Archive for the 'Literature' Category

durrrrrr~

Published
by
kianbung
on November 10, 2008
in Literature
. 17 Comments

Wow. I’ve been here for almost 3 years.

Sitting here, and reading my old posts - especially this super-jiwang one, is awesome.

“So close, yet so far. The distance between us a cruel mockery.” That’s one line that became stuff of legends (in my social circle, at least). For the record, the original copy was composed on my old-ass phone. That was how dedicated I was. =D

Well, I implore that you look into the Literature category if you wish to read more jiwang stuff I made all over the years. Yesh, they are mostly lame and stuff - but hell, I am a uni student living a highschool life. What do you expect.

Legend…waitforit…daryyyy!

Published
by
kianbung
on October 22, 2008
in Literature
. 2 Comments

This. For Sale. Amazon. ’nuff said.

[sauce]

Inverse Writing Skill/Complexity Law

Published
by
kianbung
on October 7, 2008
in Literature
. 10 Comments

Inverse Writing Skill/Complexity Law

The Inverse Writing Skill/Complexity Law, also known as the Thesaurus-Essays Law (or TEL for short) states that the number of bombastic words used in any form of writing (especially academic essays) is inversely proportional to the writing skill and the language proficiency of the author.

Continue reading ‘Inverse Writing Skill/Complexity Law’

Reading Log…

Published
by
kianbung
on November 15, 2006
in Literature
. 0 Comments

Yawn. Went out with Kroll and Scott to do the reading logs. I was supposed to be writing something for my reading log, but it ended up being something completely different. It’s hard to do work when you’re outside the house… And distracted by stray thoughts.

Haih. Just read and see for yourself what I had written… (Page 1, Page 2)

Aww… Sweet, isn’t it? (Barber 2006)

Out of My League (?)

Published
by
kianbung
on November 11, 2006
in Literature
. 0 Comments

Please, do forgive me for turning emo all of the sudden. I do blame the sedative effects of alcohol. But yeah, let me indulge in my despair for a while and post this little poem I have written after listening to Stephen Speaks’s Out of My League.

Infatuated III

She’s a thief.
Through the countless times I sat and stared,
admiring her unrivalled beauty,
without a warning,
like a kunoichi, she had stolen my heart.

I have no idea when it happened.
Was it the cafeteria?
Was it the hallways?
Was it the bus stop?

Regardless - she had captured me.
Killer was no longer fly.
Fishball, curang, PS…
Curry puff, puppies and even MV…
They seem trivial in comparison.

My chinkie talents lie in planning.
I can effortlessly plan millions of scenarios.
Every single possiblity I can think of.
Except for one - myself.

Frozen and stunned,
like Ichigo in Kenpachi’s killzone,
like Harold in the elevator.
Unable to speak.
Unable to act.

Perfectly planned scenarios turned sour.
Timing goes off,
my eyes met hers for a moment,
terkena SKL.

Shattered was my illusions.
The illusions of the perfect romance,
like Suffle, like Love Hina,
like Kakyuusei, like Haruhi.

Stumbled and grasping for a second chance.
I want to believe in continues.
Sat and drowned in stout.
Suffocated my lungs with Kent.
Induced myself into a state of philosophical self-narration.

Battlefields of the future are now trivial.
Drifting in Carbon is now a waste of time.
Initial D is now a honest waste of money.

I want change. I want improvement.
I was complacent with my life,
now I want more.

Isn’t it strange?
How a moment of dispair can affect one?
How it can change a person’s outlook on life?
How it can make one desire more from oneself?

Sitting here, slowly becoming sober.
Listening to Out of My League.
I have decided.
She is NOT out of my league.

I will not let it end this way. 

Well, that’s it for today. I shall now go to sleep and wallow in my self-helplessness. ^_^

Infatuated

Published
by
kianbung
on July 4, 2006
in Literature
. 0 Comments

I thought I should revive this old poem I wrote while high on Max Payne 2 when I was in Form 4. It’s just a random whim of mine to revive it, that’s all - hell, the poem even had a picture to go with it (albeit a badly drawn one), so it’s gotta rock.

Infatuated

Time is relative to the observer.
Given the right circumstances -
One could live an entire lifetime within a split second.

Oh, sure... No context. My ass.

Time froze the moment our eyes met.
Everything else melted from the plane of existence.
We were all that existed - all that mattered.
At that moment - I plunged into the abyss,
long past the point of no return.
That was it - I was captivated.

Her lips parted to hail the advent of an angelic voice.
A simple greeting to one could steal the heart of another.
As her eyes broke away - something within me died.
A dagger of despair plunged into my heart with every step she took.
I had unknowingly grasped a gift and a curse.
Living in Heaven within Hell - Hell within Heaven,
But my trembling hands wouldn’t let it go no matter how it burned -
I was infatuated.

Written by me on 22nd May 2004 - 09:34. Just so you know, it was during a physics class in Form 4. Don’t remember what Mr Ang was going about then though. Doesn’t really matter anyway.

Inspiration Regained

Published
by
kianbung
on May 15, 2006
in Literature
. 1 Comment

Abandoned me have my poetic senses,
I had feared that they have gone forever.
However, there is such thing as Ban Kai -
the sudden gain of immense power in a short amount of time.

That which I lost, I regained.
My inspiration reincarnated.
Passion coats the blade of inspiration,
stabbing straight into my heart -
fueling my heart, my blood with the emotion.

A mere glance, the table across.
Sitting there, surrounded.
So close, yet so far.
The distance a cruel mockery.

My heart raced.
That mere glance was the key.
It found what I had lost.
Unlocked what I had hidden.
Unleashed what I had surpressed.
That emotion, that passion.
That which was there a long time ago.
That which died out a long time ago.
Finally revived. Reincarnated.
Once again, I was infatuated.

There I was, content.
Content with merely the sight.
The mere sight of her being.
“Go for it”, a friend says.
The body willing, the spirit weak.
I couldn’t, I wouldn’t.
I was shackled down by fear.
Fear of rejection.
Fear of disillusionment.
My confidence sapped.
I was pathetic.

Minutes passed.
She raised, and left.
With every single step they fade.
The passion.
The inspiration.
My reason for presence.

I now await my Vizzado Mask.

 

Written by me after inspiration from sitting at Al Fresco after a shot of Blue Lagoon and some mineral water.