From The Quill

The rain reminds me of letting go. There is something beautiful yet melancholy about letting go. Cleaning your room often feels like therapy. But it also takes you down nostalgia lanes to places you may not want to visit. Like that pair of earrings someone once gifted me. We don't talk anymore. I have no idea what she is doing. The colour of the earrings has faded, just as our friendship has. That one pendant I wore to a memorable date once. The stones have come off, yet a part of me wanted to keep that as a memory of a person who never was anything. Just because I had a good day. I discarded that with longing. I know now that every time I open my jewellery box and do not see it, perhaps I will not remember that day anymore, and I am okay with it. Then come the most precious possessions. Scrapbooks, handwritten letters, artwork. People you never met often leave a mark on your life. You keep things to remember them by. There is no harm in holding on to attachments. But I realised we...

Sometimes there are days you feel like not getting out of bed, not being productive and staring at the empty Google Doc document with the cursor blinking for hours. Even if the words come, they are forced and not flowing, and backspaces do most of the job. Shutting off the laptop, going for a motivational walk, having a coffee to wake your brain up or even watching something doesn't help. But why are unproductive days not normalised? We are humans, not machines. There are days I sleep four hours and write so much that I forget my lunch time, and there are days I feel like doing nothing. Then why do I feel guilty about the unproductive days? Like I "wasted" a day rather than taking time off. Especially if I am writing a story nowadays, I usually write one chapter and go through the previous few per day. That way, the draft and correction go hand in hand, and I know if the chapters are syncing. But on days I can't write or I feel the plot or sentences are off-putting be...

They say when something ends, something else starts. Usually, it's better than what ended. But nobody tells you that between an end and a beginning, there is a period of void. Uncertainty and self-doubt exist and often drown you in darkness. Don't let the void consume you. It is the blank page between two chapters of life. A time of self-discovery and rest before you embark on another adventure in life. © Suranya