February 5th. 

It is almost like entering the national library. In my opinion, it is one of the neatest and most organised spaces you can find right here. 

Books, magazines and catalogues are divided according to their 

authors

audience

categories

genres

titles 

You visit the shelf that appeals to what you want or need or what you think you should read. 

Then among these rows of books you have navigated to, you discover a dictionary stuck between two fiction books by the same author. 

Some sort of careless separation, or just an act of laziness by someone that wanted the dictionary no more. Or maybe the dictionary got lost and simply did not recognise where it belongs. 

– 

Nowadays, I feel a little like that. I just feel misplaced. 

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Habit. 

We used to live together. 

You and I. 

Our lives intertwined and weaved with all the things we liked. Everyday occurances  became rituals. Freshening up. Shaving. Showering. Eating. Cooking. Checking the fridge. Writing notes. Making the bed. Working. Calling on the phone. Coming home. We were so many things yet only one. 

What changed? 

Maybe that’s the problem. 

Nothing changed. 

We did not grow together. We grew apart. I thought we were always going to be like each other’s favourite diehard habit. Habits don’t change. Not really. 

So the sun kept shining, and I kept going.  Freshening up. Shaving. Showering. Eating. Cooking. Checking the fridge. Writing notes. Making the bed. Working. Calling on the phone. 

But you did not come home.

All that is left 

Behind –

A lingering stale scent 

Of who you used to be 

From the skin you shed piled up at the door. 

– 

I just took up the broom and swept it under the carpet. Prepared dinner and waited 

Waited 

Waited 

Waited for you

The Concept of Space.

Personal spaces. Empty gaps. Sterile spots. Unused vessels. Plain fields. Endless oceans. Unmarkable deserts. Open throats. Blank pages. New coffins. Bomb shelters. Tree branches. Territorial barriers. Chubby fingers. Music scores. Negative space. Buttoned shirts. Winding stairs. Tiled floors. Brainwaves. 

Quiet Minds. 

Between Bones. 

The Womb. 

Concepts. 

I have always questioned the things around me – what, how, when, who and where. My favourite is always why, though.

(As a kid, however, this quality of myself made me very difficult and annoying to raise. I used to get reprimanded for wanting to know so much so young. Strange how this thing just wouldn’t go away.) 

I think as adults, we do not really ask this enough. It is simply easier to dismiss something that seems foreign to us and outside of our graduate degree. 

I wouldn’t say that we stopped being curious, but we just seldom use that muscle anymore. Not as much, anyway. 

We are too busy fighting to survive – paying the bills on time, preparing for a wedding, rushing for a promotion, clearing the workload and chasing trends to fit in. 

Sometimes a question might pop up but we shelve it for another time (that might never come.)

And that is no one’s mistake. Somehow we got put in a world where this is more important than acknowledging every one of our own species, challenging this system that whoever created and going back to basics – respect, kindness and understanding. 

Anyway, I started thinking of concepts that are too open-ended for my own good. And somehow, even though we like to belong to the big ideas, we don’t think about them enough. 

  • Infinity 
  • “The right time”
  • Truth
  • Time
  • Numbers – the struggle for perfection 
  • The soul in someone’s eyes 
  • Atoms 
  • The combination of DNA 
  • Ancestors and where we are from 
  • An appearance of the black hole 
  • How we are, essentially, animals
  • What exactly is a name

The list is non-exhaustive, but I thought I’d just share what have been on my mind recently. Sounds very pretentious, I know. 

But these things are more tangible and real than you might think. They are everywhere! 

Anyone has a take on anything? Getting opinions would be interesting! Or it might make good conversation… Maybe.

When.

(When do we ever truly to ourselves, or do we always belong to someone else – the land, the lover and the longing?)

When the blood of family becomes suffocation 
When the ties of friendship become obligation 
When the love of relationship become convenience 
When the life of self become a brainless product of the system

– 

I look at the lines of my palm 

And turn my back to the unhappy life 

I have learnt to want ;

Journeying back to my roots and my heart’s calling 

The song my entire being has always wanted to sing