The Law of Attraction

The basic Law of Attraction (in Layman terms):

"Opposites attract!"

"Yin and Yang!"

 

According to the ever popular Wikipedia, the definition stated:

"blah blah blah...like attracts like...blah blah blah"

 

Have you ever wondered what the Law of Attraction is? Has it ever been a curious question that rose in your mind when you were in doubt of what makes a relationship tick?

I have always wondered on how things work, and how attraction exists between man and woman. I've been curious for some time, and I have asked people and based on personal experience I have came up with my own hypothesis, maybe a conclusion, on how the law actually plays it's part.

Some amongst us (hypocrites) may say, that they don't look for looks in their partner, but, and I quote; "it's what's on the inside that counts." What do I say to this; bullshit. No offense. There is no way that you would meet up with an old dude with wrinkles looking fat now, would you? And for the male; would you meet a 25 year old "hairy" woman with no dressing sense? Hence, step one: the first impression.

Establishing a first impression counts; big time. Whether you pull it off right or wrong, results in what comes after. To me basically, I dress my casual self with my Edwin mid-cuts, Tropicana Life jeans and maybe throw on a Giordano polo tee. I assure myself to get a nice clean shave before meeting up this special someone, not to mention smelling good to match. P.S: This description ain't always what I wear when I meet a "special someone".

Step two: The meet up. The environment, the setup, the music, the food. It all plays a small part; individually. Together, they actually can throw you off your path, or maybe show you the bright light that shines at the end of the dark road you travel in. It doesn't have to be exclusive, but knowing your partner's favorites are bonus points. 

Wise words from Sun Tzu's Art of War:

"If you know the enemy and know yourself you need not fear the results of a hundred battles."

And now we move on to step 4: the conversation. Every word uttered must be taken notice of, to establish yourself of being a good listener. No lady or gentleman would like to be ignored on the first meet up. Keep the conversation going, whether about friends, family embarrassing moments; anything to avoid each other from falling asleep. Even a canned drink would be enough to last hours worth of conversation; believe me, I know.

These steps just help the attraction process, but what exactly composes the attraction? Opposites attract to some, and similarities to others. Pulling off the pure "good-guy" look ain't gonna get you anywhere, nor the "I'm-all-bad-boy" look neither. Showing off your cash flow might get you places, but not to where you're suppose to head to.

What I'm trying to say in this article, is that I don't attract as many as you think. I choose who I wanna attract, who I think are special. I am unique in my own way, but still an average dude amongst others; and it's just the way I like it. Attraction works as you put yourself as how you are. The steps above are just helping tools on what you can help yourself with.

P.S: I'm not setting an example, just being a curious cat.

-tHe UgLy rEtArD-

The Blue who bled RED!

Now god wanted a football match,
And to play it up in heaven,
But first he needed players,
And select his first eleven.

Georgie Best, big Brian Labone,
The legend Dixie Dean,
Alan Ball and Bobby Moore,
All made it in the team.

He needed one more player,
Some one who would be quick,
From up above he looked down,
And saw Rhys there in his kit.

So Rhys was taken up above,
God took him by the hand,
To play the game he loved so much,
Where sponsorship is banned.

There is no cheating either as,
God is the referee,
There are no mega wages,
And the transfers they are free.

The games are live on telly,
You don't have to subscribe,
The players all stay on their feet,
Cos no one takes a dive.

So Rhys plays now so happily,
To the angels in the crowd,
And every time he hits the net,
They roar his name so loud.

Have fun my little blue boy,
Your safe and in gods care,
Till its time for me to get my boots,
And join with you up there.

God bless Rhys.

5 years today.
You'll Never Walk Alone!
Rip Lil Man 

There's always a lil bit of something.

There's always something hidden between words, exchanged between an individual to another. Some might not mean a thing, yet some may be just a hint of how one is feeling, reasons of sadness or happiness. Words of sadness or anger doesn't always mean the same emotion; it might as well be the opposite, don't you think? Many don't find the significance of understanding true emotions portrayed in between speech and body language. A certain few among us actually look for these hidden "emotions", somewhat of an emotional leakage.


Try taking a second to think. For all you know, you may be doing the very same thing without realizing it! For all you know, you might just say that you're okay, cause that's what you want yourself to believe. But what is it that you're feeling? Try coming clean with yourself, and try taking off that mask you wear in front of many others, who believe what you say instead of what you feel. 


I started wondering about this, because I often portray these acts, and I realize it in a delayed manner. I never actually give much thought into my feelings, and put others' importance above mine. I'm not bragging, but many know who I am. I tried coming clean with myself, and yet I still can't stop myself. The fear of hurting someone close to me, someone loved and cared for, is always there. And so I put on a smile, take my walk.


"I'm fine. I'm okay." 


Saying these words may be the easiest thing; and that's why we chose to say this, instead of explaining the pain and trouble we are going through. Why burden someone with your pain? What's there to share when there's only pain and suffering? 


I put on a smile and take my walk. A smile so fake, heck, even I might just fall for it.

-tHe uGLy rEtArD-

The boy who cried GOLD!

Regarding the title above, I am very sure you all have heard the story of "The Boy Who Cried Wolf", and this story of mine is a slight depiction to that story itself. What if that boy, had been a little bit smarter? What if, the story had taken place in the near present, instead of the far past? What if that kid was a little smarter than what we could possibly conjure out of our tiny minds? I mean think about it; or better yet, why don't I just tell you the story that rose up in the oven I call, the brain.

One fine day, a shepherd's son, taking care of his dad's sheep, was just lying down beside a palm tree being so lazy, and bummed out without having anything to do. All that was there to be done, was to watch the sheep eat they hay, and go about "socializing" with fellow sheep. His mind was branching ideas, possibilities of having something to do.

This boy was mischievous, oh yes indeed he was. He could never sit in his little corner, and go about with the norms of life. He has to have the attention of the crowd, the applause of the people; and if not that, the mockery is just fine. At that point of time, he came up with a few ideas, some were really absurd, yet some were err, genius I think. Anyways, he tried out some of them, like throwing a firecracker in a herd of sheep, and watching them run around with no where to go. He even tried shaving off some wool from the sheep, and pretending to be Santa Clause. Believe me when I say, I find it weird for a 14-year old to be into Santa.

Time passed by and the kid still had a lot more to waste. He wanted to try out his biggest prank of all, he wanted to make himself known, whether in a good way or the latter. How did he achieve his stunt? Well, he cried out to the people in the rural town he was in, he cried out WOLF! A large group of the town’s people came running to see what had happened; only to find out that there was nothing there. All they saw was a kid asleep under a tree, with a herd of sheep in a gated area. They thought maybe it was somewhere, or maybe, someone else that was behind this stunt. So they left, empty-handed and confused.

As soon as the people of the town left, the kid stood up to see if the coast was clear. A few minutes later, that naughty little chipmunk did the same thing all over again! He cried out WOLF to the towns people all over again, but this time no one replied and they decided to let it be. The kid was shocked but he didn’t care. Little he knew that he was in a lot of trouble, not by the towns people, but by something a little bit more terrifying! The boy turned around and there were not one, but three wolves on the attack for his sheep. They were circling him and his sheep, getting ready for a good dinner.

Panic and fear was all that was running through the minds of the sheep, but what was going on in his mind? The kid, being mischievous; also is a smart kid. What was his naughty little brain cooking up? As the wolves circled closer, the boy was left with no choice but one. The boy screamed,

"GOLD GOLD GOLD!! Come people, I found GOLD!!"

The next thing that he could feel was a mild tremble from the ground, getting stronger by the second. The wolves felt the quake and started to take a few steps back. As soon as the pack saw the village running uphill, with greedy faces and big empty bags, they ran away. They ran away so fast that there were only a few villagers up front that were able to see them.

A few minutes later, the people of the village managed to make it up the hill to find the gold. They started running everywhere looking for the gold. And the boy, well, he was just laughing out loud. No one cared, no one had time to care, when there's gold to find. The boy laughed and took his sheep back to his place. He was the reason of such spectacle, and he just laughed for his good fortune.

For a kid, to actually have such critical thinking skills, can only exist in the time frame we live in now. We all have heard the original before. I don't know about you, but it really did make a mark in my morale. Never to lie in such situations whereby we hurt feelings, and never to play around with wolves. What if, we heard this version instead of that? Would it have made a difference? You tell me :)

-tHe uGLy rEtArD-

The truth about him.

There he was. A kid and nothing else. A kid, nonetheless, still one with pride and honor. The day came that he lost it, but did it return eventually? Maybe it did, maybe it didn't. Today, he reminisces on the day that went past him, faster then he expected. Did he make the right decisions then? Questions remain unanswered, but he knows how much they actually affected his life right now. He could never be happier right now compared to how it all was years ago.


He had nothing, years ago. Just a boy that was in school in and out. Never had the privilege of ever falling in love with the girl of his dreams, lost himself amongst the flow of time, living in his own presence, not even having someone to call a friend. A lonely depressed kid he was, zero popularity, and a negative sex appeal! Having nothing but his ugly looking beard to brag about, he never dared face anyone without self-esteem issues.


What made everyone popular back then? The fact that you played good football was number one on  the list; which he always ended up looking away from. There was the "Rock Music" groupie thingy, which he never was skilled in. There was always the "Prince Charming" in every class; don't even say it! The easiest way to make it out popular in school, the bully. The irony of it, this kid got himself on the other end of this line, being the pity, sad, desperate, depressed victim. I think this is enough to say that he had NOTHING!


Who is he right now? You must be wondering if the kid actually made it out alive. Well, let me start by saying that he did, and he rocks *at least he think's so*. Let's start with our list, shall we? Football; the dude can play. He ain't sucky anymore, but still he ain't a pro neither. He's just proud that he can net a few and hold off some asses from getting near his own post. Friends; he's got tons! Right now, he's the awesome dude, that hangs with everyone, talks to everyone, a boasting asshole, but one with friends nonetheless. 


The dude ain't a rocker, but he's into something from the opposite; rap. 

He write's his funny lil rhymes,

They don't get sold, no, not for a dime,

Words spoken, even by a mime,

Damn, he's a superstar sublime!

He ain't no "Prince Charming" but believe him when he points his finger at himself and says "I got potential!"  The dude speaks like a pro, but hey, he can't get every girl, if you know what I mean. He ain't never a bully by the way, he just fucks em up! 


The dude turned over a new leaf, partying more than ever and living the life that most can only dream about. Some envy him, most think he's an asshole. At the end of the day, what does he think of himself? Nothing but a kid, an ugly and retarded one.


~the uGLy rEtArD~

The Suicide Note on FB.

There comes a time where depression can get the best of you. At that moment, you might end up getting yourself into a huge mess, maybe even by accident. You might end up losing friends, loved ones, and the worst, yourself. At my point of view, as a man who seeks optimism at every little opportunity and incident, I know how depressing can life be. When it turns into that corner, there isn't be much to be done, but to say "Look at the bright side," fingers crossed, hoping for a change to occur somewhere in between. After all this you begin to ponder, what's the point? Why keep feeling this when you have the opportunity to not feel at all? Why the hell not?

The answer to that question lies in itself. The opportunity to not feel at all would mean the loss of a variety of what makes us human; emotion. But how do we seek this opportunity? Death, the one word says it all. In order to portray death, one must come to a conclusion of his or her life, be taken by accident or let time take it's toll. Fascination on such a portrait can be seen in media, whereby death and murder seem to be everything that we read about, everything that we want to read about. When does change occur, and HOW?

One man answered that question, with an answer that almost shook the grounds of the earth. The answer actually involved 1/3 of the world; the internet. Facebook was a social network, nonetheless, a website where jobless people find jobs, where the ugly meets the beautiful, where envy turns into anger, where LOL turns into LMAO and where everything goes up and swell while being watched. This man managed to turn heads from all over the world with his depression and sadness. With nothing. 

All that he had was depression, sadness, regret, a broken heart, an empty soul, everything that had nothing. It maybe hard to understand, but coming to the extremes of naming yourself in the Internet world can't be such a good idea. Yet he did, and he had no chance of witnessing the reaction of them who actually know his story. This man did nothing but complain in his days on the Internet. Complain about his life, his love, his job, his car, his mom, his dad etc etc etc, until one day, he snaps.

The decision he took was harsh, but it became monumental, a phenom. That would be the first time anyone would ever have the chance to witness a portrait in the making. The amount of sadness, tears being cried, anger being thrown, portrayed into words by he himself on a simple note. He would never get the chance of witnessing the chance that he made, single-handedly. 

If you are still wondering, let me make this simple. His broken inner feelings took over his sensitive heart, the amount of pain and suffering he went through to hide all that. Imagine a small pocket being filled with nothing but sand. It may look easy at first, but how much sand can you pour? Enough for it to blow up? He did the same, he blew up. He lost his life that night. 

All it took was that one note that he wrote, to turn heads and to help people witness the magic that he created from his death. The one note that said it all, the portrait of his depression, the reflection of his sad and heart-broken self being. That one note said it all, his suicide note.

Killshot: Pain beyond death.

There ain't nothing in this world that could be as beautiful as you. Describing your beauty would be humiliating, there ain't no words to price your presence. Love was in the air once, but now, it ceased to exist. How would that be possible, when I thought you were the "one". How would it be possible, when I thought all I loved was you. How would it be possible when all I thought about was you. Yet, you left my sorry soul, and moved on with your life. I bet that you are definitely having the time of your life, living it the way you wanted, away from all my irritating comments and boring mumbles. And yet, I would be nothing but in love with you, for the rest of my life.

Enough with the description on my love for you, why don't I just tell everyone the story I never had.

What would you know about a killshot? As you know, my version of a killshot meant of the pain one experiences, one above and beyond death itself. I never wanna experience this pain ever again, saying that it hurts just ain't enough to describe it. Why did you exist in my life that morning? Why did I end up seeing you? Was that even love in first sight? If it was, why did it suddenly disappear? Where did it go?

You broke my heart not once, not twice, but more than tens of times. Of course I kept count, the amount of grazes on my heart left by your "killshots" actually says a lot. What did I want from you, and why did you leave me? Was my ranting too much, or my affection too little? And yet, questions remain unanswered, life remains short, and fun doesn't last as long as we want it to.

Holding your hands under the sunrise, with our feet half-dipped under the sands of the beach, with a bottle of fine wine just to accompany the warm sun upon us on that fine morning; this is my fantasy. To have this with you would be everything more than a dream come true, it would be a prophecy in fact. Of course you may think of this as too much of a fantasy, but don't you actually feel it's possible? I don't a have a kind heart, but don't you think I at least want to enjoy this with you, and no one else?

My arms around yours to keep you warm through the night, singing you a song, staring at your eyes and sniffing you sweet-smelling hair, there would be nothing else sweeter. Holding you nice and tight, dropping head over heels for you, admiring your beauty, just for that one night; it's all I ask for. The return of that one night, when will it be? When will I have you all to myself again? When, tell me WHEN?

Baby girl, it's you that I love, it's you that I adore. It's you, no one else but you. Too bad, that you didn't feel the same weird cheesy feelings I felt. "Love" was just the only word we didn't say to each other, yet we both know that it was floating somewhere in the air. A few words was all it took for you to walk away, don't you think that it should be fair a few words should bring us back together? Of course it's not fair, to you. My world, my life, is indeed nothing but an unfair one to me. 

I love you, and no one else. Yet, to show that to you, would take the whole world to be split in half, and rejoined again. Didn't make sense now, did it? That's how much I love you, so much that it should not make any sorta sense.

I love you, and no one else. My love for you can never be measured, not by you, not by anyone. You would see it again, one day.

I love you, and no one else. Come back to my arms, I'll hold you tighter than before, never choking you, but holding you just enough. Come back to me, and I'll stop all my ranting, and I'll love you, better than before.

This is my love story, undefined, unfiltered, uncherished. 

This is my love story, a stupid, sorry, pathetic one.

This is my love story, the one and only that I have.

This is my KILLSHOT.

~tHe uGLy rEtArD~ .

Killshot.

A killshot. What do you know from the word "killshot" ? Many would definitely associate the word with a favourite game of theirs, some might even associate it with guns and bullets. The way I associate it (the way a retard associates it) is that its a cold shot, piercing the muscles of the one thing that beats to make you live. This cold shot doesn't have to come from a weapon, no. In my case, it comes in the form of words, words that stab the depths of your heart, rips it apart, but keeps you alive so that you can never stop feeling the pain.

I have taken many killshots, in the past, present and definitely will be taking some in the future. There's no stopping me from getting my ass kicked around, but what's making me getting my heart thrown around? I stopped caring for myself, for my own feelings. I've started a path of my own, one that I'll never be proud of. At the same time, why does it all have to be about pride? Can't I just live my life they I want it? Nowadays, I just feel getting hurt is the best option amongst the rest. Getting hurt would also involve a lil bit of joy and happiness from here and there.

There's no saying when will I stop crapping about my life and my love stories, but there will come a day where I will learn my lesson and stop being this emo-istic, depressed ass that I am.Until then, enjoy reading up my stories, have fun imagining yourself in my shoes.

P/s: those stories have a weird vibe to them, cause they almost resemble my story. Have fun! :)


~the uGLy rEtArD~