A Bit Updates

I need to write something once in a while. I got nothing to think of how a proper post should be written and since I don’t quite write about personal things here then I’d just write anything.

I should write that life has been going very well. Well accommodated, much loved, I even gain weight (it’s not much a good news). I can choose to runt and be ungrateful because many people have begun their life – you know what I mean, which I’m eager to have, too – and I’m here on my own way.

But being ungrateful is far beyond my nature because I always believe that good things are coming up.

I also read more, knit more, maybe even spend my money more (blame that cheap online shops and discounts everywhere) but for some things I gotta choose to be faithful (should I list them? No? Maybe later).

I really got nothing to write.

I’m wearing my new hijab came to the mailbox just yesterday, a very thin but soft-furry feeling that’s smooth to touch and light to wear, so not much complaints. It’s not a shiny fabric which I loathe. It’s also very much cheap, cheaper than rice boxes Mrs. Iin sells everyday and I got this without paying the shipping fee (again, blame that cheap online shops–the marketplace!).

I bring green grapes for snacks but they run out very quick.

Something About Her

My encounter with her was not a coincidence, as is the case with people on the street or at school. You may call it fate, for meeting and watching over her is a direct command addressed to me by my boss with whom I have served for many years. I’m his favorite personnel, never argue, always do whatever he tells me to do.

I had no experience dealing with women and therefore this woman moved me to these wonderful new experiences inside my soul even though I only watched her pulling back her hair or stepping into high heels. She hardly did amazing things – but I enjoyed seeing her talk of trivial things, eat ice cream, and, especially, play music. One time I was deeply moved by the thrilling melody she played with her cello.

And when she made a mistake, however unrelated to me, I had got mad inside that I couldn’t accept her behavior so that I – who was usually calm and emotionless (even this thing had never approached me) – yelled at her and caused her leave in anger. My boss didn’t order me to yell; just do reporting to him. Which I deliberately didn’t do, because … because is there something in my heart? Because this time my emotions played a role, because for the first time I felt sure I had a mind of my own, which I had resolved myself.

Is this even true? I was acting awkward in confronting this reality, it was awfully unusual, it made me unable to sleep although many times I turned off the lights on the side of my bed and turned it on again because who knows it could wake me up from this madness.

Although we never met again afterwards and I was sure I was feeling fine, there was this strange drive spread through my fingers while pressing her phone number for unexplained purposes, and I forced myself to understand as she never picked them up.

My boss asked, “why are you doing this?” and I wasn’t sure how to explain. I reluctantly murmured things about conscience’s calling. He kept urging, distrusting. I didn’t have an idea yet that my boss had probably believed that I was secretly in love with her, which for him, was the reason for my defiance of duty. Not because I was a rebel. Not out of conscience. But because of her alone.

Something about her.

And so he had punished me real hard: injuring me to the last breath, wounding my body, even burying me alive.

I gradually realized that my disloyalty and dishonesty to his order is only a small matter; jealousy is the ultimate motive.

“Why do you punish me this way when I have been faithful to you for years?” I demanded, keeping my might to stay alive, crying my heart out.

“Do you really want her this much?” my boss asked in disbelief. It must had been quite shocking that his faithful dog apparently had a desire – that I broke through many hardest boundaries to earn it.

We were both silent. I ended his life. His men followed to do the same thing to me. I fell to the floor and could barely bear the remnants of my breath as my fingers, slowly – perhaps reflexively – dialed her number on my phone, out of the blue.

She replied on the other end. Her voice sounded delicate and weak. Finally, I thought, I really want to talk to you, I want us together to unravel any riddles of the world. Unable to speak, I heard somewhere the shuddering music she had used to play. The leaves were falling by the wind. Her smile to me behind the glass wall. My eyes blurred, remembering how I finally managed to smile when I first seeing her playing the music. I watched the leaves up there, and smiled again as my breath stopped.

Based on the movie A Bittersweet Life (2005), a Korean thought-provoking movie that has changed my life. I write this short story as my interpretation in regards of the movie, because it’s difficult to express my verdict about it perfectly – so much feels, so much lessons about life, so much pain it left you after seeing the ending credits. A very brilliant movie, I must say, very well-made, very astounding actors and actress; I haven’t seen any quite like this before.

After A Long Day

If I could finish a line or two on this writing tonight, which I started on the verge of tiredness and at the end of the day, I would be surprised to acknowledge how strong I really am.

One doesn’t need to endure the impact of concrete bumps, severe blows to the body, or salty drops of blood to understand the meaning of pain, injury and fatigue. The fact is that the simplest things like uncertainties and/or misfortunes of the fate of loved ones can be totally devastating to every heart. The absence of companion to share the day slowly wipes out any hopes. Losing the cause of laughter obviously makes loneliness such a loyal ally wherever you are.

Heck, this writing would not even exist if I was happy and felt the fulfillment of all desires. Being happy just doesn’t let my mind roams around and write about deep, appealing things – probably because my heart is bloomed with intense positive thoughts that creating smiles on my face while I’m listening to my favorite old tunes.

I mean I’m happy. The life that I’m living may only be a fantasy for many people. Then why do I seem to haven’t found something yet? Am I asking too much? Is it too high for me to reach?

Above all gratitude and peace in my life, I nevertheless still feel empty somewhere … though that doesn’t mean I would want to quit, cry and curse – I will be strong to earn it, even though I have to uncover the curtains of ashes and wash the dirt away.

If for them I project the image of a woman without blemish, or whether I am so sinful, they still don’t understand who I really am, and instead of trying to be they choose to stomp on the false impressions they want to keep: to make them feel better over their insecurities, I guess.

Depending on the others is not recommended by any paradigms but many people helplessly do that. They should have known that if someone makes himself his own hero to depend on then there should be so much destruction and loss to be prevented.