Voldemort (if Harry's not around).

He's the one that nobody speaks of,
The one that all is afraid to mention,
Needless to say,
He haunts their mind in every dimension.

He roams through their body,
Like the chilly air at night,
Leaving goosebumps into their skin
With an expression of a dead knight.

In the darkness,
He watches their agonies,
As they struggle on their knees,
Begging him to let them be.

He laughs loudly,
While pretending he could not hear
The screeching pain they could no longer bare,
Completely trapping them in his deathly air.

Smugness crawls in his loathsome face,
Eerie satifaction fills his empty heart,
Triumph never felt this great.


Note: I was looking through my magazine entries (for MTHS' Velleity, where I was the editor haha), and I found this poem that I wrote out of boredom. I was at Borders one day, and a local band called The Zoo Human Project - which I recommend for everyone - sang a song called "Voldemort," and I really liked the story behind the song. So when I got home that night, I felt inspired to write a different version, and voila, here's my version - way different from their song.


<3Jhay

Notebook.

My thoughts are compiled in a raggedy old notebook, in which you may think is a junk that needed to be thrown away, and when I say away, I meant far into the depth of the ocean, where men who enjoys the exploration of the unknown wouldn't pursue. It is ragged all right, with its bent corners and leaves sticking out in every direction possible, in fact, ragged would be an understatement. If a stranger gives it a glance, he may think that the only use of this notebook is to protect the concrete ground from the mighty hot moist gift that his dog regularly presents him. Just goes to show, that one man's trash is another’s treasure, and I mean it. To a stranger my notebook would not bring him anything worth keeping, but to me, every leaf, every line, every space is heaven. Once my utensil touches its delicate leaf, the feeling of being alive runs through my temple as the hot rush of blood travels in my veins, its like, this notebook brings me life, even hope in humanity - humanity which I often question. This piece of junk holds the actions that I took, words that I spoke, thoughts that continuously gyrate my mind; it tenderly, yet protectively grasps the mysterious chapters of this thing I call my life. Yet, no matter how much I try to explain its value (to me), nobody will ever understand or even try to comprehend the words that are scribbled down in every page it contains. I am starting to believe that I am from another planet or I write in some ancient language or hieroglyphics that the greatest linguist would not be able to decipher. Despite this fact, I religiously scribe the chapters of my "novel" in its limited space. I squeeze the words together, putting them in every angle possible, and writing them microscopically in order to fit my life in this notebook everyone seem to kick around because it happens to remind them of a tatterdemalion, and to add to my dismay, none of them ever tried unraveling the mystery behind its frumpish cover.


P.S.
I just felt like blogging, so I came up with something. Enjoy!


Jhay

Russian Lawmakers irk me.

*To enlarge the image, click the link: BLOG.

So, I have stumbled upon that blog a couple of minutes ago, and I felt obliged to state my opinion through my blog. First things first, I would like to say that I am nowhere near from being “EMO,” though the description given fits me in some ways. No, I do not cut myself nor do I sit at a corner and bawl my eyes out. However, the fashion/clothing description is something you will see me wearing. I wear a lot of black (from shirts to jeans), my nails are painted black, I have an Emo/Scene haircut (crazily layered/fringes, I need to trim it), I have dark hair (almost jet-black, soon will be having coon tails), I have studded belt (that I wear most of the time), and I wear chucks.

With that being said, I am utterly offended with Russia’s idea of what “EMO” is because not everyone who wears those clothing items, have those piercings or have the hairstyle are instantly “EMO.” They are ridiculing the people who fits the description because they are rashly pointing out that those people are depress or suicidal. I feel like they are placing certain people in a certain social group – stereotype. Physical appearance does not define a person.


Banning “EMO” only creates a bigger issue out of it because it will offend many – obviously, since I don’t live their and I already feel offended. I can just picture the teens rebelling against this law leading to a mass destruction – well not a mass destruction, but something close to that. In addition, I don’t see the point of following through with this ideology for anyone can take away the “EMO” trend, but there is no way in hell that anyone could take away the emotions. Somehow, the Russian government are promoting unfair judgment, and depriving their citizens of freedom of expression. They show their thirst for control, telling - well more like dictating - their people how to dress. Gally, controlling much?

I am mystified by their plan. I cannot comprehend the reasons behind their attempt of eliminating a trend, a fashion statement. There are more important issues that need to be tackled, which includes the battle they have against Georgia – a much important matter that infuriates me.

I know this problem should not matter to me because I don’t live there nor do I want to visit the country – no offense. Nevertheless, the idea triggered a nerve that leads me to crave to express my opinion about it. There is only one thing that I want to say:

To ban “EMO” is to ban individuality.


Outspoken,

Jhay