Joaquim was trying to skip rocks at the green lake. It was a surreal experience, one that Margie thought only existed in movies, but this landscape was as breath-taking as can be at ten in the morning. Their silk clothes are more radiant than the white flowers that bloomed only on April, regarded as having the ability to restore youth to those who smelt them. All of that were legend, of course, that Margie didn't really believe in but she still hand-picked a dozen.
Margie could feel the warm breeze block her low voice but Joaquim heard her inquiries. "How far have you thrown?"
"What do you see when you close your eyes? Darkness?"
"How does it feel?"
"Like empty-handed sophisticuffs."
"That'd be nice. I only see pitch."
"I'm sorry. You had so much light in you."
"I had, hadn't I?"
"Tell me, did it reek from my mouth?"
"It spilled from your bones."
"Thanks." There were sighs.
Geb reached for the tumbler next to them. "Gots to stay hydrated." They'd say anything to change the conversation.
"I'll ask you to dinner if I could, but these days–"
"Dinner feels more intimate than sex."
"Yes. Makes me uncomfortable."
"Y ...Read more
"You're getting good at that."
"You think so?" she inquired in calm. "Didn't even cut myself this time." She proceeded with the onions and lettuce, and placed them carefully beside the pot. There's still a trace of bathwater on the side of her face, but Phyllis didn't take notice.
"What do you think of this month?" continued, as she watched their younger sibling from the kitchen window playing with her nieces, five and three. "Is it good?"
"What do you mean is it good? My year has been different from yours."
"Yes. But you watched from the upper floor."
"We've been taught days reset every ...Read more
Existhantial log 170124
Are we too old to be capable
Of mental strains we once knew as youths
Of giving up, snuffing the lights with sad songs
Feel as pointless as our lives are in its most
Are we focused too much on what's in front of us
Slaves of what we desperately believe should be ahead
Tired of these aching, self-strained shoulders
And the cruel future I see as a broken reflection of health
Have you ever felt like you've been trying
To be too many things all at once
That being and becoming anything less than who you want to be
Is a complete betrayal to who you are?
Am ...Read more
I wandered into a movie theater. Typical set up: comfortable reclining red chairs, people split into groups according to acquaintances. The lights were on yet there was nothing on the white sheet, except static.
I walked in a hurry, down the aisle, until I recognized them, or at least some of them: my friends, some doctors, relaxed faces, forgotten peers, all huddled together and checking out a familiar grey folder that contained my drawings and pen sketches. Some of them had serious gazes while some laughed, clearly enjoying the entries. Couldn't exactly make out which made which noise even ...Read more
Anarchy of the mind.
I wrote some welcome-to-my-blog remarks, which you can read here.