NeverEver

| written around Sep 2023 | A pair of twin goldfish  Flapping their fins like paper fans  They venture deeper and deeper into the dark blue  Skin turning into glass Tentacles sprouting from their organs Wrapping their exterior, forced into a sphere Now they can only tumble, stumble, fumble As they slowly sink into the uncertain  And as they sink, they… No, not they, She. She lost sight of her sister,  The golden sunlight at the break of dawn, The bubbles of laughter exploding with glee, The one holding the headlights of their path, The blanket fort hiding the stairway to the top bunk, was no more.  Young girlhood gone along with her memories  in a suitcase awaiting a new adventure  She was surprised by how she could summon the oceans that the plane flew past  right onto her cheeks, running down in droplets The goldfish turned jellyfish sank deeper  Finding solace in the cold darkness Because she thought  as long as she’s making frie...

| 12:46am | A foot into the last day of August, suggesting the end of summer,  goodbye to the sunlit days  and welcome the cold  filled with all its gloom and melancholy that likes to overstay its welcome  And I was never really a patient person, everyone who knows me knows, but I hold my breath, and hide inside, away from the frost biting my fingertips and ears, slowly creeping their way into my mind, freezing it and all its assets. Nothing mechanic works well in the winter,  artificial thawing being too hard to achieve  since it's best done outwardly.  So I wait,  in the dark,  in the cold,  amidst the howling winds, I wait.  And wait some more.   

The Abandoned Memories The pair traversed past the disfigured hills and cracked roads on their vehicle, before finally at their destination. Or rather, the place where it all began for the two of them. Ryota hands a pair of padded gloves to Shota, 'Did you tuck in the bottom of your trousers?' The other raised one of his legs and knocked at the exposed leather of his boots with his knuckles. He took the gloves from his partner and unlocked the car door, 'Here goes nothing.' With a small thud, landing on to solid ground below. Ryota took a small backpack and an oxygen tank, just in case this area had anything unusual going on, after all, it's been abandoned since forever ago. Longer than the time these two were separated from each other. Even longer than all those years they know each other.  They surveyed the damaged neighbourhood they found themselves in, structures that seemed both familiar and foreign, an uncanny sight to behold.  A beep from the communicator jol...

written  ➳ August 21, 2024 1:16am Ever since I was young, I seemed to always have a knack for the supernatural, not necessarily seeing ghosts, but the memories of those deceased and gone. And when they seem to have stronger attachments to something in particular, physical or not, the memories seem brighter and louder, more vibrant to the mind's eye.  And as we walked through the remnants of a battlefield from the 1860s on a sightseeing tour, I felt drawn to a singular patch of grass, there was nothing special from the looks of it, it blended seamlessly into the rest of the greenery we were amidst, all it has was a singular dandelion standing up proud, beaming at the sunbeam streaming through the trees, I knelt down to poke it lightly, not wanting to steal nature's job, in a sense. As if hearing my thoughts, a small breeze picked up the dandelion seeds and scattered them all around me, some flew further away and out of sight, a few landed next to me. And one, the runt of the li...

 #1 The Kitchen in Base No.9 One day, suddenly nights agreed upon their disappearance, and we were forced to endure the heat of the never setting sun, without the rising and setting of the sun, the sky turned a bright orange, like a luminous flame, it flickered and burned as we helplessly stared at the ever increasing temperature and the rapid tide. Then all he remembers was alarms and panic, homes were torn away and apart amidst the panic and frenzy, in the blink of an eye, it's been three years since he was recruited into Base no.9, as he made a name of himself amongst wandering travellers as the miracle cook who could conjure up everything edible with anything on the streets.  For as long as he survived wandering, he wondered about is family, his friends, the home they left behind, and if the building had collapsed by now. He wondered and wandered with no answer in sight all throughout his teen years well into adulthood.  Ryota glanced at the grand clock on the wall, r...