Trapped in a picture, living inside the trappings of a frame, solid gold, wood, silver and bronze. Captured essences of this ephemeral world frozen into eterntiy. Someday people will see all our false smiles, false hopes, encapsulated memories and think "They are happy despite the times in which they lived." Once done, they would sigh and envy our simple uncluttered existence. However, once the oppressive shutter clicks shut, the glee slides away in a palpable way of muck and entrails. False pretenses fall away, leaving the bare, naked, filthy truth that life really is.

And here it is, outlined in all its ichor-stained damnation:

Nothing remains the same but for the consistency of death and the potency of the cup of life. This poison of living which each and every one partakes of is but a taste of what is to come in the damning abyss of hell.

A myriad of colours explode before my eyes, yet in all this life-giving visual attractiveness of quintessentially tiny things everything seems connected with death all the more. Beauty is wasted on rotting eyes and the fragmented brain that sits behind them.

Why do we stubbornly cling on to life? It's not as if it delivers all its promises. Promises are broken daily and so are hearts with the frequency of blinking eyes. No dream remains safe from the harsh clutches of reality that leads to being jaded.

We are jaded. The flame of passion and hope has long been turned to ashes. Our elders are more idealistic than the youth who see society in no way the elder generations have. We have access to all the information we could ever want, chock-full of inormation that we may or may not have the right to access. We have the same competitiveness of grown-ups. We do not, however, have the level-headedness or the innocence of the generations past.

We have lost our innocence at the same time that the grown-ups forced us into our books and out of the playground which cushion ouyr entry into the world. This mind-blowing excess numbs us to the reality of what we are reading, but still retains th meaning. We only see the hopelessness of the situation in a detached manner, content to criticize.

This has backfired, for, having finished with our books, we now turn our scrutinizing brains to the educators, the grown-ups and believe ourselves, truly and honestly, to be able to surpass them. In this scrutiny they falter and in observing thus, we lose hope in our society. We begin to forego the step of fiery idealism and head straight to disillusionment.

It just saves damn time.

"pull the pins,
save your grace,
mark these words,
on his grave"
-themarsvolta

Desperate desolation, that descibes my depression. It is the wasteland which made up my mind a few months ago. I'd be hurt at the littlest things, overeacting in my self-reflection. These thoughts which consumed me, as I read them from my writings, although cynical, overly maudlin and irrational, are true.

I cite an example: There is only one thing in the world that guaranties death, life itself. Snake bites, stab wounds, poisons and dire situations may come to mind, but there is always hope. Whether in medecine, other people or just good genes, none of these over the fatality rate of life. Everybody who drinks from the cup of life dies.

Gaiman's character, death, says that life and death are just two sides of the same coin. Same in their contradictory nature. I beg to differ. Thy are not two sides of the same coin, they are one. One serves as the beginning, and the other serves as an end. They cannot be flipped at will, like a coin can. Neither can you keep one side facing up like you can do to a coin. Life inevitably leads to death, the end of eerything (unless your religion states otherwise).

There is no past. There is no future. This moment is all there is, eternity in a second. One cannot traverse he highways of time as countless people have imagined, for there is no highway, only a point which spreads into eternity. In geometric terms, a point is undefined, for one cannot determine it's breadth and depth.

Current events:
I got my grades in math high enough to merit a C+, getting me into the honor list. I'll be climbing the stage to get my 3rd honors for the first term. My grades in math this term appear high enough, so I'm hoping to get the 2nd honor.

ACET weeknd, which I fondly refer to as "Ah-shet" weekend, was a nerve-wracking one. It wasn't because the qestions were hard, well, except for the abstract and logical reasoning parts, it was actually the opposite, the questions were easy. It was the time limit which made it hard. I mean, twenty-five items in five minutes!!! My average is twenty items per minute during these types of tests, so I had to go overdrive just to finish my tests. I finished most of them except for the abstract and logical reasoning (which shows I don't have a reasonable bone in my body).

Jared's party is this weekend. I'm actually looking forward to it. It'll offer me a chance to cut loose, drink some alcohol, socialize and, well, have some good, clean fun...

TD is getting on my nerves. I mean, my kids can't even give examples of verbs in the simple present tense, past tense and future tense using proper grammar... Jeez, now I know how Dijamco must've felt.

I watched Dodgeball and the Exorcist: the beginning last monday. Forget Dodgeball, it was a disappontment, offerring very few in the way of laughs, I expected more from Ben Stiller. The Exorcist is a great, great movie. It offerred a lot of scary scenes, rarely using the "oops, who closed the door" technique and other cheesy horror techniques. The Exorcist offers scares in the form of exceedingly unsettling violence in some scenes an the artistic use of blood.

Anyway, tomorrow's a half day and I have to make some palancas...

Song of the entry: Perfection Through Silence by Finch

"Perfection Through Silence"

Alone at last
together in a photograph.
Our eyes are always open
devoted to perfection through silence.
What am I supposed to do?
Should I sit wait for you?
Listen to me screaming more.
This story is old
only to those that have no mold.
The truth can be bought or sold.
But what are we buying?
Nothing but silence.
What am I supposed to do?
Should I sit wait for you?
Listen to me screaming more.
Fold the corners,break the silence,
fold the corners just for tonight...
What am I supposed to do?
Should I sit wait for you?
Listen to me screaming more.

I finally learned my lesson. Money DOES make the world go 'round. It hurts. It DOES.

Here I am, this pessimistic kid who thinks that if I give up myself, I can save others. But no, it just doesn't work that way. To help others you need MONEY. MONEY PEOPLE!!! You need to help YOURSELF to help others. I just don't get the logic. And damn my messianic complex, I do have it, even if it's covered up by all my depression and attempts at indiferrence.

It's so fucking wierd. I never imagined myself to actually WANT to help others. I even ridicule those people who fervently believe in "serve God, serve others" bullshit. Buyt I fell into the same mold and it continually frustrates me. I try not to give a damn, but I DO! And I halved the motto. It's just serve others.

In grade school, I actually thought it easier to love Gpd than love others, now I find the opposite extremely and horribly true.

I hate this cycle.

Our class is going on a 3-day silent retreat on July 2-4. I'd appreciate it greatly if you'd make me palancas. Mail em to kyreii_erik@yahoo.com

Or you could come to ateneo.