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.