People

My friends will kill my people
My people will kill my friends
My friends are my people
My people are my friends

They strap them with guns and bullets
They plant them in tanks and artilleries
They chain them in scarves and helmets
They force students to write history

I don’t want my friends to write history
History is written by the dead
Let students study history
As my people bury the dead

My people hate my people
My friends hate my friends
They spray them with waves of lead
My friends want my people dead

My people want me angry
My friends my feelings dead
They want me raging with fury
But which are my people and who are my friends?

Oh, the number of times I’ve mumbled this to myself in between attempting to sew my thoughts into organized tapestry and making a complete fool out of myself.

Many are familiar with the situation: you’re with someone you like, at that stage of your still unconfessed (if ever) passion for each other, and trying to disperse the sexual tension in the air. So what do you do? Naturally, sprinkle a glass of sparkling awkwardness. Whether it’s an unrelated, out-of-the-blue sentence, a misplaced glance, a nervous gesture, or forced silence (that awful awful silence), it seems that I,  like many human beings, have been programmed to excel in awkwardness – it comes so very naturally I rarely need to work at it.

So I’ve decided to embrace my awkwardness. No, mine isn’t the “if you can’t beat them, join them”  retreat. It is the victor’s stance. The almighty’s final say. That’s because, to begin with, I’ve created awkwardness, not it me. Secondly, I develop it in as many different directions as I see fit. I can play with it as I please.

Of course, the only thing I cannot control is its death. Once I let it out into the world, it becomes its own master, and its only killer. As long as awkwardness decides to live, no one can stop it. The only option you have is to convince it of committing suicide.

But here’s what I’ve learned about it: it rarely feels the urge to take its own life, no matter what you tell it. It’s a survivor and an ignorer of other’s opinions. Very self-confident – which is probably due to its cheerful attitude. For whenever I try to quiet it down, it laughs heartily and mischievously announces that it’s ready for another round.  These observations have lead me to appreciate this creation of mine – a perpetual dancer, clinging to life like a madman flees it.

So here’s a cheers to my Awkwardness.

I say: Blend with it! And if it causes you too much trouble, join it in its laughter, turning yourselves into two little naughty boys, giggling fearfully at their neighbour’s stolen apricots.

It’s a part of you, it’s beautiful.

awkwardness is a lake reflecting the whiteness of the trees

1. It makes me explore as many youtube videos as possible.
2. It encourages me to read as many news posts as possible.
3. It inspires me to read as many blog posts as possible.
4. It leads me to take a walk in the fresh air (to unwind and stuff).
5. It guides me through the blissful road of empty contemplation.
6. It makes me drink more water.
7. It makes me eat more.
8. It makes me think about how futile life is.
9. And then think of ways to avoid such thoughts in the future.
10. It makes me create a blog.
11. It makes me wonder as to why in the world is 10 a magic number.
12. And why I couldn’t come up with real 12 points explaining the choice of this new god.

Anyway, I should get back to my work, err, procrastination.
Any personal experiences you’d like to share concerning this god are most welcome in here.
For after all, isn’t this what blog worship is for?
Long live procrastination.