I can smell the crisp winter air

Hero vs. anti-hero

Q: Why does the anti-hero always have a cooler theme soundtrack than the hero? 

A: It’s the movie subconsciously siding with the anti-hero because deep down, we know that the villain isn’t entirely illogical in his pursuit. Maybe the hero and the antihero should work together sometime.

Wait. That’s the entire plot of American Gods.

Crime: what a weird word. Sounds like a choice of dip at first. 

Out of context, but when was the last time you orgasmed? Remind yourself to get one if it’s been too long. I’ve realised when people don’t get laid they make the lives of those around them harder for no reason at all. Go get it. You deserve it.

The previous months I didn’t get to write have made my proverbial pen rusty. I almost convinced myself that maybe I wasn’t born to be a storyteller. When you finally understand that humankind is a parasite leeching off everything it can find and that one day, when mother earth is done dealing with us all, she’ll wipe us all out and that nothing will matter - you sort of stop seeing the point in doing a lot of things - doing anything at all. It’s not that I didn’t already know that - our insignificant presence in this continuously expanding thing of beauty. But it is a bit comforting to know that the troubles in your mundane life shall have no bearing whatsoever and are just temporary whiffs of gutter air passing through.

The plants on my desk seem happy today. My grassleaf baby loves the sunlight, and my snakeleaf baby grew a little leaf in the past week. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a horrible plant mom. I barely change the fertiliser in my plants, and they’ve been long overdue for being re-potted into bigger pots. But every morning I wake up, they bring me an unknown calm - they spread green in my otherwise black and white bedroom [I modelled it into a black and white only bedroom, cus why the hell not]. 

Sometimes you find the coolest things when you least expect them. I started to learn to dance a few months ago, and realised how easily-flowing it was for me. It’s a love language my body didn’t know existed until it looked me in the eye - making me realise that it was an old part of me, deeply ingrained, waiting to be honed, sharpened, spoken - exactly how I feel about writing as I now write this.

In what seems to be another lifetime, some dude told me, “I’m scared that in my absence, nobody will push you. You will forget to challenge yourself. You won’t be who you were born to be - and that scares me”. I feel that we give some people way too much credit than they deserve, you know? 

As human beings, I think you will relate when I say that there is nothing or nobody who pushes us harder to be who we want to be - than ourselves. If you don’t lose touch with the person you’re inside, I don’t think you need lame-ass boyfriends or helicopter parents to remind yourself to push hard. To not give up. If something takes way too much effort to be done, I hope you can find things that don’t. Things that flow freely in your being. Things that light you up, that don’t feel like a chore. I hope that whoever you are and wherever you’re going, you find your light. I hope you realise how strong you truly are and kick out people who are always telling you what to do.

I'll probably be burrowing myself in some thrilling fictional stories before I resurface, but I will continue to tell my stories.

Nothing matters! Cheerio!