some extraction from this supposedly plot-less unpublished book titled 'a life less lived' i wrote ages ago.
I’m too human to be the kind of person that I want to be. If you ask me what I want to be, I’ll probably say I want to be those jelly-fishes floating in the air on sunny days, provided there’s a mighty wind that’ll take me as far as the white fluffy clouds
If life is nothing but a memory, I have only memorized the mistakes I’ve made. So I start to think that with each layer of live lived, I've a new layer of regret to carry forward. I think I’m losing my sense of wonder and innocence with every new layer of year added on me like its necessary. Even if I deny I won’t be the child I was. I could act like one but it’ll only make me look insane.
I feel like I was just born on this very day. The past of my being has been transmitted into layers of recollection in my head. But with the kind of forgetful head that I have, I guess I can very well say that I got no past to define me. So I guess I’m not lying when I say I was born now, at this very moment. And this moment keeps on moving forward with every tick tock. With every second on the clock, my skin withers away, it becomes the un-become and I grow closure to the ultimatum. If I ever knew my time would come, I’ll happily go to this desolated beach that I’ve locked in my head. I’ll go there and look into the ocean. There’s so much freedom in the vastness of an ocean or the cosmic Jacuzzi or the space blanket that I’m sheltered in. But I would feel the chain that ties me up to the world I belong.
Nowadays I complain a lot about the weather. Sometimes its either too hot or its too cold.
Funny how you just forget all those hours of anticipation and wait when the hour actually comes
on menstrual cramp
It still feels like I had a bullet ran into my stomach. I crunch my abdomen hoping for quick relief. But it’s in nature to feel this pain with every drip of fluid flowing out of me. The periodic pain started when I turned twelve. The first time it happened I really didn’t know what was happening with me. My mom never told me that a thing like that happens with our kind of species. I didn’t even realize what was happening to me then. So there I was thinking I was dying but I didn’t. I told no one out of embarrassment, not even my mother. She probably knew it anyway. So here I am clutching my abdomen like I was hit very hard. I was pretending to be one of those tragic characters in the giant black screen. I can be quite mad sometimes.