adam & eve

“To wheresover she was, there was Eden”
-Mark Twain

This lonesome line on a singular page  from “The Diaries of Adam & Eve” by Mark Twain literally gave me a reaction of ahhh.. (in the saddest tone) and then, pause. Pause for fraction of minutes. One sentence described it all. That’s how much he loved her and even more. And that’s the gravity of his grief too when she was gone. She was his Eden.

Not only that. On afterword section, I learnt that he wrote this in remembrance of Livy, his wife. Once more, my heart melted. It was actually more than I thought it was.

At the start it was— Eve was naturally loving and affectionate to all creatures and things around her. She knows how to flow her feelings while Adam is the opposite. At the start, all that mattered to him was survival and doesn’t care too much on loving what is around him in the same way as Eve cares. When he sees flowers, then they are just flowers, just like that. No big deal. Eve on the other hand describes them by color and feels them. She delights on everything. She delights discovery, naming things, and putting meaning on them. She feels. She cares. That’s her way of loving them. Adam can feel too, but not like Eve.

Eve made Adam feel what is love, not by teaching him, but by being the feeling itself. By being love. And so Adam set his eyes on her and then everything started. He finally felt what Eve feels. It’s like everything around him has no meaning, and then Eve came. He was changed.

I thought it was just that.

And then that lonesome line on a singular page. And then the afterword section.  To know that it was not just a story, but it is actually inspired from something real like Livy (Olivia Clemens) and Youth (Samuel Clemens) makes it so so beautiful.




The absence is its new presence
I’ll try not to think about it
Now I am thinking about it.

It’s gone.
March forward
It’s the best choice left


Business Letters

I don’t know
But, yeah.
I just noticed,
They are heartless
Too formal
It’s business
Yip. It is how it is
supposed to be
Full of rules.

They are useful
For sure
Full of intent &
Rich in content
The trick is to not forget
To put some serious tone in it
Abstain from cool
You’ll sound like a fool

Lovingly yours,
It displays affection
This is a serious business
You can’t use that
Nor that
Use this instead
Respectfully yours,
Sounds respectable.




“Still he concentrated on his stillness, on becoming inanimate, unthinking matter, on staying alive under that wide expanse of stars-not because their beauty awed him, but to live because he was so horrified of dying violently. And then again, perhaps their beauty did matter after all; perhaps it was enough to live without guarantees, without certainty. Perhaps he wanted to survive this night, not just because he was terrified, but because he would like to share breakfast with his wife again, and to feel the morning dew on his feet as he walked to the club, and to be able to stare across the sixth hole of those volcanoes, so utterly alien from his Missouri home, so astounding-silent giants that sneaked up on him daily, startling him again and again, as if he had no memory from the previous day”

-Sylvia M. Shaw, The Coffin

Those lines are long, and those words remind me of something. I guess it is way far easier for us to get tired or bored of the sameness of the things that surround us each day. For instance–my white study table, the floor I walked on everyday, the door in my room, the places, events, and people that I see each day. The sameness is even more visible and noticeable to me when I think of the world that likes movement and change, of newness and excitement. Even I sometimes dislike hitting replay. Whilst changes and newness are truly fantastic and excellent,  those that are familiar, timeless, classic, those that remain stubbornly the same no matter what, the unsurprisingly daily, the uncomplicated are just earnestly lovely as well.

That singular paragraph reminded me that there is also beauty in the mundanity of daily life. And sometimes we don’t get to notice that the things that we repeat again and again-the shared meals with our family, the plant you water daily, the daily cleaning, the tree that sways with the daily wind, the familiar voice you hear each day, the laughter on shallow reasons, the daily preparation of spoons and forks for every meal, the turning on and off of lights, the opening and closing of windows, the daily conversations, the trivial arguments and all the other excessively, overly familiar, common, unsurprising, unexciting, daily things, people, and events are really precious and beautiful as they are. Yes, just as they are. To feel them in our senses and see them again and again each day like the circling of a circle warms the heart. And probably in seasons of letting go, they are the hardest to forget.

But nothing really stays the same, and the true magic is to feel them while they are present, while they are happening. Some call it the ‘now moments’, the enjoyment in the presence of the now. It’s precious. To be present and just feel the things around you.

Sometimes we forget to sit, be still and just appreciate because of the too many things to think about in this world. I’d like to take time and pause a little and be fond of the eveydayness of a day. To just revel in what is around us as if we have no memory of them. As if they are always new, and as if you are also new.

Always, the impermanence of life never fails to remind me to express appreciation and love to the things, people, and daily events around me that are surely temporary. This story tells me to live as if I have no past, no baggage to carry, like a clean new slate. In that way I would be able to see things always with new eyes even if nothing really has changed. It is like appreciating what is. I feel thankful of my life. And because I know that I am physically temporary, then it is my joy to celebrate this life while I still can. Love yours too.




I bought To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee as a gift to myself on my 20th birthday, and I just finished reading it yesterday, now that I’m 24. I just maybe did not realize that there is a literary treasure just sitting on my bookshelf.

I haven’t had any extensive reading on American literature portraying racism, but the book gave me a glimpse on how life was before. I think it must be harder before than it is now. A story like this one makes me truly feel thankful to those who came before us and who fought a hard fight and gave us a sweeter meaning of freedom.

Racial prejudice is one of the harmful and yet senseless actions any human being can do to another human. To devoid ourselves of the innate human state of love and goodness just because society influences or persuades us to believe on something false must be torture to one’s soul. I know that it must be a much more deeper and textured problem than what I can even comprehend now. But the past left us with a painful reminder on how truly unthinkable and how far we can hurt one another and how senseless our reasons can be.

The author showed me that justice was once one-sided, and it takes maybe one man like Atticus Finch to have a strong conviction on the truth, and challenge the thinking of people whose minds are already tainted by prejudice. I applaud those who rose up and demonstrated that character and truth is not defined by color. That we must treat each other as equals.

The world can be full of evils, but of goodness too. And enjoying the freedom that we have now, I must say love won and it always will. That’s for sure. Because there’s no shortage of the likes of Atticus in this world.

In this lifetime I finally read this beautiful book. A book born from the written words of a person who described both the frailty and strength of the human spirit.




Dear rain,

I like it when you just pour it out
As the blue sky turns into white
And one by one
They just drop and drop
And drop

Like they are so sure
They just know that
They have to move down this time
Fall on earth
And just like that
Ever so sure

They move downwards
Just like that.

Kind regards,