Hwrites

Got too much on my mind and nobody here really gets it so it's here.

fuck you and your money

I wanna write without giving a fuck about grammar I wanna use wordplay that doesn't make sense to the stupid ones I wanna write and post without seeking approval. But perhaps, some validation.

I wanna write as if I'm freeing every part of myself As if I'm reborn and i see everything with a pair of new eyes

But I'm stuck in a cabin With colleagues that are as great as the copies I write With a salary that lets me shop and eat well With people around me that are passive aggressive And I feel like a clueless dice Rolled around with flick of a hand That has no idea about the way it affects the dice.

I wanna post about things i see all around everyday I wanna write about things that ignite me The fire so bright and blazing that it doesn't let me sleep Until i put it out with a paper Full of my writings

I'm so sad I wish I were not 21.

I'm so anxious I wish I didn't have a job

I'm so stupid For someone with a job in writing

I'm so clueless For a girl in marketing

Selling lies with her words

That costs her sleep and a blind eye Towards all the shit the world is going through now

I think it's happening again Staring at the sky until my eyes sting Sitting on the terrace until I catch a cold.

Hair tangled all over my face I didn't mean for this to happen. But they keep pushing me here I do not want to be here The mountains blackened Clouds chasing each other Sun set so low I can't catch a peak

I should leave soon But there's blood everywhere Too scared and too mesmerised to leave I want to set my heart on fire. Let it unlearn all this hatred And build a new heart from the things I learnt from you Adorn it with Spanish Jasmine.

Call for my friend and hang the fairy lights around it, books stack up high with walls around us. Maybe a cup of tea, for me and coffee for you. We'll sit and discuss to include more decoratives We'll make it so pretty that it will look Like it never was once bruised and battered.

But I can't do that yet I need space This house, with a huge hall. I don't have space here Not to breathe Not to cry Not to be.

I keep dreaming of that house I lived in. It looked ugly on the outside, it being a company-provided house, a hideous shade of blue painted on it. There was a huge mango tree right by our front yard, giving us one of the sweetest mangoes I've ever tasted in my entire life. I still chase that taste whenever I try mangoes now. Everything was sweeter when I was eight and unaware.

I remember that one particular shelf in the house. Small spaces stacked upon each other. We used to dump all our clothes there. We didn't have much space to keep our clothes. Everything felt too small. Like we had too much baggage brought along with us when we moved. There were always a bunch of things scattered on our floor. At night, when we all huddled up in a room to sleep, there wasn't much space for six people. Our feet always grazed the wall across. Small windows, newspaper stuck all over it. The orange street light still managed to seep into our bedroom. I used to stare at it until I fell asleep, not being able to turn this or that side because my sisters would be sleeping right beside me.

Houses like that weren't made for six people to live in. But my happiest times were when I lived there. So beautiful that in my dreams, I yearn to go back to that house. Now in my early 20s, I dream of the house so often that it keeps attaching the people I know to it. I'd dream of them coming to the house, a home to be honest. And they'd all sit next to me and ask questions about the shelves that always looked like they were spilling out of clothes. I'd become 8 again, introducing them to my shelf in my dream because I loved that I had something of my own.

I'd wake up and feel horrible and heavy. I wouldn't want to move my limbs. The dreams linger in the back of my mind. I'd quietly wipe my tears away and I wouldn't even realize that I was crying. Mother would yell at me to get a move on and I'd stare at my red and puffy eyes while I brush my teeth and wish I could go back in time.

The thing is we've moved three houses. But A405 will always be a home. As I got older I realized that the bigger your house, the smaller you'll feel. The more rooms, the lonelier you feel.

I watched Moonlight Chicken, a Thai BL months ago and I've always wanted to write about the characters in the series but I guess I was too scared that I wouldn't be able to find the right and perfect words to describe so I never wrote. But here's a little attempt on finding them. These are mostly the little details i loved watching in the series.

When they're out and about at night without telling their parents & uncle. Li Ming teaches heart how to ride a motorcycle and he says I haven't felt like this in a long time. Heart and Li Ming are leaning on a rail. Li Ming comes closer. He smiles at Heart and they bump shoulders. Their legs brush.

They were lying on a bed before that and their legs brushed again. They're almost cuddling. But they're just friends.

Heart is mad that his parents aren't learning sign language for him even though it's been three years since he's gone deaf. He and his parents have a huge fight. He storms upstairs and Li Ming follows him. Heart is sobbing so badly that his entire face is wet. Li Ming hesitantly touches his knee. Heart leans his head on his shoulder, shuddering helplessly because I think he realizes for the first time how alone he's been in his life before Li Ming came into it. Li Ming says nothing. He hugs Heart. He just stays with him. Quietly. That's the intimacy I've always wanted in my life.

Later in episode 6, Li Ming brings Heart into his house. He takes it all in and looks at everything curiously as if to say “So this is his home”. He tries to talk for the first time when he sees their cat, Jimbo , I think. He says his name aloud and it comes out all scratchy. But Li Ming is beyond the moon. He stutters for a second and Heart watches amusingly. He's persuaded to talk again and he does again. Li Ming is giddy and hugs him and lifts him off the ground and Heart just keeps staring at him.

Li Ming includes Heart in most conversations by using sign language and talking simultaneously. He orders two Boba tea when he goes grocery shopping with his uncle and visits Heart. They both smile and drink tea while texting each other while sitting next to each other. Sometimes they do that even though they both know sign language.

On New Year’s, Li Ming does the countdown in sign language, screaming along with the numbers. They welcome the new year by holding hands and being each other's first kiss

June, 2022.

Dear L,

People remember when they meet other people that ignite them. I've read books and watched movies where they exactly know when and what happened where they meet the person that they know was going to change their life. And here I am. Not having any first clue as to when I met you the first time. But I do remember the times you ignited me. You absolutely lit me on fire that keeps burning even after months I've known you and it just won't let me sleep. You complimented me about my dress. You said I looked beautiful. Thrice. Three fucking times. Such words could bring anyone down on their knees. Who am I to rebuke those words when you said them with the brown in your eyes blinding my black ones. It started then. Hasn't stopped still. Sometimes it does go away but it always finds a way to come back. I wish I could bury it deep inside and never see your eyes when I close mine. But I can't because it has become that thing that holds me tight and keeps my feet on the ground strong. You've easily become one of my people who keep me sane. I don't allow a lot of people to do that to myself.

So my friend says i should make a move. And i know I'd be terrible at it. I just wanna say hey I'm gay for you. Are you gay for me? Maybe not those words because I don't want to startle you. I'd start by telling you who i am. I'd ask you who you are but I'm afraid we won't get to that because I just want all the words off my chest. I've held it for too long. I've been a coward for a longer time than I'd like me to be. So I'd tell you things i always wanted to. I'd tell you things that I think about while i take a walk in the moonlit street and I'd tell you it's you. I'd tell you the things that absolutely won't let me sleep at 2am and I'd tell you it's you. I'd tell you I'm reminded of you when I listen to all the songs nowadays instead of a faceless person and I'd tell you i remember you while listening to avalum nanum and I'd tell you it's you and me i think about everyday and I'd tell you about Elio and Oliver because they are us. We are them. I'd tell you how Elio wondered if it's better to speak or to die.

I'd tell you i spoke. But i wish to die.

Yearning for you H.