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What should I feel now? What do I feel now? I am not able to feel. The brain is mixing a salad with all the feelings that have been defined and not-defined, without my consent. Eat it, enjoy, the brain invites me to sit at the table and have a bite. But all I want to do is to flip the table. This salad is beyond my digestive system.

There is joy, which should be picked out in the gloomy month of loss, grief, regret.

There is fear, which should be excluded in a long road ahead if I want to keep going.

There is doubt, which is an eraser to the class of learning to trust.

There is confusion about how come I'm here today, about why it has to be done like this?

There is much more, my words can't express it all. I can't even step back to observe myself.

I close my eyes. There is the clutching heart. The blocked nose.

Then, the mind flies to the stone-paved circle on top of a hill. Where all expired flesh were sliced, bones were chopped, to be taken to the higher realms by the black cloud of vultures. Anything left? Really nothing left?

Comments

Can't Hold Back

My Tears. I gotta cry, now. How many times? How many times have I told you to not cry when you thought of him? Look what you've done today! I warned you to hold back the urge to drop that broken pearl necklace from your eyes. Look what you're doing now! Crying your fucking heart out the same as that day in the city where you two met? You're not even in that town now! 10000km away from where you met. 188438400 seconds have passed since that day! Allow me cry for ten minutes please, then, I can continue to numb my mind by the endless trivialities. Physical pain is the cure to that invisible yet so much more painful chat in my mind.

Blue vs Red

Two officially compatible colors are running at your town. Who will win? The blue me or red you? The answer is easy—the one who loves more will win. We love each other equally. The universe saw it. But what I'm loving? There's nothing there now, not a single word. The fact you enjoy being a stranger to me us is a hard fact I've learned to accept.

Aroma

At night, the aroma of Mama's food still lingered the air in the house, as if mom just cooked us a delicious meal as those countless old days. I waited for mom's call from the kitchen to ask us to eat, but no sound. I kept the light on as usual, I wrapped myself in the cotton blanket, I closed my eyes. "Mama", I whispered. I was long for mung bean pastry, a snack I loved since the first time I ate. So I decided to make it from scratch. One important ingredient is the lard. I noticed a bowl of fatty meat in the freezer for a while. So I took it out, defrost it. When it was boiling in the water, a lot of garlic gloves and dried shrimps were separated into the water. The images of mom peeling garlic and adding spices to the meat flashed in my mind, I held the spatula to stir the meat, so that my tears wouldn't drop. Then a familiar aroma of Mama's food drifted in the kitchen. I thought of the days mom cooking in the kitchen, I breathed deeply, I felt safe in th...

Forgettable

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