For you

I don’t know how we end up meeting each other or even if we are destined to meet, but I would like you to know, I do have some hopes for us to conquer.

Hi, I am a girl who is miles away from you. I do not know if we have passed as strangers once or if we know each other and we are not in talk with each other or we might be just strangers.

I am a Gemini and the most stereotypical yet true aspect of me is that I exhibit dual personalities. This does not mean I shift from one persona to an other. It just means I think about both aspects of the coin. For many of the aspects, I just can’t decide on one. I have different sides to different people of my life. I thought you should know that.

I believe in destiny and fate and soul mates but at the same time, I don’t. At times, I think it’s all bullshit invented to make you believe and to keep going and at other times, I think it’s simply wonderful. Loosing yourself in something so wonderful and messy.

I have a lot going on in my mind and that may upset you because I can’t get it all out to you. I like having some of it in my mind, it is my haven. If I really like you, I will open it to you. I don’t know how but I know I am capable of that.

I watch a lot of movies and shows. So, from that I have a defined perspective on what I would like to have from a relationship. I have never been in one and I am not sure as to how it works. I have seen friends be in them and I feel for every relationship, it is unique. You have your own way of working but there is some common ground shared by all relationships.

To be honest, I am scared of being in a relationship. There are going to be so many changes and I don’t know if I will ever be ready for that but on the other side, I am looking forward to it. I don’t know what is expected of me in this. I am going in blind sided and I hope we both can help each other.

I have expectations of some cliches coming true. The cliches of where you talk all night, under the stars or in the comfort of your bed under the warm blankets. The cliches of having simple, fun and memorable adventures. I watch these couples on TV and in movies and it makes me wonder will I ever have that? Will we ever have that?

We might make our own version of it and I am excited to be in that. I would love to have long conversations where you and I ask the deepest questions that make us think and wonder. I would love to keep asking you questions and getting to know how your mind works. I would like you to do the same for me, if you are interested in that.

I do not want us to change aspects of ourself that keep us real, I want us to stay original but also change for the better. Change when it is necessary, change when the environment and the world wants us to and when we feel like it. I want us to undertsand why we have changed.

I do not want us to spend our entire time in a relationship. I do not want our relationship to be the reason I have or need to exist. I do not want our relationship to define our identities, I want us to spend our time out of our relationship as well, with friends and families. Devoting our entire time to each other might make us a little crazy.

I want to watch movies with you every week for the rest of however long we might be together. A movie of your choice and also of mine. I look forward to sharing our agreements and disagreements.

I want us to talk about everything but I also want to enjoy silences with you.

I look forward to seeing you passionate about things that you love. I look forward to being a part of your suggestions and acting on them.

I carry a past that hurts me and a present that hurts me as well. Someday, when I tell you about it, I do not want you to judge and blame them for their mistakes and the hurt they have caused to me. I want you to listen and just be there. I want you to respond in the way you feel like. I look forward to times where you and I comfort each other after bad days and fights.

These are some few things I thought you should know about me.

I get hurt pretty easy. Some times I show it, some times I don’t. I like to have some time alone with myself. When I am angry, I want to be left alone because that helps me calm down and understand the situation. When I am upset, I don’t know what to do. So I am hoping you might.

I love to read and I love books. So, if you want to buy me anything, you can buy me books of my suggestion or yours. If you feel this is a book I like, go ahead and if you want me to read a book, I will.

Bookstores and libraries make me very emotional and it is often hard for me to come out of them. I like to be in the woods and near the oceans and beaches! They are a safe space and I feel very at home there.

I love food! I am excited to try out so much food!! I want to travel the whole world. I want to have so many adventures with you and also by myself.

I am also obsessed with skylines and city lights in the night! I have a weird obsession towards them! It’s a beautiful fantasy to live in!

I love to write. Writing is a way I confront myself. Writing is a way I console myself. Writing for me means so much.

I have a lot of emotions and I embrace them fully. Some day, I hope you might too and I am ready to embrace whatever you have as well.

There are so many more things I want you to know but I think you will figure it out.

I will always be loyal and be there for you. I will love you and I will tell you when you are wrong, when I am right and when I am wrong. I will try to accept the times when I am wrong and I will try not to keep fights or petty mistakes against you as a weapon.

I also want to say I am truly sorry for every mistake and fight I have caused between us. I am a temperamental person. I tend to loose my temper pretty easy and I say hurtful stuff, but I want you know I never mean those. I never think before I say those stuff and when I think about it later, I wish I had never said it. But what use is it when the moment has already passed? So I apologise and I will also apologise in the future as well when it is my fault.

I do not only want to dwell in fantasies, passions and cliches of mine. I want to dwell in yours too.

I don’t think I believe there is just one love for you. I believe there will be many loves for one person if they keep looking for it. The thing with each love is that it will be unique and differ from one love to an other. So that can be unique and be just the one, but I believe that you may be the only love in my life and I will be happy for eternity.

I hope everything goes fine for us. I hope you and I have led the relationship and life we both want and deserve.

I write this for you in hopes that someday you will read it and understand. There are some things I might not say to you in person but in this piece, I mean it for you.

Most importantly, I just want us to be happy and figure it out by ourselves, not have a cheat code manual on how to be happy and prosper. I want to be on this journey exploring so much with you and also by myself.

Seeds of hope

Stage 1

Seeds of hope are sowed carefully onto you knowingly or unknowingly by a sower.

That sower can be your mom, dad, your friend, your enemy, a stranger, God, the universe or even you.

Hope for love, hope for money, hope for happiness, hope for more; different seeds like these are sown.

When sown, you think nothing of it. What it would do to you and What you would do.

Stage 2

A seed of hope has been planted.

Every day is spent in agony wondering how the seed is growing.

Many a times, growing these seeds are good. The nature of it is what matters. In this case, a bad seed has been sown.

A small seed is enough to cause a massive stir. The smallest insignificant detail slowly tends to outgrow the practicalities in you. It descends upon you and drives you into madness slowly.

I am exposed and stripped to my very core. I need an armour to fight off the delusions planted by my sower.

It takes days for the seed to develop into something.

There is still hope for it not be something.

Stage 3

The seed has begun to sprout under the watchful eyes of the sower.

When the pests try to contain the seed from growing, the sower adds fertilisers to your mind protecting you from the realities outside.

Seasons change, different conditions and temperatures have started to affect the seed sown. It is rising and nothing seems to snip it down. It is seeding now.

With all the right conditions, it will turn into a sapling. A step closer to a greater fall or a greater good. I am not sure until I am provided with the cirucmstances.

Stage 4

The seed has sprouted into a sapling.

A sapling is under nurturing, being nurtured to be a part of something big and unknown.

It continues to grow without no feller cutting it down. It would have been an easy and sad death with minimal consequences.

It is growing to withstand amongst the harshest of conditions and very little gentle breezes.

Some one cut it down before it matures into a tree. I beg of you. This tree will only end up in a sad demise once grown.

Stage 5

During the fragile years of the sapling, it had been fed false hopes that could have been true if fate had not altered the plans.

If the feller or the sower would have shown mercy, this tree would not have to suffer for as long it was intended.

This tree could have been snagged at the very beginning but instead, it has chosen to grow and be in the wild.

Since it has matured to its very peak, no one no longer showers it with love or give it a pretence of a false hope. Instead, it is now slowly beginning to survive in the wild, learning, watching and suffering.

Stage 6

As the tree starts to grow older, the hope starts to die by bits.

The tree learns how to live with what it has been given but the sliver of hope still remains. That sliver of hope drenched in fantasy is what might keep it going. A fantasy of being nurtured and loved.

The regret of that hope sown is evident. The tree no longer stands with the vigour its predecessor carried. It now stands cracked, grey and leafless.

The decayed bits of the tree return back to the soil, its nutrients waiting to be soaked by the future seeds.

One will never be lucky enough to reap the fruits bore by the tree.

I guess that seed was sown just to be killed later.

The two men

It has been three days since I had gone to the gym. Three idle days of sitting in bed, reading and watching.

Today I went to the gym, it was energetic. It is a small gym with three equipments and some weights and a bounce ball in the building on the same floor as I live .

Nine huge glass windows were mounted to one side of the gym and a plain white wall on the other. The treadmill among the other gym equipments faced the windows giving me the opportunity to look out at the people on the streets indulging in their routine and/or activities. 

I have a specific time when going to the gym here. Eleven A.M to Twelve P.M. I spend around an average of Forty minutes at the gym. During this time, I watch new and old people on the streets do their thing. 

I am not much of a good observer. I just look at what the other people see. I see but not observe. I am trying to improve on that. So when at the gym, I teach myself by setting people as targets so I learn. I cannot deduce like Sherlock Holmes or Doctor Watson but they do teach quite a bit. I just let my mind do the bare minimum with some context either given in by the environment or by my mind.

When in the gym, I keep on some music or a podcast so that I tend not to strain my eyes looking at the screen of the phone which I do everyday every hour. So just during these Forty minutes, I let my eyes prey the world outside.

I notice what the people do. I feel like a hunter stalking its prey but not deciding to act on it. Instead just looking outside and watching, keeping it all to myself. I take note of the time when the vans come around and I would like to deduce for what purpose they come. I deduce it by the logo on the van. Pretty easy work. I like to keep my mind occupied with minuscule details like these.

Today I went to the gym at 10:50 AM.  As usual, I watch the old and new people. What always catches my eyes are a pair. There are always those two men sitting on the ground sometimes standing indulging in conversations or sometimes resting.

I only see them there till I leave. I do not know what they do after. All this while I have been coming, I have never witnessed them leave during the time I spend in the gym.

I always wondered what brought them there at this specific time. I am assuming they were brought there by the obligations of their job. I would like to think of a higher purprose that brought them there, everyone who was brought there during the time I was there.

As always when I am on the treadmill, I watched them keenly trying to decipher why they were here. They wore Red shirts with Green luminous bands imprinted on the shirt around their arms and had black pants on.

I figured they were some sort of workers, but of what vocation, I could not figure that out. It would have been easy considering how one could learn about the purpose of different uniforms, but I rather not.

I tried to figure out the nature of the conversation they were having right now. The guy on the left had various hand movements going on. It seemed as if he was explaining some concept or a joke to the man, colleague or perhaps his friend on his right.

I could not understand what expression each of them had fixated on their faces because they wore big hats and looking down on them from a height, it was nearly impossible to figure. So I could only deduce. I say a joke because I could see the man smile a bit even if he had the big hat on.

After a brief of Ten minutes, they stood up and went near the big can that ressembles a canister but worn out and rusty. Then I saw a big white garbage truck come along and these two men placed the big can onto the rear holders and the garbage was dumped into back of the truck. As soon as the the truck completed the job, they hopped along the sides of the truck and went away.

That was it. 

My keenful watching was over. Why did the truck decide to come at this specific time today? On the other days, I never saw the truck but today, I saw it. Why did it decide to rob me of the pleasure of figuring out the story of them?

I could have assigned a nice story with some rich context and background but I was robbed of it. Now I have to hunt for other regular people who stick to their routines and not have a satisfying conclusion so I can create my own story for them.

There is some comfort in trying to figure out the story of strangers. There is a better comfort when assigning your own story to them with your mind.

Going back “home”

This was written in Dubai a while back and I forgot to post it but I am doing it now…

Upright on the hotel bed I sit with my laptop trying to create sense of what I want to write while my lower body is snuggled up in a big white comfy duvet. I am trying to gather sense of what I feel at this point. I am confused. 

I am in Dubai now, my home or so I felt. I had come here along with my dad for a few days to meet my best friend and well to be in Dubai. I missed it and I wanted to know how my home felt. I was so excited to be used to the old comfort this home once gave me. 

It was around 4 or 5 am on a Friday that I reached. In this hometown, as soon as the people left office/school on a Friday, it symbolised homecoming and we welcomed the weekend. Radio Jockeys wished us to start an awesome and chill weekend and that’s what many of us did. As soon as Saturday evening rolls over, we knew it was time to say goodbye and a rather dull hello to a Sunday dawn, where we had to go back to life, school and work.

As soon as I stepped out from the airport, the humidity extended its welcome by fogging up my glasses. I knew I was home. 

It was that time of the day when the whole city was asleep and there were just a few cars on the road. Nothing much has changed except something. 

While going to the hotel in the taxi, I looked out with so much of fondness and nostalgia outside remembering every memory that took place wherever I looked. My dad and I reminisced at the memoires our family once made at these places. 

As I started remembering more, waves of memories hit from every place I went. When I looked out now, I felt like a stranger roaming around in known lands and not of a kid whose home this was. 

There was something so different in the air and in the atmosphere, I couldn’t put my finger on. I was staying in a hotel in Bur Dubai. 

Back then, I lived in a big old off-white building right here in Bur Dubai. My whole life was consumed by that building. The hotel I was staying in was just behind that big old building which was once home. 

As I looked around where my old home stood, there was so much of change not in the physical sense but more so in the energy and vibrancy of the place. It felt abandoned even though people live here. 

From the days I lived here, I remember how Friday mornings were an embodiment of hustle and bustle. Families went out to get breakfast and did their routine shopping from super markets. There was always something or the other going on and now no one in the streets. Maybe a person or two but that’s it. 

I guess it was the heat that kept people from going but back then, there was still hot scorching heat and people still went out. So, what’s different now?

I was a stranger now. I had been from my home so long, so long that I don’t recognize it any more. It felt as if home died the day I left. I am sorry. 

As I am writing this, I am still trying to understand what I am feeling. It is a pang of sadness and disappointment not because I left this home or some nostalgia. I am just sad and upset because I have finally realized I don’t understand my once upon home anymore. 

I feel guilty for wanting to leave this place. I feel like it is bad of me to feel guilty about this feeling because this has been my home for so long and how can I not like it? How can I just not like it anymore? 

Back in Singapore, I thought I missed Dubai dearly and would do anything to go back but now I have realized, I miss the life, friendships and memories I had. I want to go back to that old life in Dubai. That is what I wanted, not this new one I am put in. 

When I have to leave on the 7thback for Singapore, I don’t feel I am going to miss Dubai, the place. 

For a fact, I know I am going to be hurt when I leave my best friend who lives here. I surely am going to miss the places I always like to go to but again it was that life and that moment of that place. 

I am going to miss the luxury of looking at these places that remind me of my memories, yes, I am going to miss that not anything else I feel. 

When I say I miss Dubai now, I miss that old life, not the place anymore. 

I miss that life and the reason I feel I belong here or even want to come back is for that nostalgic memory and for my best friends. That is it, but when they leave, then what?

I guess I will still come but just for that memories. 

I am always going to be a Dubai kid, but not in the way some people have defined it. I am an old Dubai kid who loved her life here. This was my home once but not anymore. Dubai is always going to be a part of me. 

After all these years, I finally realize what home means. I thought home had a lot to do with physicality but no, as long as I am with my mom and dad and my best friends, I am closer to home. When I have to be truly at home, I also have to embrace the place I live at. I have to be happy and content with the life and role I am doing. 

I want to call a place home when I have it all going. 

Now I know what I missed all this while when I was at university crying, it was that life, that feeling. It is all clear now. 

It was not home I missed; it was the life I once had. 

Some Times, Many Times

Some times, I wish I did not have to account other people’s feelings into consideration before I erupt.

Many times, I unfortunately do so and then regret it the moment later. I am now learning to care more and I understand that now.


Some times, I wish I did not live in a world where life is this unfair.

Many times, I have no other choice but to live in this unfair world.


Some times, I wish I had all the time in the world to do everything I want without the need to worry for money

Many times, I fantasise about doing so but ultimately fantasies lead you no where. So I am doing my best and working hard so that I have the money to do everything I want and hope.


Some times, I wish I did not have to live a life where I only remember sorrows and seeds of hate

Many times, I have now realised this is the life I was given and there is nothing I could do to change it


Some times, I wish I could share more

Many times, I understand why I haven’t


Some times, I wish not to be consumed by the idea of love knowing what I expect will never happen

Many times, I let it happen


Some times, I wish I could leave for the woods and a city like New York

Many times, what I do instead is I listen to music and watch videos that make it possible


Some times, I wish I was more creative and not filled with remorse or self doubt about what I could do

Many times, I believe I am more than what I think and believe but my doubts plague me down

Some times, I loose my sleep and mind thinking if I will ever make it

Many times, I doubt if I would make it and Many times, I have hope that I will make it.


Some times, I wish the world could be a better place in terms of everything

Many times, I wish the world could be a better place in terms of everything and I try doing my bit to make this world a better place for everyone and everything. When it succeeds, I am happy and inspired to do more.


Some times, I wish I had not watched that many movies which have now influenced me to think that my life could perhaps be like that

Many times, I am glad I have watched those movies because that is the only way I could ever live a life like that


Some times, I wish I did not have to feel so much

Many times, I am glad I could feel the way I feel


Many times, I feel my heart shatter at the sight of homeless people and the jobs one needs to do to have a living. I wonder what can I do to help? Then I realize, by growing up and getting a job, I can do my bit for them.


Some times, I wish I could do something about the dark desires I want to do

Many times, I have chosen not to act on it because I do not want to take part in painting the world red contributing to everything bad


Many times I wish I did not feel a burst of sadness and sympathy when I look at old people who remind me of my grandparents

Some times are the only times I take an action to spend time with them.


Many times I wish I were not engrossed in my laptop and on my phone

Sometimes I decide to spend some time in the outside world with my family and that time is actually worth spending.


Some times, I wish I was not given this life. I wish I had been offered a choice for a life I wanted to lead

Many times, I am glad I got this life but the hope still lingers


Some times, I am envious when people think of my life not exciting as other

Many times, I simply do not care and move on


Some times, I wish I had a sibling so that I would never fear being alone when my parents leave me

Many times, I am glad I am the only child in my family because I love that I am the sole receiver of all their love


Many times, I wish I could lie down in a room so high with a view that overlooked the city lights listening to music that make me feel everything

Many times, I find myself wishing to be in a cabin in the woods amongst the forest listening to the rain and writing

Many times, I find myself dreaming of being in an apartment so high where I could see the rays of the sun spread across the whole city.


Many times, I wish I could honour every promise I have made to everyone I ever love

Some times in many, I have honoured those promises


Some times, I wish I had a best friend who was all to myself. A best friendship like Miley and Lilly, Alex and Harper and like the F.R.I.E.N.D.S

Many times, I am so blessed to be in best friendships unique and happy to me.


Many times, I dream about a love so great that the whole world will write stories about someday.

Many times, I understand the probability of it not happening. Many times, I come to terms of my reality and what is offered.


Many times, I wish I was handed a childhood where I did not have to see my parents fight a lot.

Some times, I wish the Armageddon would come and sweep it all away.


Many times, I wish I did not have regrets in life to look back upon

Some times, I realise those regrets were needed for me to learn but I cannot help thinking on how they could have been avoided. I guess that is just my mind. Never satisfied.


Many times, I wish I had not kept so many secrets from my parents. I wish I could have let them know it all but I know I will be judged, possibly even worse.


Many of the times, I dwell in the nostakgaix of my childhood and wish I were trapped in that state forever

Many of the times, I am glad I am growing up to be more independent and free because I can edit my own path and see where it goes. I am happy for the freedom I get and for the chances I can take. I am also happy because of the progress in growing up because I get to be further away from all the fights I have to witness.


Some times, I wish I never left my home

Many times, I am glad I did but then I weep at stages


Many times, I wish people could see me through my eyes and not theirs

Some times, I am glad that is not the case because through different eyes, different and unique perspectives come out and you learn a lot more that way. You know they like you or do not like for who you are from their eyes and not from the monstrous eyes you have. It makes things slightly better in many ways.


Many times, I wish I could be happy with the way I am

Some times, I am very ecstatic and proud and then the other times I am not and I wish I could change every single detail about myself.


Many times, I wish I could show people the changes I wish they could bring upon themselves

Some times, I ponder on why they can’t see what they do.


Many times, I wish life had not handed me the atrocious parts in a sliver platter

Some times, I understand why life handed me them. To make me grow or I deserved it?


There are going to be plenty of these some and many times in my life and I know I can do something about it or nothing at all.

I will try and achieve as many of these some and many times in my life but also what I like to do instead is to fantasise and think of the possibilities rather than end my misery because there is something in this misery that keeps my mind alive and ticking.

The Joker’s Naughty Sister

Brought to you by my Nightmares

I have written down every detail I could remember from this one. This nightmare stuck to me the most and also from many of the frightening nightmares, I remember this very vividly.

I made sure I remembered all the details by going over them again and again while trying to sleep because I wanted to write this down. I have been thinking about writing my dreams for a while and this helps.

Sometimes, I think by fixating over these details over and over, the nightmare would come back but it never has. Instead a new one comes every night.

I have put names of the people who were in my dreams by their starting and ending letter of the name in “quotes”.

It starts now…

The dream starts by I boarding the metro to a destination. When I stepped out, it seemed like I was in China Town. I figured so because of the atmosphere, the buildings, the unknown language and the markets. The strange thing was rather than expecting to find what one finds in China Town, I found that it was markets of Harry Potter instead.

The town was abandoned. I was alone. It seemed like some thing out of an apocaplyse but with everything still managing to look fresh.

Each store was a theme related to Harry Potter and this one particular store caught my eye. I guess it was a cafe and outside the entrance were the statues of Harry, Hermione and Ron pointing their wands casting a spell at the store. It was an interesting sight for the eyes.

An unknown sense of cold filled the town and I knew I needed to get out. I felt this dread within. I tried searching for a way to get out. I walked back and forth and around to find a way out.

I don’t what happened next in the dream but now I was at the metro. This metro had connections to the entire world and could take me anywhere. I saw the metro rush behind the glassed doors carrying passengers or something else. I am not sure anymore.

I went down to the platform to ask someone for help and I got helped. I needed to get to Burjuman, a mall in Bur Dubai. I did not know what for, all I knew was that I was headed there.

I stood on the shaking compartment and proceeded to look out at the views outside. It was different but appealing. I saw buildings achieve various architectural feats. Among the many buildings, I saw this one building have the most beautiful stained glass allowing various colours to be seep into the glass building. Those stained glasses had pictures that told stories. Sadly, I did not know what they told.

Now, I was at the airport with my mom and we were in a lounge. This lounge seemed like it was meant for people travelling in an elite class. The lounge was spacious and it had red floors and golden curtains hang. The place gleamed.

There were many tables and six chairs surrounded each one. It was the most fanciest and sophistcated place I have ever been in.

I don’t think I was in the right attire for this atmosphere.

Myself and my mom walked down this big lounge and we find our old neighbours seated at the table right in the middle. It was the mother “M.Y” and her daughter “M.A.L”. It looked like we all were having a jolly time, with choclate mouse on the table for all of us to dig in.

Out of nowhere, this Malayali actor Suresh Gopi comes and decides to sit with us. He sits next to me.

There were 6 chairs at the time, two taken by mom and myself, two taken by the other mother and daughter and one taken by the actor. The other chair was not taken. For some reason I do not rememeber the sixth chair being there but I knew it was. My gut says so.

Suddenly, I find the actor and myself sitting on my chair. I was sitting on a very tiny space of the chair and I was half hanging out but somehow I managed to sit just fine and then numbers of the chair reduced from 6 to 5. I frankly don’t understand the logic of this.

There were 5 occupied chairs but how was the actor still in my chair if the fifth chair were occupied?

The space seemed much smaller and more intimate. I started to panic and with my heart racing out of my chest, I rushed from there.

I did not know where my legs took me but now I was in a small movie theatre hardly with 30-50 seats in it. I saw four of my old high school friends, now who I no longer keep in touch with.

“T.L and J.E” stood on the right side of the theatre while “M.A and A.I” stood on the left. They had concerned looks on their face while watching me break into this paranoia.

I broke down on the stairs. I knelt down and remained there saying to them that I was convinced that I was in some sort of experiment, being controlled, being watched. I was convinced the whole world was in on this. It felt as if I was in a psycholigcal thriller. I was missing the bigger picture, the bigger lie.

Those four people stook there trying to tell something, something in the lines of “what you are thinking is not true, it is nothing of that sorts.”

I was on the main stage now, in front of the big screen, down on the floor. As I rushed towards the door, I found the joker stand. This joker looked different. This joker took the form of Milley Cyrus, a rather frightening version of her. Her hair all tangled in knots, pale white skin, colours of green and purple bled on her face and in her hair. She looked into my eyes viciously with meaning.

In seconds, I found myself spring upright, mere inches away from her face and then I saw what terrified me the most. Her eyes sewn shut. I could see the black thread stitched in and out of her eyes. Her eyes opened.

I was now a few feet apart from her and the Joker. This Joker was now the Joker I was used to seeing in movies. The Joker played by Heath Ledger and then beside him stood that being.

I do not know if you know this, but there is this black board above some of the movie halls that show the movie they are about to play or the ongoing movie in that hall. That board appeared above the movie screen and showed the title “The Joker’s Naughty Sister.”

I was watching all of this behind my computer screen, watching the other me. It felt like I was watching a movie but it was not. I knew that being beside the Joker was me. This connection was personal and intimate. I felt it.

Then I screamed

Dream Over

I screamed for my mom. I called her name out loud. It was as if a demon was being exorcised right out of my body. My mom came by my side and comforted me like always.

She was used to these nightmares of mine. I have them almost every single day and in every single day, I cry out for her name. Most of the nightmares, I do not remember what happened but this one, I did. I do not know why.

Every nightmare, I scream for my mom and in some of them, I wake up in terror. I do not know why I get these. I wish I knew.

I tried going back to sleep but the moment I shut my eyes, I saw the stitched eyes looking back at me. Every time I wanted to close my eyes, instead of seeing darkness, I saw those eyes.

So I opened my eyes out of fear every once a while to get that image out of my head and then I slept.

The Take Out

I sit out on a bench looking at the street looking at the various buildings that exisit to serve some purpose

I sit here outside this cafe waiting for my pizza and cheese fries on the go. To pass some time, I listen to my playlist “My Indie Vibes” . Each song somehow suiting the mood I am in 

The sun is at its best now, I guess. 

It shines not very brightly but bright enough to give off a warm glaze off it when looking at it. The time to be a beautiful evening sun. The evening sun you see in movies, everyone coming back from work and watching the city bustle. 

Then I hear a shout of my name to which I get a heart attack. It was my dad coming from work tired and happy listening to country songs. He gets very excited about these songs 

Before him interrupting my thoughts, I guess I wanted to write something. Yes, I remember what it is.

I had quite the day today. Shopped out of my budget. I do not like shopping for clothes for myself. This does not mean I do not, I just find it tiring and well if I like something, I try it on and will buy if I have the money. That’s what I did. I was very testy and pissed having spend off my money.

Then my mom told me why save up and save up if you are not going to spend on something that makes you happy. This advice calmed me down and I saw the happy side to it. I got some cool shirts to wear. 

After all, this saved up money was not going to be of any use in hell, perhaps as a bribe to get into heaven. 

Then while going back home, I saw this old man on a wheelchair selling packets of tissues. It hurt me physically causing me to whimper. I can’t stand watching people in despair and beg. 

So I went up-to him and bought two packets of tissues, a dollar for each packet. He handed me three to which I declined first but he insisted with a happy smile to which I smiled back and then took. 

I can’t forget that smile and never will. I guess that smile came from happiness that finally someone noticed him and gave him money for the first time or he was joyous that he was closer to affording a meal. 

I got to thinking what different people do to survive. It aches me. I told my mom that whenever my mom and dad come here, when they see that man, they should always give him some money. I can’t wait to grow up, get a job and do my bit for them, for people who need the help. It makes you think and know you got it quite good. 

Later as my mom and I were walking home, we saw a small cute child carrying a trolley bag holding his father’s hand who was leading him along. The boy looked unwilling and looked as if he wanted to go out and play rather than do whatever they were going to do. 

This got my mom reminiscing about my past, my school life, particularly my year 10. The most stressful and worst year of my life in school. 

There was this insane pressure to achieve and I knew I couldn’t. I just didn’t understand Maths and Science. It was not for me and I tried so hard and I achieved the grade I wanted and I was happy. I got the grade I deserved. 

My mom told me she was so afraid of me not passing Maths and I told her it was hard. I had to memorize formulas and sums to get that grade. 

I despised every bit of my 10th grade, the tuitions, the pressure and the stress to get that grade because society and outside family would judge me if I don’t get it. It was awful succumbing to these pressures. 

Then some or the other conversation happened with her to spark this one I am going to write about.

I told her about how some teachers were not good to me. They undermined me, thought I wouldn’t make it and she was so shocked and upset because I did not tell her this back then. I knew she would wreck their worlds if I told her, so I kept quiet back then and just went with it. 

I told her that when in year 12, when I became a prefect and one time when I was passing her, she said “oh you got it?” in a very sarcastic tone. 

I was hurt but I forgot about it. Clearly I haven’t done a good memory forgetting it if I still remember it now. 

This is why year 11 and 12 were the best years of my high school. I was doing subjects that I loved. I got a chance to prove myself and start anew. I found myself and found great friends in a great class. I thrived. I got so many opportunities that I would never get back then. 

Back to the present moment, The takeout. Some time passed and I got the meal, my dad paid and we were walking back home. My dad listening to his music in the evening sun and I beside him dwelling in this sad spiral. 

I wanted to have some sort of talk and comfort with him but he was dwelling in his music and I didn’t want to ruin that. In that moment I knew this is how my parents felt when I am engrossed in laptop and phone all day. That feeling hurt and I am sorry that you have to go through with it mom and dad. 

This sad spiral I was in was due to earlier incidents.

This is exactly why I choose not to talk about the past because many of it brings me pain. My technique works just fine, forget about those bad times, suppress it down/forget it and move on. Talking about it now just made me more upset. If I talked to someone back then, it would probably be better and not hurt so much like as of now but at the end it’s always going to hurt the same. 

This is exactly why I choose not to talk about many things from my past or from my present  because they always tend to leave me in this sad wallowing misery. 

Now I have to smile and pretend to be in this happy state in front of my mom and dad because I don’t want them to be sad and up in my space. I wouldn’t have been sad if not for talking about the past. 

This is exactly why I like my technique. It doesn’t hurt anyone, probably me but I have been dealing with that tiny hurt for a long time, so long now it’s just normal. I am okay after a while. 

Now I feel much better writing it down and presenting it out in the open. 

What an irony? I say I don’t want to talk about it yet I write about it and show it to the world. Huh.