this seriuosly or not, depending on your mood. I'm mellow today.

My Thoughts

Nihilism, the philosohpical position that values do not exist but rather are falsely invented. Am I a nihilist? Perhaps so. Let us ponder on this as it is explored. Well the main value I have been living by is that men are only human. Now I don't know about angels, but it's fear that gives men wings. Psychological fear especially. Fear tactics, the pedophiliac smile; I've basically mastered both aspects of fear. I know that fear being fear itself, there was no glory in this. I hadn't asked for this crap. Trouble had come to me, in big dark swarms. The good and the just, they were like gold dust in this city. I have no illusions. I am not one of them. I am no hero. Just me. My options had decreased to a singular course. I perhaps have taken the path of a nihilist, yet I got lost on the road of life. I bring no happiness, just simple melancholy. Philosophically speaking, there probably isn't any meaning in life. Perhaps you can find something interesting to do while you are alive. Like how you found that flower. Like how you subscribed to my blog. It is as though I fight for my sake only and live to love no one but myself. I have no reason, but I have discovered that any soul needs a purpose to live... and so I concluded that my purpose was to anihilate everyone besides myself. But why do I keep myself alive? Why do I bother keeping myself afloat? I was once told that the reason why big brothers were born first was to protect the little ones from those who come after them. Why protect, when you can destroy? Never have I protected anybody, nor do I expect it from anyone. Hypothetically, yes, I am swaying more towards agnosticism. Agnosticism, for your information, is the philosophical view that the truth value of certain claims — particularly metaphysical claims regarding theology, afterlife or the existence of deities, spiritual beings, or even ultimate reality — is unknown or, depending on the form of agnosticism, inherently impossible to prove or disprove. It is often put forth as a middle ground between theism and atheism, although it is not a religious declaration in itself and the terms are not mutually exclusive. Some people live like an ivy vine, they can only live by clinging onto the trees supporting them, which is their flaw. Evidently they need to put down some roots so someday they can stand on their own. If only I could control time. I want to buy more sand for my hour glass. Too bad nobody sells any. I know a person who only know too well the price of everything, but the value of nothing. I would definitely like to go back to my dream last night. I was surrounded by people whom I knew well and whom I thought I knew well, but then they changed. They became ghost-like, and I knew the appetites of ghosts intimately. They hungered for revenge. It's basically like this; you piece together a jigsaw and the final picture is you finishing that same puzzle, a mad golden-eyed killer standing behind you. An urban legend come true. And then in my dream last night, I felt as though just when you thought you had reached the deepest depths of horror, it suddenly got worse. How to turn off that small voice inside your head that started to whisper that you should be glad... that now, if not before, your revenge was justifiable on any conceivable moral scale. That small voice proved, beyond any doubt, that I was damned. I adore my dream last night, lucky it wasn't a wet dream as I heard that you can get wet dreams if you are very cold; I tried desperately to get sick by means of hypothermia and failed epically. yet in return, I got an awesome dream, yet it ended, like it sort of faded from my mind and when I woke up it was 8:25 am. Holy fuck, that was why I rocked up just in time for assembly at school today.

Keep reading and subscribe if you like, guys. I'll try to blog when I'm bored (which is like 24/7)
Ensique, Josiah

The second Blog

Yes I realise that it's only been a short time since the first blog, but I feel as though there won't be as much ranting here as there was in the first post. so lets say, go back to music? I hate happiness; if I were to rip you chest open, what would I find there? Just a materialistic heart, and yet what is that? What is this "happiness"? Not everybody is happy, but everybody is either hated or hates someone else. It is the simple yet brutal way the world revolves; thus happiness is not enough to go through. That is why people remember the "good times", but it still isn't enough. Happiness doesn't solve anything, it is completely useless; in fact it takes your mind off everything. That is why it would be more practical to feel angry - after all, everyone feeds off anger and rage to keep them going. Happiness and Anger is like the sun and the moon, yet they still create eclipses. How do we explain that? It is quite simple, just like the fable of the monkey and the moon. However close the thinks he is to capturing the moon it's still just a reflection in the water. When he tries to capture the moon all he does is sink like a fool. Anger can be lickened to the moon in both cases, whilst Happiness is nothing but a mere reflection of anger. Just like in a simplistic game of chess. When you counter, you dont let them cut you. When you protect someone, you dont let them die. When you attack, you kill. There is no happiness, only the purpose to win. Thus I conclude that happiness is nothing. I have come to the point where I can't help but to fall. Fall behind. Fall beneath. I am falling, yet I do nothing. Despair is all that there is right now. They say that VCE is fair. Too fair. If they ever introduced VCE to adults in their workforce, it will be scrapped without question as it is too fair - it does justice to those work hard and are good at the VCE only. It won't tell if you are going to be a psychopath killing everybody. It won't tell you if you are going to succeed in anything at all. It is justice. Without a higher cause,justice is nothing more than a slaughter...But slaughter in the name of a higher cause is justice. That is why the VCE is too fair, as it is not what marks you get; it what marks you get relative to what other people get. It's basically saying to one: "Sure I'll give you an inch, but I'll take a mile." You may do well in your VCE, but scaling and competition will bring your Study Score down. Some call it unfair, yet it is simply too fair. Sorry guys if you disagree, but this is my sin. Get in my way and you will die.

The first post

I love taking worst-case scenarios... hehe... well it seems to me that I have more people I hate than I have friends... or on facebook at least? 326 friends, 387 pending friend requests. (some people whom i dislike add me but i did nothing to their friend adds). It is just this kind of shit in the world that we clearly don't need. Let's see how far we've come. hmm don't know where to start so I'll start with schools, as it is the simplest. Primary schools: attended 6 primary schools within a time period of 6 years; Secondary schools /High schools: 1 up to now (I'm in my final year) Sanity? I don't remember ever having such a thing? Well I guess in the earlier years I was super random, yet not so different now? Music tastes? Wasn't really into music during the primary years 'cause in singapore it was mostly asian songs. Yes, guys. Despite being Asian, I despise most Asian songs. So happy. So cheery. So fake. Life isn't happy and like any of those songs; you cannot possibly be telling me every morning is a great morning. For fuck's sake, I hate mornings. I realise I am ranting. This is my first blog. I should stop ranting and finish my first post, realizing that this isn't the most impressive of posts. I apologise guys.