This World Still Wants You

She had not yet met him. She had not yet gotten a chance to know him, yet she has already created a world with him in it. She found herself frequenting this world. Here, they were familiar with each other.

She was a mother. A world-maker. She creates multiple worlds where she lives multiple lives, multiple versions of herself, multiple revisions inspired by her realities.

One of her worlds is dedicated to the books she reads. This world continuously transforms according to what she’s reading. In this world, she meets her characters. In this world, her understanding is unparalleled, unafraid to dissect the persons of her characters, especially those she would not want to meet and be friends with in reality. In this world, she explores meaning, reason, and purpose. In this world, she is not only a reader. She is a seeker, an omnivorous scholar of life and the supernatural.

Her best world is the world where she is still with her mother. An intimate, joyful, and loving world where they are and continue to be inseparable. It is from this world where she draws the strength to continue, to carry on with her life in the real world.

But no matter the details of her worlds, reality always catches up with her. Following her. Disguising itself as a stranger in either of her worlds and sometimes, as part of nature, such as a dark cloud threatening a storm in her sun-filled blue skies. Reality remains to be inevitable, always powerful, inescapable.

So she is left with no other choice. She returns to the world where she knew no more pleasant hellos, only painful farewells. The world where an ever-present absence robbed the purpose of her life and the only love she acknowledged and knew. The world where she has to live through the pain. A welcomed pain that was now an equivalent to the loss of a love so great and so true. The world that still wanted her, somehow. This reality, she had to learn how to want it again. She has to, someday, still far away.

Time is the Enemy

There was so much that had to be done. She needed to do so many things. She wanted them all done. But a day always seemed never enough.

It was then when she learned how Time is the enemy. Excluding ourselves, isn’t it true that Time is always one of the constant factors that prevent us from completing tasks, from moving, or from staying?

We all walk against and across Time. Look at the list of formulas in mathematics, physics, chemistry, and others, do they not involve time?

“Time is the enemy,” she wept and declared in exhaustion and with deliberate accusation. Time prevented her from completing her tasks in the day.

Time prevented her from keeping her mother. Time prevented her from making her mother stay. Time prevented her from reuniting with her mother again.

More time. She remembers how she begged for more. Not forever, no, not the impossible, but just more time together. But Time cut it all short. With that, Time burned down her dreams, her plans, her heart to ashes.

To some, there is never enough time. To others, there is too much time to spend. We are all never satisfied with Time. Only Time satisfies itself.

I disagree with you, Sir Beric Dondarrion. Death is not the enemy. Time is the enemy.

Stark Reunions

In the end,
we will all
return to each other.
I look forward
to the end.
We will meet again
in the North.
[A Game of Thrones musing.]


We create ripples.
What we do now ripples to the next generation.


She hid her sadness
in chocolate lipstick shade
trivial chatter
and loud laughter.