Hurt, hurt,and hurt...

I had a chat with my friend today, and it came to touch an issue that came to my attention. She says "I don't wonder why things happen, I just ignore it and keep smiling. I don't hurt others for what I want. And I think feeling hurt for others is a waste of time and energy when the others don't care."

A sudden surge of emotion swept through me, one which I didn't recognize immediately. All these while I walk around the place, seeing banners in promotion of humanity for it is diminishing, reading news of wars taking place, picking snippets of murder cases and other heinous acts, watching people live with a proud unfounded ego. And I wonder about the causes of all this. Part of the answer is so near; there are so many people that cares solely for themselves. Surely as a human, we aren't born this way??? So what happened???

I do no know the answer, and that is not the main concern for this entry either.

THESE people, are the roots of the chaos spreading among humanity. When you don't wonder why things happen,you will not care to learn about the story. When you don't learn about the stories, you won't learn about the people whom you've hurt unknowingly. And since you don't know, you will keep on going hurting people around you.

Up to this point, I can already fathom what's needed to be.

"So I have to care or feel hurt for every single person that cares for me? how pathetic."
These are the last words from her tonight.

Now I recognize that feeling that pulsed through a moment back; it was sadness and pity.

Shoes

Embracing my feet, is a pair of shoes.

The solace of warmth that sheaths my feet as I tread the cold hard earth. Every step is an effort meant to hurt, yet safely tucked within these fabrics meant to deceive. Of the occasions in attempt of mischief, we bare our feet on the annoying sands, adhering bits of sore into the secluded comfort.

Why?

Because it means bittersweet memories now walks with us. From an experience we do not wish to forget, we taint the warmth of embrace upon our feet. The amelioration of this prickly ambient blessed on our feet, is not something matched by the mere strength of words. But the same could not be said for the more languid self.

Not for the mind, but for the heart.

If I could savor such warmth and comfort to my heart as to my feet. Will I renounce the tears I shed for endeavors not spoken? I do not know. If there is a pair of shoes for my heart, will I be brave enough to achieve what I set out to attain? My heart is walking the thorny path of dead roses. Bleeding still, the wounds grew deeper with every step I take. Numb, from the shivering frost of seclusion, unlike that of my feet.



I want a pair of shoes for my heart.
I would rather weep from the pains of mortal wounds, than sob from the barefooted heart.


*Inspired by Gerviene, entry on April 09 2010.

When you know its not infatuation...

Drifting down the morbid sequence of everyday life, we seek out thrills that comes so profoundly the moment we need it. We will pursuit the temporary, knowing it will die before us. Momentarily indulge in the illusive satisfaction, knowing that is not what we're truly looking for. Tainting the meaning of sadness, manipulating it as a cover up. Because at that moment, sanity sounds reproachful alongside reality. These short-lived deceits seem so welcoming, and somewhere inside us we hear a distant desire. They sound so familiar, but in truth a stranger. A stranger that promises harm especially when you let them into your heart. That stranger goes by the name "infatuation".

How do I tell this stranger apart?

You know it is not when your breathes are taken away from you.
You know it is not when you can conjure no malice.
You know it is not when all others dull in comparison.
You know it is not when you can't give it up without killing yourself.
You know it is not when the thought of losing it overcomes the fear of death.
You know it is not when time fails to provide erosion.
You know it is not when it only come once in a lifetime.
And that when you know it is too late...

I will never settle for infatuations, because I can never be...

The Meaning of Writing

I couldn't even think of where to start, when I question myself what it means to write here, now. For obvious reasons, I started on this perpetual routine of writing a record of my random thoughts at the presence to remind myself what crossed my unfathomable psychological conscience. But ever thought of just what, exactly, is taking place and is it worthy of attention? Should I deny myself of this impulsive urge to post a string of pragmatical sentences which derived from perhaps a unimportant figure such as myself, will anything change?

Yes.

An idea is only a whim of conjured thoughts restricted to yourself if you are unable to present or share it. Describing it in a more comprehensive term; useless. An idea is not perfect at its birth, it needs to be molded by intervening minds which is cynically trying to destroy it. Only by persevering through such irony will it be deemed 'useful'. And how, exactly, are we able to do it? We write it out. Its a form of record for the development of conjugated thoughts, condensing from languid wisps of uncertainties to a solid wall of logic defeating the orthodox. Remember that writing, even if its just a simple diary, is the trajectory path to the birth of something impressive.

Now, a fool will read the surface and leave it be while the wise will reach out for the depth.

Does writing serves only technical purposes? No, my dears, definitely not. Right now at this exact moment, I am writing out what serves a bigger purpose than the former mentioned, and has definitely more to it than meets the eye. Writing is actually a sanctified time for the writer where he or she can confront themselves. As words from yourselves appear in front of you, you are actually reading from what is within yourselves. No one else can truly engage the sentiments imbued into these little symbols replacing speech but the writers themselves. When the finishing touch has been laid, you will see a piece of yourself manifesting within these scratches and scribbles. These are your thoughts, your feelings, your emotions; a little piece of you. And like all parents are proud of their child, writers, too, will relief in marvel of his own piece. Though, such feelings are entirely personal and unperceived by any others.

A post for myself...

To think that I haven't any idea how to start a blog, is despicable. One of those times, again. The single passing moment when a gazillion module of thoughts just cascaded into your head, drowning you in a few seconds of blissful thoughts, then came the crashing despair that you can't seem to hold on to any one of it. Speaking of a leaking sandbox, impromptu memories and merry times tags the trickling sands of time as well; the next second its all gone.

So what happened, exactly? The putrid miasma that lingered around my wake had elevated for the last few days...Its a contrast of priorities, and of what we hold dear. Even in escape, there is no solace for the weak of heart. Pain follows. Knowing it and having it thrown at your face is two different things, where the latter can shed a ludicrous amount of tears bore from the eyes of the former's beholder.

Run, even the heaviest heart could not weight me down, for I'm a coward that's had enough of dubious dreams.

No one knew, no one will...

3 Drops Away...

The rain had passed, leaving a hazy drizzle of moist in the air. Inhales bring with it a calm soothe that creeps all the way to the heart, assimilating purity with the putridity within myself. Yes, cleanse me please, for unknown to anyone I am rotting from within.

*Drop

*Sigh. Ironic. What came from the serenity blessed by the heavens, is breathed out with despair. Just one droplet falling from the heavens, marked the time it takes for my life to return to solemnness. A shiver down my spine tells me something is drawing near.

*Drop

Something just clenched myself tightly from within. Ouch. It seems so familiar, yet so distant. Oh yes, its the piece of Me I tried to throw away. Now its back, claiming from me the price of ignorance. It is trying to remind me that I can't dismiss of Him, forever. Because He and I
are of the same flesh and blood.

*Drop

Nothing has changed. I'm back where I started, shrouded in what's seemingly a lifetime bond with this foul knave I brought upon myself. Now I know, He is something I have to carry for the rest of my life. Moving on, like people had done, is not possible; for I had only managed to walk 3 drops away...

The Closest Stranger

To me, Love is like a waltz,
holding you in my arms lovingly, steps along each others,
not letting go, till the end of it all.

Loving you is like music,
When I found one that I'm fond of, I will repeat it,
refusing to miss even a second of it,
and I let it repeats,
until another one take its place.

To Wait, is blissful,
and I even told you,
that I will Wait forever.

But Waiting is ever painful and tiring.

One of the greatest Pain in the world,
is to see my heart wither and shatter.

Yet, piece by piece, I mend them back,
unknown to anyone.

I Shall Wait No More.

For I have learned to Let Go.

With a slight hint of pain, you say
I Don't Love You.

But, You Do Not Know

Behind my Cruelty,
is my desire to give you happiness,
that is to set you Free.

My Tears,
fall on your footprints as you leave,
so that I can Hide them from your eyes.

Like shadows during sunset,
our Distance grows ever longer.

I thought that I can Forget,
only to realize I'm lost in Memories of you.

Occasionally, it Hurts.

Occasionally, I Cry.

Living in memories of you,
I can only learn how to Disguise,
cover everything in beautiful Lies.

My Heart can't let you go.

I tried,
Throwing you out of my heart.

But in the end,
I Returned in tears to pick you up again.

Everyday, in silence, I still Care about you,
hidden from all eyes.

We both know, that our paths will Never Cross Again.
Like parallel tracks, getting Further Away from each other.

We can never be friends, for we had Hurted each other.

Never be enemies, for we had Loved each other.

We can only be,
the Closest Strangers.

This stranger that Miss You so much,
can only Pray That You Will Smile.

~Cherish Time To Love~

*This is a translated piece.

Stand and Walk

Chill around the cafeteria at campus, watch others pouring in and out. In a glimpse, their life seems so peaceful. Perhaps. Stresses can be seen along the lines of some spent faces, joy as illuminating as neon lights from their smile, sadness so deep it drown colors from their eyes, an air of emptiness so blatant they might be lost. But whatever it is they are feeling at the moment, it didn't stop them from walking around the place. The wonders and pain, of taking another step forward.

During the better days, all you can do is cry. In a few months, you had learned to crawl. By the age of one, you are already trying to stand. What comes next is us trying to start running from a wobbly standing posture. Weak as we are before, we were still determined to achieve what we desire. Falling flat on our arses, knocking the air out of ourselves, crying out loud, returning to the start of this routinized module; we try again.

There was once when I brought great joy to myself and everyone around me; I can finally stand and run into the arms of my parents.

Now here we are, forgetting what it meant and cost ourselves just only by standing here. People around me, old and matured enough to break their parent's hearts, forgetting how we learn to stand. They are crying, endlessly, lost like a baby, refusing to stand again, waiting for others to lift them up in comfort, just like those whose very heart they've broken had did in the past. It is a sad thing to even know exists.

Never stop walking forward. Take your time. Wipe your tears. Lift your head. Grope through the dark when the light is out. You don't need a reason, nor a destination. Just walk and accept what comes in front. Then perhaps, once again, you can bring joy to this miserable world.

Time-Killing Post

As of late, passing days had been of a grueling mess. Like many of my peers around me, we're bounded by similar...problems (for lack of a better noun) that seems so new in this stage of our growth: studies, relations, looks, money, dreams, sleep (cheers people, for this one scores high). An d being no better than an average fool lurking around this pathetic world, I'm not spared. Have my fair share of the aforementioned...distractions...the way I see it. And does not has the privilege of saying I can handle them any better than anyone. And the way I am bothered by it these days, most probably I'm among the very worst.

I have a very proud way of solving things. Been there since I-don't-know-when, but I've been ever increasingly reluctant to accept help from others. I'd rather fail hard and painfully by myself than to admit I should have asked. Truth be said, the 'pride' comes from the fact that I'm able to stand up and declare I've learned a precious experience on my own. Was. Not anymore. Brought upon my conscience is the fact that I've been falling deep into certain matters and is now too late to heave myself out of the abysmal depth. A friend's quote "If you trip over it then you can stand again, but if you fall for it then it is forever." Nice. How bizarre it is that one thing affects another even when its non-related.

Spawned from the habit of not sharing, comes the price of non-empathy. When others no longer know what is hurting you, they unintentionally (for the sake of remaining optimistic) bring it up in front of you, casting me deeper into the pit I dug.

If sleep is ever a problem, I can say that the only thing I love about that is I can temporarily block out the world, sometimes.

Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs

Hey Snow White, do you remember? It was us who took you in when you were lost in the forest. During your darkest hours, when you were abandoned, helpless, weak, and unsecured, we took it up on ourselves to make sure these mentioned demons retreat.

We are a group of people unpleasant to the eyes, but you know very well how much compassion we can share. You, who is the green in the eyes of all humans, brought joy and light to our dull and repetitive days, taught us how beautiful life can be even for people like us. We swore to ourselves, that we will let no harm come to you as long as one of us still breathes.

We have failed.

For though we have hearts rivaling a battalion of knights, our flesh is still of a group of short little men. What we did was what we could. So is it enough?

That is for you to answer.

But you don't have to tell us, for in the blink of an eye it didn't matter anymore.

Prince Charming came, and it seems that he was the one that you've always been waiting for. The beautiful smile on your face equals a million words. Go. That is where your "happily ever after" lies.

Now we have returned to our lives before you came. We thought we did.

We didn't.

Every time we look around, we see memoirs of your presence. We had come to learn about joy and love, learned that our lives before you were miserable, that you are a our precious princess. And now finally, we learned that life without you is the true meaning of pain.

But we are aware of our destiny: As the seven dwarfs, we are not meant to be part of your 'happily ever after', but only to keep it alive and write about it...

Tell me...

What if, one day, "evils" like murder, robbery, rape, blackmail, kidnap, etc...went out of control? As in the society no longer thinks that those are something that is "wrong"...? The person standing next to you at a bus stand can just suddenly get killed by another guy just because his foot got stepped on, people will still be scared by such incidents oh yes, but only because it looks hideous. In short, what if "conscience" has been rewritten?

Are you smiling now after reading that? To an extent it is VERY exaggerated, true. But what if I say that although the imagery is far-fetched, it is not the least bit "impossible"? (Least so in my opinion) Still smiling? Allow me to explain why I'm saying this...

Ever had opinions of your own that you can't voice out? Or decisions that was made by yourself had to be changed because someone make you? I believe everyone do. But how many of those incidents happened because someone executed authority over you instead of persuasion via verbal logic exchange? Well my life is filled with lots of those, which is the reason why I took notice...

"You WILL do what I say because I am who I am and there is nothing you can do about it, except suffer the consequences of my wrath."

"When the time comes, just screw it. I can blame myself. Nevermind."

"I don't want to talk anymore, had enough. I'll do what I please."

"Everyone is doing it. So I just WANT to do it, cause I like it as well. I'm enjoying it, that's enough."

All the answers above will always end any communication I'm having. Most of the time it will result in me sulking. For me, the conversations should NOT end like this, cause it is NOT the end. Sooner or later, the society will cross the line drawn during the past. The line that we refrain from stepping over to "evil", and the line that keeps us moving namely "conscience", is drawing nearer to each other.

Will it lap over one day...?

"You WILL do what I say because I am who I am and there is nothing you can do about it, except suffer the consequences of my wrath." Authority is NOT reason.

"When the time comes, just screw it. I can blame myself. Nevermind." Running head-on into obvious trouble is stupidity, not bravery and more less a reason.

"I don't want to talk anymore, had enough. I'll do what I please." What do you mean by "enough"? Does it means "I don't want to talk about reasons anymore cause it is complicated, I'll submit to stupidity and ignorance"?

"Everyone is doing it. So I just WANT to do it, cause I like it as well. I'm enjoying it, that's enough." Selfishness

These are not right, but why is everyone still doing it?

Spare a second...

Whenever you came across a decision, whether its just a simple opinion you've decided to state or an impression you are about to keep, hold it...

Spare a second, ponder a little more what will that decide...

The changes...

The people involved...

What will happen to you...

What will happen to other people, especially those important to you...

The effects...

The cause...

The purpose...

Pick any of the above and think about it, even only for a second...

My favourite...?

"Is this another one for my selfishness?"

Should I...

Somewhere sometime ago, I had a purpose. An aim.

It was optional, by my own will I decided to do it.

I did. Almost there...

But after that...

Will I still be needed...?

Did I succeed in what I set out to do...?

I might have failed, just to ignorant to know...

Its sad...

Conflicts in the head...

Think...For that is the way I deal with things...

Thoughts came...But I gave it away...

I'm just a coward, insignificant in my very own eyes...

Perhaps its time for me to leave...

This party of silhouettes with masked faces...

Meant for me alone...

End of the month...

With the urge to fill up my blog with yet another entry before the month ends, I am here now after a morning workout waiting for my family to rouse. Ideas? None. Inspiration? All time low. Life? As usual (does not bode well).

With the lack of attentiveness to everything around me for the entire month, days had been dragging pass at the rate of a crawling snail (for lack of a better metaphor). The only thing that is working well so far? That would be the game face I put on when I appear in public. Blogging had became the sole solace for my own ranting, a form of record my future reference, and nonetheless a reminder of my failure in handling myself.

Been treading myself down to earth lately; inconsistent sleeping hours, overhauling the body, stressing the mind on mingling thoughts. Never much of a religious person, I've never spend time trying to talk to God when I'm alone. OK, maybe I do, sometimes. But I never really surrender much to Him. Pretty much blasphemous, I had maintained a "I will accomplish things myself without having to rely on anyone" mindset for a considerable time now. And by "anyone" it means He is included. Not because of pride or anything foolishly personal, but its past experience that taught me where relying on others includes a certain amount of risk, involving relentless disappointment. Its part of the idea that partially includes me not sharing my problems, least not with the wrong company. By that I do not mean non-trustworthy or anything near mockery, but its just that parties that are not involved will NOT share any empathy.

I hate myself for being weak and useless, even more so that I'm showing parts of it, much more so that I can't change it....

Of Chocolate Chips and Bananas

Another day, gone, painted in a nutshell of assumed regularities and laughter. Some will kill, some will lament, some will whiff it away and laugh till the day itself end. Though, more is the envious of the peaceful day I had just gone through. Halt. Look into my eyes. What do you people see? Can you feel through the awkwardness, an inconsistency that's swirling within me? No. No you can't. Today feels as if it doesn't belong to me. How can you smile and laugh when you are hurting so much within? How can you care about others when you are not able to give any for yourself to reside in? All these does not go along. Irregularities. Non-beneficial lies. Idiocy. Hypocrisy. Overwhelming stupidity. Lay these down for me as I'm well acquitted to claim them as I live.



No. That is not it. I'm a realists. I carry the heart of a perfectionist molded with a slight essence of emphatists. Languid smokes of comfort occasionally bearing the form of truth arises from the smoldering ashes of the past. There is a reason I do all these silly stunts that strays from sanity. As I look around, I saw familiarities in others. They, too, are doing the same albeit motivated by a different cause. Yes, in life we choose things that go against written facts. But the best results does not always mean the most favored. We are humans. It is in our innate nature to seek what's best for ourselves, deceiving warnings issued by our mind. But the important thing is, we love and enjoy the beautiful and fabulous feeling that is only attainable through such silly actions...



When baking, it is a common practice to NOT mix inorganic flavors (Chocolate chips) with organic flavors (bananas). It is said that out tongue is unable to differentiate the two tastes out at the same time. Ignoring this will result in a product that is labelled as "tastes weird". Thats a written rule from the past and is proven true. But today we see a revolution in that. Despite the "weird" flavors, men have discovered the better result by pursuing the inordinary. Molding chocolate chips and bananas with butter and baking powder, add in a slight tinge of vanila essence before the baking process, and you will get a palatal stimulating masterpiece.
This is a discovery made by those who trusted in themselves, persevering through jeers and teases.

Edisi tunggal...

Disebabkan pengaruh sebaya, maka wujudlah keputusan yang selitan terbaru ini akan dibuat dalam Bahasa Malaysia. Namun begitu, kepanasan bilik yang meruntuhkan semangat serta kekurangan tunjang ilham falsafah mengakibatkan kekosongan minda. Oleh demikian, terpaksalah saya memendekkan selitan ini.

Seperti yang dikatakan, kekurangan inspirasi (punca daripada kukurangan oksigen dalam otak berserta jurang masa yang pendek antara selitan terakhir dengan yang terbaru) merupakan masalah besar apabila anda ingin mengecapi keindahan bahasa dalam penulisan yang bermakna. Walaupun bukan secara keseluruhan, saya masih dianggap salah satu peneraju masa depan di menara gading. Biasanya alasan tersebut tidak akan diterima untuk insan yang membawa gelaran "mahasiswa" seperti saya. Sekiranya didapati, besar kemungkinannya saya akan dipaksa mengambil subjek BM sekali lagi. Inilah yang dikatakan "dukacita".

Namun demikian, saya tetap ingin meneruskan selitan kali ini. Walaupun saya tidak mempunyai semangat patriotisme yang kuat, kacang tetap tidak boleh melupakan kulit. Tanah airku tetap Malaysia. Atas alasan demikian, wujudlah teraju hati yang diterima dengan terbuka dimana saya patut mengulang-kaji kefasihan bahasa negaraku.

Sepertimana yang dikatakan di pendahuluan, delitan terkini akan "dipendekkan". Definisi tersebut bermakna saya akan menurunkan noktah di sini. Kesulitan pengarang (saya) yang wujud tetap tidak dapat dibias dalam masa yang pendek. Sekian akhir.

Food for thought; Goth, Literacy, and Me...

There's a habit of me looking at the clock every single time before I start my blog. Why? A sense if trepidation always sweeps over whenever I do a reality check-up. Knowing that while I dwell on haunting from the past the future keeps coming ever closer. Geological senses are an amazing feat where we humans are privileged to. Of distances, time, emotions, vanities and virtues, we feel them inside of ourselves more than we realize or accept.

~ Blaring in my room now ~

Le Nouveau Gothique. A bittersweet phrase of me addressing me and my perception of my own life. A mild taste of slothfulness emerges at the thought that my latest semester is about to begin. In my life, I had always fought head-on towards calamities and adversities in a multitude of varieties. Many times had I fell, standing up again on bruises yet proud that it didn't stop me from doing so, that in itself fills me with a sense of victory to the brim. The feeling is quite motivating, albeit I know not why it had to be done in the beginning. Are we humans born with a purpose that we seek unknowingly? Perhaps, cause I know not. Of the things I do, is it leading to or serves an ultimate purpose meant to be achieved in the lifespan granted to me? Such questions always conjures up a spiral of other questions. Another fabulous feat of humans. As we think, we are able to chain up one issue to another where a minute ago seems so distant. The way our mind works is a miracle that rivals the mystere of the universe.

Off and on the subject again, I wanted to achieve accomplishments in everything I see. An innate urge drives me like an addiction, quite similar to a primitive survival instinct. An easy life? Wealth? Knowledge? Pride? Vanity? Honestly, these seems so trivial. I know there is something else I want that transcends my own perception of logic, theres a purpose I'm leading my life the way I am now, where in the ultimate end I strive that I may catch the smallest glimpse if not embrace it.

~ This is good ~

Literacy, a worldly achievement by the minds of the past. It allows us to link events across time and space. Feel the mind of those separated by life and death. Represent a world where sometime in the future only imagination can live in. Of the things I'm writing now, perhaps if it's discovered a millenia later, another individual will think like I do now? Now thats what I call living eternally. No cold hard facts, neither quantifiable nor measurable, its felt. Science stream students may laugh, realists may snigger, but I will still wear this proudly. Victory and self-fulfillment is subjective. I pity those who are consumed by the world they are born in, trying to match up to machines and programmes, forgetting they are flesh and blood. Ponder?

My clock shows that in approximately 11 hours and 45 minutes, I'll enter the 21st annual reverie that I came to this earth. Many makes a huge fuss over their 21st birthday. The way I see it; "I've come twenty-one years towards the end of my life. whatever it is I set out to do, I'm getting closer. Have I done what's necessary...? 21, its a good number to stop and check, where I started, where I am now, where am I going...."

~ Perfect for my blog ~

All these philosophical thoughts that plunges me spiritually...makes me who I am...I've definitely come a long way since the day I can only cry...approximately twenty one years....

A similarity between cats and humans? A cat is said to have nine lives, men carry on with theirs as if they do.... ~ Nine Lives, Teoh Choon Ean

My Philaharmonic Stage

"Each and everyone of us is an actor in the stage of life" ~ William Shakespeare

A room draped in fabric, a clarity of attentions, a tense yet exulting atmosphere; a philharmonic orchestral.
Thus is the stage of my life.

What I'm trying to be is,
The Violinist.
Tonight, I'm seated among others, insignificant on my own, yet my tune contributes to the play.
I yearn for a solo, where in the span of a few breathes, the stage belongs to me alone.
But I'm only among the conducted, precipitating illusory melodies, weaved by my very own hands.
Eyes are of no importance, for they only desire the beautiful lies reverberating across the hall.
If this is what they request, then giveth I shall.
Tonight, like many passed, I again shall remain on the stage sharing.
My part comes "tomorrow"

What I dream of being is,
The Conductor.
Tonight belongs to me.
Unlike others, I stand facing the artisans of vocal magnificence.
Unlike others, I back the sea of commoners, who's indulgence in the clairvoyance is sedative.
Excitement pulsates through the blood in my veins, knowing that I have "sovereignty" at the tips of my finger.
Tonight, I take the lead.
Tonight, I'm free, to conduct a play where i can call "my own".
Alas, an exuberance I longed for is within my grasp.

But who I really am is;
The Audience.
Tonight, I worry not about who I am.
I am here, to catch the enchantment, to bask in the ambiance.
The stage is like a spring, rejuvenating my thirst for solace.
Like all springs, needless it is to wonder the source, as long as it quenches.
As if heaven itself descended, the mere emanation of a breathtaking resonance enlivens me.
But illusions are, in the end, illusions.
As the play ends, so does my beautiful dream.
The finale brings together with it, an elucidated reality I thought I had long escaped.




Tonight: 2010 Elysian & Tartarus Crossover, The 1st Score.