the dealings of shifty smiles

There are harsh words and crude gestures. An impregnable stronghold of persons, seemingly without fault. They turn the world around as They please. They are the axis amidst us, our fates binded to Their wills. None can stand against Them, nor have many achieved the desire to do so. Yet amongst the seemingly impecable society, there are hidden snares. There is something pertruding through that stiff human barricade. In the quiet, vicous and unwholesome vices reach out for the hands of associates. In the dark back alleys, They comsume one another. We know of the holy innocents whom They hate. We know of how these came to their ends, all at the work of Their hands. We know of the oppression that They bring, and of the fear that They cast. Yet who would know of the filthy dealings carried out within Their inner circle. It had surprised me. I had never knew. You may never have. Their shifty smiles that caused those shivers down your spine. Who would have thought that in those, They had hidden intentions for each other that may not have sat well within each other's hearts. You would have thought Them the closest of friends. Yet every curse uttered was meant for the brother next to him. Once the world had believed Them to use others for Their own means, but who knew that They did the same with one another. Turning ally on ally for personel gain, all behind a smile. Stabbing the other's back, all within a hug. No wonder you thought Them creatures of filth. So low is Their friendship. So base are Their words and promises. Hidden behind the veil of friendship, there are dirty dealings. Hand in hand, they sing with one voice, all behind those shifty smiles.

Notsnhoj

a splinter of amber

Upon what did I blemish my sense of taste? The bitter pill of sorrow? Of injustice? Or of betrayal? For what reason did it hurt so bad? That I would be rendered speechless, at the distasteful treatments from a friend. Or so had I believed him so. But what friend would have you constantly smiling at him with eyes sparkling as if he were the sun of your life? What friend would utilise of your help when of his grieving moments then cast you aside when you are of yours? That he would have you pining shamelessly for his supposed strong arms. Why would he be so willingly bask in the glory of you grovelling at his feet? That hi would enjoy you behaving in such a self-depriciating manner, bowing and apologising all the time of one or another of your traits that he finds an eyesore. The norm of a friend? Or are you instead slave to him? To scrape the dirt off his possessions and lick the grease off his boots, and still call them gold. And instead of the common gratitude, you recieve the now-the-common slander and spittle. Is this the sort of friendship people seek so desperately? A shame. I had believed so. Yet it would seem more likely that my unfortunate folly be turned to a story many comedians would use. A joke. Some would call it. I must admit that I am not entirely sure if I would ever hve the mental justice to turn back on this event in future times of ill or fortune. Whether for memory or reflection. But it must be known that the most straight-forward understanding is this: That this slight exists as a splinter of amber etched deep into my heart, glowing in the light that all manner of trust and friendship has been dispelled. His faithlessness has enforced an alteration in policy. We live in a world of difference.

Notsnhoj

the rains of Brunei

The thunders roar. The people tremble.

The rains pour. The cold instills.

Amidst biting cold and misty ravines, we lie here, a miserable lot. We are encaved within naught but a pointlessly thin layer of nylon. At least it serves the mundane purpose of hiding our eyes from the terror of the storm. Nevertheless, the howling wind has breached our defenses, with its chill tightening its icy hold around our throats. There is no way of escaping the drenching. It is so cold. There is no way of escaping the wind. It is so cold. There is no way of escaping the storm. It is so cold. For an unneccessary but existing obligation, we will suffer it.

It would seem that I have lost myself in a past long gone with the winds of history. I envisioned myself gathered into my mother's warm embrace and secure within the steady grasp of my father's hands. Just as it had always been. In these, all manner of comfort and security lie. Yet what used to be is no more. Now, there is only the cold and me. It is without of my nylon protection. And within it. And within me. It is so cold.

Notsnhoj

the sands of time

The sands of time. A term that speaks of a whole new grey world. A world where time has slowed to the point where each tick is a lifetime. A distortion on the face of a clock. A world where each day is a year, each minute is an hour, and each second a millennium. The sands of time. A world where humanity hangs at a pause to watch all the sands of the deserts flow through an hourglass. An age of ennui. The sands of time. An eternal pause. Of silence.

Notsnhoj ancuz Clapase
Saph-oins quinjyo nopa ul pevra"quinjyo veok pevra"malgeun.

the collapsing of the world

And so they lied. I had been in grief over the recent sudden collapse of my world. I had clawed and scraped along the sides of my heart amidst my agony. I had been cast aside like a rag, no longer to be deemed an entity. And I was in pain. Then they came. The words of comfort, the precious hug, and the beautiful painting of the future. I was greatly cheered. I found the smile I thought I had lost. I croaked the laughter long stuck in my throat. My pathetic naive self had lost the battle of wits. I had been standing in a room of curtains where all my vision was impaired. I was informed of what lay beyond the curtains in words I foolishly took for truth. All of a sudden, the grief returned, the agony took root, and the pain expressed itself more than ever. Once again, I forgot the art of smiling. My lips only twitching at the odd angle on the odd occasion.

Notsnhoj

the beginning of terror

A bitter siege. A dark one, where I am trapped within knowing little of what was happening without. With my eyes covered with more than sand, I was more than oblivious to my surroundings. Yet they have come. They have started. And they have ended it. They took all I ever held dear. This is the bitter A siege I have no hold upon, where all I do is done as good as its absence.

Notsnhoj

the bettering of our world

Let them cry upon the bosoms of their mothers before they face their fates. Let them run away lest the day come where they run no longer. Let them them suffer beyound all understanding of pain. Let death itself awaken them from their folly. To rid the world of impurities. To cleanse our lives by removing the bad elements. Those selfish entities that exist to revoke the pacts and to destabalise the peace. How that mortal men claim their own claims. How that no common understanding shall be accomplished. Would that our society be run by the decisions of one wise man. So that all would be as such, and none other way. So that the eternal river would flow without disturbances and obstacles. So that all would be served and plans made to success. Would that the masses put aside their foolish claims. Why fight when one bears no sufficient intellect to spawn ideals worth of notice? Would that those that rebel be hidden from the better side of the world so we need not taint our eyes. Would that some would cease to exist, and others more so.

Notsnhoj