Tuesday, August 30, 2011

My Seoul Longs for You

Away, far far away... from the land that caressed my Seoul.
Four years, 16 seasons of Winter through Fall. I don't
want to forget anything about her. The streets. The traffic.
The cherry blossoms of Spring. The heat of Summer. The
leaves changing colors in the middle of Autumn. The people.
The hellishly cold Winter. The slab of ice on the street that
never melts for 3 months. The food... oh, yes! The food! The
city that never sleeps. Seoul, my friend you hold in your heart
all those people so dear to me. Yes, the people. My friends.
My Seoul longs for you. I reach deep into my inner being
to find that place where you'll never be forgotten. You remind
me that you are always with me. You are now and forever...
My Seoul!

Monday, May 30, 2011

Origin: Inside (Part II)

J.L.Only imagines raw emotions and
attributes them to words. He gathers these
varieties of color to paint images and
stories that chronicle the journey of the
M.G. (Multi-Galaxy) Craft.

J.L.Only connects the fragments
from the multiverse and constitutes in it a
micro portion that may be an eye to the
multiverse itself, for all to see. The
fuel for the M.G. Craft.

Friday, May 6, 2011

Origin (Part I)

B. Luis Grey is a large robot that I live in. He's got
a huge door in the center of his chest. Large enough
for a human to step through. He's as large as a
house with legs that are spring loaded. He can leap
over buildings and crush boulders with his fisted punch.
He is a mobile fortress that can't be penetrated.
Grey tell's the stories. He is the glue to our narrative.

Monday, April 11, 2011

j. l. only: the light

eventually the light is visible through the
tunnel vision of darkness. the harshness
of a desperately fatigued soul finds a place
to rest his head. a place to make his bed.
a time to awake from the patterns of a
recluse. the reason for the abuse extremely
over rated. the same self degrading abuse
is stripped off like the shedding of old skin.
disposed of... this is the unfolding of a
message kept hidden on paper, stashed away
for years until only words scribbled as text
show some form of tears. if only in text, it
will have to suffice. eventually, hopefully, in
our desperate of times we will find the light.

Saturday, April 2, 2011

J.L.Only: Reason

The only reason
there's no anger
is the only
reason... for lost.
The only reason
to stay complete
is the sanity
of my reason.
The only feelings
lost is the
only feeling gone
that's the only
song that can
satisfy your empty
reasons of Only's

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Tired # Sleepy # 77 #

one . two . three . four . five . six . seven . eight . nine . ten . eleven . twelve . thirteen . fourteen. fifteen . sixteen . seventeen . eighteen . nineteen . twenty . twenty one . twenty two . twenty three . twenty four . twenty five . twenty six . twenty seven . twenty eight . twenty nine . thirty . thirty one . thirty two . thirty three . thirty four . thirty five . thirty six . thirty seven . thirty eight . thirty nine . forty . forty one . forty two . forty three . forty four . forty five . forty six . forty seven . forty eight . forty nine . fifty . fifty one . fifty two . fifty three . fifty four . fifty five . fifty six . fifty seven . fifty eight . fifty nine . sixty . sixty one . sixty two . sixty three . sixty four . sixty five . sixty six . sixty seven . sixty eight . sixty nine . seventy . seventy one . seventy two . seventy three . seventy four . seventy five . seventy six . 77 . seventy eight . seventy nine . eighty . eighty one . eighty two . eighty three . eighty four . eighty five . eighty six . eighty seven . eighty eight . eighty nine . ninety . ninety one . ninety two . ninety three . ninety four . ninety five . ninety six . ninety seven . ninety eight . ninety nine . one hundred . one hundred one .

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Her & I

Obsessed, Addicted,
infatuated... Will this
uncontrollable feeling of
love ever cease? Maybe,
a little of my heart dies everyday.
Maybe... its a desire to be
with someone I can't have.
The day she rejected me
for the last time, a
little piece of me died. Still
I can't cry. Time passes.
I tried. Now it all ends. I
say "goodbye" to the dreams
of her and I.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

J. L. Only: Why

Why would you want him back? Five months too late. You’ve
already started to date. He’s had plenty of chances and now
he wants you back? Tell him it’s too late.

I don’t see why she doesn’t want me.

He’s selfish and obsessed because you moved on. He just can’t
stand to see you happy with anybody else. He should of thought
about that before he let you get away.

I don’t see why she doesn’t want me.

He’s lazy and unmotivated. What kind of life could he offer you
when all he knows is the easy way. He’s got no heart. His idea’s
are fantasies painted on imaginary clouds.

I don’t see why she doesn’t want me.

He thinks that he can be the best for you. He’s wrong. Your life
doesn’t need him to be complete... let alone satisfied. Your life
is fully complete and he’s just broken.

I don’t see why she doesn’t want me.

Damaged goods are not a gift to be held up in esteem. Let what’s
been severed be left as it is. His exaggerated life will only keep
you desiring everything without him.

I don’t see why she doesn’t want me.

He’s a drunk and proud of the amount that he can drink. As if that
was something to adhere to. The audacity of him to think that
you actually need him. Don’t turn back to him.

I don’t see why she doesn’t want me.

Your past was filled with arguments. One argument after the other.
Haven’t you had enough of that? Don’t make the same mistake by
considering the possibility that you love him.

I don’t see why she doesn’t want me.

He says that he loves you and can’t live life without you. If that
was true then why did he let the breakup last so long. Six months
is a half a year. He lived half a year without you.

I don’t see why she doesn’t want me.

If your even considering this... then I’ve underestimated you. I
know you’ll make the right decision. Don’t give up everything
you’ve made for yourself without him. Move on.

I don’t see why she doesn’t want me.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

J. L. Only: Silence & Fear of Rejection

There is no response. Only the sound of electricity in the air.
It resonates with every appliance. The TV, the refrigerator and
the computer all carry the same jeering sound.

It’s the sound of your silence that magnifies the electricity that
permeates this world. This room that echos the absence of your
voice. This is the sound of a quiet deafening noise.

Chosen to be ignored or in an unintentional delay of response
has left me in fear. Afraid of being denied a fulfillment of a void
specifically shaped and only filled by one. You.

Fragile... this heart that beats. A mirror of your own. Yes, the
same beat after beat also thumps in me. The vulnerable heart is
the only heart that is left in total defeat. Breath (sigh).

Vulnerable, from the inner sanctum of safety. Made visible with
words to alleviate any lack of information. They are received
with no response. Only L. Only knows what I want.

Comfortable is the life that has picked up the pieces. A new
life without... is possible. The past left behind. Attempts to
recapture it failed miserably. My fate, disgraced.

Breaking the silence is my redemption. The voice that saves
is the same voice when absent... torments. Whom then? Only
the graceful voice of one can shatter this silence.

Monday, February 14, 2011

152 Days Ago

J. L. Only: Post Break Up


Frustrated. The bridges fail as they disappear. The fog appeared and burned away taking with it any memory of a road to the other side.

Darkness hovers over me like a thunder storm. Striking down any desire to abide. Attempts to live life as if you were never here... Is the lie that can't be realized. Every attempt to fake it only gets struck down like pins on a bowling lane. Strike! Heart stained with a bad taste of you leaving me.

Scribbled once these dorment thoughts. Now they emerge again. Maybe my only friend. These words say hi, back to me again. I wave back to say goodbye my old friend.


Months have passed and I look forward to nothing but sleep. It's my den of retreat from facing another day of false torment. Because... This torment seems like nothing... And yet, my sleep is interupted daily by my obligations to work. Oh, the dreaded days of work. Oh, I can't wait to sleep again. Maybe my closest friend. Even more so than these writings that say nothing to me but remind me with waves to say hi. Again I say, goodbye.


Everything people do is meaningless. Nothing really ever matters. In the end we all die. With you, me... us, purpose dies.

Our days on Earth are numbered. Short is our time here, like a drop of water in the ocean. Like a grain of sand in the Sahara.

Bleak seems the future... the present shadowed by the darkness forecasted. Yes, my guts feel empty even though it's full.

Pulled by the prospects of an uneventful life. My arms are stretched as my own sacrifice. I have no tears to shead. Like i'm already dead.