Tag: diary

Posted in Stories

Mama Bird & Baby

Posted on by palebluefragment

I walked by two baby birds, one of them was clumsy and he couldn’t grab his food as easily as the other bird. I found the clumsiness of the baby bird funny. As I kept walking, I saw the clumsy bird’s mom. I jokingly told her about her baby’s clumsiness and laughed. She got angry and let out a hissing sound showing her sharp teeth, which I’ve never seen a bird show before. I thought that she didn’t understand my joke so I repeated it, but she hissed even harder. I then realized that my joke was not funny at all! Mama Bird didn’t like someone making fun of her baby. She also looked visibly distressed and sad. I don’t understand Bird language, and so it was hard for me to know what was going on in her mind.

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Posted in Thoughts

Edward Scissorhands

Posted on by palebluefragment

I saw Edward Scissorhands across the room and he was beautiful. I went up to take a film photo with him and we started talking. He told me that his favorite day of the year was his birthday and that he always takes a day off for his birthday, that his favorite season is Winter, that he doesn’t have a favorite color, and that he was born on October 19th. He told me that he hated New year’s Eve and thought it was overrated. He said that people just party and drink as if it’s special. I told him how I celebrate New Year’s Eve outside, ice skating and watching fireworks. “That’s nice”, he said. He told me that he worked online for a company abroad and that he’s quitting to take a two-month break. He said he was tired. I put my nail polish between his Scissohand fingers and started painting my nails while he sat and looked at me. He told me that I looked beautiful and I thought he looked even more beautiful but I didn’t get the courage to say it.

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Posted in Thoughts

Academic uncertainties

Posted on by palebluefragment

Sometimes my anxiety feels light and manageable, other times it feels like a more serious troubling issue. I’m not ashamed or worried to talk about it. People take the difficulties you project in a conversation lightly as long as you look and function like a normal person. Maybe developing anxiety is an outcome of being a university student. You need to sacrifice part of yourself to gain something. I’m not selfish. I don’t think there’s a lesson to learn here. Maybe we’re all living different versions of the same battle, or whatever you want to call it. I’ve been choosing to dissociate my thoughts from my feelings. This mechanism helps me to somehow deal with daily tasks that require a high level of focus.

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Posted in Stories

Ketchup Festival

Posted on by palebluefragment

September 5th 2018

I was sitting in the metro with a childhood friend from school and we were discussing the book Mad Shadows by Marie-Claire. I looked to the seat in front of me and saw that my French professor was sitting next to Vincent Van Gogh. I was not surprised because I thought that Vincent was just one of us. My teacher offered to gift me the original book that we were discussing earlier but I refused. I rented books and didn’t like accumulating them. Then I started noticing that Vincent’s ears were perfectly normal and he started looking more angel-like, as if he was taken right out a painting. The metro stopped in the middle of nowhere, doors wide opened and there were trampolines everywhere. Everyone was screaming “ketchup” so I told my friend, teacher, and Vincent not to worry cause it’s the Ketchup festival! We stepped outside of the metro where everyone seemed exceptionally happy! They looked loud but it sounded silent, as if someone put the volume on “mute”. A beautiful man with a nose piercing told me that he loved me and I told him that he’s an asshole because I knew him. I accepted his words anyway. Then we all went to a theatre that had round tables instead of theatre seats. We sat down and ate tuna with lemons.

Posted in Past

Beauty in the details

Posted on by palebluefragment

Tuesday, October 13th, 2015, The sun rays lightly touched my skin as I waited in bed for the alarm to ring. It doesn’t matter what a sleepless night I had, I always manage to wake up earlier than my alarm, get my body the closest it can get to the glass door beside my bed, and let the sunlight warmth soak into my skin. I closed my eyes one more time. My heavy eyelids were getting lighter and warmer as I rewinded dreams of people I may never know. It wasn’t a pleasant morning from all the thinking I had the other night. I was wondering if I’ll ever be able to escape this town before our building crashes over me or something horrifying happens to someone I care for. Living in a war zone makes having these kinds of thoughts inevitable. Nonetheless, I was a positive dreamy child at heart. I smiled back at the glistering goddess beaming down on earth with delicate beauty at 8 am. I stepped out of bed, took my mini calendar in hand. With a purple inked pen, I tapped X on Monday the 12th. It’s a new day. I looked at my face in the mirror. It was calm still and pale. I applied makeup on my self-doubts and wore clothes I felt good seeing myself in. At that particular moment, I felt genuinely happy. A bird was picking on a fallen leaf on my balcony. My cup of tea smelled heavenly delicious. I closed my eyes and took a sip. “Beauty is in the details,” I wrote these words on a scrap of paper and stuck it on the wall in the corner of my room; where my head lied on my pillow. I left the house after taking one last glance with half a smile I got used to looking at myself with, and in pictures, and at people. I thought of all the ones I’ll see today; distant friends I felt happy with but never truly connected to – people who will never know how nice the light gusts of wind and morning sunshine scatters made me feel.