a delay for joy and pain

The bars of my enslavement of the yesteryear have been long and gone. Wings have liberation have sprouted and I have never felt such a sweet breeze of freedom gliding across my face. The joy that springs forth from the depths is unlike any other. It shoots higher than any mountain and scatters to the four corners. They say a new chapter is blooming. There is no doubt and no lies behind the claim that any aniticipation is greater than kings. If I could live the life now instead of waiting a few more days, I would sieze upon the chance and bind it to my soul. All in an instant, I would grasp it and let no other threaten its existence. Such is my relish. I have a hope that my bliss will be unparalleled. For soon I shall leave my life of darkness and travel to a place where dusk and dawn embrace. A place where there are people and objects close to my heart. Yet there is a fear. A fear that lies within my greatest hope. It is a fragment of glass inside my heart. The world is ever-changing. The people we understand, the people we know, the people we meet, and even the people outside our tiny world never cease to change. I suffer a heavy disquietude. Will the bonds begin to change? Will alliances be broken? Will the confederacy fall to shatters? Will collaborators betray each other? Will the concord be deemed worthless? Will the members of the pact turn from one another? Will the mutual knot be untied? It remains a bliss-in-waiting and an sufferance unsure.

Notsnhoj

a confession of actuality

To all of this foreign land who know of my existence,

I fear to say this, yet it grows strongly within my heart like poison. An apology I owe to the people I know. Yet as this confession pours out before your eyes, I hope so strongly that you would do but one thing. To view it as if it were not me writing. For it is in that, that my story is of. For I have lied much of what is known to you. I have hidden myself behind a veil. Withdrawn deep into the depths of the unknown, only showing of the lies and deceit I had wished you to believe. Suffice it to say, that I have never shown you my own self. But instead, revealed a distortion of my actuallity. I wished I could have only shown you the true Notsnhoj. The personalities behind this hidden figure. For reasons known and deeply etched into my troubled mind, I have done you a great wrong. It was not something I had wished, but it came like a falling leaf, gracefully yet quietly. Such that I had not known its coming, and neither its presence, until time had past till there was no time left. It is of utmost importance that I say, I have grown to respect the very people I act as if I dislike. It is, I must say, a respect beyond mortal bounds. I only hope that you do not brushed it away. For in those I respect, I cannot hope to delude. For within me burns a dark and cold flame that forces me to acknowledge my abomination. It is one flame I lack the abilities to extinguish, as much as I wish to. But I have not the cold unfeeling heart to do so. I am tomented onwards by this deed of felony. For it is as ugly as a dying world, except that it is my soul dying. The shell I created, was not one that is, was, nor will be well appreciated. I had not planned it to. Yes, it was my corrupt creation, materialised from my corrupt imagination. I thought it a mere test. Yet, a test that is a lie. Albeit a cruel one. To both my hurt self and to all who remain in ignorance of my character. I wish only to show, the person that hides. Upon invitation, what would need be done would be so with none less than gladness. It is peace I seek within myself, and a pardon from those without.

Notsnhoj

the rant of the missing few

Those are grand halls, there have been none so spacious.

A history of happiness no doubt to continue.

Tonight, a night, where all come gracious.

The gentlemen come in coats all so new.

The ladies with their smiles so sweet and vivacious.

Of the people whom belong, missing are few.

Missing are few.

There are you.

The music is set, and the program is beggining.

The tables with all kinds of foods laden.

The fun and the merriment and the joy unspring.

To chat to the gentleman and sweet-talk the maiden.

Conversing, feasting, punting, dancing.

So much to do, no sign of bother nor of burden.

Of the few not there,

Would someone care?

A hearty laughter rings out, rings out, rings out.

A gallery of smiles to be seen, to be charmed.

"Hurry, lest our customers hunger and pout."

Exclaimed the manager, obviously alarmed.

Manservants flooded the premises as if in rout.

"Rush out the next dish, and back you come!"

Boil, stew, steam and roast.

Some or none for the host?

"Where is the host? Where is the host?

Long gone was the start of our feast.

We have not addressed nor seen our host.

We know him not. If we did, would we be pleased?

We should not bother if he be far or close.

He's part of the missing few, the missing least.

Where is the host? Who is the host?

He has missed the most."

"I am the host! Remember you not?

I was a friend and compatriot, care you not?

We played and danced, recall you not?

We grew up together, was that not?

You know me, know you not?

I exist in your thoughts! Do I not?

You are there.

And I am here."

"The food is laden, why taste I not?

The music is playing, why hear I not?

I should be there! Why am I not?

My soul is willing! Why am I not?

Why am I not? Why am I not?

I should be there! Why am I not?

You are there.

And I am here."

"The components of my heart are up in turmoil.

I fancy, I want, I covet, I relish!

My desires, my needs are all curled up in one coil.

To be there! To be there! That's all I wish.

My tears fall upon foreign soil.

Would there be none to fulfil my wish?"

My tears are unnoticed.

My wish is unheard.

Notsnhoj

the bastion of authority

When one speak of the United States, the impression on those around him is always great. The great America, supreme ruler of our world today. Unchallenged at the summit, she reaches down to push off those climbing up the mountain of authority. Far down she has to reach, for even those nearest to the top are not near at all. America, the land of stars and stripes, unsurpassable and divine. They alone hold the key to the gates of history.

Both respected and worshipped, America maintains a large degree of influence throughout the known world. On earth, there is none that are capable of truely challenging them. In space, they own every portion known to mankind. They rule all undentifiable matter through their undefined quantities of ducats. They are the world's richest and they have the world's richests. Their limitless industries crowd every corner of the world, drawing the currencies to them. At the center of the world, they do whatever they please. They have the cash. The world looks up to them at the summit while they look down below. Untouchable, they master all of authority. In God's name, they capitalise on their authority. With God behind them, they ravage all lands as they see fit. They make the laws. They make the rules. They command and reign over earth. They are America.

The United Nations was created so that every nations had a share in our world. Given the power and authority to act against agressive nations, they were to keep the peace. But alas, it was America whose voice was essential for the creation of this supposedly peace keeping force. A world body created to make decisions for the world. Is this a dream? Or a lie? Is the UN more powerful than the US? Surely, America has to bend to the world's authority. It is evident that America has not attacked any country for selfish amibition for fear of the collective union and resistance of the countries of the UN. What of Iraq? Is America crusading against terrorism for the sake of the world? Or is it to do with selfish ambition?

Surely, the UN can end all nonsense from America if they wish to. They are the world's body. Surely, their word weighs more than anything else? Then why does America owe $1 billion to the UN? A sum worth peanuts to the world's biggest industry. The UN blocks the will of America and America cuts off its share of paying. It is a big blow to the UN. $1 billion is a lot to the UN. It needs the cash to run. Worst still, Japan wishes to pull out of paying too! If America is not paying, why should they? Can the world's body do nothing to punish America? Their intent is obvious. Yet a nation of America's stature can afford to make claims and make the world repeat that claim.

Is the world unfair? It is always unfair. The recent Israeli attack on Lebanon shook public opinion. For two soldiers, Israel overturns everything that is standing. People have lost loved ones and their entire life. Are the attacks justified? (I myself would prefer the use of a better word than justify, for I disagree to the need for justifying any war. But let us settle for justify now, in its most general meaning.) America does not care if the war is successfully justified or not. Its claim that Hizbolla started the conflict would suffice for the faithful dogs of America. It should suffice for the rest of the world as well. After all, who dares to comdemn Israel and then condemn America for supporting the terrible attacks. Whoever does, runs the risk of angering America and losing its friendship, how ever deep. Iran obviously does not need to care as the friendship was long forsaken. But what of Syria and other Islamic countries who at the start fiercely disparaged Israel's offensive. Why is it that they have not raised a strong voice to resist the American "justification by presence"?

America reigns supreme over all the earth. They maneuvre through the expanse as if all were their own. They hold the globe upon their palms. All the soil and all the waters are theirs. Their people hold places of great influence in every land. Their navy are ever-present in every sea. The authority of the universe lies not on any hand but theirs. The future becomes what they say. They are the gateway to the heathen gods, rulers of the realm, Poseiden of the oceans and the bastion of the world's authority.

Johnston

a rebuke of politics

I write this in response to the increasing speckles of protesters who mock the Singaporean "right-wing" democracy. For years foreigners have looked upon our great democracy and laughed at our "right-wing" politics. They have mocked our leader as a dictator. Now inspiring youths have formed their ideas of a Singapore being run by true democracy. They choose to be ignorant of our past glories and our present success. The orderly society that never falters in its growth depends strongly on its political structure of intense rigidity. They claim that true democracy will make everything much better than it is. But what can anyone hope of democracy if its leading users are such poor examples. I speak of the nations of America and Australia.

The Singaporean government rewards the efforts of its citizens. All work is paid off. Earn a living yourself and strive to the fullest and you can only hope to advance your living standards. Everything you do has a consequence. The system Singapore works by allows all who push for the better life to gain the better life. America does not provide this comfort to its people. The poor stay poor no matter how hard they try. Once in a while, one lucky poor man turns rich and the media exaggerates his advance in life, making the world believe this is so of every poor American. I tell you this is not true. There are many living barely livable lives. Yes, there are those who do turn rich. What of the millions more who do the same work but suffer unprotected under the hands of their oppressive bosses. The US government does nothing to defend these slaves as they only hope to please the upper class. They need the support of the rich. In America, the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. Singapore is such that everyone reaps the benefits of their labour and everyone can improve their standard of life as long as they try.

Australia, on the other hand, is an apalling example of which I fear to use but I have no choice. In Australia, the support comes from the poor. The poor are not poor without reason. They demand welfare from the government and are thus given it. One year, down the road they realise life could be better with more and they demand more. The Australia government almosts seems happy to oblige any whim coming from these sloths. When things are not given to them, they just need to wait a few more weeks. More slackers join them due to this awesome lazy life where one works none and lives well. They add voice to those who were there to start with. The numbers increase by each word I speak. They have competence to work, but they need not use it. All that is needed for them to accomplish is to lay back and claim government handouts from suffering tax payers. I wonder if these people have any shame or conscience of what they are doing. There is no poor man in Australia. However, this comes at the cost of their honour.

It can all be summarized into this short paragraph. The poor man of America works hard but stays poor. The poor man of Australia sloths all day and collects huge sums from the government. The poor man of Singapore works hard for his own money. He earns a better living than the poor man of America and lives a more honourable life than the poor man of Australia. The democracy of America grants its rich people benefits at the expense of its poor. The democracy of Australia grants its poor people benefits at the expense of its rich.

The "right-wing" democracy of Singapore grants no one benefits at the expense of no one, benefits are only gained after hard work and laziness only results in further loss.

Every action has its consequence. The good is repaid with good. Thus, all bad are repaid with bad. Perhaps many would cry out at the harshness of the Singapore system. But isn't it all neccessary? If we look at the brilliant society Singapore has nutured. Singapore has one of the lowest crime rates. All crimes are dealt with punishment. Punishment acts both as a deterrent for non-offenders and as a lesson to offenders, lest they repeat their foolishness. An extremity? The result is a society nearly unblemished. It is safe to walk the streets of Singapore. There is no reason to fear that you may be attacked or raped. If you are then never fear, you can always meet the offender again within hours due to the high efficiency of the Singapore police.

I do not know of the American system, but having lived in Australia, I can relate of its horrors. Criminals have roamed the country for months and even years, all the while evading capture. Caught offenders have been known to beat up the police and run away. The police seem to feel no urgency in capturing law breakers. Many of the police themselves aren't too holy. Youths can steal, riot, rape and kill. If they are caught, they only need to put on a grieving facade and declare their deep repentence and they will be freed! At most they would experience the droning voice of a counseller, a punishment reserved for Singaporean youths who do not do their homework! That's meant to be murder for crying out loud. No one is afraid of breaking the law in Australia. Democracy is the cause and root of all this ridiculousness. Potential criminals after all have a vote. Let the Australian government hear their voice and lessen jail sentences so that these bandits can run amock all over the country in whatever manner pleases them. The result of the Australia true democracy. How lovely would that be in Singapore. The Singaporean government are doing their job.

Do you want pure democracy? This is only one tiny aspect of the destruction caused by these unwholesome democracies. Is this the beautiful picture that was once painted? Claims of the wonders of democracy are as ridiculous as claims for the wonders of communism. There is no difference.

Johnston

the curse of democracy

Democracy is in its richest form in the land of Australia. Freedom of speech flows further than the great rivers. Every corner of this giant land mass brings forth the rich words of the poor. On this island, no longer do the nobility exist, no longer do the rich control each and every action of the government, no longer do the great rule. In this continent it is the masses that dictate their world. They are the very basis of Australia. Every thought they form is important, every word they speak is a command, and each breath is a newly formed perfume. The masses form the core Australian politics. There is no legislation formed without their consent. There is no law that is enforced upon them. Instead, as a show of true democracy, the laws here are forced upon the ruling party by the people. The government has no power. Every day they live in fear that they may incur the wrath of community. At the slightly word, they could lose their authority, if they had any to begin with. Thus every groan and any whine, any whinge of any kind is rapidly detected by the sniffs of the government and the wishes of the people are fulfilled almost willingly. Every member of the Australian public owns a dog, and that dog is their government. The honourable job of the Australian government is to place their hallmark paw print upon every paper demanded of them.

The incompetency of the government is reflected even among individual leaders. A leader is chosen because he is popular and well-liked. Without a doubt, this leader will possess a large count of intelligence. Yet, none of this will be used. A leader does not lead. He follows. A leader in Australia trying to lead is immediately ridiculed and mocked at. His actions of goodwill are seen as attempts to restrict the masses. He is seen flaunting his newly found powers, basking in his own authority. He must not try to lead. For the moment he does, the ignorant public will hit him down. He is getting too arrogant, they will say.

I see these things as normal. Democracy has always thrived in our world. A great hindrance it is, but it thrives and we must learn to cope with it. A leader is not a man with authority, he is a man with responsibility. Despite constant resistance from the general public, a leader should never back down. The rationale behind why they rebel is the same cause for why the leader should persevere and lead. The masses are a lost and confused lot. The reason why they are the masses is simply because they are too inferior in intellect to lead. They grumble and they whine. These are the natural actions of the ignorant. Their brains have never been fully developed, as they do nothing but complain about issues beyond their mental capacity. They never know what is best for them so at times it is neccessary to serve to them decision on the tip of a blade. It is possible that they may still defy common sense. Then incentives should be shown to them at gunpoint, and perhaps with a few cadavers. It is nothing strange to be disgusted whilst talking to these peoples. The masses have always been good at ensuring that. Their stupidity may well be a good topic for them to talk about if they were even wise enough to realise it. Thus, a leader must always strive to lead these lost sheep. The trouble they cause when they are alone is never too little. It would serve better if they were stopped before that. I have always seen these actions of the masses as normal. Thus my reasoning on why a leader should be present. The masses need to be bounded and gagged. A little pain may ensure that they will live a healthy lifestyle in the future. It is a leader's job to fix the problem, to right the wrong, and to teach the dumb.

Johnston

the approach of winter

The cold creeps in like the thief. Its presence is neither announced nor felt. It builds up on the outskirts of our senses. We never know of its intentions until the moment it rushes in. When it is too late, we find it everywhere around us. Encased within its cold blue arms, there is no way out. Its grip is as hard as ice, crushing us into submission. The cold slides its freezing palm across our cheeks. All trace of warmth is drawn away and the cold clings on. The cold always remains. The cold draws us toward its motherly breast when it feels that we have suffered it too much. It takes away all suffering, all feeliing, and the sense of touch. As we lay in its midst, we no longer feel its terror. Perhaps by then we do not even know what terror is, or perhaps we do not know anything except to lie there and keep silent. As silent as the cold. Then it snuffs us out as if we were a gentle flame. All warmth is gone. The cold invades. It pursues and harasses. We are powerless in its might. Like a blade it draws itself along our necks, awaiting the command to cut. When cold cuts, its cut is so clean it would seem that its victim was never whole to begin with. As clean as steel, just as steel is cold. The cold is cold-hearted. It is merciless and its massacre is horrendous. It gives no quarter. When it comes swarming around its victim, life no longer proceeds past that suffering stage. Life is preserved in cold. An everlasting life is forged. A life in death. The cold is a blunt blade. It is blunt with its words, going straight to the point of its will. It clutches you by the neck and tells you. It tells you what it wants. It tells you to let it claim your life. It tells you that you are powerless. It tells you that you fear. The cold summons fear. It summons hate and curses from men as well. But it summons fear more than any other. All fear the cold. Both the cold and fear are born together. One does not come without the other. The man who does not fear the cold is a doomed man. The cold is a cruel device, always sneering with its smile so lacking of charm. Like a thousand flying daggers, it stabs us in every possible way in all its grace. Though loved by some and hated by others, the cold hates all.

the song of the morning

The sun rose with the gracefulness of a swan, spreading its endless glory across the heavens. It brought life to the vast sky with its divine presence, adding colours to where darkness had once reigned. The grass sway with the passing wind and sparkled amidst the morning dew. It was a fresh new morning that whispered to me of my unspoken dreams. Then it came floating with the wind, so freely and so gently before falling as if it were a petal. It seemed to be a voice, but if it was, then it was a voice like none other. All that was done was simply a greeting from the courtesy of a charminig young lady, and yet it came to me as a song. It was a song I wished would never end. It was a voice that looked more lovely than a blood rose. A voice that smelt more fragrant than aromatic perfume. A voice that tasted sweeter than golden honey. A voice the felt too soft for my coarse palms to touch. It was a voice I wish to hear again.

We Went And Left A World Behind

When we venture into a world too big,

We often find that we leave things behind.

Things of value, things of great worth,

Things rooted deep into our hearts and mind.

We leave items we cannot bring along,

For the journey that we must take.

Leaving tiny treasures, gifts of love,

Things that we desperately wish to take.

The warm comfort of home is gone,

As we pitch our tent elsewhere.

A lost feeling resides in our hearts,

We lay here lacking love and care.

Love ones that never left our thoughts,

Love ones we shall not meet for long.

A bitter and thirsty longing to see them all,

A useless hopeful thought, an empty song.

We went and left a world behind,

A world familiar, a world we knew.

Our aspirations are far from complete,

The deeds we have done number too few.

We gaze back at the times we had,

We still have much we have not said.

Tears start to form a puddle at our feets,

We will watch the years go by as we wait.

the call of life

We were born into the world undeserving. We were granted a life we did not earn. The land we were born into, we did not choose. Instead, the land chose us, and gave us its fruit of which we live off. After maturity sets in and our growth taken place, the time comes for our story to be written. The path we choose must be right in theory and right in the morals we chose to live by. We should choose to show our gratitude to this land that brought us up and repay it for the good that we were given. We are bound by an unwritten law of nature to owe our loyalty to the land that bore us. Our honour would be at stake if we chose to violate the pact our ancestors made with the ground on which their blood was spilled. Our commitment should not be an empty one. Only when one is willing to fight to whatever cost would this allegiance be made whole. It is not a right. It is a duty. A duty by which failure to fulfill would mean an inglorious and dishonourable death. Through the ages to come, all of the past will be remembered. The honourable dead will be honoured and the dishonourable will be mocked at even in their death. All people of whatever stand, great or small, rich or poor, ruler or subject, owe the same love for the Fatherland. All were born to the same land. All live through the same hardships. All will die for the same cause.

a recount of the present

Author's note: This is a recount of my entry into a new world that may not be so new. If you get what I mean... though I do not myself. Also I do not feel like typing in my preferred Clapasian fashion, thus please make do with this. Still, you must keep your excitement down as this style may also be queer, and definately not normal. And I know it's a bit late, but I got my internet late.

Extreme Sports

Ever since I have been flung far out into lands beyond the reached of my beloved country, I have constantly been plagued with sadness and a deep longing for my homeland. I lay in my own grief wishing to find peace and yet adventures came persistantly though strongly unwanted. On this first night in an unfamiliar land, I longed no more than a shelter to rest under. Entering the unlit domains of my newly aquired home, a sudden coldness swept across my right foot. My sixth sense informed me of a leaking roof, so I looked up, but I found nothing. My tired and heavy head hung down disappointed in my false judgement. Then there it was. Even as my vision was focused straight forth toward the dusty ground, I could spy a giant black image scurrying around the corners of my fully dilated pupils. I spun ninety degrees clockwise, possibly more, and saw before my awesome presence, a spider. Not any ordinary spider, this one must have been enjoying the peace it had in my empty home prior to my arrival. Without having to use my extremely intelligent brain, I calculated that this spider was either the size of my left fist or maybe even more. Further calculations told me that this would be a one-sided battle. I fled. From one corner of my living room I flung one of my only two weapons (my shoes) at the horrendous creature unknown to mankind, or possibly only unknown to me. As if in slow motion, I watched my shoe rotate its way toward the spider, finally missing it by a good ten inches. Still, it was sufficient and the spider jogged away. It stopped and hid behind a black bag. From that second on, I was a changed man. This spider had totally made the wrong move, that black bag was a possession of mine. A chair was swung in a semi-arch and the bag flew off. The vile hairy scum cowardly made his escape, only to be impeded by my right foot. My left arm holding my other shoe, flew downward while I shouted, "Bankai!" But the filthy spider played dirty by dodging my grand slam. It should have just stayed there. A great chase was made, it probably lasted ten seconds, possibly less. Zooming its way into the garage and dodging my well aimed frenzied attacks, the spider scurried under the family car. In a flash I was off and back again (I even had time for a glass of water), without my right shoe, but with a bottle of insecticide in each of my hands. I ducked down to give the spider one final look at my extremely smart-looking face before I ended its miserable life. It was not under the car. With extreme speed and gracefulness, I spun around firing my sprays the same way Mr. and Mrs. Smith did. I kept spinning, anxious to avoid the smeaky spider's ambush. I dashed through the door and back to safety, fellig dizzy and extremely annoyed at my failure. Then, there on the kitchen floor, I saw two cockroaches that would later suffer my wrath.