Categories
Rant

Not a Writer

So I’ve decided that I’m not becoming a writer after all. Does this happen to everybody? Who perseveres, and why?

I’m not becoming a writer but I’m still writing. What’s the difference? This effortless ranting does not qualify to be read by anyone but me when I’m older. I do like to write, but I don’t think I have the spirit. I’m not even sophisticate enough.

To think that 10 years ago I considered myself an artist! Now I think I’m just… someone with too many hobbies.

Categories
Poetry

Light

Love that cannot be
Is also love,
Trapped in the heart
Like a firefly in a glass jar.
In the night,
Under the covers,
You unveil it—
And it lights up the bed
(Your personal treasure cave)
With a faint blue tinge
Of bittersweet
Resignation.

Categories
Fiction

Corpse

She held the corpse of love in her arms and kept asking it angrily to talk to her. Her fingernails tore its purplish skin and dug into a horrid mass of congealed misshapen memories. She touched it everywhere looking for the faintest bit of warmth, but whatever glimpse of hope she had was set on what she had transferred to it, wasted on it.

She somehow knew that she had to give up on it, but how do you dispose of something so superb when it still looks as if it were looking at you?

Looking at you, looking through you, a pair of jelly balls that should be projecting an image of you but are just losing water.

Categories
Rant

Au travail

Getting a new job at an office makes me feel like I’ve failed at chasing my dreams of Academia glory. However, they say there is no such thing, so I might as well stick to reality. Still, I adapted so poorly to my last two jobs (i.e., got bored to the point of questioning my own existence) that I’m anxious as to what the next chunks of life in front of a desk that is not my own will bring in terms of mental health and satisfaction. I don’t remember ever feeling this lost, but then again, memory does not hold a lot of storage space for feelings. I’m trying to build a world here, but the atmosphere is so murky. I just hope I’m not treading in a tar pit, unknowingly sinking, heading nowhere but into the sticky blackness.