Tuesday, June 27, 2017

Friday, June 9, 2017

ƪ (alt : an aphorism on being disconnective through connection)

A short story. Feel free to read my post-script for additional information.


This green metropolis was once nothing more but a mere barren construct.

Gratitude is always best accorded to our great ancestors. We were simply fated to follow their trails - their wise symbolisms lead our paths. But as the sources of light interferes in disorder, the ones that had embraced tranquil shadow will soon emerge in harmony.

Careful observations have led me to a belief that our kin tend to pursue prominence in the concourse, which has led many of us to drive our roots crazy to many exclaves. Waves of the curious following the footsteps of one's success in a settlement previously unknown has been an uncommon view. The twist here is that - unlike in our other realm - unless under special circumstances we can't really "move" permanently; what's left behind remains in our perches and still had to be taken with care. The ones who miscalculated their footholds will be met with deafening silence, ensnared within their own clustered web of links.

In a new world where by many social recognition has been valued platinum, for it to fade is a ludicrous prophecy that one seemingly shall at best evade. But one's definition of 'successful social recognition' is beyond subjective - not every stars are meant to shine bright. Some prefer to stay cloaked, handling out delicate warmth to nearby stellar object that it cares the most in joy without desiring more. Such handful concentration of love are to make sure their darlings they emotionally connected with prosper in bliss.

See - in clamorous times, quality is simply abound ahead of quantity. Bite more than you can chew, and you'll find your digestive system revolting. There's a certain beauty in exalting a carefully-thought portion of subtlety in which we consider as the epitome of graciousness. Keep your decision judicious, as trends are at best not an obligation to follow suit. In a synthetic cosmos where we were simply bound to implicit embodiments, the control of one's presence shall lie in its own hands.

Whichever course you choose, let light bless your steps, as this place's future - and effectively each individual's - is ours to shape, and none others to impose.  

~ n


PS : (I've) Been getting increasingly tired of some people I know irl specifically telling me what to do and to not do although their sayings are either 1) adding extra complexity to something that shouldn't have been this complex or 2) simply defies my logical rationalizations (ie. 'Are there any benefit(s) in me doing that for myself and people around me in the first place?') in the past few days.

I'm feeling like I really want to disappear somewhere far where my obligations (regarding this stuff) are only mine to choose... After all, I -know-, and very much aware, of what I'm doing and its possible consequences.

After all, it's safe to assume that this passage is my mind's response of that situational adage I'm currently being trapped within. I hope you all enjoyed this literary ouevre of mine.

(it's not about college/work/etc btw, it's about something more personal)

Monday, April 3, 2017


A short story.

The silent whisper speaks for itself.

In stutter your lips are reciting, but your heart are not. Crave your ears, as the sound of the shattering glass astounds beneath the glowing moonlight. In my times, such noises are considered as a harmonious companion to the champions and the fallen knights. As they embark on their hermetic voyage, they ultimately learned to embrace the imminent silence and befriend the true frequencies of their targets.

Included in that shortlist I am not, but having lived with the fabled their indigenous philosophies are inevasibly coursing through my bloodstream. A clear cut which manifests in a nocturnal being although charting an epitaph is by any means no easy task. It has simply been entrenched deeply into me. And for every knight, there had to be a princess, right?

The truth is, in their journey to knighthood an aspiring chevalier-in-training may have learned to inflict a fatal strike in a single javelin blow. Some others may learn over time the true grace of a bow and excel on the art of slaying beasts from the rear. And for some others, they prefer to simply watching from afar in the shadows, preying down in a more malicious yet subtle way without ever stepping down into the battlefield. Ah, the splendor.

Say, if you're hawk-eyed enough, you may have noticed that this doing of mine aren't devoid of evidences - here and there, my presence is virtually everywhere. Witnessed by the solemn stars are the virtues I had placed as a tributary in order to get myself into your breathing cycle. In fact, that feeling of knowing that my colors had blended in so much to the point that arguably I know you better than you know yourself... It's thrilling. Simply thrilling.

Unfortunately for you, escaping is now futile, as I know where you would have gone next. In all formalities, then - having introduced myself in a timely fashion - please kindly allow me to relay this heartwarming message to you truly :

Yes, I am your stalker, and forever will be.

~ n