conversation: narratives

“You’re always such a positive person. Your aura is warmth, brilliance and resource. Almost the expense of physical pain and the weight you carry, even in this very moment. Your calm stature. At least, that’s my experience with you. It’s hard to know that all these are happening to you. Do you hate being at… Continue reading conversation: narratives

conversation: chest-stains

“What’s the plan? To starve yourself to death?” ‘I’ve wondered about that. Is that possible? Or is it just an expression? Is it actually possible?’ “Have you eaten?” ‘I know you eventually… But… as a way of contributing to the culmination?’ “Stop it.” ‘Why? Why should I stop?’ “Because we care about you.” ‘We?’ “Me.… Continue reading conversation: chest-stains

nihil: conversation(s)

“Are we are evidence of an existential error?” ‘Pad-chance, man. Zima hio kitu!’ “Well, the switch is probably hidden as a subscript nondescript letterhead on the tailpiece” ‘Is that why you obsess over telomere?’ ” — of experimentation?” ‘I prefer simulation. The mystery code is parsed with the signature of all things…’ “Even a heart… Continue reading nihil: conversation(s)

conversations: hope?

“What is hope, O?” ‘An absurdity. No more than some life is an anomaly. And humans must reinvent themselves to confront and live through the same. I think that hope is the fodder of fate that life fattens before an eventual or unavoidable savoury. Hope is necessary just as much as the discernment and awareness… Continue reading conversations: hope?

Per Ardua Ad Astra

If truth be told:        Life is pain. When you break down, just to pick up odds that you’re set up against. Suffer vain, get struck again.  Bleeding out like a ruptured vein. The rapture of flames, preordained fractured leaves you badly scathed. There’s scars. Then there’s an emptiness deflowered by my chest… Continue reading Per Ardua Ad Astra

Survivor’s Remorse

I didn’t think I deserved love. Imagined myself a burden, the friend who was dealing with so much misfortunes. I had learnt how to tell, that I was hurting, needed a little help. It turns out, I was keeping catalogue of the times I stripped bare and vulnerable; reaching out. They were times, the universe… Continue reading Survivor’s Remorse

Proof of Life:

Sometimes, after confronting what many cancer survivors call: “The Why Question [Phase]”; I used to stretch my imagination to accommodate the idea that a timeline on death makes things very clear. It is what I later named one of my favourite paintings after: Lethal Clarity. It all didn’t sum up to that astronomical stretch all… Continue reading Proof of Life: