Monday, June 23, 2014

Love Letter to the Dead



Enter a war and return a hero. The soldiers don't chase the glory, they are just doing something that need to be done,even thought they knew they going to die doing it.They die nameless as they fight nameless.

For the people whose country I cannot imagine how ashamed,how deep the sadness,or the severity of their pride shattered. To have a home yet destroyed and molested. To have a home yet brutalized and blatantly killed. Maybe the dead have the better mercy than the living.

Reagan was right. To use a nuclear weapon on another country is unthinkable. Vietnam War bothered me so much. How could you,how dare you, ask me to believe in humanity, to trust another person, when they constantly and consciously turn their back on unmitigated injustice? To see a grown man recounting the story how their friend die in the war is to see pain in its most raw true form.

They taste of food, the breath the air, feeling the solid ground beneath your feet,these privileges taken from the victim of our ignorance. The real is human is the guy standing non-stop for 12 hours with a manila card that spells ' Stop War". As real tears drop fall down my cheeks writing this, I stand crestfallen and broken-hearted to learn that no matter how much I cry,how many tears I shed,  am powerless to stop what already happened, what is happening and what going to happen in the future. Trapped in a world with no mercy and hypocrisy,how could I continue walking this earth and still call myself a man when I did nothing to rectify everything that is sick and wrong with this world? I guess speaking is best done through bullets.

Saturday, June 21, 2014

TO BALL OR NOT TO BALL

The problem with my futsal-mate is they are nervous with the ball. They are nervous passing the ball,they are nervous moving with the ball,and nervous having the ball.And they will never never never ever pass the ball forward,they are just not confidence enough to pass the ball forward. They pass to the side,pass to the back and repeat that 20 times. I mean,how the fuck you gonna score a goal if you keep passing at he back.
THE GOAL IS IN THE FRONT OF YOU ,FOR GODSAKE, ARE YOU INSANE,ARE YOU MENTALLY RETARDED??? WHY THE FUCK YOU WONT PASS )(*&^%&()*%#%&R@&$*^@9 gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHH.


(I dont have the heart to tell my friend how pathetic and lame his futsal skill.)

If you are wondering where I've been, well, I was send to prison for molesting your mom.

Thanks for reading this lousy and boring Apple Waffle,see you next time and dont forget to kick your boyfriend/girlfriend in the butt because you and I know he/she deserve it.
(I don't even put photo in this post,what lazy bastard.....sheesh)