A Big Mess, A Small Achievement


If you listen to yourself, you will stand tall before the wind. If you don’t, your will won’t bend for bread but the PEN.

The Pen.

A Purple Diary, A Golden Pen

Thinking back, the past three weeks were somewhat dramatic.

Two weeks ago, apart from drawing, I have been rewriting, based on the old writing, on and off, not so good and seemed almost stuck there.

The week before last, everything seemed a big mess but fun. –

On Monday, I met a good friend (E) and another old friend (D) joined us. I shared a wonderful dream with D first. In the dream, D was a super hero who killed the bad guys. We then talked about all sorts of things, many naughty topics and I shared another dirty dream. We laughed, toasted, blushed and shared more life. That night, something sleeping long and deep inside me suddenly awoke. As a result, I masturbated like crazy.

On Tuesday, I listened to myself as I listened to Yesterday Once More. Except eating and sleeping, I did walking, wondering, thinking, drawing, missing some friends and masturbating.

On Wednesday, I listened to myself as I listened to Big Big World. I forgot eating until the evening. I lost some sleep in the night but I overslept in the morning. I went out facing the wind, walking further and further, wondering about more things, missing fewer friends, thinking harder, and masturbating more.

On Thursday, I listened to myself as I listened to the leaves falling. I had lost the sense of time completely. I felt as if time stayed  still and I was the only subject moving beyond time. Again, without feeling hungry almost all day, I did drawings, walking with the leaves dancing on my feet and before my eyes, missing only one friend, wondering only one thing, thinking even harder, masturbating like the body was not mine, seeing and fearing a deep hole swallowing my soul. 

On Friday, I couldn’t listen to myself, partly my body seemed to be worn out and partly my mind was burning like hell. Instead, I went out only for food and came back home straight afterwards. Then I watched a movie, The Foxcatcher. I was into the heavy images with my heart hanging in the dark, so intense. The end of the movie was shocking. Meanwhile, Black Swan was awoken naturally. I then wanted to get drunk by the evening, which I did, but not as drunk as I had expected. Though I did get more drunk when arriving at home by myself. It was like a torture being half drunk half awake. With no choice, I played with my toy Rabbit till I fell asleep.

On Saturday, by the late morning, I woke up with the toy still in my hand and hungover. The whole day, I was like a zombie or a fly without a head. Yet there was a decision being made after dinner. That I must stop this and write on.

On Sunday, consciously I was back to usual writing habit after a light breakfast. It seemed as if I was enlightened. My mind was unusually clear. I divided the old writings into several different chapters. Then I made them all blank. Soon, my imagination seemed to grow wings and I seemed to fly freely.

So for the last week,  I wrote nonstop about 3000 to 4500 words each day and finished rewriting the whole bit by the midnight on Saturday. Now the last edit will be reading the whole fucking book, I felt relieved. But it was never enough as the work will never done till the happy ending.

7 thoughts on “A Big Mess, A Small Achievement

      • narble says:

        True. It is difficult to watch yourself, sometimes, but I think it is important to be able to watch yourself without judgement. It is good to learn compassion for yourself and that can be hard.

        Liked by 1 person

      • Heather Cai says:

        You’ve got a great point here, Narble! I thank you for that!! Personally, sometimes I am not sure if watching oneself is the same as finding out what your soul is and where your soul heading to. I think everyone must have a mirror deep inside. Just sometimes we forget to look in the mirror. Maybe being lonely or alone is the best time to watch oneself clearly.

        Liked by 1 person

      • narble says:

        I think matters of the soul are in the quiet of your heart. It is a thing we don’t have words for and maybe that is why we write–to try and find them. But the moment of that isn’t a conversation, it’s a feeling.

        Liked by 1 person

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