The Constitution of Marriage Simply Confuses Me

Still a little bit behind with this being the October Writing Challenge: Day 18.

Disclaimer: Single as fuck over here. 

Love is meant to be beautiful. Hard yet sweet. The most noble thing you can do for someone is love them.
Yeah, sounds like bullshit to me too.

Marriage is quite a common step after love.
I’ve never had an urge to die alone, but it doesn’t seem completely unlikely to me. I often joke about dying alone, no one would want me. I am not capable of love but the companionship of marriage is not completely horrible.

To be honest, it’s the expectation to be in a relationship is harder. Like for a young Asian woman there’s an expectation of marriage. I don’t care for it, not now at least, but it’s the continuous nagging.

I remember once when I was forced to go to a wedding. (I can discuss how much I hate weddings and how I kick up a fuss when I’m
forced to go but that can be saved for a whole other post.)

So like always I minded my own business, avoiding others and trying to look busy on the phone. But this older woman began to talk to me. She was nice and friendly. She began casually talking about marriage, which given the setting was not odd. She was quite accepting of my inability to cook just mentioning when marriage arises I will also have a desire to and can get my husband to cook for me. I told her that marriage wasn’t for me and that I’ve got time before I think about all that shit.
She was even saying that she knew a young girl who got married while still studying and she continued with it because her in-laws were amazing to her. Treated her like a daughter and had a mutual understanding.
She then began to mention her son who has an attitude like me to marriage. When she said he was 24, I just defended him saying that he’s young and you should let him do what he wants.

At the time I thought nothing of it. She was saying that he’s an engineer so I joked saying that he can hook me up with a job.

So when me and my mum went, my mum just goes, “you know she was looking for her son?”
I replied, “yeah, shes probably looking. Hope she finds someone nice.”
“I meant she was looking at you.”
And me being me just goes “nah she was starting a conversation.”
Wow I am dense.

Even now my parents keep saying that I should be in some kind of relationship.
I believe im destined to die alone. There’s nothing wrong with it. It makes life easy. But sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever start to feel lonely but then it would be too late.

No one deserves me. Not because I have that much confidence in myself but because not even I like myself. I can never give them the love they deserve if I don’t love myself. No one deserves that.

All we can see is how life slowly unfolds. 


October Writing Challenge: Day 17

“Hold fast to dreams 

For if dreams die 

Life is like a broken-winged bird 

That cannot fly.”

-Langston Hughes 

It might seem like such a cliche. Don’t give up persevere, blah. But to me, it’s so poetic, immediately when I read this I see the imagery of it. It’s so short yet so descriptive. 

It’s fairly straight forward, Hughes says that we must hold on to our dreams. If we do not then life is as about futile as bird without flight. A bird who is physically pained trying to do what is meant to do. That is the same as a person, without dreaming there is no meaning. It’s in our nature to dream, we get so down on ourselves without dreams. 

I guess there are the exceptions similar to a flightless bird. But even as a pessimist, a person will always end up dreaming otherwise we will get nothing done. 

It’s simple yet effective.

October Writing Challenge: Day 16

Happiness is.. 

The first bite of an extra chocolate cake
The feeling when someone says they were thinking of you
Meeting a friend after a long time
Being with the ones you love
Buying yourself that new shirt or shoes
Listening to your favourite song
Saying your favourite joke

Happiness is everywhere

Don’t miss out on the smallest things that make you happy. No matter how small or vain the indulgence is, as nevertheless it’s still happiness. In this life, it isn’t always the only option so when it is, take it.

Remember there are two sides of the coin and both can never be happiness. 


October Writing Challenge: Day 15

In a word: escapism. I like not thinking about what ever has me feeling down. I avoid problems. 

So when I feel down, I binge watch something. Read a book. Browse online. What makes me feel better is not thinking about things. When I feel like the problem is small enough or I acquire some courage to deal with it then I do but only after I’ve avoided the problem for a long enough time and possibly made it worse. I just like to step back and think about it.

I would like to just escape from my problems constantly. So escapism is there but it’s not the solution. For a while you can have problems that aren’t yours, you know it doesn’t affect you. There’s no consequences and no risk. It’s good for a while. At the very least. 


October Writing Challenge: Day 14

I’m worried I’ll be in a dead end job with incompetent managers. I’m worried I wont be content with what I have. I’m worried I’ll die knowing how it started. 
As much as I say I don’t miss uni, I miss the memories. I miss avoiding all responsibility. Skipping lectures to eat with your friends. Have no cares even though I should care. Not worrying about what’s next. 

Even though I only work part time, maybe less than part time. I just wanna blow off work one day and do everything I’m not meant to. Pull a sickie and then meet my friends to chill and grab dessert. 

I hate that I need to think about what’s next. I hate that I have no clue. I hate there’s a voice inside me that I’ll spend my whole life trying to figure it out. As a result I hate that I might never be happy with this grating voice. 

I just worry that I’ll never do what I want. 

I worry I may never find what I want.


October Writing Challenge: Day 13

What inspires you? My goodness, I’ve exhausted this topic but here we go… 
I don’t have a specific person or thing which inspires me. I get my creativity in bursts from different factors.

Usually while I procrastinate maybe watching a TV show or even listening to a song, I get an odd spurt of inspiration. I had so much motivation while reading Bakuman (a manga) a few years ago, the guy in there was so admirable. While in highschool a classmate got him to team up to become a mangaka. As a result, he had to keep up with education  (the exams in japan are an actual craziness) and still spent most of his days aspiring to be a mangaka. He was constantly working to his goal and it inspired me to do what I love.
Another time was when I was watching a kurt cobain documentary and seeing nirvana rise to fame really inspired me.

Other than fictional characters or people I don’t know, my family. They constantly inspire me. Like I know them so well but they can tell me something about themselves which surprise me and make me respect them more.
My mum’s unconditional love.
My dad’s jack of all trades personality.
My brothers determination.
They all inspire me.

So while I can’t guarantee one thing to inspire me, I have many things that do. And many things in the future that will.
Without doubt, my inspiration comes down to me trying to better myself. I’m not the person I want to be, not yet at least. 


October Writing Challenge:Day 12

It seems these challenges want me to continuously talk about my faults, all the problems I’ve faced past and present have all stemmed from me. From my own doings, my very own actions. 

The most recent problem I’ve had was actually today. On Saturday I used my laptop all day after neglecting it for a month, I wrote some fiction and updated my latest short story. My brother wanted to use my laptop so I logged out and let him log into his own account and BAM black screen. My confident “nah man don’t worry, give it a minute.” 30 minutes passed and nothing. Literally just a black screen. I spent the entirety of Saturday trying to figure it out. Eventually, I got a blue screen and unsuccessfully could not get it to reset. Like nada.
I don’t know of you have this ego thing where you just feel like you can do it. Like with no unearned confidence but nevertheless you convince yourself you know what you’re doing even if you’re a complete novice. That was me, I preserved, I watched many youtube videos and read endless forums. Alas, I did not prevail. I spent Sunday admitting defeat and in the evening had a burst of confidence once again leading to me trying with no outcome.
I decided to leave it to the big guns. Go to the place that sold me it. I was reminded of Carrie going to the Tech Support and being hella extra by wrapping her computer in a pashmina while being rude to Aiden.

I think I mention my love for Aiden too much but look at him, he’s great-look at that level of support.

Even the person there couldn’t fix it.
So I had the hardest goodbye of my life so far. Bidding adieu to my laptop. For about 6 weeks, max.
I don’t rely on my laptop for much but when I have a burst in writing creativity or job applications it’s there. So for now I will have to update blog posts solely on my phone like I did when I first started my blog. However, work I previously had on it will now be gone. Believe me when I say that no best sellers on it but even if it was crap, I like to read over my work. For nostalgia at the very least.

Moral of the story, always back up.

Sometimes it astounds me shes a writer who claims her life is on that computer yet doesn’t know the term back up. Before anyone says it I understand she’s fictional.


October Writing Challenge: Day 11

This connects back to day 5 which highlights the fact that there are quite a lot of areas of my life I would like to improve. Just to save time here are a few goals that I wanna make sure I stop ignoring. 

1. Do a blog post twice a week
2. Start writing, 2 pages a day
3. Exercise 3-4 times a week
4. Get a new job by 2018


Nightfall: Part 2

This is two days late but better late than never, I guess? This is a continuation of my previous post, and the October Writing Challenge: Day 10.

The warmth of the mug radiated to my hands. I stared down at the hot tea, oddly entranced. I felt the condensation trickle to my fingertips. There was an odd comfort in a cup of tea. The steam raised up warmed up my face as I slowly took a sip. Familiarity, is all I could think.

After being lost in this place, the “reaper” lead me to his house and gave me tea, after I insisted. I would never go to a stranger’s home, but considering I still refuse to acknowledge this was real, I made the exception. It was homelier than I imagined. On the outside, it looked like a small bungalow but inside it was oddly spacious. The minimalist composition further added to this sparse look. There were no walls, you could see from one end of the room to the other. As I came through the doors, the small kitchen particularly stuck out. It differed from the house which was dark and stylish. The kitchen cabinets were white and the walls were a pale yellow. It also meant he had to eat and that there were places around to get food from. Both were a comforting fact.

The rest of the house was dark, which suited him. Even the couch I rest on was black. Behind me was his bedroom, with black bedsheets and a black bed frame. The walls were an array of grey.

My trance was cut short from the harsh steps of the so-called reaper. Before I could look up, I could see him pacing back and forth in my peripheral vision.”I don’t understand.”
“You and me both, dude.” Finally relaxed and embracing the new warmth, I gulped down the hot tea. I stretch on his couch and began to lay down.
“No, no” he rushed toward me before my back could rest against the leather of the couch, he placed his hand on my back and pushed me up. “No,” he repeated. “Don’t make yourself comfortable. You’re going heaven or hell. Or anywhere. But you don’t belong here.”
“Well, you’re apparently the expert, so you tell me.”
Clearly, I was a novice at this whole dying thing. He tried to retaliate he quickly stopped himself, knowing he had no argument.  “Why are you relaxed now, anyway? Ten minutes ago, you were frantic, cursing me out.”
I shrugged. “Ten minutes ago, you were level-headed and carefree. Frazzled much?” I knew I was pissing off my only hope to get out but I just felt so serene. “What usually happens when someone dies?”
“I get a name and when I read the name I can see the person’s face. I wander out to the forest and in the middle of the plains, I see a body lying there. They are unconscious, laying in the place, every time. When they wake, they can’t recall their life at all but I know their life. But now, they’re in a strange place and we begin. I guide them through these wastelands, where they start to recall events and their life. When they know the truth, then they have reached the end. For each person, it’s different but it’s a gate, a gate to the next life. The final one.”

“Interesting. But it proves I’m not dead. I remember everything, my whole life. My house for example, it’s nice. Not too big but not too small. There’s the porch door which is white and leads to the black tiles and that is where we keep our shoes. Then there’s another door, a cream colour. This leads to our hallway. There’s two doors, the one with a glass pane leads to our living room. It’s all open, so we have a long room and the kitchen at the end. Above the kitchen is a skylight, which you can see from my room. The kitchen has a lot of light which I always hated a bit because it blinds me first thing in the morning. The-”
“Okay!” He cut me off clearly agitated, “I get it! Maybe just the events leading up to when I saw you?”
“There were the same shopkeepers. Nothing out of the ordinary there but the rain. I took a shortcut again not out of the ordinary. It was raining before I came here, heavy rain, it even had the same rain smell mixed with petrol and mud. And of course, weird rabid dog panting which I thought came from you.”
His eyes widened. “Hellhounds,” was all he muttered. “Did it bite you tear you limb from limb?”
“No, I ran.”
“No one could ever outrun a hellhound, especially how unfit you are from how I saw you hunched over from running. It is just so weird.”
I let him think about it, making a conscious effort not to make any sound. I good ten minutes passed and I felt his tension only increase.

I extended my hand out as a sign of friendship. “As you know my name is Alyssa. I just found it odd that we haven’t been formally introduced.”

He was wary but graciously accepted my act of kindness, remaining silent.

“This is the portion of the evening where you say your name.”
“I’m reaper, I guess.”
“That’s not a name, you must have had a name once. A life aside from reaping.”
“This is all I know. All I have ever done. I am but a reaper.”
“So how long you been doing this gig?”
“What is with the interrogation?”
“I’m trying to be friendly.”
“I think I preferred when you were threatening me.” He sighed, “as far back as I can remember. The beginning of time, I guess. I don’t know. There was no life before this for me, and there will be no life after.”
“De-pressing,” I said in a sing song tone.
“I am sorry I don’t get the same luxury as you pathetic humans.” That hurt me more than anything he said so far, I was questioning if I went too far.

It wasn’t long before he spoke again. “I apologise for my outburst. But I have seen a lot of people. I have seen their deepest darkest secrets and all their desires. I see how truly flawed they are. I am not the one to pass judgement. But I see it. I can’t pretend like I haven’t seen it.”
“I don’t want to make this about myself again but can you see anything about me, even a glimpse?”
“That’s exactly it. I see nothing. You’re blank. Usually, I see everything and when I look in their eyes I see their souls. The eyes are a window to the soul, never underestimate how true that is. I see what they don’t know about themselves. Just to summarise, paper, vision, memory lane which then leads to the gate. I’m a glorified delivery boy. With you, there’s nothing, I didn’t even realise you came here, I didn’t know your face, I know nothing about you. it irks me.”

“Maybe it’s just a delayed reaction. What if you look in my eyes like really look in them?”

“It couldn’t hurt to try,” he said with an unexpected smirk. This was the first time he even came close to a smile and I couldn’t help smiling back. We sat opposite each other, my legs were folded and he sat upright. As he stared into my eyes, I could see him once again reaching a disappointing blank. “You have black eyes,” he whispered.

I know he didn’t see my years unfold before his very eyes because I saw his. The entirety of the reaper’s existence flashed before my eyes. But he was no reaper, he may be one now, but he wasn’t from the start as he believed. There is more to his story, that he has yet to learn. A sad story, a boy born destined to live a normal life, he lived a boy but died before he became a man. As my vision became clouded and I felt a dampness on my face, I could barely see his face change. Empathy. Something he hadn’t felt in years despite the thousands of people who previously broke down in front of him.

“Micah,” was all that came from my lips.

He looked at her in disarray, completely unaware of all that she had seen. He began to wipe my tears with his thumb, which I know that he hasn’t ever been compelled to do this for any other soul. That only made me tear up more. I abruptly stood up, startling him slightly. My back was turned to him, and quickly wiped my eyes with my sleeves.

I felt eyes behind me staring a hole through the back of my head, as I tried to regain my composure around this stranger a second time today. I dug my hands deeps into my pocket and felt a roughness at the bottom, which I brushed over with my thumb. I took out the foreign object, which was a scrunched-up piece of paper which I had never seen before. As I unfolded it, it revealed the new name I had just learnt.

I could decipher my new role which I really wish I didn’t have to take.




Nightfall: Part 1

Another fiction piece to continue the October Writing Challenge. This is Day 9.

My feet hit the pavement with the same relaxed pace as always, it was too calculated. The same route, I would be late but no one would realise. I arrive at work as always, the same day I had for the past two years. I would be late and they would say nothing, therefore I will continue to take my time. My footsteps grew heavier as the same unease shot through me. This town was too plain, almost too ordinary. Nothing ever changed, not the people, never their routine. There were the eyes of the barber peering out of his glass shop front. There was the same awful aroma coming from the real estate agents sucking their morning fag. Then the barking of the dog with his owners resting on the bench. All mixed continuous familiar bustle of cars in traffic. This isn’t where I’m meant to be, I had always thought. This just doesn’t feel right.

A singular rain drop fell, I even knew the weather. I came prepared and sighed as I pulled the umbrella from my bag. It didn’t take much longer and the rain to become heavier before the streets were cleared. Usually, I could take a bus but all the vehicles were at a standstill due to the “unexpected” rain. Thus, I chose to walk, in the shower of rain. Because why not? Because at least people were not around. I was enjoying my solitude, cutting through the park as m usual shortcut until I heard an unfamiliar sound of footsteps running through mud. The footsteps were coming toward me fast and as it neared a heavy panting could also be distinctly heard. The rain dropping on the ground muffled some of the sound but there was no mistaking it, the footsteps were close.

My pace had already quickened but not fast enough, before I knew it I was in a full out sprint. I could no longer hear anything aside from the sound of rain on grass. I hunched over still with the umbrella in my hand and tried to catch my breath. My throat ached from the weather and the most exercise I have done in years, breathing hurt yet I was hyperventilating. It felt as if my chest was on fire, and there was a twinge of fear instilled into me. I felt a cold bony hand on my shoulder. “Finally,” it echoed. The voice was deep, coming from a man towering over me. He stood up straight making his six foot demeanour even higher. He was very much composed unlike me, there was no uneven breathing, just serenity. He was completely unfamiliar. I looked up his face which was almost illuminating from its sheer paleness. His dark attire did not help his complexion, he wore a long black jacket with a hood over his head with strands of long damp black hair peeking out. However, the most unsettling thing were his black eyes staring down at me.

“Why were you running?” he asked.

This invoked an anger within me, the fear had completely subsided when this question was asked.  “Excuse me, you came running at me at full speed, panting like a rabid dog. I think the logical thing was to run.”

He laughed. It seemed so odd, so unnatural. “Please, honey, I don’t run.”

There was a strange anxiety, if the footsteps didn’t belong to this stranger, then there is something else out there. I looked around, expecting to see the same red bricks from the wall. The path that would lead me to work. There was none of that, the heavy downpour had stopped but the grey sky remained. It was darker than I recalled. I still scanned around hoping to see anything familiar. There was a railroad a few hundred yards away, almost completely concealed by trees. In a distance a large long building could be seen. It was an odd kind of forest.

I was speechless as I continued to stare at my new surroundings, I felt the eyes of the strange man in front of me who I almost forgot about. He stared at me and attempted to break the silence. “So, what are you, like a witch or something?”

“What did you call me?”

“Not a witch. You can’t be a reaper too. Sure, you’re pale enough but your eyes are brown.”

“Excuse me. I’m not going to stand here and be insulted.” I was ready to turn around and leave but didn’t know where to go.

“I guess you’re small enough to be a fairy.” He smiled at his quip, then saw my expression, I continued to glare at him. “That can’t be it. There is hate in those eyes, you are nowhere near sparkly enough to be a fairy. With those eyes, you must be a siren.”

“Hey freak. What the fuck are you talking about?”

There was silence. He stared at me as if I were the strange one.

“Actually, you know what I don’t have time for this. Just tell me where I am so I can go work.”


“Where am I?” I repeated.

“That is where you are.”

“Nightfall is not a real place.”

“Look around, darling. That is where you are.”

“I am lost in a strange place with strange man.”

“I am no mere person. I am a reaper.”

I fell to the ground and uttered the most pathetic words: “I’m gonna be late for work”.

“So, you’re new in town?”

“I’m going to die here.”

A silence crept across us again. He didn’t leave, he just stuck around. It was a kind gesture but I wanted him to leave more than anything.

“Hate to break it to you but if you’re here then you’re probably already dead.”

God, why could he not leave. “Earlier when you said you were a reaper. Did you mean like grim?”

“Is there any other kind?” a proud smile spread across his face, as he bowed slightly.

When he hunched over I grabbed his collar. “You bastard did you bring me hear. I’ll fucking kill you.”

“What a horrible misconception.” He sounded hurt and easily escaped my weak grasp. “Reapers don’t kill people, they only guide them to the afterlife.”

“Genius, are you meant to guide anyone today.”

“I usually get a name, one second.” He gestured with his index finger as he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his breast pocket, unfolding it neatly and read it. He glimpsed at my ID badge and finally, his eyes widened.