Just staring into space

The feeling of loss when you are in bed with the heaviest body, sinking into the mattress, and through the crumpled sheets, to the centre of something failing. Your head is falling into the depth of despair and you cannot wake up but not fall into sleep enough. I have always been a sickly being.… Continue reading Just staring into space

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Mellow

  Mellow rhythm and sound walks on a tightrope spread out into hundreds of directions. It is the softness, but not too soft, it is that feeling of being alive with the sound, like the beat flowing through your veins, not an attachment from the outside but there with you, and therefore, you cannot get… Continue reading Mellow

There is a sense of beginning after finishing a novel.

There is a sense of beginning after finishing a novel. Story becomes something, in the presence of blank spaces in-between the time actually reading and moving around in daily life. There is always a piece of each other, stories to connect with, memories and experience to store away and the colour of the heart. Emotions… Continue reading There is a sense of beginning after finishing a novel.

Scream

  I usually sit on the left side of the bus. It is the direction of sunrise. It is when morning tries to break itself from behind, between the thick clouds that covers its body. There are occasional holes the cloud has missed to fill, and the orange warmth streams through, onto my shoulder, my… Continue reading Scream