Sometimes I Ponder

Posted: February 14, 2017 in Literary work

‘Am I asking the right questions?’

I’m sitting in class, just barely three rows away from you. All I hear is the lull of hushed voices amidst the ever-present clicking of pens and pencils on paper.

I’m fidgeting with my own stylus, only slightly aware of my straying concentration. I still felt the remnants of lunch in my gut, sapping away my energy —  urging me to close my eyelids and rest awhile. Read the rest of this entry »

Turbulent Thoughts

Posted: February 29, 2016 in Uncategorized

Staggering. Walking aimlessly without real conviction. There’s a sense of total defeat and an overwhelming desire to just flip a switch and not care anymore. 

Looking forward, all she can see is a menacing darkness that looms at the edges of the uneven ground she walks upon. Looking over her shoulder, shapes and pathways are hideously disfigured. Unsettling to watch as it contorts in suspended space, but also undeniably enchanting in a frightening way. 

Everything inside her head is screaming from all directions. Her judgment sways back and forth between understanding and flabbergasted confusion. 

She slaps both hands to her temple and tries to soothe the throbbing pain that spikes every now and then. For a few brief moments of reprieve, when everything is quiet and seems to make sense — she spends her time absorbing the undistorted scenery and counts her stars for temporary peace of mind. 

Slammed once more by the torrent of thoughts that slowly eat away at her sanity, she finally pleads: “Help me…”

But no one responds.

Confirming her already lacking faith in humanity, she firmly presses her lips together and trods along the path she has set out on. Her face is weary but her eyes twinkle with a determination that never truly dies in true veterans of war. 

Her knees feel weak and her shoulders sag for a moment. Still, she straightens once more and carries on because these are the cards she’s been dealt.

Even though there’s little chance she’ll ever catch a break, she eagerly looks towards the setting sun…hoping for a tomorrow better than today. 

Two Steps Behind

Posted: February 22, 2015 in Literary work

Staircases: A place where you can go in either direction and no one would think less of you for it.

Unless, of course, you chose to just sit there. Yeah, we liked to sit there. Read the rest of this entry »

Filial Piety : Something of the past?

Posted: December 7, 2014 in Pensive

I recently read a manga and, don’t get me wrong, but it made me question my principles more-so than I have in awhile when reading/watching entertainment articles. The manga originally captured my interest because it was the basic love story with the tragic twist of terminal illness — but at least there was an ending, albeit kind of wishy-washy.
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Posted: December 31, 2012 in Literary work

Why am I exactly resigning myself to waiting out here?

It’s the middle of the night and it’s not an exaggeration to say that my toes are fairly frozen at this point. As I exhaled, a thick fog of air formulated momentarily before me –Yep, it’s cold out here.

I wandered around slightly from the “agreed place” and laid my body to rest against a lamp post. On this lonely street, there were nothing but a few merchant stores that had closed up a long time ago and the odd pay phone booth that sat in between a bus stop sign and the post I was currently occupying.

I think she said that we’d meet at this time and at this place. However when in such situations, you begin to go back on even the simplest of certainties. So was she even going to show up? I couldn’t tell you that I was confident that she would.

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P.O.V: Survivor

Posted: December 31, 2012 in Literary work
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He slowly drew the rapier from his scabbard, calculating the enemy’s movements — watching for that one moment — Ah! An opening. As he fully swung his body to his left, the momentum surged through his arm and he quickly dispatched a brilliant flash of silver horizontally, right across his opponents’ chest.

Feeling the extended but definite slice of metal against bone, his inner-self cringed in response for but a second. The next fleeting moment he had withdrawn his arm from the trajectory of his first slash and readied his body for the finishing blow. Digging his right foot into the ground, he spun counter-clockwise and used the hesitation of his opponent to deliver another deep blow to the chest again.

Faltering after the two hits, the enemy recoiled in response and attempted to initiate defensive procedures.

Adrenaline rushed to the head and in that moment, all that could be seen and heard were the words: “Finish him”.


And with nothing but the fatal cry of a dying man, thus marked another cruel milestone for the young man.
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I could feel it.

That heavy leadened heart beat was slowly pumping against my chest. But this time it felt different…it was erratic and could not be predetermined.

Why was that?

All this time it seemed as though I was lacking something, yet somehow in this very instant, that notion itself had just manifested itself so strongly within me that I felt it hard to breathe.

From the corners of my eyes, I could feel the surging waves of tears begin to emerge…–but why am I crying?

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