I have no internet, and I must not scream

I have no internet, and I must not scream

It has been a few hours, and I am keenly aware of the chirping of the birds, the gobbling noise of the motorcycles, and the inexplicable fact that there are other people in my house.

It all began simply, and complicated everything along the way. The WiFi was connected (I would love it to be faster, but who wouldn’t), and then there was a storm. It was nothing original. Grey skies and white flashes, and a lazy growl a couple seconds later.

But after all of it was over, the internet was gone. It was still there, its physical form was still there, but its virtual soul was nowhere to be found. It was quiet. A storm before the calm. However, it wasn’t calm. It was like I was constricted.

I didn’t have anymore information to look up to. A stupid cock crowed over and over in some house in the neighborhood. It was mid-day, and yet it was still not letting up. Cocks were only supposed to crow in the mornings, or what cartoons taught me. They also taught me if the cock does not crow, the sun won’t come up. Maybe I should look this up — oh… I can’t. There’s no internet.

It was a situation which didn’t occur most often. It was like finding a strange wound on your person, and calmly going “I have cancer!” It was like the same but there was no conclusion to jump to.

It was feeling of lethargy, like a colorful world becoming dull. But there was a rational part in my mind, strangely enough, and it was saying, “The color wasn’t real. It was an illusion, it was an psychedelic addiction. You are free now. Go out and look at the world!”

I nodded. This part of my mind seemed to be wise. And indeed I looked at the world, from three paces out the window. It was dull and grey. Of course, the rain had stopped, but the clouds were still there.

Well, I thought, going away from the frame Was fun. Life, and roads, and buildings.

It was a fascinating world. I wanted to visit it someday, when I could afford multiple plane rides which I never will.

The internet was still not there. It had a good five minutes now. It would take forever. But now, I gathered I was thirsty and I wanted to go to the bathroom. What strange needs this mortal form requires. It never did such to such an extent.


Any moment…

~Raindrops keep falling on my head~

~As the fiddle played a twiddle, and the moon slept still sterrinday!~

~So bye, bye, Miss American Pie, drove my Chevy to the levy — ~

~Come together one and all, in the giving spirit~

The thirst was killing me now. It felt like a shriveled intestine my throat. Sixty six songs were not a bad start. But, now I couldn’t sing another one. What now? There was a commotion outside.

“Thief! Thief! He stole my phone!”

What a horrible deed to occur, what an exciting thing to happen. Everyone else seemed to be having a bast.

“Catch him! I have got everything on my phone.”

Fun requires risk, of course. I wonder if I would ever be brave enough to have my phone stolen. It could be a lifesaver.

“My life is ruined!”

I closed the window. Dust was always an intruder. I decided to get a glass of water. The kitchen was close. I had the vague recollection of visiting it — -every night. I didn’t know what I was doing there, except I moved my mouth too much for a normal day.

After having my thirst quenched, I tried to do something else. I balanced myself on one foot. Easy enough. Raising the sole to my standing knee, I tried to bring my hands up. I did perfectly. I was very much sure of the hardness of the floor. It was tough. I picked myself up.

Then, I found out: I was okay.

It wasn’t bad.

Was it good before when it was there?

Maybe? It felt the same.

It seemed I could do something ‘else’. Something better in a sense.

Hey, what about a humorous blog post?


Feelings about Leaf by Niggle

Feelings about Leaf by Niggle

Leaf by Niggle is one of the most poignant stories I have ever read. I can attest it to the fact the author, J. R. R. Tolkien, is well-read and has great academic credibility, but it would be wrong in a sense. Certainly, his background in languages and his love for stories did play a role in the making of the narrative, but the truth and sadness found in it could hardly be conjured by those means alone.

Leaf by Niggle is about Niggle, a painter. He wants to paint a beautiful tree he has in his mind. He has the canvas, the wood, the paints. But what he does not have is time. He works slowly, methodically, and has himself painting on a single leaf over and over, trying to perfect it.

Niggle is constantly distracted by his life like we all are. We want to pursue our creative talents just like Niggle does, but we have our responsibilities. Niggle struggles with his responsibilities and his creative callings, and every day he wonders if his vision would ever come to fruition.

The story has something for everybody, even non-artistic people. It tells of a tale of a man who wants to do what he wants but he does not go back on his responsibilities associated with the life he is living. For such a short story, it says more in those simple words what many books run around in a loop.

Anybody should Leaf by Niggle, I say. It is indeed filled with great merit.

A Rumination on Flowey and Monika and the true horror of Doki Doki Literature Club

A Rumination on Flowey and Monika and the true horror of Doki Doki Literature Club

When I first played Doki Doki Literature Club, it was due to the strange buzz it had created everywhere around the internet. I googled it and found it was a visual novel which was free. Seeing that I had nothing better to do (I needed to write the next chapter of my story), and the behalf of my steam account gathering virtual moss, I downloaded it and played it.

It was quite good. A very well made game for a free price and I could understand why it was getting so much praise from everywhere. But I couldn’t feel the same amount of admiration as others did, cause while Doki Doki Literature Club was being praised for its game-breaking and fourth wall breaking mechanics, I could only think:

Undertale had done it better.

The thing is while it is my subjective opinion, most of you guys (considering you have played Undertale) agree with me. Undertale was far ahead of what DDLC did. When people were saying Undertale would be the game RPGs would be measuring themselves against, that was the same for the fourth-wall breaking ones.

Continue reading “A Rumination on Flowey and Monika and the true horror of Doki Doki Literature Club”


There are many times I am asked why? And I answer why not?

Now, it is a kind of a witty reply, but at the same time, it could be taken for unintelligence and dishonesty. Well, it is not dishonest, but I am uncertain about the intelligence behind it. Why? Cause I find it meaningful. When I am not doing it, I am thinking of it. When I am doing it, I am struggling miserably.

Struggling miserably cannot be taken as a failure. It can be taken as foolishness, but certainly not a failure. For God’s sake, I can ask you the same thing. Why are you still living? Look at yourself, you are struggling, your hard work is not being appreciated. You are growing old, and weaker and less formidable each day. Why are you still going?
Here you will give me a shrug, cause you don’t know. That will be dishonest. You will then give me a witty answer. That can be unintelligent. Now, you will say because you don’t want to die.

You are afraid to die. Why?

Cause you want meaning.


Regarding the new Middle-Earth TV series and any more which may follow

I don’t want a new TV series. I think the books and the movies are enough. I know I am not alone in this regard. There are many people who feel the same. But there are people who want this new series and I cannot blame them. I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to watch the Hobbits, the Elves, or the Dwarfs. To hear the music, see the places–I do want to so much.

But one thing reading Lord of The Rings taught me was with time, everything grand and magical starts to fade and the world moves on–the old picture remains a memory. It reminds me of the quote I came across C.S. Lewis (Letters to Malcolm).

And the joke, or tragedy, of it all is that these golden moments in the past, which are so tormenting if we erect them into a norm, are entirely nourishing, wholesome, and enchanting if we are content to accept them for what they are, for memories. Properly bedded down in a past which we do not miserably try to conjure back, they will send up exquisite growths. Leave the bulbs alone, and the new flowers will come up. Grub them up and hope, by fondling and sniffing, to get last year’s blooms, and you will get nothing. “Unless a seed die…”

How greatly this quote mirrored the current situation of this epic. It might even be the cynic inside of me talking; trying to dispell any sort of achievement which might be found in the new series, but this cynicism comes from a place of love and genuine concern. That is what I wanted to say. Here it lies.

The Crippled Credibility of Kirkus Reviews

The Crippled Credibility of Kirkus Reviews

All the world’s one great stage
And all the greats have left the stage

This is what I always say to myself when I see some stupidity or complete lack of moral integrity in the world. But, today is a little different for this stupidity comes from a review site, Kirkus Reviews, since 1933. Kirkus Reviews may have been great in the past, but it is now a very cowardly place and if not cowardly, unprofessional.

A little bit of context first. There is a YA book called American Hearts by Laura Moriarty which is under fire recently. The kicker is not even out yet. All these ‘complaints’ come from a group of the YA readers community called Culture Cops. If you ask me, that is an apt name for how redundant it sounds. Continue reading “The Crippled Credibility of Kirkus Reviews”