an overdued post for the anniversary.

a facade in progress.

each day passes by, and the second hand keeps moving along the circular motion it is destined to take. it does not stop, until one day, the stored chemical energy supply in the man-made container depletes, and it becomes incapable to continue its reason for existence.

everything comes to an end.

a seed, a bud, a plant, and a rose, then as it blossoms into its glorious beauty, flaunting the magnificent red of nature, it also starts to wither, and returns to dust.

what is the original purpose of it since all revolves back to nowhere and what lies behind this cycle of live, and death.

the bible states that death is only the beginning, but who sees beyond that. faith is all we hold on to, but how far does this thing we called faith see us through?

maybe i am not so much of a devoted, and a loyal catholic.

i think about the end of my presence each day, and i wonder of the reasons why i lie here. me, being so small compared to the dimensions of this planet earth, this galaxy, is just too insignificant. how much of my voice do you hear when i attempt to scream my lungs out on the tip of the highest mountain. after the day which i descend back into the origins of the soil, what is left behind, and what continues?

two years have fallen behind, i was being left back there, mourning over the split milk, and wondering why you never called.

a shadow cast upon me, i see sombre grey clouds each day hovering above my head, with the thunderous lightning being the only source of light, which emanates my entire life periodically.

i pondered hard when the questions threw upon me when have i not moved on, and realized, the emotions of the heart, has died, and there was nothing to feel anymore.

maybe for this reason, i chose to be solitary, or perhaps, the pain was too excruciating, or petrifying to feel again. it is not an excuse, but i am just practically stating the undeceiving facts.

simple as it seems for others, but who knows, and exactly feel what i have in me.

will you hear me out, and not run away after learning the callous truth which hides behind this masquerade?

the lights on the streets continue to shine resplendently upon striking seven each day, the stock markets bust insanely at nine sharp. our lives are so crazily busy, we missed out so many small details in our paths of journey each day.

out there in the crowd, do you notice the "paltry" me, sitting there alone.

life today, is what we have made out of, ourselves.

superficiality, busyness, selfishness, anger, sadness and all, are the results of our mankind's hands.