Tag Archives: daily post


I like the way flames dance, elegant yet disorganized.

Careful yet careless.

On looking closer, you can distinguish the way the bright colour of yellow, orange and a tinge of blue at the wick come together yet remain independent of one another like a scattered family resembles.

They allow shadows to dance on the walls as the ombre light fills the room.

They give and forget.

You see flames, at first are considerate and then destructive. If you observe them long enough or choose to burn anything of once-upon-a-time sentimental value you will find this to be true. They lick at the crisp edges of papers meant to be forgotten and consuming it all, slowly and then completely as if they were allowing you time to reconsider your soon-to-be permanent decision facilitating destruction.

The paper catches fire and burns all too quickly, becoming so hot that one must immediately set it down for its inevitable end. You can only watch as the paper twists and curls under their maniacal influence just as people do with evil spirits residing within them.

Then once their task at hand is done, they flicker and fall prey to a gust of wind with smoke curling into the air, serving as a transient reminder of what once was burning so brightly.

After all, there is light…

and then nothing but darkness to follow.




I’m an investor.

I invest my emotions in the plots of novels, films and especially with characters I take a liking to.

I invest my talent when I have a single black pen in my hand, be it for writing or drawing of some sort.

I invest my curiosity and academic interest in non-fiction. Whether or not it is a part of my syllabus is irrelevant.

I invest my thoughts in the art of midnight pondering on life and art and how the line between the two can be so fine.

I invest time and energy in everything I do.

I invest my self.


Binge-Watching is better than Stinge-Watching


I’ve always found it easier to go to the extremes of the spectrum instead of sitting square in the middle of it. I listen to the same song on repeat until I get sick of it and the same goes for food and there are a few regrets there but one thing I do not regret is binge-watching. Call it being immature or being unable to exercise self control but I binge-watch TV shows A LOT.

Being a college student wrapped up with deadlines and assignments at the end of the semester, there isn’t much time to get your head around a really good TV series. When you’ve got time off before your finals, however, binge-watching is back with a bang, filling days that you should be studying with much more entertainment than they should be.

I just finished binge-watching Breaking Bad for the third time and god knows how many times I’ve done the same with Friends. When things get too intense in the drama, comedy acts as a nice little reprieve so at least there is some sort of balance in my binge-viewing.

When I first started watching Breaking Bad it was on an overnight bus ride where I couldn’t sleep. I’d been postponing watching the show for a while and then I thought what the hell and pressed play. That was it. I was hooked from the word go. Suddenly when my laptop battery died I was left on the edge of suspense and what would ultimately lead to a full-fledged addiction to the show. I remember finishing the entire second season in a day.

Some  people think binge-watching is unhealthy because it disrupts your sleep cycle  resulting from the inability to stop watching multiple episodes continuously and it could also potentially lead to obsessions with TV series.

To this I argue that when you focus on one show in particular you can really invest in the plot and the whole world behind it instead of just skimming the surface. It really sticks with you and it can be intense, depending on the show of course.(Plus, I don’t sleep early anyway so I might as well do something with that time, right? )

Infographic: Binge Watching TV

However, my only issue with binge-watching is that you don’t get to watch a TV show evolve over time like I did with Dexter.

What are your thoughts?



Parking Lots

I waited round by the parking lot, leaning against a Range Rover parked on the lowest level. The lights overhead flickered and danced, reminding me of horror films. Thrusting my hand in my coat pocket, I pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

Always good for the nerves.

The breeze picked up and the lit flame swayed. Balancing the stick between my lips, I inadvertently thought of all the ‘smoking kills’ adverts. The ones displaying gruesome spew accumulating in lungs of chain smokers.

To hell with them.

I lit it up and took a slow drag, exhaling poisoned air.

“Thought you quit.” A voice reverberated in the empty space, hollow sounding. It was the kind of voice that would do well in those pesky adverts. The kind of voice you’d choose for your conscience because even though it sometimes said the exact things you didn’t want to hear, it at least sounded good. That was Harry’s voice.

“I say that every week.”

“Yeah, you do.” He sighed, standing next to me.

We stood like that for a few minutes, the sound of his shoes scraping in horizontal lines disrupting the silence.

“Everything is fucked.” I muttered.

“What happened?”

“You’re not here anymore.” I stubbed out the cigarette, crushing it under foot. “You don’t nag me about my smoking or any of my other habits… I lost my oldest friend. So I guess, with each cigarette, I’m closer to seeing you. Closer to resuming those talks at 5 am about which shit kicker band we ought to go see next down at the bar because all of them were pretty terrible but the drinks made them sound okay…wow, we used to drink quite a lot. I never thought about it. How many times did we stumble back to our places drunk?”

There was no response. Then I remember he had too many whiskies one night. That was all it took.

The moment of insanity had passed.

I really wished it hadn’t.


The Brutal Honesty Checklist

  1. Ensure you are prepared for this supposed ‘brutal honesty’ you seek because most people say they’d rather someone told them something to their face instead of behind their back but when it actually happens they have no idea what to do. Remember, sticks and stones may break your bones but names will certainly hurt you if you let them.
  2. Make sure the person from whom you expect honesty from is someone whose judgement is sound as opposed to askew. You wouldn’t demand a doctor to critique your essay on communism. At the end of the day, not everyone knows enough to be honest with you and it’s just absurd how we take the wrong people’s critique.
  3. It’s either brutal or honest never both. As Richard J. Needham said, “People who are brutally honest get more satisfaction out of the brutality  than out of the honesty.” People are just waiting to tear you apart. Does that qualify as brutal honesty? No, it does not. Don’t listen to it.

So after you’ve thought about it all, makes more sense to seek constructive criticism instead, doesn’t it?


Do you know what Feminism is?

If I were to ask a single question and determine whether or not someone could be my friend based on the answer, it really is quite simple…

Do you understand what feminism means?

Sadly the word is a very misunderstood one but as Emma Watson rightly said in her UN speech for the HeforShe Campaign, it is not the word that matters but rather the idea behind it. So the better question to be asked is actually…

Do you understand what feminism is?

I sincerely hope you do because whether you are a man or woman, boy or girl, feminism should matter to you because…

Feminism is not synonymous to man-hating or believing in superiority over men but rather gender equality. It means affording equal rights to both men and women. It’s justice.

Perhaps you’re a feminist and you don’t even know it. 

Maybe we could be friends but we don’t know it.

Isn’t that a shame?


Gold-plated Leaves

Autumn is the season of colourful foliage and chilly weather but I think most of all it is nature’s greatest metaphor. Though leaves shall soon die and be crushed under foot, they nonetheless hold on to their array of shades and hues, until they can no longer just as we should in our most trying times.


Like autumn leaves, my thoughts

are stripped of their connect

to centrality, as a branch rots

without foliage, my mind suffers 

the same disconcertion, clots

with terrible, terrible loss.

These thoughts are left to fend,

feed and suffocate like gold-plated

leaves left to die, trying to mend

in a pile of crumbled dust. The gold

withers and then comes the end,

with it there is finality. No more, no less.


Verbosity Pulls

I’m verbose, never brief.

Economy of words is difficult especially in writing. How and which words do you choose to express your thoughts? If you say it in three, will it be the same as saying it in three hundred? I don’t think so and it really depends.

No matter how much I restrain myself, one thing I cannot do is follow a word limit. As a kid, I thought that it wasn’t too much of an issue, but now that I have exam papers with huge 15 mark questions and not much time to write them in, word limits are useful yet on my part, neglected.

I can only imagine word limits would be very upset with me and if they could see a shrink I’d bet they’d have a lot to say…

Psychiatrist: How do you feel today?

Word limit: Well, I feel absolutely ignored and disrespected. I mean how would you feel if you laid down the law and someone just went ahead and broke it anyway? If it’s 1200 words then it’s 1200 words. Not 1348, 1567 or even 1201. It is 1200. But no, she never cares. She just goes on and on and on…

Psychiatrist: Wow, for a word limit, you sure do jabber.

Word limit: Do you see? That’s what she’s done to me!

Sorry word limit. I’ll try to keep it brief next time.


A Five Day Sleep Journal

I decided to do my own sleep journal entry for this prompt and take a closer look at my sleeping pattern and habits. After reading the article on sleep procrastination, I wanted to see why I procrastinate on my sleep (although once I fall asleep, I sleep for a good 12 hours if left alone, so it’s not as if I’m sleep deprived).

Day 1: 23rd June, 2014

What time I wanted to sleep: 12 am

What time I slept: 2 am

Reason for the difference: Uni work, watching TV, listening to music and blogging

Day 2: 24th June, 2014

What time I wanted to sleep: 12 am

What time I slept: 10 pm

Reason for the difference: NIL

Day 3: 25th June, 2014

What time I wanted to sleep: 12 am

What time I slept: 3:30 am

Reason for the difference: Reading, watching FIFA (time zones suck)

Day 4: 26th June, 2014

What time I wanted to sleep: 12 am

What time I slept: 1 am

Reason for the difference: Watching TV, on my laptop

Day 5: 27th June, 2014

What time I wanted to sleep: 12 am

What time I slept: 12:30 am

Reason for the difference: Watching TV, on my laptop

Based on my five day sample, I can see that the reasons I stay up later than I intend are in my control and demonstrates my lack of self-regulation.

I also tend to fall asleep with the TV on, which may or may not be a bad habit according to an article I read in Readers Digest. For those who can’t ‘turn their brain off’ having the TV on passively in the background can relax people like me and help them sleep so in my case it’s not distracting me from sleeping altogether.

I think the reason I stay up late us because, as an introvert, I need just as much time for myself as how much I spend with others.

I suppose I have to work on going to bed at the right time by modifying my behaviour. Hopefully I can.

If not, I’m perfectly fine being a sleep procrastinator. I don’t find it all too terrible a thing to be.



A Modest Celebrity

If I were to be a celebrity for a day, I would like to be a modest one.

I want to…

Use my money to support my mom, buy her a car, pay off her mortgage because it’s the least I could do.

Play football with some friends (I’m hoping this celebrity is slightly better at the game than I am, though I am pretty good defense).

Always be happy and appreciative, making life look simple even though it’s not.

Play guitar in my spare time.

Do my part for charity and make a difference whether it’s meeting sick children or organising a massive event to raise money for a cause I believe in, maybe autism.

Know what it feels like to give people hope.

Smile so much my face hurts and laugh so much I can’t breathe.

In short, I would like to be Niall Horan.

But only for a day.

happy niall