A mess of thoughts, inked through a writer’s block

I have been trying to write. I swear I have tried most possible means. I have stayed up in the silence of the night, waiting for a muse to drift by into sleepy eyes. I have strayed into lonelier dirtpaths, recluse benches, shadowy trees, pitch dark corners, my bed, the floor, upon a table, under…

On sadness and grief

Isolation is a crevice in my head, where my thoughts like to dwell and dawdle when grief seeps. Grief seeps, it doesn’t pour. It does not pour like the rain- heavy and dark, then clear and clean when the sun moves out. It seeps slow, smooth and soft. It fills in like the kind of…

sigh

It's late night, and my household's all fast asleep. I'm sitting nearby the balcony, and thanks to the cool sea breeze, I don't have to risk for a creaking fan to cure the heat and wake unwanted attention alongside. I've just begun savouring the silence, and as if in indirect mockery, a car with a…