A Lost Soul Turns Stronger!

I heard the news, shocked.

I thought about that, doleful.

I thought more, sorrowful.

I tapped myself, bewildered.

I sat there, blurred.

I closed my eyes, darker.

I shut myself, failing.

I repeated, lingering.

I turned, wishing.

I felt myself, sickening

I rivaled the voice, fragile.

I wanted to jump, senseless.

I tried and pushed, stuffier.

I cried a bit, excruciating.

I went on, devastated.

I paused, gallant-er.

I dried the eyes, determined.

I drained the voice, better.

I opened the eyes, lighter.

I stood up, brighter and aliver.

I promised myself, stronger.

photo credits: prakashghai.blogspot.com

A Loser under the Rain Rose Again—and Better!

The sun was high in the sky after it felt silently in itself that the light it had brimmed out, till the current phase of the day, suffice to dry the wet, probably watered and muddy, land—streets— which were soaked by the last night rain that poured outrageously and almost non-stoppedly. Luckily, for some, as they might have reasoned to themselves, there were sunlight, for this Sunday, to dry out—or, dehydrate—their washed and draped cloth. This self-imposed reason propelled them to get up from their bed, leaving behind the laziness inside their body that weaken their mind, to collect their cloth which had been worn, and stained with sweat and smells, throughout their weekdays and bring them, for another week, to laundry—a task which some eased with a clothing-washing machine and which some others had to complete using their mere hands and wooden-covered brush—and with, specifically for some others, thin plastic gloves.

The reason, despite its logicality, didn’t make it ways into Visoth’s head whose body and mind were still peacefully resting, in his messy bedroom, on his dust-filled bed where, atop, a few Sandra Brown’s novels—The Crush, Smoke Screen, Fat Tuesday—were flaunting tirelessly for a gentle clutch and an ardent read. Above-naked as the reeking striped blanket had been rolled away to a corner of the bed, Visoth, who was as frivolous as other aimless grown-ups, was still harboring a cute peaceful slumber till this sun-high-on-the-sky time on a Sunday—a kind of slumber which most teenager-turn-adults, like Visoth, would enjoyed and be proud of.

Life As I'm Facing And Hearing It

Taylor "not-so" Swift: I don't know about you but I'm feeling twenty-two and everything will be alright. 

Me: I don't know about you either and I'm twenty-more-than-that but everything aren't alright. Prettily, life is f-up manily here and everything is at its own best in boisterous mess.

John Wade, a famed film producer, said: Life is hard. It is even harder if you're stupid. 

Acclaimed author Jodi Picoult: Hold on strong and endure hard; life is one hard difficult test; you'll pass the test if you keep on clinging. 

Legendary Mark Twain: If all my words don’t seem to motivate you, 21-century adult, maybe you should try “marriage”, which would, for one brave turn, end all these hard-time adulty mess-up. Plus, your parents are doubting too!

My crush―if any: I’m sorry to hear about this hard time. I agree with Uncle Mark Twain. That's right; it's me right there and here for the whole time. I think about you, secretly, days and nights, which, when the factual reality hits me gently in face, crushes my heart crucifyingly―you never know how brutally retaliating that is. Sometimes, you know, I noon-fantasize that you and I are holding hand, walking together, fighting despite all the hardships cursed upon us two. You know, my love―I’m sorry if you’re mad at me addressing you so―we could do this, right? Give us a chance? I don’t want to move on, me-ly, with you as a good learning lesson. I'm just wishing the love which, by any miraculous chances, you may share could take my breath away just as when I was fantasizing about you and I being intimately in love. You know, for the current time, I’ll always be there for you, and, dearingly, I’m insanely in crush on you.  

What I've Learnt From My Life During Un-employment Period

I left school back in almost late 2012, prior and during which I had been lucky to pick up quite a number of amateur working experiences through internship, freelanceship, part-time and volunteer works. Before I was finally able to land in for a job I had to live several couples of dreary weeks without jobs but seeking for one; that was almost burning all the academic parts of my body. Life! You have no ideas or might have some but, well, life during those weeks sucked.

I, however, got a job after some moments searching. I was committed to the job, which I loved and felt passionate for. As times grew forward, I was conditioned to selflessly convince myself to leave and I happily turned in the letter. 

Home sweet home for the second time!

On a conclusive manner, the period of “home sweet home” are freedom-spraying and, along time, somewhat depressing.

The good point, above all, though, is the struggle to fight and move on. With reflections, I gotta say I learned and observed something during those dark and absurd moments of being too free. The following decipher those knowledge and I'd like to humbly share with all of you. 

So Tell Me

There, are things growing in shape?

God, I miss a lot those dates. 

After all the time we're separate.

I'm fine with a complicated mind.

While you're there and I'm just behind.

And the sun doesn't seem to shine.

I try to run and reach to you.

I tried but feel like a fisher at a zoo.

I guess I must find some clues.

Now, tell me what I should do.

Should I stay, go or what?

If I stay, will you be bored?

If I go, will there be comfort?

By any chances, am I worth?

My mind finds mess and thoughts go short.

How long will I have to bear?

Leaving, I heard but don't yet dare.

These complications, I doubt, will float to where?

Apparently, to me, this seems like a nightmare.

I just hope we can forever still live, love, etc. in pair.

No matter what things turn out, I know you care.

So tell me!