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My back’s hurting so i look for a seat. I sit and it still hurts. I shift my weight to get comfortable but the pain shoots around at different angles instead.

Page 144. I continue reading and for a moment i’m taken out of my body, away from the world, into the book. Then the bus slows down and i look up, in time to see my stop approaching. I get up and head to the door.

My back’s hurting.

Pain is life. Life is pain.

The guy in front of me has his right arm bent at that slightly awkward angle and you know he’s broken it before. Funny how broken arms heal in that strange way. He looks happy and doesn’t seem to notice his strange-angled arm sticking out like a sore thumb. Sore arm.

Thinking about his arm takes my mind away from the pain and then it all comes back again. I’m strong, tall, i look healthy. No one would imagine me hurting so much. Every moment since that day i’ve had the pain. It’s a strange sensation, it doesn’t hurt to the point i scream out, it’s a kind of discomfort. Like a tight muscle that won’t loosen no matter how much you stretch it. It’s stubborn and sticking at all the wrong places, probably pulling my bones out of their happy resting spots.

The man with the once-broken arm is in front of me, waiting too to cross the road. The other man is red and the cars are still zooming across us.

In one blissful moment i forget everything and nothing is on my mind. I don’t feel my legs as i cross the road, the red man screaming out at me silently through his mouthless face. I just walk and don’t see the cars zooming around me.

The sudden shriek of brakes makes me stop and i turn to see a lorry just inches from me, the driver’s face curled in anger, shouting something about me in some language, his one arm on the wheel the other making strange shapes and movements. It’s supposed to mean something but i just stare at him.

I squint to see if he’s got a strange-angled arm too. It seems fine. I guess he had a good childhood free from broken arms.

I go back to thinking about the pain in my back as i resume crossing the road.

Pain is life and life is pain.

I wish to die. Am i a bad person for wishing to die? I like this gift thank you very much but i’m tired, and i can’t go on, so please take it back. I’ll wait but just so you know i would very much like you to take it back, if that’s okay with you. If it’s not then it’s alright but i just wanted you to know. Yes. Yes that’s right. Mmhmm. Uh-huh. Okay i’ll hold, no problem. Thank you.



1: Hey nice shirt, man

2: Oh, thanks! I just got it last week

1: Sweet, i’ve got one just like that actually

2: Nice!

1: Yeah! Except it’s red

2: Oh i think i saw that

1: And the collar on mine is slightly different. That design at the back too, come to think of it. Oh and the logo on mine is on the other side. Probably another brand. You know what i think they are actually two very different shirts

2: Lol


Lately i’ve been thinking
About the demon i found in the sand
Tiny body of evil
Squirming and helpless
I took it in and raised it like my own
And when it was strong enough i set it upon the world
To find its way
And lead others astray
I miss having it around

The rotten stench of decay
It still hangs in my house
A lingering reminder
Of the time and energy i put in


I have all these vivid and detailed descriptions about comical and interesting-looking personalities and people. They would make splendid characters except i don’t use them, because they are actually absolutely based on people i’ve seen. I can’t say i’ve liked any one of them, so i won’t immortalize those characters in my writing.


The moment i saw him it hit me that his face was big. Too big, way too big. It looked very odd and a little scary, compared to his tiny-looking body which was in fact rather average-sized. When he spoke it gave me the shivers and every time he turned his head i retched a bit. The entire composition of his image threw me off balance and i wanted to bad to run away from the room and jump into a pool of ice water or even fire. I didn’t care, i just needed out. But i couldn’t go, i had to stay and watch, and so from behind the one-way glass i suffered, him oblivious to how his peculiar brand of ugliness was affecting me so powerfully and negatively. I wondered then if even his mother loved him.



Fit people give shape to tight clothes. Fat people are shaped by tight clothes.


Some people complain that they didn’t ask to be born in the first place. But hold a gun to their head and they’ll beg for their lives. They didn’t ask to be alive? Maybe they did, a long time ago. Their minds can’t remember but perhaps something within their spirit does.


I guess it’d be kinda cool if our currency was edible. Barter trade feels. Hmm… What is life.


As I came up with the title for this post it occurred to me that Everest is a truthful name so long as the mountain does not move.



It’s okay to not be strong, but it’s not okay to choose weakness.


More pay means bigger responsibilities, not more work. When people get promoted they will still have 24 hours in a day just like everybody else.


When i first took the serum i was immediately overwhelmed by the rush of sensory intake. I heard more, saw more, felt more, and just as the crescendo seemed to be slowing down, it exploded in my face and i reeled. I felt myself falling, felt the pull of the earth and the sound of all my organs shifting. I smelt the floor and saw the specks of dust float up. Everything was spinning so fast i didn’t have time to be nauseous.

But within a few minutes it settled, the same way your brain learns to ignore unimportant sensory information every single moment of your waking life. Try it, direct your consciousness from your toes up and you’ll be aware of sensations that have always been there but were shut out because they were not relevant to the primary task at hand.

Once my brain got used to my heightened senses, things became very pleasant indeed. I could see further just by looking harder, heard the softest and most distant of sounds just by concentrating, and the same went for everything else. It was a heightened level of consciousness that felt so effortless and strangely normal. It was like this had always been me but i had forgotten about it, kept it in a dust-covered box, locked behind a door in a house full of rooms.

The sad part was that within a day or so i got so used to it that nothing felt special anymore. I think my adaptive response was faster than average but it was bound to happen eventually. And so going against reason and the advice of my colleagues, i took another dose that night, when everyone had left for the day.

I couldn’t imagine the experience being bad, but within minutes of the shot i realized with much dread just how wrong i was.



If my words don’t reach your heart then it is only because it is mine that is stained and rusted.


How would you describe the state of a man who puts off going to sleep, but then hates waking up. Who cannot wait for his life to end, yet dreads the approach of Death. Who feels neither love nor hatred, joy nor sorrow.

Perhaps you could call him the line between darkness and light; it should be present but isn’t.


The best thing to have happened to me was the realization that i was nothing, but had to be grateful for everything.


A single mistake is sometimes better than ten lessons.


Society is divided into two valid groups of people: those who take care, and those who are taken care of. For the latter, their very existence makes them productive members of society. The burdensome ones are those who are able to at least take care of themselves but choose not to.


The law is reliable so long as it is perfect. Humans are imperfect and therefore so are our creations, hence the loopholes in our law. How foolish when the Creator already sent us an instruction manual and a guide.


I wanted to write a book was afraid, so i wrote and compiled a thousand one-liners instead. It turned out to be a good book.


Today’s bad grammar is simply tomorrow’s language.


Give a man a hammer and he forgets he has one free hand.


Never be angry at your mother for treating you like a child because no matter how old you are, she will look at you and see her precious little baby.


You will probably never truly appreciate parenthood and the sacrifice of your parents till you see your own children as parents.


I thought i was lonely, then i realized i was just sad.


The only secret to success is to understand what it is. You will never reach a goal if you don’t know where you’re headed.


How beautiful, friendship. When once a pair were strangers, now they trust each other with their own lives. Somewhere on their path since meeting their hearts became intertwined and their souls awakened to the familiarity of having met in a different time.


“O Allaah, i complain to You about problems which You know about. I ask of You for what You deem best for me, for i do not know. Please make me amongst those whom are pleased with what You have chosen.”


Children are innocent and adorable yet sticky and gross.


The language of the heart is beyond what can be spoken by the tongue.


The imaginable possibilities of what happens after death are:

  • you completely cease to exist, thus making this life meaningless as there would be nothing of you to regret not having lived a full life
  • you exist differently, remain on the earth, and remember your past life, which can be extremely stressful especially if you’re reborn as a snail. Good luck with adjusting to your new speed of movement
  • you exist differently, no longer on the earth, and remember your past life, which could make you very sad, leave you with a terrible longing, or make you unimaginably glad unless your new existence is not as good as your pre-death one. Especially if your actions while living affects your new dead existence. This gives life maximum meaning.
  • you exist differently, remain on the earth, and don’t remember your past, which also makes this life meaningless. Even if your actions now affect your future existence, you won’t remember a thing so it doesn’t matter
  • you exist differently, no longer on the earth, and don’t remember your past life, which could have the same effect as the point above
  • you continue to exist in this manner, no longer on the earth, and don’t remember your past, which is again redundant
  • you continue to exist in this manner, still on earth, and don’t remember your pas, also redundant


Some people have nice features and their faces are proportionate. You would expect them to be considered beautiful but yet something is missing. Could it be a warmth in the eyes? Sincerity of the smile? Goodness of the heart shining through the face?

I don’t know, but I do know is that there are people with awful features whom I consider beautiful.



Technological advancements always eventually spillover into transportation. Somehow quantum processors were integrated into nationwide transport systems, improving the flow and movement of traffic. Needless to say vehicles became more efficient and ‘safer’ in a sense.

Whilst travel times did drop, we thought we would do so much more. And we did, although not as much as expected. History was a teacher that never was wrong.

And when instant transmission first entered the market, it kicked up a storm. The world had to prepare itself for a major disruption in how we thought about traveling. For awhile it did seem like everything else would become redundant, but of course not. Older, less efficient forms of transportation hung around merely because people enjoyed the visceral experience of moving their bodies across vast distances by air, land or sea.

Much later, when the technology was much more stable and roared upon the world with full force, instant transmission was thought to have ushered in a new age. Thinkers and influencers went on and on about how the introduction of the first domestic-use devices would revolutionize even the way we think about time. Meetings would start earlier because everyone would be early! Just a press of the button and you’d be there, what reason was there to be late?

Alas the historians and human psychologists were not surprised when things largely remained the same. People were still late, time was still wasted, and everything became routine.

Alas when it came to ‘progress’, it was very much a human concept and we were the only ones who bothered with it, defined it, then tracked it. No surprise then that we are both its catalyst and weakest link.



At first I was counting down the years till the end of my working contract, then I began counting down the months of the year, then I started taking it week by week and now I live almost day to day, counting away the blocks on my timetable whilst almost looking forward to the weekend. Still a part of me is excited for the coming holiday.

But the years are too long, it’s painful to look that far. And when I shorten it I can’t find a sweet spot either. I think and think then realize that more than my job, I’m counting the days to the end of my life.

There’s nothing I look forward to and this world is a strange place.

The one solace in my death is that it doesn’t necessarily have to take months or years; it could happen any day.



I had to have my understanding of life wrenched out of my grasp, for me to realize it was fleeting and far from the truth. With no compass and everywhere to go, I was pushed out of desperation, to seek out, nay, discover, what life truly held for me. I had to peel back the scab which had grown so firmly fixed, then dig through the raw flesh to see for myself what I had once been able to see, but have since covered up. My existence is not moot, but I’ve been living life without meaning nor benefit.

What is my end goal?



Everything means nothing,
And i know nothing about anything