Sparky Blogs

sometimes i wonder, was the peace and harmony from my childhood home all but a facade? these days there's too much shouting and not enough care

hello. haven't written in a while now, how is everyone doing, hm? :) since i've been headed towards the poetry direction every time i get a spark of inspiration, i was a bit like- then when does this blog get a chance at posting and stuff:< but i've got it. this blog will focus more on personal subjects. in a way, writing about personal stories in poetry destroys its romance and magic. (i think i've talked about this before, somewhere along the line) so yeah!! whenever my grandmother on my mom's side would give offerings to her mother (my great gran), she would always open a can of coke and set it down her table. i think, with the lack of experiences in this kind of religious... processes, i never thought much of it. it probably wouldn't surprise me if you told me back then, that it is a standard procedure for every offering session. or perhaps it was just something my grandmother has plenty of in her cupboard, so she just pulled it out as a sort of drink off...

Heya! It's been so long since I've written on here so I don't even think you guys know this but - I'm in uni! Been a long way, hasn't it. I was just reading my old posts and... jeez, I've grown so much mentally (not so much physically lol), and I lowkey miss just blurting out whatever was bothering me or what I have been contemplating about. I also just miss contemplating in general. Now that I'm in uni and have work and a busier social life than secondary school, I have less and less time to pause and just - think. I hope I can start practising thinking soon. :) Anyway, there is actually something that's been on my mind a lot recently, and is becoming more apparent during this transition into an adult. I've always been one of those kids who need their parents' permission for everything. Everything. And I know, it's a stage where everyone has gone through, but a stage where most uni students have gone out of already. Here are a few possible r...

In a previous post, I mentioned how I find the beauty in poetry is its ambiguity. Lack of clarity. Recently, I came across a lyric that perfectly sums up what I mean. "這樣的問題 只可以是個謎 若你要問到底 把黑夜都摧毀” especially afterwards there's this line “海風吹的你 不真實的你” It's so unreal and unclear that it may as well be a dream. Clarity leaves no room for romance. Sparky x

One thing that has developed throughout my teenage years is the desire for aestheticism. Beauty. Romance. I want to live life romantically. However, this is different to the Aesthetic Movement, because they only care about appearing romantic and disregard the "truth", like when Wilde was in Oxford, he told everybody he didn't study, when realistically he studied secretly in the early hours. This is not what I want. I want the reality to be romantic, so sometimes I might do certain things or not do certain things because it is romantic (in my eyes). Even to the point where I'm not sure if I enjoy doing the thing itself or enjoy the aestheticism it carries. Either way, I enjoy it, so I guess that's what matters. Sparky x

You know the feeling when you're rock climbing, and you're climbing up step by step; you taste a hint of triumph, success, in every step you take, yet when you look below, the drop... makes you heart drop. This is precisely what I feel like right now. It's been oh so long since I've found something I'm relatively good at. In the past few months, I've gotten As; I've gotten so close to A*s ; I've gotten compliments from teachers; I've been referred to as one of the "star pupils"; I've gotten a certificate for performing well in a subject... I've never had these since I was... 10? I mean, sure, my grades have always been relatively good, but I had never been even close to the top bunch. Not until recently. With every hint of triumph I taste, the heavier my footsteps start to become. Mocks are coming up. They're in 2 days actually... Just gotta *not* look below me:D Sparky x

The beauty of poetry to me (which might not be the case for other people) is its ambiguity. I remember vividly when I fantasized an interaction with someone. I wrote it down as like a short story, but I ended up hating the way it turned out. It somehow ruined it. What makes a daydream so special, to me, is its lack of clarity. When you imagine something, you don't think a great deal about every step, everything about the setting, the semi-relevant details of it, etc. Instead, you have these blurry boundaries as sort of a frame. When everything is written down on paper, when every action and reaction is explicitly described, the clarity ruins it. The clarity almost feels harsh. Another way to describe it would be: when you're editing a photo that's supposed to look dreamy, you wouldn't increase the contrast of the photo. You would probably up the exposure, tone down the contrast and saturation. See, that's poetry to me. Sparky x (Don't get me wrong! I do love pro...

I'm currently writing this in a music practise room with my friend playing the violin. Romantic. (Not in a romance way, as in the idea of violin plus writing is romantic) Last night, we had night prayers down in the common room because I'm in a Catholic boarding school. The lady in charge gave us all heart-shaped memos that were neon pink and told us to write something encouraging. She told us to exchange it with anyone in the room who's not like sitting next to us. I drew a little guy on mine with a confident smile and a thumbs up. I scanned the room. Everyone was exchanging their memos. I wanted to say something to the few I've spoken to, ask them if they would like to exchange memos, but they've either already exchanged their memo or were talking to someone else (...or I got too scared to go up to them). So I had no choice but to keep my memo. My friend next to me asked me who I exchanged it with, and I just mumbled, "I didn't." She went "aw...

The world is full of contradictions. I never fully noticed that until I started taking Literature and Media, especially this year. Previously, every time I wrote an argumentative essay back home at school, it was basically forbidden to have contradictions in your essay. We wrote one-sided arguments, maybe included a counter argument but would always respond with a rebuttal to make it persuasive. That was the only type of essay I had written up till September last year. The world of contradictions is a wonderful world. Discovering them and including them in my essays were one of the best things that has happened. This might sound confusing but: a world full of contradictions makes so much more sense than a world without. Everything falls into place. Everything impacts one another and you don't have to explain them. I don't have to avoid points that don't match with my argument now. Contradictions aren't a problem. Contradictions are a solution. Sparky x

Here I am, studying away with my friend in the boarding house common room while a bunch of the other international boarders are singing/shouting to the "classic" songs. (By classic I mean like Taylor Swift songs, fucking.. price tag or something) (Most of these boarders have been here for like 6 years) I've been here for 9 months. One thing I've been contemplating (I contemplate on a lot of things), is why they act the way they act. When I was mentally complaining about their noise just now, I had an epiphany. Well, as international boarders, they've all experienced the period of trying-to-blend-in, and knowing all the words to the "classic" songs would be a good first step to blend in. I've also contemplated on why it's very difficult to blend in with international boarders. (Even harder than day students). Even though we're all in the UK, they're from all over the world. They have their own cultures. It would be easier to blend in with ...

I imagine death  think of my dream so much it feels more like a memory. Last week, if you asked me if I've moved on, I would say "yeah!" I mean, sure I would think about it from time to time, but for the majority of my days, it never comes to mind... Until I had that dream. Of course, upon waking up, I was fully aware of the fantasising and romanticising by my unconsciousness, but... the emotion the dream left me with was like flicking a switch in my brain. The switch is still on and I don't know how to turn it off. The images of that dream have been lingering at the back of my mind for a couple of days already. I think of the scenes so much that I'm certain I must've at some point changed some details of the image on accident. The more I think about it, the less certain I am with the details of the image, but the more deeply affected I am by the emotion .  I try to grasp tightly every remaining droplet of what I remember from the dream until the shapes start ...

There are aliens around me. I don't mean they have slimey bodies with googly eyes, but they communicate very very differently. I struggle to understand their communication. It's interesting how when one says something to the other, the other does not respond to that but instead voice their opinion. Then, the first person repeats what they said previously, and the other does the same. The cycle keeps on going because no one stops and listens to the other. Do these aliens have a less sensitive antenna? Were they communicating in different frequencies? Is that why? Or is this just the way aliens communicate? Sparky x

I have this friend. I've never met anyone like her before, in terms of personality. Well, before I came to the UK, all my friends and I have very similar personalities, and I didn't realise until now. This friend is the most blunt person I've ever ever met. She is funny, but sometimes it feels forced. She's also pissed all the time, which is partly funny but sometimes annoying (to me, at least). She's also a bit show-y off-y, but I don't think she realises. Anyways, she makes a lot of jokes, which some of them are about her and her father's relationship. Her father is one of those rich, workaholic dads who show their love and care through material. She jokes about never being able to see him. She says things like: I don't remember the last time we had a meal together - all three of us. And I just... can't laugh at that. I guess it's her coping mechanism - joke it off. Today, at school, a teacher announced that a student's father had passed aw...

I like shutting myself off sometimes. Just the idea of having to do stuff with people 24/7 makes me sick. Disappearing on social media, giving short responses in real life, saying no to everything, I need to do this sometimes in order to... survive. I know some people don't live like this. They love noise and hype and doing everything together . I just- can't. It's so very tiring to be with these kind of people. Yes, they make fun things fun, but I also get mad at them in secret not because they did something wrong, but because I just don't want to interact with them sometimes. I feel like I've talked about something like that before and am repeating myself, but I just can't stress enough how much this impacts me, especially since... I'm dealing with this every single day now. Sparky x

Here I am, shivering naked and dripping wet as I type this entry because I'm scared it'd leave me again. See, I've been living within boundaries. We all are. Technically, there is no society if there are no boundaries. Boundaries and expectations are essential for a group of people to become a "society", at least in my opinion. There will always be things that are conventional and unconventional; things as simple as murder is bad, or something that's unspoken but still there nonetheless, like what is considered "cool". There are societies within a country, a workplace, a school, basically any place where there are a group of people who have boundaries and expectations. Before I go off in a tangent about my theories or, I guess, rambling, I should probably mention what caused me to contemplate on this topic. Well, I've always been one to get unnecessarily upset about feeling left out (a lot of people do, honestly), and during my school years in my...

Before I came to the UK, I was going on and on about this whole thing not feeling 'real'. And, it still doesn't feel real. Like, I've been away from home for 6 months now?? 6?? How did I do that. I mean, I've always been someone who can adapt to new environments. Physically, I guess. Like, I would get homesick moments, but because I have no choice, I guess I am happy to accept my fate. LMAO. It still doesn't feel real. From seeing my parents daily to not seeing them in 6 months. Even though we still facetime and stuff, it's still... bizarre. Sparky x PS There are a couple of post ideas at the back of my head that maybe possibly perhaps will be written soon. Take care x

i  remember vividly, the day when i came back from school, and my parents' friends were over. i locked myself in my room, turned off all the lights and lay on the cold hard bedroom floor, still in my school uniform. i've had the urge to cry for weeks, yet not a single teardrop was released. i wheezed in silence, afraid someone would find out. i wheezed in attempt to cry, but i could not. i remember watching as the sky dimmed, as the darkness slowly swallowed every trace of light from the hidden sun. time was ticking. my time to myself was running out. i had to leave time to calm myself down, too, before exiting my safe space and returning back to the real world. i hated the feeling. the feeling of wanting to cry, wanting to let out all your emotions with a scream and pouring tears, but unable to, somehow. i call this feeling - internal wailing. i remember this day vividly. it will forever remain as a core memory, of experiencing the most intense internal wailing of my life.

Hey, haven't been on here for ages. One of the reasons might be, since I'm in a relatively uhh vulnerable position emotionally, deep thoughts very easily cause breakdowns... We'll see, maybe I'll start writing more! Right, so, I know for a fact that I struggle to move on. It's even harder to move on from someone when you know that they don't want to move on either. And what that person symbolises - the past, childhood, innocence, my home town, it feels like I'm leaving all these things behind as well. Lately, I've been trying many methods, and one of them I find quite useful. I force myself to view everything objectively, almost detaching myself, and ask myself questions like: How does love exist? How does attraction form? Why specifically one person? We are all just animals at the end of the day. Why does one person affect another emotionally so so much? It's almost like, I'm trying to convince myself, love isn't as significant as I think it...

I miss living in a city with skyscrapers and crowds of people and hundreds of restaurants and traffic lights and busy streets. I miss living in a city. I miss living in a city. Don't get me wrong. Living in the countryside has its own charm, but I miss living in a city. In the past month and a half, I've experienced a lot of things I would never be able to experience in a city, like walking past cows, hiking up a hill that's right next to my dorm, going on the swings whenever, having picnics on grass fields... These are very cool, yes, but what about karaoke parties and midnight skylines and strikes and tuck shops on the side of the streets... I could go on. I miss living in a city. Sparky x