introspeck, or me, in general

Reading Murakami, listening to slow jazz, and just sitting down thinking about nothing in general has given me the idea and sort of a motivation to write this.

Not that it will mean anything special. It’s just one of those posts that are necessary to write to relieve something off my chest and make me feel like I fulfilled something, not neccesarily techincally excellent and an emotional journey.

It’s a .. meaningful blank. Now all I need is some coffee or any hot drink to suit the atmosphere in the surroundings, and in my head.

Now, who am I?

Who governs this brain and mind that spurts sarcastic phrases and heavily critical words every now and then, but never discounts personal time for thinking.

And thinking .. thinking about anything or nothing at all.

A clear river of thought. Just water flowing through, crystal clear water, with no complications, and with no notion on it’s destination.

Unsharpened, yet pure.

Perhaps I should just do this in a simplistic, straightforward manner.


I’m a male. Not that I would consider myself a 100% archetypal male. I don’t engage heavily in sports or games. I don’t find following boys around fooling around and having fun the best way I could spend my time. Not that I dislike it, but I’d rather spend it walking around alone soaking the environment in.

I like to read. And more. I like ‘loitering’ and just chilling out in cosy and welcoming bookshops. I read Murakami. I prefer slower paced books, books that take their time explaining and feeling. I like books where plot is supplementary and prose is primary.

I like classics, some popular books and am now trying to venture into the unknown sections. Books no one’s heard of. Almost no one. Thanks to BooksActually.

Books have heavily influenced me to like jazz. Not a hard hitting and all out jazz fan, but a few songs here and there just to chill out.

My music taste spans multifarious genres. Not that it matters. As long as it’s good, it’s all that matters.

I write. Fiction, non-fiction, self discovery, reflection, introspection, anything, that suits how I feel.

Trying to mould my life around writing. Short quotes, story ideas, observations. Trying to.

Trying to maintain and upkeep 3 notebooks at once. One for the planning, one for the calendars, and one for the writing.

It’d be absolutely great if my life became like that.

I’m trying to revolve my life around books, bookshops, writing and observing.

I need to find time to read. Having In Search of Lost Time and The Brothers Karamazov is not exactly easy.

Aesthetics are extremely pleasing. Once I grow older and have the money and personal freedom, I feel like designing my home and practically everything I’d own.

Science is a pragmatic dream. The Arts is a hopeful and happiness inducing dream. Part-time maybe?

Am trying to structure and organise my life as well. With literal boxes. I’ve been buying a lot of boxes as well.

I observe strangers a lot. I perhaps fall in love with them. Fleetingly or infatuatingly. People who smile at others in public and people who are willing to help, people who are willing to initiate conversations with me are the best kind of people.

Oh heck, I definitely fall in love with certain strangers.

I’m in love with several strangers, and friends and places and things.

I treasure my friends, I really do.

And I love my friends. And some I love more.

I used to like Natalie. In the infatuation way. Now I, in some sort of way, like her, but in a more mature way than before. We don’t talk much now. But when we do, it’s sufficient friendly. We’re still friends. That’s important. Subtle but important.

Ron is a strange but good friend. He really is. Strange, wacky and idiotic at times, but he cares and he understands. He’s a good guy. Now care for yourself more, huh? You deserve it.

Meg-Mel is strange in her own way. But when she cares, she really cares. And I truly believe our friendship is rare in it’s own way. And definitely worth keeping. Not really showing it, but it’s strong. Despite the pitfalls and inconsistencies, yes I love her.

I just connected back with Wen Hui a few months back. She understands me and is there for me the most. Definitely. I don’t think anyone that overtake her in that sense. She may be a bit old fashioned and superficially childish at times. But she is still a wonderful person. And she could be beautiful, if she tried. Not that it strongly matters.

Yong Han. I don’t even have a word to describe him. He listens, cares, understands and never discounts a sarcastic remark at the end of it. Fantastic. I think he has some personal problems of his own. But I guess that he doesn’t want me to know. He’s alright with this. He’s happy with what he has. He’s chill.

My mom just told me that in exactly 5 months, I’ll be 16.

Not that it matters. It’s just a number. Age is something that changes at whatever rate it wants to. Numbers are inconsequential, what matters is how the inside grows.

And, with all my shortcomings, I think I’ve grown fine.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.