Sometimes we wish we’re somewhere else but here. So here I am elsewhere on the internet.

I watch a lot of TV shows and movies, listen to a lot of music, and read a few books. So here’s a tumblr blog hoping I could organize all those reviews. 

That’s it.

Sometimes I’m just here, pretending I am really here.

read this against a Tchaikovsky background music

One fateful afternoon, I sat bored facing Reddit. This is work. Now I don’t have to worry about that work anymore. Welcome me in your loving arms couch culture. I’m officially a sloth. Anyway back to that one afternoon, I came across something called “Alt Lit” maybe my poor third world radar did not pick it up as early as it’s heydays. I was not inb4 Alt Lit. Or was I?

How do you even define Alt Lit or Alternative Literature? It is the Bjork of the grunge era? Is the Beatniks with Macbooks instead of typewriters? Or they could still be using typewriters and take photos of the texts with their iphones after. However it is defined, it is quite interesting. Internet poetry. Almost an oxymoron. I care not to explain this. My head is throbbing so bad I can’t grasp the exact pieces of what I actually meant. Blah. Blah. Blah. And I stumbled upon this guy named Steve Roggenbuck, watched this video.

Against a Tchaikovsky overture.

I kind of cried. Kind of, I am quick to hold my tears back these days. I hate emotions. I have became too hateful. Too dark. Too clouded. Too heavy. Too robotic. I can’t remember the last time I gave someone a complement. This guy’s positivity is actually contagious.

Anger is a disgusting moat that traps you in, and when you scream for someone to pull you to cleaner surface, only then you’ll be free of that dirt that sticks under your skin.

Just like every entry on this blog this one also goes nowhere. I hate structure. It limits my thoughts. Think outside the box. Which box? The internet? This room? My bed? There is no box. There’s me, Tchaikovsky, and the lingering feeling I have after seeing an internet video that makes me want to go out there at one in the morning scream at the world “I’M SORRY WORLD. I NEED A HUG.”

For the sake of discussion and word count, life is not boring, go ahead and blog away and define a revolutionary form of ‘literature”. I just wanted to walk on through to the brighter side. Notice how I used the word hate too much? How about I clean my vocabulary and use positive words instead. I love Alt Lit. I love how they sprinkle fairy dust in a place full of racist, homophobic and sexist people. I love how I messy my hand gets when I am eating a fresh ripe mango fruit. I love how I could hear my teeth sink in it’s yellow flesh. I love how I remember I actually have a favorite fruit. I love how I actually have a favorite something. At least that is something. At least. Wait. That’s a negative word. Is it? Is mediocrity negative?

Well today it is. Both.

Anyone wants to take me in for a month? I can make a decent sandwich.


This is me unclothed,

hair rustling against the water drops,

Showering in thoughts,

it flows, it goes, and it loops.

This is me drenched,

lips shivering in the cold,

Healing myself with solitude,

it loops, it ends and it’s cured.

This is me refreshed,

calmed in the silenced rush,

Stepping out of a space,

it’s cured, it stops and it’s closed.