Life sucks.

then again life is gone. so precious. wasted dead decayed revolting. so here's a song.
the pixies
Hey
Been trying to meet you
Hey
Must be a devil between us
Or whores in my head
Whores at my door
Whores in my bed
But hey
Where
Have you
Been if you go I will surely die
Were chained

Uh said the man to the lady
Uh said the lady to the man she adored
And the whores like a choir
Go uh all night
And mary aint you tired of this
Uh
Is
The
Sound
That the mother makes when the baby breaks
Were chained

Day Zero

And so the exams have ended. Just like that, silently, on the morning of the twentieth of november. Much unlike the way they arrived, with a huge bang, cacophoniously disrupting life and like a good guest, arriving so amply supplied with the gift of chaos. Yet it left egragiously this morning, like a thief in the night. In a mere thirty minutes, it was over.

In its wake, a new freedom arose. Three years worth of heavy shackles, chains and bondage fell off my shoulders. In response, my shoulders rejoiced of course. Yet, this new weightlessness is an unwelcomed feeling. The shackles and chains of before were not dead weights, but wheels, they provided meaning and purpose. Twelve hours into the aftermath, the lack of meaning and purpose in my life now has become as clear as crystal. I'm confident enough to say, that if this was a well read website, I'd recieve hatemail for following blasphemous statement. I want to go back to school so I can learn more. I want to study post-A levels.

Well, who'd thought unemployment would be so boring. Boredom, you are one of my greatest nemesis and one of the most powerful. Your powers of lethargy and depressive and negativity are strong enough to make the sun fall out of the sky. If only I knew your one weakness, the krytonite that will end all your terror. If only.

Again why?

Why did you put me here. Why did you send me to this place, with these people, with these systems? Why? Why this situation, why this time, why is everything shrouded? Why must I continually walk this path through smoke and mirrors? Why is everything so twisted and convoluted and unclear? Why must you keep breaking me and making me fall. Why can't you grant me wings to soar? Instead you plant me heavily on the ground, and a put a mountain of darkness in my path. Why must have this mind and be adlered by impulsivity and carelessness? Why do you make my life so difficult?

Yet, to ask you these questions, to question your reasoning, to doubt your plans are actions of nothing more than folly. Your logic is pure, your reasons can only end in goodness for you are love and your plan is divine. You do things in your time. And you gave me freedom. How can I blame you for putting me in this place? I chose it. I chose out of all the eighteen or more possible choices. How can I slander your name for the path that I have picked out? I want this job and this is the only path and I knew it would be crooked and twisted and bent, clouded in fog, mirrors reflecting all manner of nonexistent paths. Yet, it was not you who told me to step foot upon its shadowy trail. I did.

I'm lost now. The labryinth of life stands before me, with portals opening and closing before my eyes. I can't help but think that somehow behind all my choices lies your ever guiding hand. Then why, why does it have to be this way, all wrought with pain and suffering? How much longer will I have to drag this cross before I can reach the trodden beaten path once again? They say to follow your plan and do your will is supposed to bring peace and contentment. I have yet to find either. And I have the gall to question your power and your existence. How much further can I sink in degradation? For you who created all, the everlasting creator, there is nothing that you cannot do. You have blown the smallest wind and toppled this giant many times. I am here by your choice, yet it is my choice. Your hand is in everything, and yet everything works on its own accord. And how can you not exist? If you were not to exist to me, then what would I have? I would be nothing. In my heart, I know you to be true, to say, to think to rationalize that you cannot exist is mere pretense. Then, life in and off itself will be a lie. I cannot fathom how these people who believe in their hearts that you cannot be true can make it true the day. To lie and lie and lie until they live the lie.

It occured to me when I was lashing out at you in pain, of the extent of your love. All over the world at any point in time, there are people lashing out at you in anger, in pain, in suffering, in confusion, people who question your abilities, and people who doubt your existence. Yet, in spite of all the hurt and pain they cause you, you a being of pure love, you take all in without grudge or retaliation. It must pain you to watch the suffering, knowing you change it all in the smallest fraction of a microsecond and still, you withhold that power. Instead you touch your children in the most subtle ways. You know that the pain and the suffering and the disbelief are neccessary to grow strong and resilient so that we may come home one day.

Yet, we are weak and we are foolish and we fail. I am weak and I am foolish. That is why I question and retort and doubt. I want to know why. Why do you have to make me feel so helpless, crumpled and useless. So vulnerable, in knowing that no matter what I do or how much it, I can have no control of my life. You are the one who does. It was what I said before the paper, 'it is in your hands now'. I wonder if I truly meant it. Now I can't let go, I know now that whatever comes out of this chapter, it is really in your hands. Whatever grade I will get, is no longer up to me, but is up to you. I only pray that by your grace, it will be good and it will be what I wanted, what I worked so hard for. I am selfish, I know you have and plan and still I want what I want and I cannot help it. If it is not what I want, then I beg that you give me understanding and patience and acceptance so that I may understand your plan and let you guide me. Whatever I have, whatever I will recieve is of your doing and not mine.

I hope that this path I have choosen is the path that you want me to walk down. If not, I hope that I will be able to accept that. Help me to trust in you completely.

The words have been there all along, you printed them on my jersery. Matt 19:23

why?

we fell out of the sky one night,
and you just sat there and cried,
and cried and cried and cried,
you knew that we'd never be alright.

and so the red tears dribbled down
from those beautiful brown eyes,
and driped down down onto your dress,
as you looked up at the dream bound

and tied. you can't go back now,
its too high in the deep blue sky
but you tried and fell and died.
i wished i saved you. but how?

everything lies and taunts the skies,
and the maggots that eat you
remove all the little ties,
put you deep in the ground, no more tries.

From the sky you fell, now you dwell
in the ground, with much patience lie,
hidden in plain sight, masked delight.
Justice has toppled, deep into hell,

and her scales no longer balance
the good from the bad, no more,
no more, she is very bored.
she thrusts her sword, like lance

deep into her heart and breathes no more.
make way for the cold winter of May,
when January no long prays,
and October hides in silent shame, the whore.

As I watch you in the casket,
like a doll, fast a sleep, there's
no one to play with anymore.
you twist and turn to forget

those things that in the past wrought
with much regret, and put it all
away in your pocket, justa ball.
are these all that you thought?

the rain echoes my silence wait,
pouring crimson down from heaven,
and there's here left to learn,
just your forgotten face, i am too late.

I wonder why i followed you out
of sky, only to watch you die?
How did i lose my heart to a lie?
separated by classroom doubt,

by a shiny silver window,
that reflected cruel truth,
like the wolf and its tooth.
I'd shatter it and see you widowed

but you had already died.

i wonder why you were going
down a senseless path of ghosts.
i wished we could have shared toast,
and talked a little more, hearts trembling.

the trembling was your fear,
and nothing more from the monster
that stood calmly on the barrister,
staring out into nothing, no leer,

no glance. then you jump!
and fell down, out of the sky.
crying, crying, crying, crying,
into your box, in one big lump,

you maggot infested memory.
rest in peace.

We cry out so loud that no one can hear us.

Yesterday, I wrote up a plan for a GP essay where the topic of discussion was the possibility for 'harmnony in a diverse world'. I wrote up a brillant plan, so full of hope and ideas, put through logical process, proved by the idea of induction. If it is possible for Mother Nature in her complexities and chaos to display some form of harmony.

Through Le Chateliar's principle, the laws of nature work to equilibriate any effect or stimulus that happens in the natural world. If the population of Lions rise, the population of gazelle will fall, then the population of Lions will rise again. If the temperature of a habitat rises by so many degrees, the inhabitats best suited to survive will thrive and the unselected will die.

By that assumption, the far more intricate society of Man too can be harmonious. Unfortunately, I tried to argue that it would actually be possible in this time, that it to an extent is already in natural harmony. That Le Chateliar's was already working. To an extent it is, but it is working the simple way nature's equilibrium is in place. Cold, unforgiving and mechanical. Society is already like that. And its harmony lacks the one criteria that establishes harmony. It is unappealing.

However, this was not the harmony I had envisioned. I saw one wherein the world's peoples worked together to turn all evil into good. I saw a world where the flaws that followed original sin were removed. I saw the people at the highest status of affluence giving back to those in the lowest levels of poverty. I saw a world like the one now, with all its flaws like poverty, but one where there was love and care. Everyone considered the other, everyone cared and everyone loved. Love, that was it.

I saw heaven.

I saw the ideality that could not happen, at least not in this realm or in this time, not without intervention from above. I saw this, and I tried to foolishly contrust a real possibility. No, not just a possbility, but a reality. In that reality I lost my humanity.

I wanted to force a cube into a circular slot, and I joined the ranks of idealist before me. Do not get me wrong, Heaven exists, infact Heaven exists here on Earth too, just in tiny pockets all over the world, where there is love. I am more appalled at my ability to lose my humanity, in search ideality, by becoming so far removed into a macro perspective, that logically the processes, the systems, the patterns, they do work, albeit from high above. Yet inasmuch as it worked above, I failed to look below.

I forgot that God sees all, he not only looks from above upon us with his light. He is with us now, here before us all, in the spaces of time, in the every wrong and every place and every plane. He exists. And God, God is impossible to understand by humans, his ways, his means, his reasons, they are his own. From time to time, he will give a few specially selected few a sliver of understanding. However, it is impossible to understand or know him until we meet him.

This is something I've understood since secondary school. So why? Why did I try to play God, why do I try so hard to be perfect, to get perfect scores, to strive to be the best, and in the end I fail. I will fail. I am not perfect. I feel helpless and empty that I cannot understand and I cannot act.

I guess I will have to trust him.

As my energies are burning out on the advent of the examinations. I know I cannot do anything but push and stumble forward and rest upon his shoulders, while he walks for me, leaving his footprints in the sand. And I'll have to find my empathy. I think I left under my pile of books.

Life fades.

I am stuck in a system. A most heinous system, one that ticks uniformly like a clock. I am stuck here like a square piece being pushed through a circular hole, my entire life is on hold. And as I wait, I watch the other people go through other doors, fitting so perfectly and walking around out side. Why do they get to fly?

It shouldn't bother me, I'm stuck. Just stuck here. I can't go anywhere, or do anything and time doesn't permit me to back track. Though the system has a mean ticker going tick tock tick tock. Counting down days till the doors shut. I don't have much time life I reckon, 17 days or 50 days, what does it matter? I'll still be stuck.

It perplexes me so, why You should let me be stuck here all alone? I can't find it out some days. I know You let me come here. I know I need to be here to do the things to get to the place that I need to be. Yet why now, why here, why this place? Why did you let all my friends go away? Why does it have to be this way?

Somedays I wreck my brains and try to figure out why. Sometimes its just so hard to take. I wish I could just do what You say, I wish I wouldn't get angry and question and stray. After all, I cannot know all, no matter how much I try, even with all the books in the world, what You know I won't ever find. Yet, its difficult, so hard sometimes to push on, to do things your way. I fail and fall and topple, lapse and relapse, and fail some more. I think the worst part is when I wonder if you're even there.

Sometimes its difficult, and I feel so dry inside. I wish I wouldn't, because it doesn't seem right. But You always know. You have planned everything so nicely haven't You? I just hope that I will follow Your way. This I pray.

A Warning

I think I dreamt of you again last night,
Morning rose, and you disappeared again.
(Nightmares haunt me still wroth with bloody scythes.)

You looked so pretty like the northern lights,
But fate said 'no' and let the darkness in:
I think I dreamt of you again last night.

And in your eyes I became the black knight;
Fanged monsters and Belphagor, had I much akin.
(Nightmares haunt me still wroth with bloody scythes.)

You clawed my heart and pierced it with no spite--
Scared you were of this monster that you've slain.
I think I dreamt of you again last night,

Amidst dripping skulls and carrion plagued night,
Where they buried me to sleep, still insane.
(Nightmares haunt me still wroth with bloody scythes.)

Prescient Fate spins her wheel with great delight,
Laughing at all enthralled in her sordid chain.
I think I dreamt of you again last night.
(Nightmares haunt me still wroth with bloody scythes.)

Carelessness.

Carelessness is the bane of my existance. I am now running the final stretch of this race. This crucial segment that will bring about the end of a chapter of my life. And yet, carelessness seems to plague my every footstep. He was there with during my papers with his parents: poor time-management and stress. Such a pity that he must plague me so, and what a great disease he is. He has cost me many grades. The rotten little red crosses that form like a tumor

Yet, wonderfully, there is a cure. That cure is practice. However, practice is the most bitter of all medicines, the kind you need to three glasses of water to remove its horrid aftertaste. The type requiring long hours for the entire dosage to be delivere, long hours, everyday. And the effect is slow, every slow. The doctor says a constant administration of it is required to cure carelessness. Furthermore, the dosage can only begin in small amounts and gradually increase. Too much too early will cause negative side effects. Too little will have no significant gains. The worst thing about this medicine is that even a small break from treatment will require the patient to return to the first stage of it.

I have taken too long a break from treatment, and i feel weak and frustrated. Everyday my work output is a laughable fraction of what it was just a month ago. Even more frustrated about the limbs amputated because of it. The loss of chemistry and mmathematics and biology. The doctors say that they can be regrown, but it will take time. I wonder if I have that time? Will I be able to return and best my previous work out put? Will I be able to do it in enough time. I wonder.

The doctors told me there will be more testing, rigorous testing. It begins in six and half weeks. Not many days left, they are so few. I pray for a miracle, for God's divine intervention that he will graze me with his finger and remove this cancer from my viens. I pray for a miracle that he will jumpstart my fire and let the treatment work. I pray for a miracle that I will pass these tests.

There is only one chance. My heart beats faster just thinking about it. A singular flashing taught, a consequence, a nightmare in a second. Yet I know the future is undecidded, unknown save to one and full of possibilities. I know now is the present, now is current, malleable by the choices i make. I try everyday to live here and now and focus on what needs to be done. I know I need to live now to get to tomorrow. I wonder if I am doing enough.

Everything is so slow now. I feel frustrated. I want to go faster, fast, but I can't. I'm trapped, ensared by a monster I have to beat. I guess I can only pray.

We interrupt this program to bring this exciting broadcast!

On the run from the devious and terrifying Ministry of Education, our hero, David and his most logical assistant, The Invisible Man!, and in search of the perfect burger and chocolate milkshake, this half-visible dynamic duo bring to you the results of their ever ongoing endeavor!

*whack!*

First on their try out list was Relish, a daunty little cafe near serene center that provides delicious mouth watering burgers!

They served up a glass as long as the legs of a certain little giant girl, filled to the brim with thick velvety chocolate heaven, with a hint of triple sec that added to indulgent taste to great a big boom upon every sip! 'A must try!' says The Invisible Man! and he rarely says much!

*BLAM!*

and off they go again, this time to The Coffee Club, where they were served a glass full of thick chocolatey milkshake, topped up with a scoop of ice cream. though despite the awe and presence of the drink, it could manage to top Relish, still worth a taste!

*Smash*

now headed to Hans@the national library, were the half visible duo ordered shake while waiting for a dynamic meeting! To their unfortunate dismay, it was sad concoction, of vanilla ice cream blended with chocolate syrup, barely worth the time. Remember kids, next time troubled with the ingredients list, always use real good quality chocolate ice cream! that will whip the villains into despair!

*BOOM!*

finally this half invisible duo, was at island cremery waiting for space to descend upon them, when they decided they wanted a milkshake! and a milkshake they got! though nice and tall and thick and make with reverse-o, the might island milkshake was no much for the wonders of relish.

*ka-blam!*

and there you have it folks, the mighty half-visible duo are off again, on the run from the villainy of the MINSTRY OF EDUCATION and in search for the perfect shake! TUNE IN NEXT WEEK FOR ANOTHER BEDAZZLING EPISODE! 'It's outrageous' says The Invisible Man! so it is...until next time folks!

Today, I met a most interesting man, a wandering writer by the name Hideo Asano, at Hans outside the National Library. He travels from country to country in search of inspiration for writing, much like wandering ronin, though he would probably wince at the comparison. He appeared out of nowhere, and touched our lives for a second, before the Chow and I had to take our leaves to attend to our schedules, and then he was gone. Though this small moment made me think and think a lot I have.

Asano, like I mentioned earlier, appeared out of nowhere and suddenly inquired about the book I was thumbing through for literary evidence, was written by Dickens. This promptly ended our tuition and we began to discuss the loss of the classics upon the people of today. Asano talked about how the publishers of today only print what the masses want, which is entertainment, which is rubbish, whereas books, the classics, they were food for the mind, classics such as shakespeare, nietzsche, tolsky and chekov. Authors with which many young in this country have never even heard of before, much less read.

From discussing literature, we went on to discuss the machinations of people in certain societies, the loss of the individual mind, citing countries like Japan and the US as examples. The isolation of the Japanese due to the systems and the language barrier and so on have lead to the loss of individuality in Japan, where everyone follows the mainstream. Asano was very against the mainstream. He believes in writing for himself and not for others, for writing in and of itself and not for money. It is only later when I googled him that I found out how much he holds true to his believes, he wanders from country to country, sleeping in airports, eating simply, writing. How many of us are to scared to put what we truely believe in, into practice.

We talked more upon the isolation of the thinking mind in Singapore and attainment of true freedom. He is very much like my grandfather, holding onto absolutes, yet still hold very simple and poignant truths in them. His simplicity really struck me, here is a thinking mind, a complex individual with opinions and philosophy, who enjoys time to think and ponder life, much like myself. Yet he is able to hold on to simplicity, something that i can only dream of. In a way, so much like Fr. Keane.

I wish i could write more, but i seem to have trouble expressing myself properly tonight. If you are so blessed to meet this man, I do hope you entertain him, for you might be the one who comes out better for it.

Check him out at www.hideoasano.com

You wanna know how I got these scars?

My father was a drinker....and a fiend.... and one night he goes off crazier than usual. Mommy gets the kitchen knife to defend herself. He doesn’t like that, not one bit. So, me watching he takes the knife to her, laughing while he does it. He turns to me and he says “WHY SO SERIOUS SON?”. He comes at me with the knife “why so serious son?” Sticks the blade in my mouth lets put a smile on that face and….. why so serious

i'm slipping away so unconsciously, losing more and more of my humanity. whatever little i already had. i feel so distraught, it's amazing how moody i'm becoming, swinging in and out of horrible low mood spells. The a levels are amazing, the damning stress you place on people. i'm treading such a thin line now, losing my beliefs, losing my goal. why the fuck am i doing this? why am i condemned to be so miserable? am i seeking it? is it seeking me? how easily the building collapses when the supports are all gone. support? what support where? they always talk about how they found real true friends in church? where have mine gone? where they even there in the first place? like nothing else really annoys people more than the amount of question marks i can put into a paragraph.

oh despair, despair, thou art a witty creature, ensaring me for years long past, and now you rob me of all tiny glimpses of hope dost thee. i can't remember a time in the last 6 months where i was actually happy. ya eka, you should be scared when i'm unleashed upon society, havok and chaos will reign. i don't fucking care. apathy, maybe that's what i really need, true apathy. a fucking truckload of it. who wallows in self-pity anyway. we should all just me machines, trudge forward day by day, with the boring speeches they play.

a warring affair, these here days.
they do not last.

Things never happen the same way twice, dear one.
-Aslan, The Chronicals of Narnia, Cs Lewis

through the sins of my life, through my eyes here they balantly taunt me. Like everything that i've ever wanted to do or to have flashing before my eyes. this is not good for me. Oh i tell you! I've become a beach slut. Only suited to wallow each day along the spritely beaches soaking up the suns rays, lazing around doing nothing, lazing around for not a care, lazing around, no responsibilies. that is suddenly where i find myself.

have i burnt out again, fallen into that all too familiar nook, am i to die this way? but it seems so wrong, to be tired out and demoralized before the start of a term. i resolve to be strong! i know what i must do, for after all, he put me here, and by more times than i can count or remember he has shoved me back alone this seemingless cold and fruitless path. Yet i know! it was one where the fruit will grow only when the path is finally trod. [the gates of princeton/oxford/cambridge/jhs awaits]
and he's done much to make it barren and desolate, for the events which encompass my days towards my exams are timely placed so that i may not take part in them. sigh, august, competition- u-23s, competition-acjc students, otherwise known as prelimary exams. the final frontier before the big fall. too bad we have no more terminal examinations. even other endeavours that my heart holds dear are torn and shredded, the calendar has no space for them. after all it is the major examinations year. whereupon such a year can you have time for something frivolous like a relationship, it's a most facetious statement.
give up, give up david!
you have lost much anyway, there was nothing there to begin with, just your imagination run amok. there's nothing in here life but to the dying.

i wish i wish, for war to run it's course, to be over and peace to return to us all. my sunny beaches where i can just lie down and close my eyes as the waves roll on to me, and then be no more.
I worry, now they are all dispersed, all disappeared, will i be able to face this tempestuous storm alone?

if you read this, you, yes you, you know how, AND if you don't you're really silly for missing the clue. i'm worried about you, you're overstressing yourself, you're overworking your burdens and you're applying all the oils of the perfectionist to your brain... i pray you don't burn out my dear, it would be sad to see the fire die inside, and 1st degree burns are difficult to treat and always leave scars. do relax a bit more, stop watching the clock and just concentrate on what you need to do.

this is the end of the world.
the whales stuck out of the beach,
like warheads on the sand,
here,all breached,
drowning in this summer heat.
i reach for your hand and
it's not there.
why did you leave me here,
here alone when for the world to end?

how did the world come this way?
it's like just the other day
we walked this beach alone,
the sand in our toes,
with nothing to care,
just the clouds in the air.
then they came, flipped the world
upside down, in their hands, they hold
her, crushing away the life.

take be back to winter,
when we grew the lilies behind the old garden shed.
a nightmare came one day and brought the sun out again,
and he tore away all the pure white snow,
and brought with him the evils, the heat, the wind.
and then they came, from amongst us,
they've been hiding since a long time ago,
they brought down the towers and opened the castle door,
and into our lives, they stormed tempestuous.
ever treacherously threatening to throw out
the bombs and betray the world.
my world.

and our soldiers fought one by one and fell,
liked fields ripe for the plucking, they fell,
each one, adding to the torrent, here they fell.
and the sea of blood drenched the inner city walls,
amidst the purple skies of summer.
even the kangaroorats hid in their holes,
a break from their feasting on sour corpses bleeding
to hide from them, the evils.
the world had fallen in two days.

and you said to me,
'i'll stay with you always'
but you disappeared into nothingness,
along with your quiet whispers,
fading away, from this very world,
i don't think i can last any longer...
they caught up with me today,
and in the cell they left a needle,
this hypodermic syringe, and here a knife,
a pill, oh sweet death that they have left me!
a cure they said for what was to come.

and then it began, from the dawn of day to the dust,
the terrible treatment at the hands of the evil,
for no information was i to give them,
and...and they promised me that you'll come back,
a sweet sweet promise, my dear love...
a masque for the lies they instilled in my head.
oh how i'm beginning to forget your kiss.
everyday my head explodes from the pain,
a few short memories here and there, this pain.
my brain wants to escape it all,
the voices, the delusions, the hallucinations.
here's to the endgame.
i reach for the needle,
and yet you stop me with your gentle hand,
and yet you're not there. it was my imagination bent,
broken and destroyed.

and then it happened,
it broke, the dam destroyed, the river flowed.
my mind caved in and died,
oh but sweet freedom, as the light shot from my eye...
heart beating, faster and faster,
coursing sweet energy, no more pain.
and i killed them all, a single thought,
choked them all and buried them in their technological fortress.

I haven't actually been high in a damn long time, i'd almost actually forgot the feeling. The almost out-of-body astral feeling. The weird lag time inbetween wanting to move your limbs and the actual movement, as though you were watching yourself move from afar. The depressant part of the effect. Then the was the part where you feel all high, in your head, while everything else is lagging, your mind is just zooming down thought lanes, the stimulant part of ethanol. i definitely need to do this again soon!

Freak.
I am a freak.
i serve as torment to a life that shouldn't have been.
In mind, in genes, in everything.

there isn't any way in which i can measure such monstrosity.
this that hath been born out of clay, of ash, of silt,
put here on earth, this planet zoo.

why?
i don't know...
will anything ever come easy?
when will all this end?

one year past, one new year,
here at long last, a decade over.
beware little boy, with eyes and ears
listen to the morning song.
in it only the dawn of new beginings,
the finale of all endings,
a sharpened cry at the world.
begone little boy,
you are no more, this world's been placed on
your shoulders.
weeping and crying, this burden you carry
on such small shoulders.
here at long last, a decade over.
one year past, one new year.

Lesson learnt?

we stand here in the burning rain,
staring into the distance,
the pain, the rage, the tears
tearing at our hearts, at our minds,
just one question: why?

cold water from above splashes on,
searing wounds, the pain gushes out,
in like streaks, what's your lesson?
and the whiteboard written in blood
a streak across every little mark...

no answer can you give
(could you even think of one?)
to be built, a resilience?
a character? a serial killer?
why the scars are cut across this face.

all around never fading..
the tears are falling.