It’s 2.48 am when I check the time on my phone. At this point, I’m not even studying; I’m just staring at the same line on the same page that’s been open for the past twenty minutes. I’m not even sleepy and oddly enough, I don’t have anything on my mind in particular. I get up from my cross-legged position and feel that relieving ache, as I stretch and feel every part of me set back into it’s rightful place . My roommate’s asleep already and I enjoy the peace. Not that I’ve been talking to her much lately. Or talking much at all, for that matter.

Walking over to the fridge, I gingerly step over the small pile of laundry I dropped yesterday afternoon. I still have no intention of picking up. Crouching in front of the fridge, I open it and begin to examine the containers one by one. I come across an egg sandwich. It’s a day or so old. I give it a good sniff, but my hunger overrides my suspicion. Munching it jadedly, I pour myself a glass of orange juice.

Exam season feels endless. The days merge into one another, each seeming longer than the one before it. I’m pushing on with my studies. I’m doing my best, God knows I am. But I can’t seem to attain the same satisfaction I once had. It’s the only time of the year I really feel stuck. This is it; this is what you signed up for. It’ll be worth it in the end, I’m sure.

Walking out in the corridor, I’m hit by the uncomfortable chill of the changing season. I wander up and down aimlessly. Everyone seems to be asleep, which is unusual. There’s always someone up at any given hour, studying, generally. I think about how the wretched cat didn’t try to sneak into our room today, about how the cleaning ladies were making more noise than usual, having chanced upon some juicy gossip. I speculate whether I sounded as dull on the phone to my mother, as I am in fact feeling these days.

Any thoughts of preceding events, I dismiss. I steer my mind away from any deliberations on the future. Lacklustre though my current mindset may be, I prefer it to the thoughts I’m trying to avoid. They’d be too vexing, too bothersome right now. I’d rather a stagnant frame of mind. It’s the only thing that’ll allow me to focus on what matters right now, after all.

I turn left off the end of the corridor, and wander into the bathroom. This is about all the “living in the present” I’ll be doing for a while. The thought amuses me momentarily, and I find myself smiling. A wry smile, mind you. It fades just as quickly, as I catch sight of myself in the mirror. I shake my head at myself, eyeing the circles around my eyes.

I am all too aware of how dreadfully, indubitably bored I am. I know more than a few people who’d frown upon this. I certainly shouldn’t have the time to be bored, should I? Rolling my eyes at the supposed voices in my mind, I traipse back to my room and lock the door behind me. I can’t help but sigh, as I climb into bed. I know sleep will come quickly, as it has done in recent days. Just as well, I think. I’m ready as I’ll ever be to take on a new day.


Eternity in a moment

This might be a little old, but it most definitely deserves to be read. Amazing.

Acquiescing to the whispers of revolt

Taking steps in the direction of pleasure

Working the intricacies of finding right in an error

Justifications ran plenty

But conformation felt empty

A long look in the mirror

Met by a piercing glare of conscience

A raucous flood of divine reason

As if flowing from the gates of heaven

Delivering me at the altar of a guilt so morbid

A sudden avalanche of remorse

My heels digging this earth, my fingers grabbing the walls

An attempt to bring my world to a screeching halt

The mortar of life trudged under my nail beds

The balm of triumph soothing the cracks in my heels

Another episode of uncertainty

Etched in skin, along the hallway of life

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Simply loved this. It describes the feeling perfectly.



It was a tightly shut box; the dusty tape binding its upper flaps stubborn, taut. It was not huge;  as it was to be placed in the hollow of his chest. Its contents, mysterious, unknown,  rattled slightly while being placed; the sound almost blasphemous in the surrounding emptiness.

Not surprisingly, the box was a snug fit; it seemed as if it had been especially crafted to ford the void in his chest.

What did it hold? What was its story?

Once upon a time, it was an iota of ill-will in the depths of his heart; a meager existence, ignored, not worthy of any attention.

Soon it adopted the role of a seemingly unimportant domino that sets off an entire cascade of dominoes tumbling down – slowly, and slowly, it gnawed upon the flesh, feasting on it, living off it.

Something that had been anything but significant did not take…

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Edit: Special thanks to Humdah (who tweets @redvelvetjacket) for providing the inspiration for this post. ^^



Curiosity, more than anything, had driven her there. Her hands had trembled as she had fingered the pattern on the gilded card, seeing her own solitary name written, in his handwriting. Opening it, she’d seen the pre-printed invitation. Her eyes skimmed quickly from “Celebrating 30 years in business” to the date and venue of the event, but her mind was elsewhere. They had given up on meeting frequently several years ago. Life, as it often does, had carried them on very different courses and with the passing of time, their involvement in each others lives diminished.

It was a wonder to her, that she found herself in the lobby of the hotel, gazing at the large mirror. Every iota of her being screamed at her to turn around and leave as soon as humanly possible. The reflection before her was distraught, as it patted down it’s dress and smoothed it’s hair. It looked at her deploringly. She didn’t have to do this. But she was curious.

Continue reading “Closure.”


I can’t begin to describe how much I loved this post. A must read. This writer has a gift.


This post is the product of a friend penning down his feelings for a love, upon my wish to know what love feels like to men. The author’s name remains undisclosed at his discretion.
There isn’t much else to say. How could I possibly put together the right words to do justice to my feelings? I wake up, and fall asleep, and everything I do in between is contaminated with the thoughts of what could have been. Love had always been indefinable for me. And I’m glad it had, because I wouldn’t have experienced it the same had it been defined already. Our time together, although brief, was the most precious and unwrinkled moment of my life. Having had the pleasure of falling asleep with you on my mind and waking up the same, no longer am I able to close my eyes voluntarily with my head…

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