Fragments of the Quiet Mind

Thursdays…  I usually call it the mediocre day. It's perhaps the most uninteresting day of the week... (and maybe that’s why throwback Thursday was invented to make this day somewhat memorable). It’s pathetic I guess to incorporate luck with the days in a week, but being trapped in a vicious cycle of repetitions, you dwell on things like this for the sole reason of wanting to be motivated in moving further (even without a goal in sight). Doing something that you dislike and sucking big time with it is pretty disappointing. I mean, I once believed that I am special. I thought I was good, but lately, I can’t even do simple things as how they should be done. I know some people would say, “it’s okay”, “you did great” but deep inside me, I know it’s not. It’s really more of a personal dissatisfaction because I know I could have done better and I know I can do better (or maybe I used to do things far better than how I am doing it right now). A lot of questions once again fill my mind. A...

Sometimes, there are moments that just hit me, like a sudden gust of memories that reminds me of things I’ve tried to forget and perhaps hide in the compartments of my mind. Also, it’s in the stillness— in these calm, unguarded moments— all of it comes back to life. Before I know it, the weight of those memories hits me, pulling me into a space where I’m left standing at a crossroads, with nostalgia on one side and reality on the other, wondering how I ended up here, caught between what was and what could have been. Chasing dreams sometimes feels like balancing on a knife’s edge, and in the rush, I end up hurting those closest to me without even realizing it. I sometimes get so locked onto the goal that the quiet chaos I left behind slips right past me. It often feels like I am wandering through an endless maze, and with each turn, it feels like I’m losing pieces of the world I once thought I had figured out. What once shimmered with hope now feels distorted and distant. Justice and lo...

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, ...

There really are certain songs that has the ability to dig deep  and when it hits you, you become one with the song. It’s like a shovel breaking the surface of buried truths . For one, “Snuff” by Corey Taylor has this feeling that pulls me into a fog, weaving an intricate web of unspoken memories and hidden regrets. It’s like a haunting echo that just won’t fade. As the first line goes:  “Bury all your secrets in my skin,”  I can feel the weight of those unaddressed fragments pressing against my mind. It takes me back to past relationships—those bright sparks that once lit up my world but eventually dimmed into shadows, leaving scars behind. Those sparks that dwindled into darkness, which often makes me wonder where I went wrong. I’ve clung to the idea that love could fill that aching void, only to realize it often resembles a cruel mirage—always just out of reach. And then there’s that line, “Love is just a camouflage for what resembles rage.”   It hits hard. Really...

Is there really a problem? Or am I creating illusions of my problems? My problem – or perhaps, our problem is that we senselessly overthink about matters. We over think and we can’t stop rambling about these things. It’s better if people were like gadgets, just press the power button and we can make everything stop, reboot ourselves and reset buggy programs. We have sharp memories, like a knife that slices up peaceful realities. Sometimes, we act like scalpels that cut up the skin to release festering matter. But most of the times, we are idiots. We cut the flesh just for the sake of cutting it, and to see if we still have the ability to feel. And this is the most punishing moment, when you can no longer see the main reason why we got the knife in the first place. We are like a melodic silent song, one so silent that only us can hear, we move with the imperceptible tune and we sway with the beat. A lovely harmony of natural sounds where our brain willfully harmonizes the notes to craf...