The Darkside



If you hang around with me long enough, you would have definitely heard me talk about the advantages and disadvantages of being good and bad. It usually goes on as something like this; the good guys loses all the time, they lose all but the last time. The bad guys, on the other hand, wins all the time, they win all but the last time.



Of course, many goody two-shoes have been pro good-guys and religiously believe that the last and only time they win, they would win with a big bang. Personally, i am not a guy for flashy endings, so while i'm at it, why not win all the time eh?



To further investigate the validity of the said hypothesis, where bad guys win all the time, i ventured into friendster and into the valley of the shadow of death. It was a chilly night, under the watchful eyes of the stars, at a time when the traffic was still whizzing past, but late enough for the pavements to be bare.



I saw a little girl walking along the road seemingly mesmerised by the lights from the lamposts. She keeps her head real low, staring at the long shadows casted on the ground and a tiny smile creeps to the corners of her mouth as she fiddled with playful thoughts.



Not willing to interupt her reverie, i continued my venture, until i came upon a guy carrying a gundam manga. An average guy. Someone with average grades living an average life. But appearances are deceptive, for after chatting him up, i quickly learned that he was the meanest sonofabitch in the valley who feared no evil. Impressed i was. Even the average guy could become the meanest of 'em all.



Further on i ventured, and more happenings came to be. I saw a raven enraptured by madness unable to flee from it's opened cage. It was trapped, not by the barriers that lay before it, but by the state of madness that the northern wind recites. "Madness is not a state of mind, but a choice a mortal made in life." the raven said. Didn't make much sense to me, but couldn't expect much more from a mad raven.



There were those who sold their souls for love, those riddled with vengeance, and those simply incapable, devoid of the chance that the good guys denied. Perhaps all these would change. That could be the day when people decide to let faith decide over fate. Or it could be the day where witches rises from the graves and angels falls from the skies.



At the end of the venture, just as my cousins were going to kill me for stealing their friendster lines, i met yet another girl.



"What's cute, bubbly, cheerful, smart, intelligent, friendly girl like u doing here?" i asked of her.



"Looking for frenz lor... duh... this is 'friendster' rite?" the girl replied, her exact words.



Then i realised, perhaps it's the friends we keep, that urge us to win all the time, to overcome the last but crippling defeat, to be scorned by the so called good guys, and to stroll the twisted path of the darkside.