What Do Words Really Mean?

This word has been used throughout history in very gruesome and ugly expressions and is forever linked with the battlefield, with its unearthly horrors, and with its countless deaths and cries of unbearable pain. I’m sure that the moment you read that word, you had images of injustice, manslaughter, hate, and conflict swarming in your mind. You had images of World War I and World War II. You had images of The Civil War and from there your mind must have inevitably drifted towards justice and its cruelty. You must have cursed at the Nazis and wanted to change the very foundation on which human souls have been built, thinking every human as a futile source of life, hating the cruelness of all those that had commanded and triggered these horrendous wars that you so earlier thought of. And then, you despair and you start to question why war exists, why everything exists and without knowing it, you have befallen into a crater of bitterness that might take a long, long time to overcome, that is, if you ever do happen to overcome it.
It’s rather unbelievable and intriguing that three letters might have such an impact on our very souls. It’s intriguing, yes, but also very, very scary. If this word is enough to push us in a dark, dark abyss with few ways out, then what power do words have, really? This leads me to one of my many thoughts: Do people realize what powerful force they are dealing with? Do they realize that words have the power to destroy, link, remake and fulfill the grandest of dreams? Is this power often taken for granted? Is it misused? What do words really mean?
Red has a seemingly long history seeing that it is a color and has been used to describe countless things. Red is watermelon, it is apples, it is the blaring, hot sun, and the sandy dunes that purposefully absorb it. Red is the metallic taste of blood leaking from a vein, it is caterpillars making their way with haste towards the tip of a plant, it is also a sign of appalling death. Do you see the link I am trying to create? Do you see how many shapes and sizes, how many variations and poses, a color can take? Do you see what I’m hinting at? Red is but merely three words, the same composition as war, but does it define the same sensation? Does it stand for the same cause? Does it make you feel as if you were something else or does it simply remind you of the things around you… that are red? What is the difference between these two words and their implication in our emotions?
You see, I have said that words are powerful tools that can lift the darkest spirits and unveil the best kept secrets, yet why didn’t red have the same effect that war might have had? What stands between these two small words? It is in fact the human implication in these one-syllable words that change the meaning and that change the very foundation on which these words have been built so long ago, therefore changing the end result that is nestled in your dear heart, making you feel every kind of emotion imaginable. You see, words are mere fabrications of us, the human race. Words would be nothing without souls to write them, to enact them, and to make you feel emotions on the same scale as the ones you felt in the very beginning of this text. It is true that words are powerful sources and can move mountains and sail seas, but is this all possible without someone to mold and guide these stars, and put them into place based on what they want to make people feel? Words ARE very, very powerful things, but not as powerful as the one who holds them. Not as powerful as you, the one reading this text right now, and the one that might someday be a great molder of words, harness its flow just as I have with this text, this mere fabrication that might have triggered something inside of someone, out there in that big world.

With intrigue and hope,


What Do You Think: VERY Short Story

Please, take a moment to read this and comment below. It would mean the world to me and don’t be afraid to criticize because that will undoubtedly benefit the text. I plan on submitting this to a magazine, so please rate it on 10.

A playground. A school. Chaos.

There was once a humongous school towering over the small, queer, abandoned houses surrounding it. Positioned in a corner, looking desolate and morose, it was quit a defunct and old school in which little regularity had been present, but this did not result from the carelessness of those who had run it, but rather from the simple concept of human nature:  that over time the careful, calculated order in which things were set would dissipate and chaos would materialize, reigning over every soul. If anyone ever so happened to find themselves amongst the circumstances in this abominable zoo, they might never return. Thus they would give in to the madness that so long ago ruined the souls that had inhabited this school…

Dried up paint adorning the walls, broken scissors littering the floor, tiny paper clips nestled in unlikely places… Mountains and mountains of chalk piling up to the very rooftops… this was the scene set and not a soul was present, leaving the corridors heavy with unsaid words, broken hearts, bursts of laughter, surprised joy, sharp cries of pain… All around could be heard these echoes from past lives, long ago left behind, the only thing left in the wake of the young children who had once ran and played in these hallways, pretending to be birds, soaring high in the sky…

Outside, a shaded mist carefully seeps amongst the dark, shadows of burst squeaky toys, spurting slow high squeaks every so often. In this playground, hard rain pours over every damaged toy train and truck, over every smashed lunchbox, over every stained Barbie doll. Out there, the sounds are louder, those of broken dreams and horrified shrieks, those of warm laughter and optimistic hopes. All these voices are muddled by their own intensity, shouting uncontrollably like a siren, many sirens all wound up in the same sound, but they still stay confined in that little space, limited by the root-infested walls that contour the playground.

In the midst of this appalling scene, carefully seated with care on the swing set, as delicate as a porcelain doll, lies a little girl, all clad in white, a yellow umbrella at her side. She swings ever so lightly, humming a melodic tune ever so beautifully, filling the noisy playground with a holy grail, shining through the veiled mist. She is the last one, completely unfazed by the destruction around her. From her, life will undoubtedly rise again… love will be reborn, and so will hate, jealousy and hope. Through her, mistakes will be made and precious things lost. Opportunities will be thrown away and countless moments will float up in the sky, forever remembered. And so, even when we are at our worst, she will be there to guide us and when we have been long gone, she will be the thread that weaves us back to life.

Two sweetly-voiced birds find themselves attracted to the swing set, wanting to glimpse that very angel that is releasing the holy sound that floats to their delicate ear buds. They cross the bordering walls decorated with zigzagging plant-like greenery, thus breaking the bond that separates this sad school from the rest of the world and carefully nestle themselves in each other on the swing next to her and together, they join in the song in perfect unison, a gentle hum in the chaos around them.

New Beginnings

Well, I haven’t written lately because of… well, because of rather time-consuming “activities” that my concerned parents have been suggesting me and making me go through. I just kind of wanted to continue my story or I guess start it because I really want to go back to that time when I was happy and I was in love with life: I want to feel love and emotion again and if this blog is what is going to get my to do that then I better start writing. 🙂

So, I said that it all started with the beginning of my school year. I was a heap of panic-stricken emotions, and I was constantly glancing around me, for what I’m not sure. I was a mess and looking back at it now, it feels so meaningless and stupid that I felt so nervous and hopeful at the same time. I walked in that classroom looking like a wet sheep and worse yet, no one noticed because they all looked the same. I glanced around with that panicky demeanor and I spotted my name on a desk up-front. I could feel gratitude washing over me because frankly, I ‘m just that kind of girl that loves to sit in front ( and no, this does not automatically make me a snobby straight-A student, although my notes aren’t half that bad ;).)  That day, I was feeling compressed quite literally because out of the many options my school uniform offered me, I had to choose the pants, IN AUGUST!

Anyway, after having taken my seat, I finally found the littlest bit of courage to look around the room and observe. But, even then, I confined the area of search to my left and right, but thank god that to my right, a girl stood, or rather sat looking nervous and looking as crazy as I must have looked that day. I observed her desk’s components and I soon found out that we had the same pencil, that same shoes (the selection was rather minimal), and she was just someone that I thought I could be myself with. I immediately swarmed to her and we befriended each other pretty quickly. Looking back at it now I wonder what would have happened if she hadn’t been sitting next to me, if I had spotted someone else that day and befriended them instead of her. Would my life be different, would I cherish the people that I love, as much? Would I be happy now, or would I be already lost in the endless void that threatens to engulf me now?

More later, Viki

Everyone says t…

Everyone says that love hurts, but that is not true. Loneliness hurts. Rejection hurts. Losing someone hurts. Saying goodbye hurts. Envy hurts. Everyone gets these things confused with love. But in reality love is the only thing in this world that covers up all the pain and makes someone feel wonderful again.

I keep thinking about them… I should probably give them names, but there are so many that I have had to say goodbye to… I guess I’ll name a few… Yuan,William, and Jaslie. These names mean nothing to you now, but if you keep reading you shall come to understand why I love these people so much and why I can’t stop imagining them walking beside me, making a funny comment or even telling me that I’m being unbearable. It all started, I guess, with the beginning of school… but in fact I didn’t actually meet them until a few days/months later…. I was this bundle of emotions, jumping up and down, feeling so nervous… looking back at that now, it seems kind of pointless, but anyhow, I was ready, I guess, for anything to happen. I still can’t believe that I was lucky enough to be blessed with these beautiful souls. I just love them so much. That’s all for now, because I’m on the verge of tears, but more to follow… or not… I don’t know if I can keep writing because it just hurts a lot. 😦

That was my night… still feeling like a deflated cushion :(, but I guess I am a little better knowing that there are people out there who are actually ready to listen.


The Afternoon

Well, Hi, I just want to start off by saying that this is not an entertaining blog, not a cooking blog, not a party blog… it’s technically not even a blog, although that is what is written in my dashboard and everywhere else around this page. This is actually an outlet… for me… because right now I’m going through my own version of hell. I need somewhere to put all my nostalgic thoughts and what ifs and also a place where others can learn from my mistakes and never feel like I do in this very moment although many do, in fact, feel what I feel right now.

Ugh.. today is day four since I said goodbye to the people that I love most in the world and I never stop thinking about them… I sometimes find myself staring at a dot or at a bench and just staying still, letting my mind wander to those mystical memories of me and them. I replay them in my mind over and over again and it’s like I’m letting go of the person I am now, momentarily stopping my life as if I had a stop button. I am no longer this Viki, I am Viki, two weeks ago or Viki, a month ago. I read sometimes, but that doesn’t help much. I just can’t seem to stop remembering the last day we spent together, me and my friends, the people that made me cry and taught me how to love.

I cry a lot more than I used to and I think that I am slowly surrendering my body to some kind of unknown emotion, threatening to engulf me whole and I don’t know how to stop it. Even now, I feel this sort of blur in everything I say, do, and write. I sometimes find myself wondering why I love people so much when I have to say goodbye to them soon after… I mean, why care, when it hurts so much? I used to ask myself that question over and over again and I’d always have an answer, that life is beautiful and varied and it gives you sweet and sour parts and that the sweet are worth the struggle of the sour, but when I think of it now, I just cry harder… The pictures don’t help either… all these pictures everywhere on my camera of us… they just make me want to jump off a building and get it over with… ugh…the thing I hate the most about love is that I just can’t stop falling and sometimes I’m scared there won’t be anyone there to catch me.

Well, that was my afternoon… ha, I sound like a depressed weasel 😦

Bye for now, Viki