If you listen closely – psychedelic adventure. 

Once upon a time, there was a mermaid named Samantha who lived in the deep bed of the Indian Ocean. Laying on a rock of sea crust every day, she used to stare at the merman she loved and gathered up courage to talk to her. Every day, she would encourage herself, every day she would fail. Then one day, along came an old Jellyfish called Vanaessa. This jellyfish was famous in the entire ocean as a witch from the Bay of Bengal, whereupon she learned her dark arts and practiced them. His Majesty King Julian, first of his name, of the Great Whalarian Royal Family, had outlawed Vanessa and there were severe punishments for those who practiced magic in the ocean. Rumour had it, there was a secret society of people who practiced dark arts and they had regular customers. When Samantha saw Vanessa, she wanted to scream, but her vocal cords blocked and she heard a voice resonate within her head. 

“Tell me what you want, child, tell me.” The voice repeated twice.

Samantha felt her paralysis let loose and sighed. 

“My worries are mine and mine alone.” Samantha replied, “you are but a wanted criminal, jelly”

“Alas, my dear. Alas.” Said Vanessa, “Those who do not watch closely, do not see at all.”

With this, Vanessa cast a spell on Samantha and Samantha started to dream. In her dream, she was out with her merman, swimming along unexplored territories in the vast ocean and racing each other on the tides to new places. She felt complete and whole, united with the man she loved. Under the spell of a strong charm in her dream, it all felt so real her blood and bones heated up in excitement. 

The next moment however, Vanessa removed her spell and brought Samantha back to the black stone of silica, far away from her lover, farther from her dreams. 

“There you go child,” Vanessa exclaimed, “you know now what you want the most, just wish for it, and you shall have it”

“No.” Samantha protested, “you’re a criminal. What do you want?”

“Only safe passage, my dear” Vanessa explained, “and in return, I shall grant you your heart’s deepest desire”

“But.” Said Samantha “even if you get us both to love each other, how will I know if he truly wants me or if he’s just under your spell?” 

“My dear” Vanessa begged “let me go. I shall reward you with fortunes unheard of”

But Samantha shouted at the top of her voice and the Shark Knights close by heard her scream for help. They rushed there to help her. Upon seeing the jellyfish witch they all froze in terror, for Vanaessa was transforming into a woman with sharp black teeth and pointy nails on long bony fingers.

“You” she pointed at Samantha “you shall repay for your crime” with this she disappeared in a flash. 

Samantha, however, felt her body start to change. The rock beneath her started folding around her, enclosing her in sheaths and sheaths of white cloth, entrapping her, closing and before it could completely close, she saw her merman glance at her. The next moment, she was surrounded by darkness, inside the belly of a seashell, where she wept and wept, and sang for the love she lost in her life. 

Legend has it, if you place a seashell near your ear, and listen closely, you can hear the heartfelt melodies of her remorse as she continues to shed tears for him in her unbreakable prison. 

Be Grateful; For the one thing that separates us from the ones who are suffering is- Fate.

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I have problems, we all do. If we don’t, we find one, and sometimes we find many.
One doesn’t even have to look very far, it’s the easiest thing in the world!
As if it were not enough to find problems, and mentally disturb yourselves in the process, many of us cling to our problems. Cling to them as if they were the center of the universe and to them it very well might as well be, but just because they might as well be doesn’t necessarily mean they have to be.
But then there are cases, cases that you and I aren’t part of, and gratefully so, where people’s problems are quite literally, what their world revolves around.

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Twice upon a high. 

He saw his friends off and came back to his house, locking the door and walking upstairs. His footsteps echoed in the dark staircase, resonating with guilt and pleasure. Going towards his room he didn’t falter one step, but deep inside his mind danced to the melodies of unheard songs and countless desires. Grinning, he opened the door to his room and stepped inside, laying down on his bed immediately. He was satisfied, it was a satisfying day. Closing his eyes, he thought of happy places and gardens. It was as if he could feel the breeze touching his cheeks, gently lulling him to sleep. His feet were going numb, his hands motionless. At ease, he let go of the worries. Feeling the negativity leave with every second passing. As if a thousand trees shaded him from the scorching heat, as if every corner of the city had streams, filled with sweetness and secrets and sunsets. His mind was free to roam around. But it chose to stay. It chose to stay in the garden of peace and sing the praises of Lord over and over again. 

Once upon a high.

My spine felt heavy with the load of my sins. As if all the dark atrocities I had committed since birth were piled up, one on top of the other, instead of my vertebrae in the back, and the weight of it were crushing my frail nerves. I tried to balance, failed. Tried again, and actually fell down on my knees. The world shifted just a little bit before coming back into view and I rubbed my eyes against the light piercing through them. So bright, was it not night yet?

Taking support from the wall of the bathroom, I got up halfway to a crawling position and stumbled out in the bedroom. The room resonated with vibrant energy which pulsated with my throbbing head. I managed to get to the bed and sprawled my clumsy body on it while I figured what was happening.

As soon as I lay down my neurons went into overdrive. I felt a passing tingle up the middle of my back to reach my skull where it stole away the little sense I had left. My body felt like it was giving off radiating beams of electrons, draining me of my aura. I felt like my spirit was leaving, packing away from the cage of my body that had held it with such possessiveness and yet care. I felt like my spirit did not care, as if its term was over. My brain was slowly going numb, going to sleep, shutting off, but ever so slowly. So slowly I saw each stage of an insomniac’s dream and lived in it wholly before it moved to the next. I willed to slap myself and stay awake, not knowing if I’ll be able to sit up later if I gave in just now.

What was happening.

I breathed in hard. Okay, it was okay. I was just hypoxic, my body was running out of fresh oxygen to breath and so I willed myself to fill my lungs to their proudest most capabilities and exhaled with power. I sat up, repeated this process several times. Fuelling up on oxygen, giving the cells of my body enough gaseous nutrition for cellular respiration. But it didn’t work.

Instead, my chest felt compressed, me eyes stinged and my left arm tickled. It was a satisfying sensation. Only a minute later, I was wondering if I’m enjoying the pain of a heart attack. It wasn’t uncommon in young boys anymore after all. But I trashed the thought as soon as it formed in my mind: this was certainly not pain. This was pleasure beyond any I had experienced before. Each inch of my body was cutaneously ellicitable. Each fragment of my skin was hyper excitatory. This was ecstasy, even if it was dying. Was I dying?

Angina pectorus was a possibility, heart attack that is. So was an epileptic attack, not that I had had any before, but I had family history of epilepsy all the same. Or I could just be fainting. Is this what fainting felt like?

I leaned back on the bed again and eyed the ceiling with caution. What was happening. I wasn’t being paranoid, I just wanted to know, I was curious. Did I have a fever? I definitely felt cold. Why was I not being paranoid if I was actually dying?

But the answer to that was simple enough. I felt relaxed beyond complete anaesthesia. A thousand invisible fairies sang lullabies to me as my descent into an abyss of numbness continued. Upon the music of an unseen orchestra my body spiralled into a deepening euphoria. I kept going down, and down I went, where each step below was another level high. Higher than the skies this galaxy consumed. The stars were all my acquaintances, and they all wished well for me. This was my soul draining away, and it was leaving me so peacefully. No drama, no “give me my gifts back, I hate you, you are such a douche”. No. No judgement either. This was probably what end felt like, and if it was, then did I have a right to complain?

Except I wasn’t dying.

But what was happening then?

I slapped myself.

STAY. ALERT.

FOCUS.

Oxygen. No we already tried oxygen. My tissues didn’t require oxygen quite as bad as I had expected. But then what else do they need? In their greed and race for survival, they were forgetting I could only provide them with so much.

BUT OF COURSE.

SUGAR.

Your tissues require glucose and oxygen for respiration. I glanced up, proud of my discovery and followed my feet into the kitchen. Sugar. I took a bag of chips and a few dozen biscuits with me. Yes. Sugar. Gulping down a full glass of water like a parched land absorbs water, I opened my bag of chips and munched on a few biscuits.

The dizziness went away. Yes. Okay. Everything was fine. I should probably go watch a movie now, I thought to myself and got up.

Two step forwards, one step back. March, march, march, soldier!

Except my legs were fluid, and they gave way below me as I put my weight on them. My brain gave a final shudder, like a low-voltage scream for help, a desperate call to remain connected to my body, wishful thinking to stay switched on. And then consciousness was replaced by darkness.

Moth. 

The sound of the light called to me in its static vibration. Something inside me lurched by instinct, cringed, urged me not move and stay still, but the power of the light was so strong, so moving. It had a magnetic charm, and I was its metal target. It whispered ever so seductively in my ears to come closer and just touch it, just once, or maybe it will let me have it all. The air around me resonated with the pull of the light. It wrapped the room around me in its beauty so wholly, it left no space for dark. Every second, it was precious, every second attainable, and every second treacherous. My heart leaped forward, unable to resist, my mind jammed the breaks, prohibiting every twitch. This internal debate was frying me inside out, and I just wanted to break free and touch the source of this magnificience, to be close, to unite with the force that in its simplest form could be so alluring. It inticed me from its Throne, its unyielding place, enchanting my senses every fleeting moment. My eyes couldn’t look away, I was mesmerised, and all I could hear was the rhythm of its riverberating photons as they collided with the walls and reflected to fill up every corner they could find. 

The light fluttered and so did my muscles. I flew, flew towards the light with as much speed as I could muster, against the protest of my screaming mind, agaisnt every instinct that pulled on my neutrons to stop, and I flew. Inch by inch, I got closer to the light, to make it my reason to live, to touch it, to make it my very own, and by the time I was too close, I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. 

I touched the light. It was merely a second, a heartbeat, the blink of an eye and I thought I had found the secret to eternal happiness. The next moment, I was no more. 

#AtoZChallenge: wayward me: rant. 

No, I do not care if someone is older than me. If they’re doing something wrong to you, you need to speak up. I do, and everyone in my school has termed me a juvenile for that. What utter bullshit. If I speak up to a teacher because the teacher was being rude to me, or unfair, it is considered disrespect and I am expected and told to shut up and listen to the teacher because a, she’s older than me and b, because she can cut my test marks. That pisses me off. I won’t stop speaking up for my rights. If you’re arrogant, then I’ll be arrogant with you. 

And no, I will not do something just because society expects me to do it. Your concept of right and wrong is always going to be different from mine, and your life will be different from mine as well. If you think just because you disapprove of something I do, I’ll stop it, you’re wrong, go home. It’s sad, really, how no one seems to understand this. They keep on wanting to mold my life according to their opinions and if I tell them to back off, they consider me rude and say I’m not a good friend (if only you could see how far back I rolled my eyes at this). So please, keep you opinions with you if you’re told to, no one needs them. 

And no, I will not try to show emotion when I don’t feel emotional about something. Just because your wannabe, superficial, plastic ass needs attention and is covered with a plethora of cry faces and happy faces, doesn’t mean I will confirm with it and give you sympathy. Nor will I tell you if there’s something I’m going through in life. If it’s private, it’s private. You nagging me about it won’t make me accidentally slip it out of my mouth. What could slip out is a curse, a slap, a gun, and possibly a bullet out of that gun. 

And no, I will not believe you don’t suck. Because your probably do. 

Adios.