舞蝶之梦

究竟生活是什么？
人是为什么而活？

生死离别，
爱与恨，
活着便会经历。


活的怎样才算圆满？
死了之后，
还有后来吗？

几是年的人生
为何回忆时，
一眨眼便过了？

人来人去
最后剩下的
只是自己与回忆

究竟这是梦呢？
还是真的？
是不是要走完这人生才晓得。。。

Just trying to live

Everyone have a shell.
Everyone have a story.
This is not about being strong.
Or is it about being weak.

This is a story about being human.
We all got scars and secret that we don't want people to know.
The darkest side. The ugliest side.
Everyone is just trying to live.
To find a way out.

Grasping on that tiny sliver of hope
Living from day to day
Trying to find that reason
Just one reason
to stay alive


Fragile - Handle with Care

Made of glass
shattered into pieces
glued together
and broken again

Full of broken glass
Bloody tears
Staining all the glass crimson red

Glass cutting in deep
Settling its roots
Digging into wounds

Unable to breathe
Falling apart
yet no one sees

Just another human
wearing glass armor
trying to survive everyday

Fear

If I be honest with you.

I don't know what to do right now.
I am afraid.
Afraid of not knowing or afraid of the possibilities.
Between these 2 choices, I can only pick one.

Not worrying - scaring myself
Possibilities - also scaring myself

Lastly, being afraid of what is to come.

Life is like that. You can try to plan it out.

The days after.
Months after.
Even years after.

But the possibility of it staying that way?

The further it is, the more highly unlikely it will be.

Change is the only constant thing in people's life.

People say "What will be will be" but sometimes, there is also the human will involved.

Sometimes you make things be that way, only because you choose to ignore the elephant in the room.

Dead person pretending to be alive

This is a story of someone who died today.

Air stopped coming in. The person's chest was too tight.
But somehow, this person could still move and function like a normal person.
Limbs moving out of habit. Eyeballs swiveling within the sockets.
The external world was moving around this dead person.
Bright lights. Brick road. Bright moon.
Other human beings in sight. Carrying on their normal everyday routine.
No one noticed the difference.
Everyone else was functioning. Living.
Living? Living.
This person couldn't breathe.
There was this numbing pain in the chest.
Air couldn't come through.
Was a dead person's face different from an alive person?
No.
The dead person had no idea what to do.
Moving out of habit rather than thought.
Left, right. Look. Turn. Climb up. Go down. Left, right. See.
Somehow dead people can still feel pain?
The dead person was trying to live.
It was so painful.
One second. Another second. One more second.
Each millisecond that the dead person was functioning. It was an achievement.
Anything could happen in a millisecond.
A car accident. Food poisoning. Falling off a building. Dying.
Yup. Dying.
Dying can take a millisecond.
The dead person feels weird. This external shell was operating somehow.
But something wasn't right.
What was it like to be alive?
How does a person live?
Somehow living doesn't come with manual or guideline.
What was the reason to live again?
Was there such a thing?
Somehow this dead person can still differentiate the different types and brand of milk.
Acting alive is so easy.
Just need to move and do normal people behaviour.
Scan and pay for the milk. Then pack it and move out.
Nothing feels real though.
To that dead person, it was weird. So very weird.
Meeting other alive people. Doing alive human things. Acting alive.
There was that bright moon in the night sky again.
Eye catching.
Chest still tight though. Can't breathe.
The dead person wanted to be sealed in their own bubble of reality.
A bubble safe, hidden and protected from others.
This dead person wanted to just stay there. Looking at the moon.
Numb. Pain. Can't breathe.
Something creepier and scarier forced the dead person into motion though.
Fear.
The dead person couldn't struggle.
Whimpering and cowering in fear.
Fear drag the dead person towards pain, sadness and misery.
The dead person wanted to freeze at that spot.
The dead person was so so so scared.
The dead person wanted to live.
But it was easier to be dead than to be alive.
One step. Another step.
There was another bright light.
A scary bright light. Very very very bright light.
One step got spilt into tiny steps.
The dead person's heart was frozen.
Chest tight.
Throat blocked.
Limbs clammy.
Fear locking the dead person's arms and legs.
Freezing motion yet dragging the dead person forward.
If pretending to be alive was a feat.
Now walking towards that bright light was pushing the dead person beyond dead.
Living dead. A new category of dead.
Not plain dead. Half dead. Dying. But living dead.
Living. Dying. Every single second.
Feet scuffling now. Literally dragging towards and also further away from the light.
As the light get nearer and nearer.
The dead person was wondering,
"What was the purpose of being alive again?"