Tuesday, July 11, 2017

I am a believer of memory.

I know that I wasn't born out of love, nor out of lust; I was born out of the memory of these feelings. I was born out of a recollection of a past that was supposed to be forgotten.

I believe in the existence of emotions; I also believe in their cessation. I believe that the memory of having these emotions is what gives them their seemingly unending existence.

I believe that love is felt by remembering the memory of what love feels like. Loathing, from the memory of what made you feel such.

I believe that memory shared is a vessel of emotions shared, emotions understood, misunderstood, reciprocated.

I believe that there is no present. Everything is a memory of a past - always a split-second future turning into a split-second past. There is no present.

I am a believer of memory. I am also a believer of freedom from it. Because memory is as beautiful as it is ugly.

Sunday, June 11, 2017

Thursday, May 25, 2017

Unimpressed, Overdressed, Powerless

  • You need a smaller angle to see what's in a higher place from below. You need a wider angle to see things below from a higher place. Trigonometry has many applications in life.
  • People have different coping mechanisms: indifference, wailing, binge eating, endless talking. I'd rather keep silent. Preference for being alone does not always mean brooding.
  • I am writing in bullet points again because there is too much to say, and I don't want to get lost in too much.
  • Noli Me Tangere translated to English is one of the best books I have ever read. But oppression is always the saddest novel theme. 
  • [Honest people] do not always get what their honesty and honest means and honest reasons deserve. Because balance is a myth, except in Alchemy, and Chemistry, and Maths. I love hard science. There is always balance. I love balance.
  • There are too many people dying in violent situations. I do not want to wallow in this, because I am highly empathetic. Once I dive into the fact that so much ugly is happening, I fear I would lose my mind, my self. I do not want to go too deep. I cannot swim. I cannot swim. I cannot swim.
  • I am not lonely. 


Sunday, April 16, 2017

Participation Is Risky

For the Odd Girl, Sad Girl.

Friday, April 14, 2017

My mouth is dry.

They have pulled out of my mouth words I wasn't willing to speak. No matter how consciously I averted my gaze from theirs,  they have forcefully lifted my face with demands of making me see what I have known for so long: it was not my world - I did not belong there. I was a tourist,  an onlooker,  an unwilling observer.

I didn't ask for conversations.  I only wanted invisibility, silence, coffee.