the jelly phase

Currently, I am in a weird stage of my life, which I randomly name 'the jelly phase'. And in this particular phase, I am feeling time go by and I see more clearly than ever the changes it brings.

There is a thunderstorm building up outside my apartment (which I have just diligently scrubbed and rearranged into its past state of untouched vacancy). When the downpour started, I hopped onto my bed and stretched my arms out of the small creak on the window. Then my eyes studied the vicinity, trying to take in everything and memorise it - the low brick houses, ornate verandahs, silver roofs. I watched a woman in black tank top cooking an egg, the warm lights in her kitchen colouring her skin with this vibrant orange-yellow. Another neighbour appeared, a hippie-looking man with long dreadlocks and a red bike strapped onto his back. He didn't seem to mind (or notice) the rain in the least bit.

Most of the time though, I watched the bird perched on the electric pole.


I'm uneven, unbalanced, shedding, drying, doubting, and thrown into a peaceful yet threatening empty space. Its emptiness has made all sorts of evil seep out from the depth of my very being and stain the space with its dark, brooding colour. Anyone who steps on this space gets infected by this toxic. Soon I can no longer trust anyone here. I am better off by myself. Yet I don't want to be. I am wishing for more and more strength to help me go through the jelly phase.