A Universe of Flowers and Pus

Bones

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Fri, 11 May 2012 18:10:00 +0000

Fragile bones protruding on marble white flesh.
A neck of milk, a lovely lace of hollow clavicles
Adorning the smooth of her shoulders.
Cold fingertips graze her tender arms
Down to her elbows,
Down to her slender wrists.
It was a touch devoid of meaning
'Cause I touch her just to feel
Bones frigid yet brittle
Hiding beneath muscles and purple veins --
A labyrinth under a blanket of translucent skin.
She lay oblique on a garden of sheets
She lay still with a lifeless face
Slowly I trace her jawline and its shadows
Trace the sternum down
To a ruffle of ribs delicate as talc
I trace every bone, her every knuckle
Her pelvis and knees, her ankles and toes
Slowly I delve
Into the delicate outline of her being...
Slowly I stare
And watch this damned woman
Staring back and reaching for her own hand
Poking the opaque glass
Hoping like a fool that it's a portal to Eden.

Mother, mother, I am sick.

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Sat, 28 Apr 2012 21:56:00 +0000

Everybody wants to grow old. Everybody wants to live long and work hard. Everybody thinks about having kids, finding someone to spend forever with... Everybody thinks about the future. I don't get it.

I'm afraid of getting old. I'm afraid of wrinkles and gray hair. I'm afraid of losing my teeth. And I'm afraid of becoming a mother. I'm afraid of what my children will be like. I'm afraid of the future, because it's pitch black. Thinking about it is like entering a dark windowless room in the dead of the night. You don't know what's in there. You can imagine there are monsters inside. Or anything scattered on the floor. What if you trip and smash your face on the floor? You don't even know what the floor is like. What if there's poo and pee... what if you step on them with your bare feet?

Everybody wants to live, because everybody is looking forward to something. Everybody's working hard to get something. It's sad 'cause I don't fucking have that something. They call it a "goal". I don't fucking have that. I don't want to become anything. I don't want to go anywhere. I don't want any single fucking thing.

I'd say I want to be a writer. I want to do a film. I want to go to the mountains. Well guess what, I just "want" them for the sake of wanting something. Surprise! 'Cause I don't want to be here. I don't want what I am. I don't want this ability to think and understand what's happening. Call me what you want, yeah maybe I am sick. But if you'd ask me what I want, I just want my brain to stop. I don't want to see, hear, smell, feel, taste anything. I don't want to be able to do anything, not even moving a muscle or blinking an eye. I don't want anything and for that fact, I do want just one thing: to vanish. See, not wanting anything is a dangerous thing. I don't even want to move.

I would buy things I don't really need, do things I don't really know what I'm doing for. Just because I'm bored. Life is boring and all I want is to get out of it but I'm trapped in it because it holds everything! It's the only dimension my liquid brain knows, and now it doesn't know where else to go. It wants to vanish but does anybody even know how to actually get lost?!

Even this "vanishing cream" isn't what I need. It's just going to make you invisible, but you're still there. You still know where you are and where your body parts are, it's just that no one can see. How do you get lost? How would you die without any trace... without a corpse?

Tonight I just want to wallow in a deep black sleep... I'd wish that sleep is a blackhole and it would suck me in and take me somewhere no one would ever know, not even me. I'd close my eyes and see myself standing on a cliff. Everybody'd walk towards me and inch by inch, I'd step backwards... and then I'd fall. Everybody will be watching as I fall in slow motion. I'd fall and I'dstare into everybody's eyes, and everybody would stare back. I'd fall and sharp air would fill my ears, and my clothes and my hair would just brush against the trees on the cheeks of the cliff. And then I'd finally fall into the ocean - the fall would send out a violent splash like a missile. I'd fall further down under the water, but all everybody would see is the surface. Voila. I am gone then. Everybody wouldn't know where I am. Me, too.

That's what I want. I'm sick and there's no cure. So give me that.

Wonders of the Mouth

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Sun, 08 Apr 2012 19:16:00 +0000

When you fill your cheeks with air, where does the air come from? Is it breath? Imagine, you can fill your cheeks with air out of nowhere, but you can't make that air vanish! You need to open your mouth to release it.

. . .

Just a moment ago, I was gulping some water from a bottle when suddenly I felt like I needed to belch a little. Just a little, okay? Like, there's some air in my throat that I need to let out before swallowing the water that I'm drinking. So, I did let out the air and then gulped in the water -- without opening my mouth. So... where did the air go?!

. . .

Meh. What do I know about science.

Your argument is invalid

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Wed, 28 Mar 2012 17:41:00 +0000

Isang araw, sumakay ako ng bus. Umupo. Maya-maya ay nilapitan na ako ng konduktor. Inabot ko ang buo kong pera na 500 pesos.

Konduktor: "Wala ka bang barya?"

Ako: "Magkano ba ang pamasahe?"

Konduktor: "52 pesos."

Ako: "Bakit, barya ba ang 52 pesos? Ha?"

Konduktor: "Kumpara sa pera mong 500, barya lang yun."

...

Ako: "Kahit na!"

Samakatuwid ay tinanggap pa rin ng konduktor ang pera kong 500 at pagkalipas ng ilang saglit ay binigay na niya ang sukli ko.

Lumipas ang mahabang byahe at sa wakas ay bababa na ako. Tumayo na ako at lumapit sa may pintuan.

Ako: "Sa tabi lang po."

Driver: "Teka lang itatabi lang."

Ako: "Sabi ko nga 'di ba 'sa tabi lang'?"

...

Driver: "Kahit na!"

Pumara naman siya in fairness.

Big White Dress

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Sun, 11 Mar 2012 04:38:00 +0000

Lift my veil
And touch my thick fake lashes
As I throw my glass heels to the lake.

In the sunkissed grass, we sit and roll.
Let me wallow
in these endless ripples of white fabric.

Come with me
In this vast ocean of satin
and petticoat.

Let's swim and drown
In this big white cloth.

Weary

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Sun, 11 Mar 2012 04:33:00 +0000

Flying ashes.
Dust in your eyes.
Dried leaves swirling with the wind.
Old jeepneys farting thick black smoke.

Everything kills.
Sometimes everything wears you out.
You just walk.
And you don't feel your feet anymore.

Psycho Sunday

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Wed, 07 Mar 2012 19:38:00 +0000

gonna put a chainsaw
between your legs
and let it do the work
all the way up to your zenith
until you fall apart
into two pieces
of symmetrical figures.

you're gonna scream:
"OMG, OMG, Oh-Em-Gee!!!"
but nobody's gonna help you
'cause darling, they're all scared of me.

Mommy

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Wed, 22 Feb 2012 17:31:00 +0000

A mother and her little girl with Down's Syndrome. The child was clean and all dressed up. They were strolling in the mall, laughing together.

The child's laughter... so priceless and pure. Teeth and gums bared out without shame. She laughed, holding her mother's hand...

They looked happy, without a doubt. But we all know. The mother knows. In this cruel world, amongst people, witless, judging, and devoid of compassion, her little girl will grow up. She will not be little anymore, and she will suffer.

But right in this moment, she's still her little girl. And they walk hand in hand, laughing without a care.

where art thou

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Sat, 11 Feb 2012 16:04:00 +0000

i lay in bed
all day
without bath
without food and drink
and i leave the doors open
to invite the criminal mind
to come inside
and find a lone prey
spreadeagle
on the crumpled sheets
amongst the dog shit
and puddles of dog piss.

he will come in
black clad
his knife will gleam in the dark.

spreadeagle
i will listen to his footsteps
anticipate
for the creak of my door.

at the sight of his tall shadow
i will close my eyes
and the skin of my back
shall earnestly wait
for the kiss
of a metal blade.

girl.

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Wed, 08 Feb 2012 16:48:00 +0000

i tried
to grow balls...

but i am just a girl.
i cry at night.

White

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Sat, 04 Feb 2012 16:08:00 +0000

White sheets.
Big fluffy white pillows.
White flowing curtains.
White walls.
White carpet.
White ceiling.
White everything.
Everything white and untainted.

In my white shirt and white undies,
I lay my big fluffy hair on the big fluffy white pillows
And rub my white feet
and my white legs
against the silky white crumpled sheets.

In this cold white room
Beneath the glow of white fluorescent
I bury my white face
In these white white sheets.

What Have I Not

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 18:03:00 +0000

There was no music. Just the whispering breeze. The swishing of the trees. Water trickling from a nearby spring. Footsteps, crunching dried leaves and rocks.

But everywhere was a work of art. Finely sculpted hillsides. The horizon so perfect as it would appear in a postcard, or a painting. I wished you could see all the wonder that surrounded me; a feast for my eyes and soul. Clouds touched my face. Cold, gentle strokes brushed against my cheeks. The skies were everclear, everything within sight was flooding with pure beauty. Everything. And I was overwhelmed with awe. The place was heaven. Nothing in it was ugly. Not even the insects. Not even the flakes of crushed foliage. Beautiful things surrounded me, embraced my frailties, conquered my stupid fears. Yet I panted like a dog.

In broad daylight I thought I was gonna faint in the middle of that endless road of stones and mud. With the scorching sun above my head and an unfathomable cliff by my side that followed me everywhere, I felt like I was gonna fall into infinity until the depths of the mountains finally swallow me whole. I was hoping to fall and hit my skull against a giant rock, or for a beast to lounge out of the bushes and devour me altogether.

In the dead of the night, I shivered helplessly despite the thick sheets. My lips were caked. My icy fingers felt like crunchy pretzel sticks that could snap and break into pieces anytime. I thought I was gonna freeze to death. I expected to die there. I wanted to live there, or die right then. I hated to go back to the real world, because right there was the real world. Everything in it was real. The mountains in all its grandeur. It seemed like the entirety of Kingdom Plantae was right before me. Everything I could see was made by God. Nothing tarnished, nothing that could remind me of the chaotic city life.

Nothing there to remind me of you.

Still I wrote this all thinking of you, longing to call for your rescue as I finally slipped from a slimy stone and fell off and rolled down the slope of the woods, rolled over and over again... it seemed endless, but the smell of death came nearer and nearer every second. As my skull crashed into a white rock larger than life, I lay face down, there, in a nowhere. I was reduced to nothing but a lost corpse among dead trees and dried leaves. I was just a speck, a lifeless dot in the midst of the vast grassland. Nobody found me. Mother nature had buried me herself in her own navel. Hence I am forever gone, privileged to have rotten amongst the pieces of the forest which I have obsessed about all my life, but deprived of the one chance to bid you goodbye. I wish I could sneak into your room tonight, seep through the space between your door and the ground... Tower over you, float above your bed and watch you sleep, kiss you in the forehead and lay my desperate ghost by your side for the last time.

But I wrote this all with tangible hands. The sadness is real. I am alive. I got out of the mountains alive and unscathed. I am headed home, back into the city. That ugly place where people only care about money and dolled-up sluts. Soon I will be reunited with my cold bed. I will be home and you will not be there. You never were.

listen

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 18:43:00 +0000

i hear everything
in vivid detail
the gush of wind
the ticking of the clock
i hear every breath
every heartbeat
every movement
through my dog ears.

Each piece a lovely corpse

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 06:36:00 +0000

She was found there lifeless in the woods, lying among the crisp autumn leaves. The trees casted perfect shadows on her moonpale face, the orange gleam of the dying sunset pricked through the spaces between leaves and barks, exactly as she had envisioned. Her caked lips were parted; she seemed to have died agape as her stiff fingers clung to the thin white gauze that is the gown that she wore. It was then covered in filth for slabs of soil had filled her nails. The soles of her feet were bleeding still -- she must have run barefooted across the stones. And probably tripped there. And smashed her head on a rock. No one knows. The trees wouldn't speak. The place was devoid of breath and movement, denied even of the rustling wind. There was no sound. She used to listen to the orchestra of a nearby stream and birds singing. She loved flowing water. And dancing foliage. The green of the leaves she loved the most. But where she finally perished was indeed a lifeless dusk. Even the trees were dead. Everywhere you looked it was dry and sterile. But it was still the earth. She lay there in eternal slumber, sturdy as she had always been, empathic to the emptiness of that vast expanse of mother nature with whom she had at last become one.

Everywhere you looked it was dry and sterile. But it was still the earth. It was the earth in its purest form, nothing in it that was not created by God. It was bare and dispossessed of vibrance, yet it was still beautiful.

Rabbit Bear Penguin Unicorn Cactus Carrot Potato

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 08:04:00 +0000

What is it in rabbits that make people high? When rabbits are cute, we feel so light and we giggle and suddenly we're so happy. When rabbits are mating we laugh 'cause we think that's the only thing they do in their lives other than eating. But when we think about other cute animals - a panda or a koala bear for instance - they're funny but it's because we think all they do is eat and sleep; though they also mate, right? But they're not famous for it. Rabbits are. But rabbits sleep, too - they're just not famous for it.

Rabbits also remind us of Alice. And then of Jefferson Airplane. And then of acid. Rabbits are psychedelic. Have you ever watched the Energizer bunny marching around in circles with its drum without feeling a bit fcked inside? In thrillers, when we see the killers or the pedophiles wearing rabbit mascot costumes we sense the danger... the evil! If they wore a bear costume instead, it won't be as scary but when it's a rabbit... I don't know! It's odd and sinister and yeah it makes you shudder... it's like it carries some sort of foreboding... fck, why do you think is that? It's just a damn rabbit! And rabbits are damn cute in real life.

Maybe that's it. They're too cute that when they're portrayed as monsters, they get scary for real. 'Cause shit! How would you explain that! They must really be possessed by the devil, right?! Right. That's it. Because yes, bears are cute in real life, too, but they also are scary because they eat people and they can scratch open our tummies and pull out our intestines in the blink of an eye - I've seen that on youtube. Rabbits can't do that. They can't even make a sound. And have you ever even seen two rabbits fighting? I haven't. All I know is that they just make lots of babies...

And oh, when we see a lazy panda bear or any other fat bear, it's funny but, that's just about it. But when we see rabbits jumping, we feel like chuckling and jumping with them, right? Or is it just me? No other animal can make me feel high in different ways like a rabbit could.

Oh wait. A penguin. HAHAHAHAHA damn penguins. Why are they even given that funny name? Well, "rabbit" also sounds funny. "Bear" doesn't. What a loser.

I'm not crazy.

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 17:25:00 +0000

Watch me
Enjoying my cigarette.
I'm happy;
I'd do you a pirouette.

I won't
Twirl.
I won't
Move a goddamn muscle.

I'm not
Happy.

I'm not
Smoking a goddamn cigarette.

You're not
Watching
Me.

Silly
Fuck.

Scared

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 06:35:00 +0000

i am afraid of frogs.

i am afraid of cockroaches.

i am afraid of things

that move swiftly in unpredictable directions.

i am afraid of explosions.

i am afraid of elevator doors

that suddenly shut close.

i am afraid of getting hit.

i am afraid of getting fat.

i am afraid of getting old.

i am afraid of losing things.

i am afraid of losing people.

i am afraid of the truth.

i am afraid of lies.

i am afraid of you.

i am afraid of all of them.

i am not afraid of death.

i am afraid of life,

and all its underlying harm.

Happy New Year! Ratatat! Kaboom Boom! Look at my Puñeta Room

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Sun, 01 Jan 2012 15:26:00 +0000

remember

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Sun, 25 Dec 2011 16:32:00 +0000

what is it to remember? what good does remembering do to you? you have memories. and then what? look back into all of them. and then what? cry over spilled milk? or milk that didn't even exist. spit.

you can't do things right, right now, because you are NOT inside of "right now". you are so busy reminiscing the past, too busy imagining what you wish will happen later or tomorrow, and all you can do RIGHT NOW is absent-mindedly make endless mistakes. wake up. stop dreaming. just fucking LIVE.

of life losing luster

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 19:48:00 +0000

life used to lure me with attractive possibilities.

and then you came and went, and all of a sudden life has lost its luster.

every object and every place and every piece of life in this world used to have its own definition.

but you came, and all the objects and places suddenly became synonymous to all that you are.

you came. you meant the world to me.

and you went away.

and everything lost its meaning.

High Heels

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 14:52:00 +0000

Battered my feet
Drained all my strength
Scraped off my skin
but I won't repent

For beauty is pain
And beauty is all
I'd pray I won't fall
I'd pray I won't roll

I carry these heels
With my heart and soul
Obsessed with perfection
'Cause I'm plain and small

And I need attention
I'm one lonely whore
I've got eyes on me
I'd suffer for more

Grindcore

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 15:15:00 +0000

These four begrimed walls of a fetid bathroom
Ensconced my evil soul in foreboding and doom.
The dim yellow light concealed all the mold
But still its lewd memories stayed vivid and gold.
I came in bleeding, yearning to purge and wither;
Instinct led my face into the puce toilet water;
Worms and roaches soon swarmed into my ears;
I wallowed in apathy for I had no more fears...
This had no meaning, I craved not for death,
Yet I thirsted for vomit and hungered for meth
Angered by nothing, all bloated in grass,
Ripped open my cunt and the hole of my ass;
Blood and feces splattered all over the floor...
I licked them and swallowed in the name of gore.

my breasts and my brain are MUTEX

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Wed, 16 Nov 2011 17:31:00 +0000

THE SIZE OF MY BREASTS IS INVERSELY PROPORTIONAL TO THE SIZE OF MY BRAIN.

OKAY.

MY BREASTS ARE... JUST RIGHT. NOT TOO LARGE, NOT TOO SMALL.

SO.

MY BRAIN IS EITHER TOO LARGE OR TOO SMALL.

MY BRAIN HEAVES.

FLUCTUATES.

SOMETIMES, IT'S TOO LARGE.

SOMETIMES, IT'S TOO SMALL.

BUT MOST OF THE TIME...

I'M JUST A STUPID LITTLE GIRL.

YEAH.

THE TRUTH IS:

I HAVE BREASTS.

AND I DON'T HAVE A BRAIN.

THAT IS SHIT.

I HAVE A BRAIN

'CAUSE I THINK THINGS.

I OVERTHINK.

I BELIEVE IN THINGS THAT AREN'T EVEN THERE.

I THOUGHT THIS WAS THIS AND THAT WAS THAT.

I THINK ABOUT HELL AND I THINK ABOUT FUCK.

MY BRAIN THINKS ABOUT THINGS ALL THE TIME,

WHILE MY BREASTS DO NOTHING.

black coat

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Tue, 08 Nov 2011 17:17:00 +0000

tonight i'm gonna wear a black coat and walk the midnight streets as if i am the bride of dracula escaping our cheap motel room after all the honeymoon and bloodsucking rituals.

i don't know what else to write after that.

i just want to wear a black coat.
that's all.

Brian and Stephanie

noreply@blogger.com (keytihelow) — Wed, 02 Nov 2011 17:07:00 +0000

July 4, 1996 - Brian was born. He was just a six-month old fetus. I was an only child then (eight years old), and I was so excited to finally have a brother. But after two days, my brother died...

July 3, 1999 - My mother delivered another child, a beautiful baby girl we named Stephanie. An eight-month old fetus, she was already lifeless the moment she came out into the world.

We may have never had the chance to see their first smile, their first tooth, the first time they'd crawl, and walk... we may have never had the chance to hear their first words, their baby talk... yeah, we never had the chance to see them grow up. We don't have any photographs together. But I know they are even happier than we all are now, because they are together, up there in heaven, in the arms of God.

...

And God may have whispered to my mother: "but wait, there's more!"

May 21, 2000 - Cassandra was unleashed into this crazy earth. A pink, tiny eight-month old fetus with an almost perfect Apgar score. Rakenrol! \m/