Lady Madonna.

So I've finally gotten my muse back and hopefully this shitty block that i've had over the past few months has ended! I walked out of one of my classes today and started thinking. And then I started jotting what I was thinking down. And before I knew it 5 pages of poem were written. Well, I'm not quite sure if one could call this poetry but, frankly, I don't care. This is a rather post-modern piece. With the subjectivity and what not. But anywho I shall stall no further.
PS. Yes, it looks long. But it is actually a pretty quick read.


Upon entering there's a seat.
A smile waiting next to it.
A few words;
-I'm tired. It's too early-
Finally the main entrance.
Everyone stares. Everyone listens.
Pens in Hands. Papers on desks.
Then the alienation.
The silence.
A small nudge of elbows. Right on left.
And vice versa.
The slapping of books on tables.
The turning of pages.
Flick. Flick. Flick.
Thirteen.
Highlighters screech over words.
But underneath it all; the awkwardness.
A silence from both ends.
Its over.
The chair is pushed towards the desk.
And then a cold shoulder.
An empty right.
A hollowness inside.
A sinking.
Then some false pretense.
Some thinking. In solitude.
A flight of stairs leading up but walked down.
And then some more.
Blue walls. Minimal decor.
The shelves.
Philosophy. Religion. Science.
Language- Art.
Sheets laying dead on eachother.
Black on white. The facts.
A seat by itself. Surrounded by many.
The whispering.
The cold, piercing silence.

An after-effect.
Action - Reaction.
Or a lack from both ends.
Maybe it's just the morning.
The cold outside.
The wind stabbing cores of inanimates.
And animates too.
To animate.
Animation.
Animated.
Mate.
Mating.
That's what the book was about.
Added some oppression.
Freedom to and freedom from.
Hollowness.
Emptiness.
Feelinglessness.
In turn that too is a feeling.
The feeling of not feeling.
A shared glimpse upon passing.
Dead sentiments which lay buried in the mud.
Nolite te bastardes carborundorum.
But it still happened.
Carpe diem.
But the day died too.
Dulce et decorum est.
But only if it's real.
And then another glimpse.
Another set of eyes.
The butterflies.
But, alas, it is winter.
The cold. The rain. The shoulder.
Dulce et decorum est.
But is it real?
The legs march on.
A stuttering of shoes.
The stuttering rifle's rapide rattle.
But is weaponary truly necessary?
Parallell lines on a paper. Short. 3mm.
Followed by a closing parenthesis.

And then a clock.
Tick Tock.
But the tock stops.
And then an end.
A concluding line.
A termination of flow.
-It's late. I must go-

That's it. If you actually managed to read it all- Kudos to you! I'm not quite sure what it's about. You can look at it like a collage I guess. I just let the words write themselves. Anywho: I GO MAKE COFFEE, MENN! I just had to add that at the end :)

Peace and Love,
Torii xo

Who'd have known?

Like I said in a previous post, I've suddenly decided to make up for all the things I didn't post over the summer. It's not that I stopped writing. Au contraire, I wrote as much as I always do. It's just that sitting in front of my laptop doesn't provide me with much inspiration. I can't seem to figure out why, though. Maybe it's just the childish thrill I get as I move my hand across the grainy paper. Or the power of holding a pen. Pens are weapons too, you know! I can write anything I want about who, where, when or whatever I choose to. And no one can stop me. When I write, be what I produce good or utter rubbish, I feel free. As if I'm sat on a skateboard rolling down on a massively steep hill. It's like an adrenaline rush, I guess. And I can't stop myself. Most of the time I don't even think. I just let my hand manipulate the pen into releasing little loops, lines and splotches of coloured ink onto the page. I guess what I'm trying to say is that putting pen to paper is like a catharsis- One I don't reach when i monotonously type.

Anyway, enough of this nonsense about writing and how I enjoy it and what not. I'm absolutely positive that no one wants to hear about that.

I can not believe that in under two weeks summer will have ended, and school finally start. It's not that I haven't enjoyed the season. I honestly did. It's just that five months of summer vacation is a tad too much- don't you think? And, call me a nerd, I'm really looking forward to going back to school. I miss that place. You should see it when it rains- everyone packed like sardines in the Admin building during the short twenty minute breaks. And then scattering out like "men in fire or lime", as Owen (♥) put it, in hopes of getting to class dry. There are short cuts, of course. Halls you can pass through to lessen your time spent sploshing in the rain. But, I love the rain. It reminds of England. I remember frequently visiting London when i was younger. The dullness of the sky. The weight of the clouds. And of course the rain. And then the less obvious things, like fashion and the shows. The trips to London Zoo. And of course that time we drove to Scotland.

So, you see, I need this weather. It keeps me going. But, yet again, I have drifted from my main topic.

And to top it all off, I have forgotten what it is.

Peace and Love,

Torii xoxo

Babybird

So the other day I opened a fresh tab on my web browser and list of all things Google related appeared, as it always does. The only difference was that I bothered checking the links out. One of them led to blogger and here I am. Writing some random rubbish to make up for what appears to be the larger of a whole five months.

Well, for starters, school season has officially begun. About fifty thousand kids started school today, more will start throughout the rest of this week. The university Fresher's Week begins on Friday and many Post secondary schools start or have or have started this week. MCAST and ITS, however, have totally different school dates so I will not go into that.

As for me? I've decided to do another year of so-called 'Sixth Form' and just get more A Levels. I do have a dilemma, though. What intermediates to take? I have decided to move Biology up a level and study it as an A Level and I will also be sitting through another year of Wilfred Owen, William Shakespeare and the like, however I can not decide on my three intermediates.

Here are my current options:

Marketing- I already have an A Level passmark in it, so I figure Intermediate should be pretty easy.

Sociology- I just find it really interesting so I will, at least, enjoy studying it.

Home Ec.- I studied it at intermediate last year so I already know the syllabus.

Art- This subject I LOVE! I have been brought up in a house where art is really important so studying the history of art, for instance, would be pretty col. Plus, I love drawing and painting and all things arty so I guess that's a positive right?

Now the only question is which three?

Peace and Love,

Torii xoxo

And sometimes at night i dream of the most horrible things..

Do you ever think back to the past?
Either subconsciously through a dream, or from an old text message you read while deleting others.
Do you ever remember how it used to be?
Be it better or worse.
Do you remember how you used to feel?
Do you remember how you used to make others feel?
Do you ever feel what you used to feel?
Do you ever think back to all the chances you had?
To all the chances you lost, to all the chances you'll never get back.
Do you ever stop and stare?
Do you ever remember?
Do you ever wonder?


Sometimes questions like to wonder the page alone; just as clusters of words and nothing else. No meanings, no answers. Just question marks. That's why so many of them can not be answered. Or don't need to.

Peace and Love,
Torii xoxo

Lines for the dishearted and illminded.

You used to.
But now you don't.

That's all i have to say.

Torii.

See your true colours.

I sit on the sofa,
staring at my blurred reflection in the glass window opposite.
I think about the past.
I remember it.
I remember what used to inspire me.
Who used to inspire me.
How that person made me feel,
How that person makes me feel.
How different that person has become,
Yet how similar the person remained.

People do not change.
They adapt.
They blend in,
Cover up,
Wear a mask.
Pretend.

People lie.
They lie about what they are,
Who they are,
Who they want to be,
Who they want you to be.

People conform.
They conform to society,
They conform to friends,
They conform to acquaintances,
They conform to what is asked of them.

They act like nothing matters,
Like nothing ever has
or ever will.

They say things;
things that they do not mean,
or know the meaning of.

They talk hate,
But know not of it
Because they have never truly felt it.

They talk of peace,
But can't truly imagine it,
As they have never encountered it.
They never will.

You will always be the same. You will never change. You can tell her that you have changed or will, you can tell your lawyer that you have changed, you can tell me that you have changed. But you have not. You do not know how to. You never will. You think you may have changed and everyone around you believes you, but upon travelling to the darkest depths of your soul and the most sepulchral parts of your oblivious mind; can you honestly state that you have?

I didn't think so.

Torii.

I got lost in the blink of an eye..

Right so. I come bearing great news =) Well at least it is great for me.

Firstly, I have finished some more designs. Very gradually a nice file of work is biulding up. Oddly I find sitting in my dad's shop really good for inspiration. Probably because it's full of his designs and what not.

Now, the thing that is actual 'news' is that I finally thought of an actual name for the line of clothes and what not. A brand name if you will. I thought i would blog about since i got some good feedback from the previous post in which i wrote about the designing thingy. Again, tell me what you think about it. So here it is:

Torii-O-Phrenic Designs.

Generic-ish yes i know. But I somehow like the sound of Designs at the end of it. To me it sounds like semi stage name, semi mental disorder. So i quite like it. But please do tell me what you think :) Ah dreams, dreams haha.

In conclusion-
Short post- Yes. However as always i shall write a concluding paragraph.

Dreams are not dreams if the rest of the world even lightly believes that they can come to life. For then they would merely be an easy reality such as getting the ferry boat from Malta to Gozo.

Peace and Love
Torii xoxo


PS! A super happy birthday goes out to my super bro, Karl.

English Summer Rain

This morning I woke up, in almost complete darkness, to the marvellous sound of pouring rain. Just listening to it made me fall asleep again, untill my dad woke me up for the fifth time. I guess the fact that my room was reasonably darker than it usually is when i wake up, made me think that it's still Five AM.

I rolled out of my bed, bumping my head on the bedside table- ouch- and dragged myself to kitchen for my coffee before performing my usual morning rituals. On the way to mass i got a fuzzy feeling in my stomach. The reason for thisall boiled down to the sky being so dark and padded with clouds along with the way the rain was puring down- it reminded me of the U.K. Summer in the U.K, actually. I miss it so much!

That was another pointless post, now wasn't it? (:

Ah well, Here's to everyone fullfilling they're farfetched dreams and to Emigration!

Peace and Love,

Torii xoxo

Kill the Director.

Ah blogger, blogger: I missed you so.
In my last post I did not actually use blogger, I just published from it. Now I'm writing directly from the blogger "New Post" page. I don't quite know why but it does feel different.

Currently I'm sitting in my room listening to The Womabts. I moved my desk right infront of the massive windows a couple of weeks ago in one of my crazy must-change-room fits. So, yes. I'm just watching the rain as it drizzles down looking like a curtain made from transparent ants. Am I the only who feels as though this weather is more like something one would find in australia at this time of year? I mean usually by now not only would many of us be tanned but we would have also started swimming and what not. I'm not complaining, mind you. If we could have this weather everday I would be as happy as a cartoon character, honestly. We haven't really had winter this year, or rain.

Does anyone know what a massive, red ERROR sign right under the 'Title' tab stands for? It keeps popping up, maybe it's just the internet connection.

Anywho, this was a pointless post but quite frankly i don't care :)

Peace and Love,
Torii xoxo

He came He saw He conquered: Or not.

He mumbled on, trying to impress the people he invited, with his daft, big-headed knowledge. Words pelleted out his mouth, landing explosively. They felt toxic; like some kind of mustard gas out to kill me. At that point Wilfred Owen trudged into my mind with his troop they were “knock-need, bent like beggars under sacks, coughing like hags”. I could hear shouting Gas, Gas, QUICK, BOYS! I was forced onto a chair as the young man in front of me carelessly probed my mouth with a metal rod; very much unlike Owen who only probed encumbered sleepers out of wonder. The voice that protruded from this man's mouth was muffled and the concoction of vowels and consonants stretched, as one would hear it in a horror movie. He leaned in towards me one last time leading me to the feeling that this was the right moment to get everything off of my chest.

I reached my arms out over my head until they reached his collarbone, gradually louring them across his white, starched collar- probably ironed by his mother, as I imagine a person like himself incapable of finding someone suitable to date, let alone marry. I gently wrapped my fingers around his chicken-like neck as he sarcastically raised his eyebrows and then, as he looked around as if for some kind of approval, I began tightening my grip, digging my bitten down nails into that area where the spine connects to the skull. Everything around me faded as I pressed on watching his face turn red and his eyes bulge out blood shod. Panic hooked onto each vein and artery in his body as he froze over; I looked into his hideous pupils and laughed whispering words into his ear which I could feel as they rolled of my tongue like frozen drops of blood. I let him gasp for air one last time and let go. I found no use in killing him, I don't even like the idea of murder anyway. Like this, the moment would forever be imprinted into his futile mind- He would live with it everyday.

As the rest of the room became clear again, I grunted and looked away. I wished I had actually done all that but being sent to psych ward wasn't a part of my plan for the day.

Peace and Love,

Torii xo

Art and artness.

I am such; an; idiot!

Everytime i watch Pirates of the Caribean I keep wondering where I've heard the name William Turner before, and now, sitting my chair flicking through my SOK notes I noticed that William Turner is a Painter and a damn good one at that. His art has a kind of magic to it, many of his pieces cover seascapes. Et voilà ;

This is art.

My favorite artist of the late 18th Century/ Early nineteenth, however, is Goya. Many of you must have seen the film Goya's Ghosts, i hope? If you haven't watch it. It stars Natalie Portman, Javier Bardem and Stellan Skarsgard. I believe Jonathan Pryce also acts in it, unless my memory is playing tricks on me 8) He acted as Elizabeth Swann's father in Pirates of the caribean.

(Pictures- Left: Movie Poster, Right; The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters- F. Goya)

I apologize for the messiness of this post- blame it on blogger =) That's all for now, I'll add on to this later on when I've finished revising art.

Peace and Love,

Torii xoxo

Poems for the dishearted and illminded- The Haunted Fishbowl.

“When you look into that fishbowl,

Tell me; what do you see?”

Well, two colored goldfish

Starting right back at me!

“Look again, dig deep into your mind

and when you get there tell me;

What do you find?”

I see my reflection and search into my eyes..

I'm a goldfish now, seeking that which lays behind.

I look through the glass separating I from me;

What an awesome feeling to be so light, so free!

“Alas child, there is no time for play and squander,

We're on a mission of discovery, not wonder.”

My psych is now a goldfish too,

swimming right behind me to push me through.

“In from those black windows, this shouldn't take long”,

And there to welcome us waited a giant glass bong.

I was cleaning my goldfish- finally!- and randomly thought of this..it doesn't make much sense and it is far FAR from finished but i needed to write it somewhere and blogger was open ^^

Peace and Love

Torii xoxo

Conscious

"Music and roses burst through crimson slaughter"
-W.O <3

I love that quote, depressing as it may be. I find it quite inspirational artistically speaking.
And, talking about inspiration, I have been designing alot lately. I blame it on my dad really- i wish as good as him at it though, but anywho.

I have come up with some fairly nice "garments 8) " if i may say so myself, and i am thinking of naming my clothing line something like;

'Torsome Designs'

- I know, it sounds VERY generic, that is why i am asking for your help ..or opinions?

Today i began learning how to use a professional sewing machine: SCARY! Firstly it is big, okay maybe not that big but still IT. IS. REALLY. FAST. and can sew through your hand without any effort whatsoever. Hmm maybe something like that should be featured in the next Saw movie.

So..yes, i am happy; I managed to sew a pair of microshorts- not for wearing, they were just a sort of test run to see if i am capable of [manipulating] the machine.

Besides that, i rummaged through some material- found some really nice colours, patterns and textures- and i stumbled upon an amazing bag. It is very sixties Yellow Submarine-ish; if you haven't watched the film, check it out NOW! The 'creatures' designed on it are the many many acid-inspired ones in the film. <3

Anywho, i have a migraine which feels like a supermassive blackhole in my head at the moment so i am going to rip my fingers off the laptop and glue my eyes to Starwars instead. Yes- i said it; S T A R W A R S ..it makes me laugh =)

In light of that i say "May the Force be with you" and bid everyone faretheewell.


Peace & Love,
Torii xoxo

Poems for the dishearted and illminded- Life.

I walked along this morning,
Behind the tanker of despair,
Where eventually it led me,
Down to its hideous layer.

One by one it will take us,
To this dark and gloomy place;
It will rob us of our feelings,
And scare us with its face.
It will leave us feeling empty,
Alone and without hope.

No one will ever find us,
Or throw us down a rope.

I wrote this last sunday, but anywho.

Peace and Love,
Torii xoxo

Poems for the dishearted and illminded- The 3Rs.

The world is a dead place.
Dead people.
Dead places.
Dead animals.
Dead faces.
Dead feelings.

Nothing is truly alive;
Who lives, lives to die.
Who lives is dying.
Dying feelings
and emotions.
Dying thoughts
and devotions.

The planet and the world,
have begun to deteriorate and twirl.
And along with them we shall leave,
in winds that howl and whirl.

Reduce, Reuse and Recyle- Yes, it's like Environment crazy week at school at the moment. So i'm feeling inspired. Anywho, i shall now depart and get back to my Wilfred Owen studying.

Peace and Love,
Torii xoxo

Defrosted ice spreads like cancer.

"Rain, rain go away come again another day. All the world is waiting for the sun." - Breaking Benjamin.

Humans are animals, biologically speaking. Animals run. Humans run too. We run from predators. We run out of fear of the bad. But then we differ from other animals in that the fear we run from is occasionally the fear of something good happening. The fear of a positive force that might capture us. Hold us captive. And then like a genetically modified nail, hammer itself into our skulls, penetrating into our minds and finally give us that tiny spec of hope. Causing us to believe that good things exist. That good things happen. That they happen by themselves. Without superficial aids. Without hallucinations. Without lies. The deeper the nail gets into our head the more brainwashed we become. Then the whole positivity process begins. We wake up smiling. Go to bed smiling. Sing in the shower. Hate the songs that have deep meanings. Feel a constant sense of euphoria. Laugh out of nothing. And of course, let the sun shine through any rainy day. We'll be the sun for others. We'll leave them behind when they turn into rain because we don't understand them. We don't want to understand them because that will bring us to that cold patch in the back of our minds. The patch that remained frozen despite our current state of warmth. That patch will remind us that we too felt like rain. We too acted like the rain, pushing away the sun. This will make us think. The big smiles on our faces will start to fade but now it's too late. Everyone around us has gotten used to us being the sun. So as our euphoria escapes us with every breath we exhale, we become more hollow. But being that we are currently the sun, we keep that smile on our face. Our cheeks start to hurt. The smile starts to bore us- but we keep it on because we don't want others to know how we feel. We think that supergluing the paper smile to our lips will stop it from withering away. It will trap the last bit of hope we still have in the warm blood of our sunny hearts. But it doesn't. We keep getting more hollow. The cold patch in our minds starts to defrost, it's icy waters filling us, travelling to our hearts. We reach complete emptiness. The cold water condeses and clouds up the blood in our core, making it harder for us to portray emotion. Making it harder for us to feel. The defrosted ice spreads like a cancer through our bodies, infiltrating our souls too. Our acquaintances, who previously seemed like rain to us, morph into the sun as our eyes get blurry- In reality it is us who are changing not them- We fall back into the deep pit of feelinglessness. Of numbness. And then we start to run all over again. We run out of fear of the positivity hurting us again. It starts to look like a scimitar; bright, shiny, cold, hurtful and blunt in all of it's severe sharpness.

The cycle then starts again. The running. The bumping into. The feelings. The fading. The emptiness. The running.

Peace and Love,
Torii xo

Halluni.

Kull hoss dagharitli go mohhi
bhal xi ljun lest ghall pranzu.
L-ghasafar izekzku vjolentament,
ilsienhom twil ihabbatli fuq widnejja
bhal xi id kiesha u krudili.
Il-karozzi ghaddejin bhal tanek tal-gwerra;
Jiddisturbaw il paci u jqacctu 'l-ftit sanita' li qaghad baqali.
U n-nisa jippassiggaw bit tkaken itektku
b'kull pass jghafgulek mohhok.
Bhal xi sikkina diehla go fik;
bil mod il mod TOQTLOK.

This is first poem i've ever tried wiritng in Maltese. I'm quite proud of it actually, but on the other apologies for any spelling or wrong grammitcal imput.

Peace and Love,
Torii xoxo

There's always something else.

I don't need you.
I crave you.
You make my day.
I want to hate you.
You're everywhere.
I need to get away.
I need to escape.
I need to find a way out.
I need let go.
You need to let me go.
We live on needs.
And wants.
Desires,
Thoughts
and depictions.
They always smile.
And we find a reason not to.
There's always something else.
Something to make us think-
To make us wonder.
To make us feel.
To make us numb.
To make us hollow.
To make us blank.
To make us hurt.
But then again,
You're still standing there.
You won't let me let go.

Please do.

Peace and Love,
Torii xoxo

Blank faces. Blank smiles.

Things change, i get it. I'm alright with that. I can move on- I can detach myself. But what i don't get is how you can just ignore me like that. One day you're up at one in the morning talking to me and then suddenly you just stop talking to me. You look at me as though im a cloud. You ignore me while acknowledging me at the same time. Why? All I need.. All I want is a reason. Just tell me why and let me move on!

I'm good at moving on. I always have been. But when you don't give me a reason to, i just don't manage. No matter how desperate i am to do so. I mean, you randomly find any excuse possible to talk to me and you talk to me for hours telling me about things which have nothing to do with me, let alone my general interests and now. Now it's just blank.

Blank faces. Blank smiles. Blank small talk. Blank feelings. Blank thoughts. Blank everything.

I miss how stuff used to be. When you'd pointlessly text me to tell me about how awesome it is abroad, when you'd comment on page just to try and make me go out that evening, when you'd spend hours chatting with me over msn and sending me music and above all when you'd talk to me.

Anywho, i'm off

Peace and Love
Torii xo.

But no one believed her.

What i have written below is a fragment. A guinnea pig. I might continue it, I might not.

"This evening, ladies and gentlemen, I would like you welcome our latest addition". Everyone in the circle clapped, some even whistled, at the young lady sitting in the north/west edge of the circle. She stood up and pushed a brown, wavy lock of hair behind her ear, flattened her black pencil skirt and introduced herself as the people around her quietened.
"Hi, I'm Ella-" She paused for a bit, trying to calm her nerves, and then her naturally hoarse voice continued "I'm 18, from Camden Town: I hear voices in my head, ugh different versions of my own?" With blaring cheeks, Ella sat down again and got back to staring at her feet as everyone resumed clapping.
"Thank you for sharing that with us, Ella," the dark skinned group instructor smiled, cleared her throat and resumed "Liam, perhaps you'd like to start today's session" "Yer, sure" He replied. "Very well then, how are you feeling this week? Any better?"
"Good evening, I'm Liam. This week i've minimized..." Liam, at age 20, was slightly on the tall side, had several interesting tattoos, and multiple piercings including a Septum, 14mm Flesh tunnel on his left ear, and an Industrial done on his right. He was there due to drug addiction, mainly L S D along with some other mild narcotics.

Let's leave it at that for the time being.

Peace and Love,
Torii xo

I don't care that you care that i don't care about what you care about.

I'm not joking.
And you don't make me laugh.
You barely make me smile,
I have to force one out.
So stop going on about your crap.
I'm not interested.
I don't care how you feel-
This is how i feel.
Deal with it.
Get over it.
I don't care about what you care about.
I'm not interested in what you say.
Stop faking everything-
Learn to be you.
Or at least learn who 'you' is.
Yes, 'is' not 'are' as it's a state of being.
Just shut up in general.
And leave me alone.
Honestly.

I just thought you should know that.

Peace and love,
Torii xo.

Ps. if you really don't get anything i said, just look up the color green. That's why i used it.