Of stucked sink stopper and decision

Yes, the title itself is self-explanatory. I actually had this very thought when I was in the bathroom to wash my face. 

I was lucky enough to be presented with two sets of sink in my bathroom's counter. The one that I usually used, one day, was stricken by the incidence of the stopper being stucked and I have tried the method of letting hot water through it in hope that some physics will do some elevation and to my persistent attempt: I have failed unsuprisingly.

I have proceeded to ignore the sink's sad existence for.... how many weeks so I could not put my fingers on it since I have another sink that is available for me, well, that is until last night. I know I had to do something rather than just ignoring a problem that was existing right before of my eyes hence I repeated what I actually attempted before:

 1. Let the hot water fill in the space
2. Use your hand to push down the stopper
3. Repeat until expected result is achieved.

In the midst of doing that, a thought occurred to me: What if all of this time, I had been using the wrong method?

My brain was kind enough to relate it with life situations ( Brain is such a quirky being, don't you think? ). What if all these times, the decision that I have made are persistently wrong just when I thought I am doing the right?

Repeated actions yield a better result.

They say that but what if the action itself from the very beginning have proven to be wrong? What will that make me of? 

What was the reason that I gave up on even trying to fix the issue when I have plenty of time to do so? Just because I have another option, another substitute that I have forsaken the one that I always used?

That makes me someone who refused to go through trouble just when I have the equal subsitution. Abandon the problem at hand. 

Well, actually, as I am typing this out, the sink stopper has yet to be pulled out and I am googling the ways to actually get it out from being stuck.

Why do I relate minute event to a mindset of mine? Procrastination, I supposed.

反対

As the title itself suggest, it is a Japanese word which read as hantai which in turn means: opposition, resistance or even antagonism.

This word itself suffice to describe my emotion on that day, on that particular event that I had to hear unncessary yapping regarding futures and decision that pretty much was repeated into my ears. The repetition is so severely being restated that my brain was kind enough to bypass each and every single word that was muttered by certain someone that my fingers were quick enough to reach my friend's pen ( in which, that person is Darshvinni and I must say: her pen is the best for writing and it actually tempted me to get one but the price was enough to make me shed blood tears ). In somewhat act of defiance ( 反対 ), I began to write these words: 

Come in and come to take refuge in this sunlight that the Lord has blessed us


Come and find solace while the myraid has been nothing but a soothing ray to cleanse your sin


For when the hurricane comes,
Darkness will engulf you
And do know that it bears no mercy


Mercy is not a friend of an empty void for it is only an angel's weapon, an angel's grace,
To find one in the midst of unilluminated world, it will resemble to look for stars in a stormy night
A stormy night that a dawn might not come for; it bears the name of apocalypse my dear.

So pray to Eos while you can,
Pray,
Human often forget to do so.

It certainly had suffocation tone in it because I was fucking suffocating while had to hear series of lectures in which I knew I should have bailed on. 

As soon as I have finished written that, the series of kvetch has yet to find its end so I proceeded to write another piece. This piece was purely inspired by Fullmetal Alchemist's Brotherhood philosophy. The reason why it is on that tanget? I wasted 5 hours of sleep to watch the anime, well, specifically the last fifteen episodes or so to get a gist of what Father ( Homunculus ) view the world as. I would not say it is a hommage more like, what if I am living in the same way as the universe did. Without doubt, as I am typing this out Shoko Nakagawa's Ray of Light is on the play so I am more hyped! 

 Humans, we are described as the most unrelenting creatures in this world. For what reasons we have gained such entitlement? Should we put forth gratitude to our ability to think? Our fortitude that we often create for the sake of survival in midst of chaos? Or for our ability to come together in building a bond that is stable as a concrete will be and learn to appreciate compassion?

These are humans trait and with this we learned to persevere in this world that God Created with sets of endless rules that gets diffused over time. 

But let me pose a question - just how does one live in this kind of embedded rules? Then what will be of our greed, our envy, our lust, our wrath, our gluttony, our pride and our sloth be? Should we abandon for the sake of harmony? What shall happen to our pre-exising flaws? Or the homunculus, the little human with needs that exist within us? Our deepest desire? Abandon them for the sake of peace?

Is this how human should be? These sets of rules truly made us benovelent, do they?

I often feel discouraged by these disgraced sins. 

I have been devoured by greed to be recognized. Engulfed by the entirety of pride to be upheld to what I am told to be proud of. Tell me, my love, how could I not lust for a love that has been depicted to me of its significant? [....]

 And so it ends there since the bigwit finally let us go. 

If anything, the last paragraph truly describe me.  My flaws are part of my entity. To be told to have such desire often left me felt conflicted and yet I don't want to be seen as this megalomaniac who craved for such recognition but.... the act of getting recognize is indeed soothing in my ears. So, I have to think again and again on what is best for me.


 

 

 

If only // Y o u

In fleeting moment of trying to concentrate in your classroom and sudden influx of muse had led me to grab my pencil hence starting vomitting words onto this blank paper in which, as always, will type them out here to share my piece with my dearest love: Nivashinie.

Anyways, here I go.

Breathe in, breathe out. You have been running with all your might, haven't you? Have been chasing your emotions that have been fleeting- You are so afraid that you will forget your first spark, the way your heart beats violently and that very moment when your breath hitched when you hear him speaks for the first time; You love it all, you treasure all of them that you don't want to lose them. But then... you have lost it, right?

It starts when you begin to reminisce the days. You begin to wish on how nice would it be if the lost cycle will find its way back to both of you when you held his hand. You start to wonder: where is the warmth that kept you awake at night? Where is the heart beat that makes you giddy and nauseous whenever your eyes matched his?

Where are his glimmering eyes filled with love and dreams; where have they gone to? You don't know, you don't want to know because you are aware that it will bring you scars but you want him forever.

Which is why you started running.

You dashed your legs, becoming a sprinter in hope to cage down the feelings that you cherished so much because he meant the world to you that heck! If he wants you to chant his name a thousand times, you fucking would until your lips turn blue. That is how much you love him.

Then again, you have grown tired, right?

So tired that you have no clue on what do, having no slightest idea led you to cry yourself to sleep at nights. You are fully equipped with the knowledge that he tried too which is why it hurts fucking more. You seen it with your own eyes that he tried to keep you by his side but god damn it, he is just lost and tired as you are.

"I have loved you, but saying it won't be enough anymore, huh?"

When the two of you laughed over those words that night, realizing that this is beyond salvageable torn your heart to pieces and it is beyond  repair. For your heart has become a dust, a small particles that are unable to ensemble itself again.

But you, I don't get it, why are you so stubborn into holding on?

Is it so hard for you to look this way? Towards someone who has been watching over you? Will it kill you? Must have been.

You have loved him so much. Just as much I have grown to love you.

Equally a fool as you are, I believe.

If only, if only, if only.

I could only say: if only. 

On the other side of the day, this came around. Heck, I don't know how I came up with this psychopathic writing.

How much have I yearn for your soul to be mine and mine alone.
               This greed of mine knows no sins.
                Throw me in hell if you must for I will still haunt her as she sleeps, watching over her as she walks.
                Derailed, crazy and detached from reality. They called me those names.
                I don't mind.
                My flaws will draw me closer to her blood.
               Then she will be mine.

c o l d

Yet again, here I am, writing pieces of me that are unable to be articulated out loud due to my own flaws that I have yet to fathom fully. Aside from today's minute events, I noticed again that I have this tendency to go from having this electrifying energy to sudden immersion in my own misery ( that being said, I went from to HEY! to 'Oh shit, I hate myself, I actually have forgotten that I was ridden by my own self-hate and unconfidence'). I still remember that anonymous who sent me a confession sayat.me who somehow had this half-rhetoric half-query kind of tone on how I could be so happy and cheerful all the time. I remember that my answer was something along the line of who is going to make me happy if it is not my own self? I actually have so many insecurities that I masked with happiness and lame jokes because I have learned to do that for past years. No, I am not glorifying my own flaws, I am merely reminding myself that I am like another human, capable of feeling like an utter shit when the days come. Just take an example of a light bulb that wears out from the constant flow of electricity.


But anyhow, amidst in being challenged by my sudden toxic thoughts, my muse decided to become slightly nice to me. The unanticipated words rushed into my mind and being the smart me, I have left my writing book in my backpack so my nearest writing outlet being my note-scribbling book. Here, I must say, it is not the best I have written so far. I just could feel the less enthusiasm in my muse despite being gushed by it.

I am writing this here mainly because of no one else but Nivashinie, my love, who has been my constant fan of my 'works' despite how shit it is.  Hit me up with criticism after reading this, love.

Somehow in that stretched distance, I hope that it was you who called out for me.

I wonder, I truly, truly wonder, if it would be selfish to think that my voice is capable of reaching to you- slowly but surely filling the lacunae that exist within you? All I wanted was to be part of you that beats within your atria, moving in syncytium as you keep breathing.

All because these empty spaces, even when they surround me in form of void; all I can hear is your voice, exuding in serene and carefully they reassure my hapless self that one day, you will be here with me. Mine, I can call you.

But, my love, my dear, what a wishful thinking, right?

In this placid place that you can't ever see, I hold out my palm and I shall say: All I ever dream of is how nice would it be to just break these barriers that I had gave birth to and without thinking carefully, I thrust them upon my own land, in my very perimeter, in hope that they keep me unharmed.

These guarding walls, they proliferated themselves from rock to metal; becoming even more infallible in keeping me unscathed.

How I wish I can do all these protective layers within a second because now, I know how they haunt me now.

In turn, these multiplied barricades kept me from reaching out to you,
These words that have been piling up on me; in my heart, in my throat and on my tongue.

These means of communication, they seem to have forgotten their own voices.
Slowly they begin to perish in their own self-absorption, rendering them null.

I write and write,
Hoping that one day you will read them.

But how can you know of these words when I can't even start writing?
My papers are all torn and my erasers are nowhere to be seen.

It is even excruciating that I can't bring forth to draw an alphabet.
It is even suffocating that the letters I have been writing are being eaten away by the sunshine's gentle myriad.

How could I ever-
I could never-
These bars that are supposed to keep me safe,
How am I supposed to break them just for you?

I rather shy away than letting pain harm me.
Maybe you shan't hear my words after all.

It is somehow listening to Infinite's Paradise managed to alter few parts of the writing but the message that I tried to convey remain intact.

For So Long.

For so long these fingers have not type the words that mounted bit by bit in her chest for time has not always been her companion and perhaps she could pin a little blame onto lack M U S E. Tragically, lack of muse had and will always be a problem for this fellow owner of these words for it has been nothing but a driving point of disatisfaction.

Always, always and always she rambles on what could be the best way to express her frustration, her fears and her worrisome (albeit not that much of worry) tragic (is this even a right way of expressing it) into words? How could she do that when most of the time, she is swapped by something called duty of life which translates into nothing much but medical school life and little bit of personal problems here and there. Often that smaller pieces when they get together, they form a mountain that immovable being one of its characters. Such analogy could be said for my lack of muse.

It started as "I have devoted my hours to series of lectures and practicals five times as week" to "I have exams coming up, there is no time to write fictions or small strings of words." and now my current reason is that "I am working part-time in 9-5 pace and school is coming up."

Funny how her own busy schedules were put to use as her excuse not being able to write but surely, she had learned it long time ago that tiredness was never a friend to something as boisterious as muse. Though she had episodes of being able to write whilst her eyes were begging to shut.

What could she right about now? The small episodes of her working life? There is nothing much that she could put her fingers on if you are to ask her about it. She could say it is thoroughly better than working at ever-changing pace in a local bookstore chain but certainly, if you ask her if she would like to work in an office environment. She would definitely laugh at you, saying: I'm good, I'm glad I am choosing a path to what it seems to be nothing of an office like though it will drive me lack of sleep and constant stress. There is nothing wrong with it, trust her, but to be a routine for her? It will kill her, routine is a killer for her. However, no denial that this job truly opened her eyes on different scene of working areas and what is more interesting that she learned few Biomedical Equiments out as she read through the products available.

On the other hand, she could not help herself but jive in to the beats of that from TEN of NCT. His SM STATION release is truly a bliss in the ears, despite being released in a Korean entertainment company by default, the lyrics are in English and the genere is somewhat Oriental Trap? She is bad at dictating music genre as she have never had the interest to study music and its subgenre. Dream In A Dream had truly been a visual pleasing and despite the lyrics are just repetitive of "I don't wanna come down from your love" strangely and fascinating enough, the song is so pleasant (Read too: She was just being bias on NCT member and whatmore, it is Ten, the only Thailand member that spent good time in basement until this song came out and NCT LIFE in Chiangmai).  Another music in her ears is that from Winner's REALLY REALLY. Just the right beat, just the right jam to get her body moving during dull hours in the office.

Another additional note: I am watch 13 Reasons Why and I am hooked. So far, to this date, I am on episode four and certainly I want to continue watching it.


What is there more to write? This is certainly had been the longest update that she had written for few years. Certainly, this platform is quite abanadoned by its own writer but she will come back for it from time to time, hopefully, if God Wills. Speaking abandoned, same goes to her Homer's Oddysey in which she will read after this.


*It started of second pov and I just went on with it
*Link to the songs are on the respective titles, do check it out if you want too.
*Work is fun work is good but I'm excited for Year 2.

一人で

The sweets in his mouth felt different than usual.The supposed taste should be associated with reassurance and confident but all that mingling was a hint of uneasiness, somehow. 

It has the essence of familiarity in it-- But this marginal contrasting taste, deviating in what he had hope for left nothing but disturbance.

The arising urge to crush the sweets with his own teeth proliferated but his intended action came to a halt as he realized what was this bitter sensation is all about. Ah, right. The feeling of being incomplete and lost. The same old taste of despair and hopelessness.

Ah, He should have seen this coming.

But he didn't.

He did not see this coming at all.

No alarm rang off. No gray clouds hovering his head.

Just when he thought that he had found serenity. That kind of peace where the roots are holding close to its ground, shall not be shaken when flicked- but- It all crumbled within minutes and silently yet surely, his solid foundation is removed- The foundation- His sanity.

[                                                  ]

Silent.. No sound.... 

Nothing.

Where have the sounds went off too? Where had they gone to? Have the medium ceased to exist that he can't hear anything? Is the world ending? No. No. No. No. 

He clutched onto his clothed chest tightly, hoping to fill the soundless void with his scream:

『   Aaa....                                           』

How weak.

He plummeted to the ground, knees meeting the coarse pavement that he even grazed upon. 

He was fucking sure that he might need to tend the scratches but all he cared at this moment was how weak he was. For breaking down again.

In this road that had seen him walking down thousand of times since he was a child until he blossomed into an adolescent. Why here? Why here? Why now? This is uncalled for.

If someone were to peek out of their windows they would have surely seen a man kneeling down like a fallen child but all he can hear was a pop song that was repeating chants of: Zunzundoko! zunzundoko!

So merrily! so cheerily! that it had made his heart suffocated more and his breathing became clogged- pure digust was permeating from the occlusion. Without pure reason everything had became disgusting.

Even his sole being was becoming repellent to his own nature.

{Help me. HElp me.. HELp me...HELP.. me....HELP ME!}

Weak! Weak! Weak! 

With all that he could do is to clutch his goddamn black shirt that began to drench in his own cold sweat. His heart became even more palpable that his mediastinum was pushing against his formed fist- That fast that his heart was beating- His sympathetic pathway began to overwhelm him rapidly and there was no use to fight back when all there was rolling down was his tears.

Useless. Weak. Could not even fight back for your own self. This is why everyone leaves you behind.

Save me.

Please.

No?

Ah, everything is so bleak.

Pitch black... just like my heart. 

Haha, or maybe my future. 

This is how it feels like. To break without warning, to fall without notice- All the synonyms of it. Why? Why? 

Hah.. I'm tired... So tired.... Please let me sleep... And never wake up... 

Will I ever wake up?

Nivashinie, what have I written? send help. I just predescribed to you the moments in my down days. when i will get back to writing fics? stay tune as I procrastinate more, love.

Jaded.

One,

Put those blames on your shoulders, carry them dutifully, without falter- 
without plummeting onto the ground even if the sun will shine on you, 
brightly as ever,
that it could suck out all and bits of your spirit.

Two, 

Remember of your sins, those sins that you carelessly but willingly taint their stains
onto your bare clean skin. 

Remember the taste of it, remember the scent of it, remember the viscosity of it,
remember how hard it was to cleanse it 
despite you had tried to repent a thousand times
that made your view grew bleak as if there was no hope.

Three,

Bare in your very skull, this rigid almost impenetrable skull 
on how hopeless you were;
you were crumbling apart due to your own in-nurtured fundamentals that caused your abode to shake by just a small poke called ‘Desire’ and there you were-

Stripped bare on the ground with nothing
but shame hanging loosely around your neck 
and regret etching on your limbs and tears overflowing 
from your lacrimal glands-

Every bits of it, remember and never let go. 

Four,

People keep saying to you: 

Move on! Move on! Move on! Young soul! Let the past be forgotten!

But remember, my words:

 people do not forget.

By the extremity of it, they may act as if they have forgotten but child, oh young soul, 
they will speak on your very back 
where your eyes could not roll themselves backwards 
and where your rotator cuffs could not exhibit anymore function 
beyond your wits to stop them. 

Remember child, humans do not forget.

Especially if they are baring grudge against you.

Five,

I am nothing but a jaded soul.

Hoping to remind you of what my ears had heard and my eyes had seen. 

Humans will always be human, no matter how many times
they had been preached 
or 
no matter they had been told to repent.

They will create or recreate new sins, new mistakes
but they have none to regret 
unless 
they have received the Light from the Almighty One, if they are lucky enough.

But remember young child, 

I am a jaded soul. 

I could be mistaken as well. 

Jazmina,

0101 hours.

I felt the need to write, it was bursting with ideas and heck, all of this sounded fucking condescending without absolute reason. I was listening to Balamb Garden (Nobuo Uematsu) all this while and the tone of this writing really contradicted the song.