Tag: memories

Posted in Past

A fragment that failed its’ purpose

Posted on by palebluefragment

This piece of metal (image removed) is fragment of a massive explosion that landed on my room’s balcony in 2013. I was laying on my bed next to a wall-sized glass door. I always sat there and let my body get soaked in the subtle sunlight, as I watched the clouds moving in the sky in a swaying rythme. I would lay on my back and imagine as if gravity is reversed and the blue sky is my ground; a thought I was often amused by. I felt so lucky being able to watch the sky from my own bed and more clearly and vividly, from my balcony. The sky might’ve been at some point the most exciting thing in that lifeless town I called Home.

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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

Nostalgia &Fear

Posted on by palebluefragment

I was thinking of the unspoken crumbling pieces of memory that make me despise the fractions of moments of sleep when my mind rewinds bits of what once was, as I’m striving to let go of every single detail about who I used to be and how others judgement impacted the way I thought or felt, of friends criticizing my perspective in life and how I wanted to change completely and alter a seemingly endless chapter of a book I couldn’t accept as my reality. I promised myself that self-doubts won’t undermine me and I promised I will be as nice to myself as I am to others and allow myself to sincerely trust and not think about the imperfections that make me cave inside. I knew I couldn’t come across something intriguing without completely melting into it in the process of figuring myself out and it still scares me to get close but at times it’s a paradox of blurry visions and I don’t want to lose a friend that feels like the home I never found in a person cause none of them fulfilled the curiosity I had while I wore my heart out in conversations that teared my brain apart but were never SPOKEN cause the truth is a cloudy fog of uncertainty where I come from and I always ended up with shatters of satisfaction as I poured out sprinkles of infinite thoughts but never received wonder and it was momentary happiness that faded as fast as the shooting star I wished upon on the rooftop of my grandparents house that I can still smell whenever I close my eyes and remember my grandmother’s blue robe and why I refused to hug her one last time.

Posted in Past

Bike Ride

Posted on by palebluefragment

I was this five years old girl on her pink bicycle. We were in my village and there was this slight hill in front of my grandparents’ house. I saw my older siblings go down the hill on their bikes and all I wanted was to do the same. They warned me because it was obvious I would get myself hurt, even I knew it. Still, I waited until no one was around and drove down, a fragile girl on a baby bike with no brakes. I felt so happy going down the tilted road, free and fearless, like what used to race through my imagination watching birds and butterflies. Well until the bike kept going unstoppably to then crash and break into pieces.. and I was there, too, with scratched elbows and bruised knees; I started crying and screaming. This is the highlight of that day still vivid in my memory. But the thing is, looking back now and then I realize that over 19 years life changed so many things about me. It may have changed my pink color fever but it hasn’t made the slightest touch on my stubborn personality. I’ve never accepted being told the consequences of doing something insane, I had to try it myself and I still do. But now, the naive child in me is dead. What would I do at this moment in the same situation? I asked myself. The answer was a crystal clear vision in my head. I would go down that hill all over again, but this time, I will make sure my bike has strong brakes.