Tag: Thoughts

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 Thoughts

Letters

Posted on by palebluefragment

Your worth as a human being and your academic success are directly correlated. The road to success is paved with anxiety and fear. Fear is becoming greater than your passion. Diminishing passion is killing your motivation. It is killing creativity. Who needs creativity when the only qualification you need is a letter on a transcript? Worry about creativity only as a subject of the future. The far far future. After you secure your future and your creativity dies. Who will die? You or it? Are you truly alive when you’re not doing what truly makes you feel alive? Are you sure that what you think makes you alive is what makes you alive? You need the fear. Maybe sacrifice a year. Your twenty first year. Your twenty second year. Get hypnotized. Wake up in your twenty forth or fifth year with a paper and a letter. A letter that will secure the future you killed for a number of years in your twenty something years. Do not look around and wonder like a foolish young person with a dreamer’s disease. Your symptoms are clear. One is the failure to separate reality from the illusion. Dreams are causing you confusion. Fear is getting bigger and it’s onto killing the dream. You talk to someone who “knows better”. They say it’s better to cure your disease before it spreads. They say the cure is the letter. They know better. Worry now and think later. Do the following steps: One. Two. Three. This is all you need to know. Leave now. Come back when you get better. And by better I mean, your worth printed in better letters.

Posted in Stories

Eight hours of void

Posted on by palebluefragment

On May the 7th, at 4 pm and after a long debate, my brother and I decided to turn our phones off, swap them, and hide them until the next morning. This meant that I had eight hours to kill. The first hour was the hardest. I was thinking about checking my online order, writing a blog, and aimlessly scrolling through Instagram. The hour after, I made myself a cup of tea and searched around the room looking for something productive to do. I found a magazine laying on my desk. It’s been there for months. I got two issues because I was intrigued by the title and the cover and also impressed by the dark mediocre-quality papers. You can tell they’re recycled. I opened it to realize it’s a collection of short stories, poems, and photographs. I read the first three stories. I thought to myself “I wish I had read English books earlier in my life”. “How will I ever be a good writer?” “I must read more often”. “My vocabulary range is so limited”. Then I reminded myself that I should never use yesterday as an excuse. I tidied my room. It’s so satisfying to make my material possessions lesser and lesser every day. Except for clothes, I always need clothes. I talked to my mother about my room in our hometown and what I want to pack from it when I’m able to travel back. “I hope a mortar doesn’t catch it before I do” I said. I sat on the balcony, ate a big bowl of ice cream. I couldn’t listen to music without my phone so I hummed the lyrics. I wrote a list of my dreams and all the things I want to achieve. I folded the paper two times then teared it into pieces. Made sure it was impossible to be assembled by anyone again. No one should ever know my late evening thoughts. I took a shower. I felt light as spring and I felt soft. I fell asleep around midnight and I had wonderful dreams. I kept closing my eyes in the morning trying to get myself back to sleep, to save as much dreams in my memory as I can. I woke up around nine, got my phone back, turned it on. I put it on the desk and sat in my bed for a while. It was calm and my head was clear. I picked my phone up, checked my online order, wrote a blog, and aimlessly scrolled through Instagram.

Posted in Thoughts

Prelab

Posted on by palebluefragment

Objective: correct release of unwanted sensations.

Introduction: Showing negative emotions is not cool. Tears are for the pathetic. Sadness must be locked in and hidden three layers under skin: enthusiasm, neutrality, and anguish.

Procedure:

When in solitude, follow the subsequent steps accordingly:

1- slowly peel layers one and two.

Layer one: cool positive outlook on life with an adequate level of mind clarity. Highly socially approved!

Layer two: cool neutral state. A resting bitch face is satisfactory. Mediocre social approval.

Layer three: uncool but true-to-self anguish. Dangerous and leads to social errors. Must remain fully intact for the purpose of this step.

2- activate natural body signals to control the use of layer three. Trust your gut feelings for optimal efficiency.

You’ll observe anguish gushing into tears: A clear soul-cleansing salty liquid. Mmm tastes anguishy!

Don’t calculate the percentage of error. Tear percentage will vary from experiment to another.

3- steadily get out of solitude, rearranging layers one to three. One laying on the surface, three deep underneath. Two in-between. One and two can alternate in case of emergency. Beware of maintaining third layer’s invisibility.

Hazards: tears can lead to a coughing response to clear throat from accumulated phlegm.

Don’t choke on your own tears. Breathe slowly.

References:

“Chemistry of the Uncool Feelings” lab manual, twenty first edition

Posted in Thoughts

Wishes

Posted on by palebluefragment

If wishes make you happy wish until the end of time. Wish every person you knew happiness cause they deserve it, even the ones who caused you pain. Keep changing, growing, and embracing life. Work hard but don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s okay to mess up every once in a while. Leave the past behind, you are yourself now and nothing can change that. Make mistakes, lots of them! It’s healthy trust me. Say yes more often. When you feel like staying in your sweet comfort zone and not taking a risk, that’s exactly when you need to go against your feelings. Sometimes you’ll realize it was a mistake but there’s no mistake more foolish than sitting there wondering what you’re missing out on as life passes by. Learn from the good in people, appreciate it and talk about it. Be loud and confident. Some people won’t like you and that’s okay, stay kind anyway. We’re made of goodness and evil, that’s what makes you complete. The evil in you is just as pretty as any other. You don’t need friends who only want you the way they envision you to be. Cherish the ones who like you whole

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

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.

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.