Read up; part 64.

If I don’t speak, this moment will exist, preserved in the amber of my memory forever, exactly perfect.


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Read up; part 63.

‘You’re still in it. You’ll always be in it. No, not literally. But in your heart. Nothing ever ends, not if it’s gone that deep. You’ll always be walking wounded. That’s the only choice, after a while. Walking wounded, or dead. Don’t you agree?’


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‘Cool’ : A Remembrance

Flutters from an open door.

Thai food, shared bowls.

Little details, journalism, politics. 

Train ride back to my hotel.

Confused, misused, panicked routes, maps.

Advices, understanding, acceptance, small talk, grins.

Arrival, goodbyes, inflection of words.

Tower bridge night-time closures.


It was magical.



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Read up; part 62.

‘What’s death to me is just a lot of words to you. You put ’em together so pretty.’


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Resonating calmness.

I have never felt so at peace as I am right now. Peace deep within where I get to accept my flaws behind cracked walls. Identifying every scar that shows the utmost of its ugliness from my appearances whether in person or behind a laptop screen. My very own contentment that glides through every inch of isolation like an oasis bound to be known from its primitive state. Bits of warm white lights perceiving their stance from the brightness of their very own will. There’s wonder in all of it. It’s a different kind of aura to be felt, dreamt, enlightened and touched with. Peace, the mastermind of my own game, controlling my breath with a wistful and delicate swirl from its hidden right.

I don’t normally get to be enraptured in the glory of its spell upon me. I don’t usually have the privilege to be given such a beauty that can rarely be seen or experienced by most. I don’t step over boundaries where I don’t belong in. I seldom remember any significance to hint me of all the destinies that had been paving its way to reach me. Any intense moment that can take hold of me and have enough courage to make me realise the beatific scenes covered by my own darkened drapes. I don’t have the strength to overcome any of it.

Greyish shadows of swaying branches and blooming thorns blown by the wind behind those drapes took in the attention that it deserved from the beginning. Silhouettes of forgotten feelings tugging as hard as it can bear, awaiting a result that peeks out not with delight or amazement of its arrival but with a serenity that remains to be unseen. A secrecy that wanted to be held in forevermore. A waltz of a lifetime with the accompaniment of Debussy’s touch, relentlessly covering the grounds of a palace that had to be shown as of now. As stranded as I could ever be from my invisibility, uncovering a layer of my fragmented life shows the best of me.

The grace of a forsaken naivety has finally treasured its ruthless roads of experimenting reality. A blissful approach signalling a scintillating spark that dims into a moonstone to be held tightly within the grasp of my weakened hands. I’ve always wondered the meaning behind all of this unknown mystery and here it is making its move with the first step to more of what has been unnoticed.

I saw it, and most of all, I had the pleasure to get to know and felt it.



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Read up; part 61.

You are so much used to live alone, that you do not know the value of a companion; and perhaps no man can be a good judge of the comfort a woman feels in the society of one of her own sex, after being used to it all her life.


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The next thing.

Faith, rationality.

I gather up the strength to have perseverance in maintaining the roles that I am assigned to in my life. Most of the time I felt cheated by the thought of how pathetically fake one’s soul can be in performing those duties. There is nothing to be blamed for it. A pattern is systematically put into this human database for us to follow, and it all depends on how professional we handle it. Some would like to adhere as to how these principles work, others would somehow want to venture on other possibilities that can help them go through most of what is not seen based on their wildest dreams. What comes next after being either completely off boundaries or sternly fastidious, is how one would want things to go just as they planned it to be.

I’m still in my 20s. Nothing exciting about it, a hint of thrilling remarks here there as to what I can expect but still the same old journal entry of the day from start to finish even if I wake up the next morning to start on something entirely brand new. Don’t get me wrong, there’s no complaint to be filed and a desire for someone to indulge me in things just to make me feel spoiled, it’s just the lingering discontentment of knowing how you operate on a daily basis of making no complete sense as to what you’re initially doing. I’m starting to pick up similar sentiments on how much I reiterate the fact of being frightened in my posts.

It’s never wrong to embrace that side of yourself and it’s definitely okay to figure out how you can confront it rather than hiding this persona that has been continuously developing deep within throughout the years. The scary thing about wanting to make your first approach towards it is how you just ended up with a muddled mind desperately wanting another’s insincere commiseration. Not that everyone would feel that way but that’s just how the world takes its view on it. From all the rules that I am bound to follow, the instructions I am tied to just to survive, I get frightened just trying to keep up. The restrictions I have on me, this anxiety that builds up making me feel as if I’m drowning in this whirlpool of anguish and the depression that hits right after it, that scares me more than anything.

How I can possibly go up to my own finish line and put up a presentation that may disappoint my one and only goal that I’d held onto. Faith was there, always is, but what if that’s not good enough to live up to all the rebellious moments I’d done. The ability to search for comfort even when there’s a list of actions of betraying what was always right next to you. I know it’s all about finding out and learning the step and going through its progress with steadfast loyalty, I’m just afraid that the standards of what I’d set on this pedestal won’t match up to the expectations I’d permanently decided to engrave inside me.

Yet I’m still blindly wandering past all the alleyways and maybe, hopefully, find a doorbell to press on just to lead me.



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