Mundanity

Just everyday things

  • Strombolian

    The sensation can also be likened to that of a morsel that is being devoured by a monster. I am but a minuscule and insignificant existence; but I am being flattered by the monster’s physiology that refuses to metabolise me. So I remain stuck within its jaws; enduring perpetual chewing, grinding, bruising, tearing. Read more

  • Game of life

    Around July of this year, my fixation on cozy gaming started. I never thought it would be something I would appreciate and learn life lessons from. But these life sims made me realise that I can simulate games in real life, too. 󠁯•󠁏󠁏 󠁯🌿 •󠁏󠁏 For too long now, Too many things in life felt Read more

  • Stop This Train

    There is a block. Something like a wall. Or perhaps something like a chain? There is a force that is paralysing every bit of me. I can’t make my feet move. I can’t make my brain think. I can’t make my heart care. I am at a mountain gap, and I can’t decide if I Read more

  • They say “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”, “Progress takes time. Progress takes effort.” These days though, I find myself complaining again and again about not having enough time in a day to build the habits and skills that I want to. But who am I going to fight about it? Does the universe have Read more

  • Trip to the Library

    I have finally ventured into our local library and registered! Dan has been telling me to go visit for months now, but I kept on procrastinating. Apologies, but I was rather preoccupied with my crocheting and sewing obsession so reading was not my priority for the longest time (exceptforfanfictions, oh and except for that one Read more

  • [Reflection] Rekindle

    It is interesting. How as children, we thought adults knew everything. It is the farthest thing from reality. We are all just figuring it all out. Read more

  • [Poem] Out of the Woods

    • 🌿 • Lost in the woodsLured in by illusionsInside of a paradiseof tainted constitutions Time was lost and so were chancesCutting corners withIrrevocable grievancesThings I lovedThings that laid dormantThings that made meResurfaced with a vengeance A cycle of reclusion Commencing into oneMost questionable markThat is most compulsive, bar none ___L U Z A N Read more

  • As I was eating a cookie cream bar outside a room, trying to wake myself up, I looked in the mirror. I scanned the room behind me and I thought of my old house- the alternating patterns of little triangles on the stairs, the wooden curtain beneath it, hiding treasures from countries unknown. In my Read more

  • [Poem]

    • 🌿 • She yearns for that which she fearsShe burns for it so deep, so clear She freezes upon its beck and callShe knows enough to fear the fall Lost is the heart that sits and churnswho dreads and waits for its next turn There’s nowhere to come back toAnd nowhere to come back Read more

  • [Poem] Losing Ground

    • 🌿 • the words i have were infinite always present, always living and then they vanished- sudden, fast something devoured the words I had until the glass is full of it so full it looks empty- blank, dark i tried to say something but came up with nothing i was left with nothing but Read more

  • I am a writer because I believe in freedom– the freedom to write stories- mine, yours, and theirs. I am a writer because I have courage–  the courage to reveal my soul and become vulnerable; the courage to reveal my thoughts despite knowing not all will assent; the courage to use my voice to express Read more

  • [Prose] Open Ending

    I fell into the ocean. Once, twice, three times. Once. I welcomed the water. I sunk deeper and deeper until I was compact, pressed from all sides. After a while, I noticed that no matter how deep, there was that light. The light that blindsided me; that which sent me down, down, down. Down the Read more

  • [Rumination] Quarantine

    I wake up, I eat, I watch, I read, I sleep, I eat, I watch, I read, I bathe, I sleep. Finally, I write. WEEK 1 At the beginning of the quarantine, I was almost on the brink of having a panic attack because I was worried about all the bills and expenses I had Read more

  • The beauty of aging lies in the ease in which we accept rejection, because we’ve dealt with much more in the past. The beauty of aging lies in the resilience of our souls to pursue those of which may be less coveted but have deeper value. The beauty of aging lies in the comfort and Read more

  • [Reflection] Be Kind

    Your heart will break many times. You’ll cry yourself to sleep for many nights. You’ll cry in the middle of doing your chores. You’ll break down in the most random times.  You’ll feel wronged, because you gave your all. You’ll feel worthless, because you were left alone. At night, when sleep won’t come, and your Read more

  • [Poem] Polaris

    • 🌿 • I wander the world with a path unfathomed And dilly dallies that stopper my momentum I built my windows wide and tall But shadows sometimes hover and crawl At times I fold, and night becomes long My thoughts welcomed the eternal fall But despite the toss and turns and furls Polaris stays Read more

  • Remember when your dreams were big, but your house was small?  Your body was brimming with energy, but there wasn’t enough room to move. Remember the words, “If only… then I could…”? Your current circumstance is so full of limitations, that you’re so impatient to break free- break free from college, from grades, from your Read more

  •   In the current state of the world, combined with our attachment to social media, not a day will pass by without coming across at least one upsetting piece of news article on the internet. Most times, it makes me want to close my eyes and turn away- forget that I am even a part Read more

  • [Rumination] Gene Pool

    There are people who will watch silently as you fail and make a fool of yourself. Then there are people who choose to be frank to help you save yourself from public disgrace. There are people you’ve known for awhile who will defend you behind your back. Then there are people who will say yes Read more

  • Prose – A Painter

    In the middle of a room, a painter sat on a wooden stool, holding a color palette on his left hand, and a paint brush on his right. In front of him stood a blank canvass, waiting to be filled with hues and images the painter has formed in his creative mind. Behind him, a Read more