She was typing on her computer that noon when the sound of roaring thunderstorm disrupted her concentration. She had been working hard for so many painful yet raging hours that even just glancing to the window was none that she could have thought of. She was writing a story about a faux pink leather handbag her grandmother had given her as a birthday present, with a funny note on the inside which says something awful about some homicides happened decades earlier and they got things to do with her grandfather. It was not gruesome at all, it was a depressing story. While writing she could not bear not to cry and furious at the same time. She needed to simplify how she feels, wiping the wasted tears away, and that’s when she looked up on the window, to see the silent drops from the sky, pixilating the glass, blurring the garden. The thunderstorm kept on bellowing. She wiped her tears with the fifth tissue paper.

The Sun Beneath The Clouds

We don’t need to visit places which names we can’t pronounce, we don’t need to book an expensive flight and stay at fancy hotels, we don’t even need to search for pleasure by having a lot of high end gadgets.

Whenever I feel some kind of weary and it happens to be at a bright sunny day, I look up to see the sky which I never intended to. I just look up. And how I see such a graceful sightseeing above that I have to look back and then stare for seconds.

It is the sun beneath the clouds.

How we can always admire the beauty of the flashy sun with half of its feature concealed by the atmospheric clump of cottonish clouds up in the clear blue sky, and the light radiates the whole surroundings.

Imagine a day not too warm, not too chill, but it’s a rather pleasant weather where you may feel like moving your feet around the sidewalk to enjoy the sceneries, flowers blooming and birds chirping. It’s probably not real but hey, believe me, it’s what people want, at least it’s what comes to my mind everytime I picture a kind of ideal place to live in.

And it sets back my overall mood, heart and brain. It’s like having a sip of ginger coffee, only healthier and cheaper. It’s such a pleasure by just viewing the magnificent scene.


There was this old game called Doom, which first version was released on circa 1980’s. When I got my ability to play computer games at around junior high school times, I played the third installment of the popular first-person-shooter genre title and even if it could be classified as boy’s game I still loved it.

And since I was just a rookie back then, I always chose the easiest level called ‘I’m Too Young to Die’ because on more advanced level the monsters, trust me, were too horrifying, they looked and sounded more real and scarier than those latest games (I don’t really look upon the latest games though).

My younger brother, on the other hand, had to choose the hardest level, ‘Nightmare’, which I can recall WAS a nightmare, because the monsters from latter stages were already appearing on the first stage, and they wouldn’t stop firing horrible fires and deadly shots. It’s an impossible level.


WHAT I am writing here is not actually the review of the dead game.

On one of my favorite Medium writers Yann Girard, there is this one passage about the importance of experiences in life, which absolutely determining how they may results in one’s life choices. One who has got less experience and only acknowledge from books will never gain more success than one who has actually had tried — in fact, Mr. Who-Thinks-Theory-is-Everything will likely fail miserably.

Let me show an example here: Harry has never had a date before and he believes that he will be succeed in relationship because he reads a lot about it. He is too shy and unwilling to ask a girl out, or just to know them any better. And we also have Louis, who practically is a guy who has known a lot kind of woman, has done everything and learnt the mistakes and things to do, and understand how complex having a relationship can be.

Then they married the woman they choose. Both of their wifes are apparently a tough type of woman, who, despite their beauty and good manners, are at a glance got no compassion, care, and difficult to handle. The kind of woman that is special, seductive, hard to get, playing games at man just to know whether they are with someone special or someone to put into their blacklist note to.

Harry finds living with this kind of women hard. They never can talk right, they fight a lot, there is no intimacy, not even love, and the miscommunication is unbearable. She doesn’t and can’t love him. The days are filled with uncomfortable silences. He definitely cannot handle her and is feeling like giving up. And she doesn’t care of the relationship at all.

The other guy treats this differently. Because he’s got capability to deal with any kind of woman, included this one, he knows how to turn things upside down and make her love him, make her toss off her ego, and instead of asking or begging her to be a good wife for the relationship, she gives it naturally because she wants to.


THE Nightmare level is not to be played by anyone. It’s meant for those who are skilled, thoughened, knowledgeable. Because this kind of person knows the tricks, the hows, and it requires many branches of options, chances, creativity, out-of-the-box actions, things any books cannot offer, so they can defeat the level triumphantly.

So if you don’t know anything and never even play such a game before, playing the Nightmare level even just for a couple of steps will cost your life. You should either choose the more beginner-wise level or don’t play at all.