Fragments of the Quiet Mind

There are moments when life throws us into chaos. Despite our efforts to maintain a positive outlook, some instances push us to our limits. Suddenly, it feels like we're staring at our own reflection, where darkness engulfs the itsy-bitsy light that we are so desperately trying to ignite. It's disheartening...  In this state of condemnation and self-judgment,  as we struggle to make sense of it all,  we find ourselves consumed by angst and painful realizations.  No matter how hard we try to mend things, there are unforeseen circumstances where destruction triumphs over creation. Perhaps it's due to our limitations,  our inherent inadequacies that we persist in trying to fix what's broken. But more often than not, our attempts only result in shattering it further, leaving us with countless irreparable fragments.  Maybe they're right;  I seem to destroy everything I touch. I can't help but question what is wrong with me. I feel like a forsaken soul, ...

The Cure and koRn, two of the bands that influenced me into music. What I like about the Cure is Robert Smith’s eccentric personality, his brilliant songs and how he ‘loses’ himself whenever he sings. Everytim I listen to his songs, It’s like having a casual walk in a forest and you forget time as you are basking in the serenity and tranquility of the place. Jonathan Davis on the other hand is also one of my personal favorites. Actually he was my favorite in high school. What I like about JD is his way of pouring out his angst in his songs. He lets his heart sing for him and let his emotions do the talking regardless of the profanity in his words. His bluntness is manifested in his songs, most people prefer painting flowers, but he would rather draw his pain and angst. That’s what makes him special. While browsing youtube, I came across this mashup – (well I’ve heard of this song years ago, but never really paid much attention, until now. I really love how they mixed “Make Me Bad – ...

Maybe the cure for anything isn’t grand. Maybe it’s not found in redemption arcs or second chances. Maybe it’s just this— Music. Coffee. Smoke. The holy trinity of the broken who still try to feel. I don’t go a day without them. Music drips through my veins like morphine. It doesn’t ask anything from me—just lets me be. I keep Korn on repeat—yeah, I know, not everyone gets it. Their sound is abrasive to the polished, but to me, it’s a mirror. Every note, a scream I’ve been too tired to let out. They’ve kept me alive longer than some people have. Angst. That beautiful, shapeless thing. It doesn’t tell you whether you’re okay or not. It just sits with you in the in-between. You’re not sad. You’re not fine. You’re a suspended breath. A body between pulses. It’s not even pain, not really. Just the haunting suspicion that you’ve felt too much and nothing all at once. And when that feeling builds—when it claws up my spine and fogs my thoughts—I write. Not for applause. Not for people. J...