Friday, December 30, 2016


The veins you see on my skin are a map. They lead the way to my heart. They're a work of art. Intricate blue patterns just beneath my skin.

Be careful, these veins may be deceiving. They hide a crimson red blood always flowing, keeping me alive. And there are deeper hidden ones. The path to my heart can't be all out in the open, you know. Or else, where's the adventure.

You have to be good at map reading to find your way in.

Friday, October 30, 2015

The quiet after the storm

I’m soft where people expect to find an edge. Like a quiet stream of water when you need a raging, angry ocean. I am but a disappointing breeze that failed to become the storm you were waiting for.
I’m only the spark of a candle but you’re looking for a volcano to erupt and burn everything.

I can be the balm that heals you after a storm. But darling, I can’t be the storm. You don't want to heal, you’re looking for a war. You’re looking for bruises and scars to show that you’ve lived and struggled and survived.

Be careful what you wish for, you’ll get the bruises and some broken bones as well. Life will break you. It breaks us all. You’ll wear your scars like medals on your chest.
You survived. You may limp but you're still breathing. You're still alive. You'll keep pushing the edge. But you'll always know when to stop.

But I can't be the one to start the war, I can only pray for it to end. I can only give the quiet after the storm.

Sunday, August 30, 2015


'We can't always know the whys and wherefores,' the old man said. 'A bird's given two wings, not four, because it can fly with two; so a man's not given to know everything, but only a half or a quarter. As much as he needs to know in order to live, so much he knows.'
Anton Chekhov

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

A cloud

I try to imagine what it’d be like as a lonely cloud in the sky. No prospect of rain and no other clouds in sight to join. Moving where the wind blows… Its own solace is the thought of people trying to make shapes out of it. A turtle. A fish.

The cloud doesn’t know of those that eye it with envy. Wishing they were floating with no gravity, always cool despite the raging sun. Sometimes I wish I was a cloud even if I was lonely. It’s funny all the things you want to be, just because you’d get to be something other than yourself for a change.

I wonder, do all clouds end in rain? And what happens to those that don’t? But most importantly, I wonder what it would feel like to touch a cloud.

Note: Wishlist new item: [ ] Touch a cloud

Sunday, September 7, 2014

An inanimate object

I want to be a letter. Give someone the excitement of new words meant for their eyes only. Then I won't mind being forgotten in a book or a box to be found later by incident.
And maybe, you'll read me again. Remember the feelings I invoked the first time you received me.
Or maybe, you'll put me back. Not quite ready to read me again. Or not wanting your first fond impression to change. You don't want the words to lose their charm.
Maybe you'll lose me. Maybe keep me forever. I'll surrender my fate to you willingly knowing I have no choice in the matter. 

I'm tired of carrying words inside of me that I don't know how to convey. I'm tired of carrying things I'm constantly fighting to figure out. I'm tired of disappointing myself again.

A letter. Charming. Personal. Only one set of expectations to meet in a its lifetime.
It's not so simple thought, is it?

Tuesday, September 2, 2014


One of the many failed bookmarks I once attempted. I didn't make them because I felt creative or wanted to be crafty. I did it because I loved bookmarks and you just can't have enough. It was also because I wanted to gift them to people I loved so they could think of me whenever they used them. The point is you might not be good at something but that's never a reason not to try it or do it no matter how bad you think you are. The world needs people who are good at things true, but it also needs people who do things with passion.

I hope you know where your passion lies and that you can follow it. Mine isn't bookmarks, but I'm sure it's there.

Monday, August 18, 2014


Things I miss about Stockholm:
- Cool clean tap water
- Lakes and water view everywhere
- Easy transport system
- Great ice-cream everywhere you go
- Yummy pastries in the morning (or anytime of the day!)
- Getting lost in the streets and finding cute cozy bookshops
- Swings at random places
- Parks that feel like forests
- A solid beautiful shade of green
- A great transport system that takes you everywhere
- Keeping an umbrella in your bag and actually using it
- How easy it is to find a good reading spot outdoors
- Finding myself getting used to seeing dogs in the streets
- Doing so much during one day 
- Awesome artists playing good music in the streets

Note: the list isn't comprehensive. Perhaps I should elaborate more on my month spent there but I feel like I'm still processing everything that's happened and I'm not sure I know which stories to share and what things to highlight. I'd say it was nothing short of an adventure I shared with really genuine people.

Monday, June 30, 2014

Please believe

When I was a teenager I imagined that by the time I hit my twenties I'd have become the accomplished young woman who knew what she wanted in her life, was out to get it and knew which things mattered in life.
I'm 22 and I cringe at the mere thought of being called a woman. I think I'm still clueless and no way as strong enough as a woman needs to be. So I take the easy way out, and convince myself that "girl" or "woman" are just labels we create for a female so we know what she is as a person. That's just my way of rationalizing an issue that bothers me. Finding a way to make it seem insignificant.

Do you see how we keep saying the same things. Do you hear your own thoughts going around in circles, do you see how your advice is something you wish you could do and how your arguments revolve around a line of thinking you wish to adopt?
Not every time I argue it's in favor of what I believe in. And I realize, we're just trying to convince each other of things we want to believe in, hoping that their faith in something might reach us too.

But if I wait for you to believe in me, or to approve of who I am in order to think myself worthy, I might lose myself completely. If I'm going to wait till you call me a "woman" to see myself as one then I might end up thinking myself a "girl" all my life. I shouldn't be waiting for you.
I'm telling you here because I want to tell myself, it's the only way I can get it to listen to anything.

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

About a girl

This goes out to A. 
Sit there and hear someone say they wish someone else was there with them, what a humbling place to be. Sit there, and know you're not doing anything to make the pain go away. You're there, true. You can walk around acting like you made a difference. But truth of the matter is, it changed you whether you want to admit it or not. Because I know it changed me. This is how I make it about me when in fact it's nothing to do with me at all. 'Sit, stay quiet, listen', I remind myself. I felt if I said anything it'd stop the raw honesty of it all. 

And I couldn't or rather wouldn't compromise that. After the first time, I kept wishing I wouldn't see her because I thought if I saw her then, I’d probably have an urge to hug her and say nothing. Or I was scared I'd stare at her too long and she'll regret having me around. But I’ll probably hold back. I help her pretend I didn't see any of that, but I load my smile with an extra care. I don't know if it shows, I don't know if your smiles change when you want them to but you realize you care about people when you'd do anything to fight their demons away. 

I stayed up till 6 a.m. In the beginning she was lucid enough. She made her usual jokes and witty remarks, to prove that it’s not as bad as it looks, so that she doesn’t look weak in front of us. I think it was more about not allowing herself to show that side in front of anyone, not because of what we might think but because of what she'll end up thinking herself to be. It'll only confirm one of her worst fears. 

Her weakness. What's wrong with you, people suffer much more everyday and you can't even handle a single headache? She makes light of her pain, isn't that what we do? Belittle our suffering so we can face it better, or to help us ignore it completely until it shows up again. 

She grew fidgety, kept turning this side and that, she kept trying not hold on to me but in the end relented. I remember her calling her friend’s name first. And then her mother. The worse part is the helplessness. She knows it, that's why she'd rather not tell anyone until it's over. She's extremely aware of what she's going through and I don't think anyone is more capable of showing up the next day as if the previous night wasn't one of the worst she's ever had. 

I was on the verge of dozing off but I knew I wouldn’t, she managed to sleep for a few minutes until something violently woke her up. In the end, she grew calmer, I don’t know if she had no strength to fight it anymore, or whether she got used to it or she actually felt a little better. I was surprised when she started making sure I was covered well, and I didn’t want her to keep worrying about me so I left. 

This isn't as sentimental as I'd like it to be because I haven't said anything about how much I actually care and how I look at it as something that got us closer, in a way. But I'm glad that for an hour or two, it was me. And that's as far as I can go on about making it about me again. 

PS: You're human and pain is very real. 
 PPS: Don't worry you never said anything that might incriminate you. I don't have any blackmail material sadly.

Saturday, May 24, 2014

To you

There are beautiful things inside of you, waiting to burst of life but all you ever do is try to tame them. But you don’t realize how you have so much life inside of you. Don’t risk becoming like the rest, don’t risk one day feeling like the world’s too big a thing to fight and you’re all alone. Because there’s nobody else to explain to the world the wrong of its ways like you. Believe me, there isn’t.

Often, you’re fighting with yourself over what you should or shouldn’t do. Stop fighting yourself and stop worrying. Do what feels right. Do what even if it failed you’d still stand by it when people say ‘but why did you do it?’ and the little voice in your head stops arguing with you for sometime because the answer resonates within you, ‘it was the right thing to do.’ And people most probably won’t like that answer because they’re worried you didn’t get what you was rightfully yours, they’re trying to console you in a weird way, they’re trying to think would they had the guts to do what you did. And you didn’t have the guts, you just wanted your conscience to give you a break. You just needed your heart to stop being so heavy because of how there are things you keep loading into it. And your heart no longer feels as part of your chest. Your heart has settled into your gut. It needs to go back to your chest but it's so loaded, your whole body feels it. Your hands tremble, your feet are cold and you have bruises of unknown origin.

Teach yourself to be still, to look at the sky, to walk slowly and to not rush anything. Teach yourself to say prayers everyday and yes, focus on others, but focus on yourself too. Remind yourself that you don’t have to control everything, that no matter how much you control things, there will always be something that escapes your grip. Learn to be still. Learn to absorb your surroundings, not to run into your head every time you’re not happy with what’s going on around you. You will need to face the music sooner or later, and what a funny expression that is. Face the music as if music is something difficult to face.

Please stop fighting, I’m tired of having only words to try to make you understand. I need you to pick yourself up for me, fight for yourself and stop fighting it. Fight for yourself, even as you beat yourself up over something because you’re trying to make yourself see that you’re supposed to be better than that, not because you’re angry and all you have is you to snap at.

I’m not telling you you’re worth it, I’m saying there’s a life out there worth living. And the only way you’re gonna figure out how to survive is to stop fighting yourself.
“Be nice to yourself. It’s hard to be happy when someone is being mean to you all the time.” - Christine Arylo
 PS: This post was inspired by this letter by Marwa.