Words are cheap, make your life clean

“You are it for me, the one and only for me. My other half.”

“I love you more than anything in this world.”

“I will never stop loving you.”

“I wanna grow old and grey with you.”

So romantic, huh? Who believes all these? Come on, don’t be shy, raise your hand. I see five hands in the air, oh! ten…thirty…fifty! All I can say is, been there, done that uh huh.

Now, who here has been deceived by sweet sugary diabetic words? *raises hand*

Never a dull moment in life. People come and go. Moments passed. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, years passed and there’s always something lurking in the corner of the street, waiting to jump at you. Life’s a bitch indeed.

It is true, physical wounds can be healed, but wounds caused by words? Worst case scenario is it’s incurable. Ta-da! How many times in life you have been promised things but ended up with nothing but heartache? It’s so frickin overrated. Mom and Dad made empty promises, friends talked bullshit, BFFs flaked out, and got jilted by lovers. Not a new story.

This post is not meant to offer solutions, words of comfort or whatsoever. This is a bitter truth talk. Focus on doing what you love, what you want to accomplish in life, you are your own pilot, other people are just passersby. After all the lies, you should know better than to lean on other people. No matter how close you are with someone/some people, no matter how much you trust them, NEVER, EVER give away yourself 100%. You gotta reserve some part of yourself for yourself. Ok I’m out. xD buh-bye.



She is now back in the arms of the angel

96 years, 1 month, 15 days. She was here. She existed. She lived.

On one fine day back in August 28, 1919, Emma Augusta was born into this world. I believe the angels cried and bawled their eyes out for they had to send one of their very own down to a place called Earth.

72 years, 21 days later, I was born. It was a wednesday. How did I end up with a good voice? Tale said that night she was coaching a female choir at our church. Go figure! 🙂

When I was a toddler, she was the first person to introduce me to the exciting English language. She was also the first person to read me bedtime stories. Now no wonder I ended up with a head full of imagination.

As I grew older, I did not spend as much time with her as it was before. However, her wisdom, her ideas, her legacy stayed with me up until this very second. You can see her in every little thing I do.

I was pulled down into the rabbit hole when family told me she was hospitalized. For me, She had always be an immortal figure who would always be there. She would never fade away. Truth be told, life was slowly taking her one step at a time away from me. To witness her holding on tightly down to the very last essence of life, was a humbling experience. I remember vividly, in her deathbed, how she sang beautifully songs of praise and submission to the Almighty God. She even carefully planned how her 97th birthday should be celebrated: one white fruity cake and one chocolate cake, slice them into pieces and serve each on a paper plate; Do not cook difficult foods, just easy ones.

Aah, how I miss her . .




On July 13 2016, she was given back her wings and she soared to heaven to be reconciled with the angels. I am pretty sure they threw one heck of a party to welcome her back. As Sarah McLahlan beautifully sung it..

In the arms of the angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear

You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You’re in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here

Rest in peace my beloved angel: Emma Augusta Soselisa – Matakupan, 08.28.1919 – 07.13.2016.

Life of a good-bad little man

There is something weird in life where two lives collide and create a spark so majestic, it turns the whole world upside down. Shake it right down the core as they say it. I am a good-bad little man, I live, I exist, I believe. This is a story of my goodness, this is a story of my badness, this is a story of my good-bad life, I am a good-bad little man.

I watch this old world gets older, but I am not so sure it gets wiser. Is it the people or the Earth? It is baffling, I am trying to decide which is which. I think people are good actors. People many a times smile, but cry behind closed doors. Other times, they smile, but curse and cuss behind the joker mask. Poker face as the ever-popular female singer called Lady Gaga define it. See, Lady Gaga. It is an oxymoron. A lady is someone with exceptional beauty and grace while a gaga is someone cuckoo and probably has flushed his mind down the toilet. Hi hi hi.

Another example is myself. I am a good-bad little man. Good contradicts bad. Bad does not sit well with good. Maybe that means I am bad but I try to be good? Or the other way around. Nevertheless, I am a good-bad little man.

If you think about it, why do people fall in love? why does a person feel an attraction to another? all jumble up into one big mystery called life. I am a good-bad man, I intend to reveal and dismantle the tale that is as old as time, the mystery of life.

In silence

In a narrow alley way
In the midst of pitch darkness
Dark creatures are hiding behind thinly veiled serenity
Waiting to be found
Swallowing life’s very essence
In silence…
Emptiness, life is full of nothingness
I’m smiling but tearing up inside
Heart and soul
Lust in lost
No way to get lost in lust
In silence…
Both worlds are not enough
I need to a grip on my sanity
Otherwise I would just wither and die
In silence…

Through Parks and Rivers: A Quick Love Story

Lust and Wandering

Let me tell you a story.

It all started with a short walk that turned into a long one, until the kilometers just kept on adding up. By the Pear River he and I walked –

Through the blistering heat of noon,
By the vibrant canvas of sunset,
Shivering a bit from the cold of winter nights,
Basking in the silence of balmy summer dawns.



Somewhere along those kilometers, I chanced upon the glorious sight of his grey eyes, flecked with yellow looking so ardent as he explained the elements of what makes a sunset beautiful (“It’s not the sun per se, but the perfect merging of wispy clouds and fiery lavender skies”) and I knew…

I was forever lost in his depths, like a coin tossed into the murky waters of the Zhu Jiang.



Little did I know, somewhere along the countless backstreets, parks, markets, temples, and…

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POEM: Birdy Bird


It’s been a while, huh? Matter of fact it’s been too long, I totally forgot my username and password! Matter of fact when I finally logged in, my dashboard was all dusty. I even saw a patch of weeds in the upper-right corner! haha

Anyway, a shaft of light from up above struck me with inspiration and I thought I should resume my creative writing!

This Poem is a special one. It is actually about a person, someone I know. I am not going to disclose that someone’s personal information, okay?! So, this ‘bird’ is an adult male who acts and thinks like a toddler. I do  not want to refer him as stupid. I think he is okay. Maybe he is naive or innocent. I do not know! It is just that his ‘innocence’ is aggravating! Most of the time I want to strangle him! or maybe bitch-slap him so hard his teeth fall off! But at the same time, his ‘innocence’ gives me so much fun and joy and laughter! Let me laugh a good laugh as my homage to birdy bird: HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!


source: deviantart

Birdy bird,
I am whistling out to mother nature
reaching out to birdy bird
little birdy in the sky
color my life with a touch of laughter
flying around in circle
making tiny little chirpy chirp
oh, I am having so much fun!

Birdy bird,
tell me, who in the world are you?
kid me not, I want to know
Because you are so funny
but a tad too looney
oh, this is too much fun!

Birdy bird,
thank you, really!
oh, there is no end to this fun!