I caught a glimpse of a fairy once, and now she had appeared before me. So tiny, oh, so fragile. Her light was blue, like, neon blue. I tried to catch her with my hand multiple times, but to no avail. She flew fast, yet so elegantly. Leaving trails of blue, she created a small sanctuary of light in the middle of the darkness. Her wings made no noise, and everything was mute, until she sang me a beautiful song that only I could hear. It was the song of the night, a song that tells a story of a king who was so corrupted he could barely prevent himself from destroying the whole kingdom. The melody of the song was a stream of scattered feathers, emotionally attached to the ruins the king had left behind. She sang note by note in a really beautiful yet heart-breaking voice.

For the curious ones, here’s the story.

The kingdom was a very peaceful place. Children were free to roam every corner and alleyway without fear of thieves, every family had their own house and a big farming field, festivals were held three times a year, and crime was a rare thing. It was the time of happiness, and also of progress. Discoveries and inventions were made, the minds of many creatures were developing, and changes were shown little by little. All was under the rule of the great king.

The blue fairy thought the king was someone so strong, so wise, so brave and selfless that no other creature had not even a single power to stand equally next to him. She believed the king was the one who would bring this world for the better. She trusted him, loved him so very much. But she was wrong. The king was only a weak clown who wore a very thick mask. He couldn’t see beyond his own pleasures. Soon she saw his true nature. Without anyone seeing, the king turned into someone else. This stranger who resided in the king’s body bathed in people’s praises, and he swallowed wine like he was living in heaven. And once a very beautiful, yet poisonous butterfly caught him without his mask, he became completely out of control.

And here I’m telling you, that this wasn’t a story of good that defeats evil, that this wasn’t your classic happy ending fairy tale. This was the real deal. This was a story of bloodshed, betrayal, and misery. And this blue fairy had seen them all, felt them all.

Oh how shocked the blue fairy was, when she realized who the evil butterfly was. She was her sister, her very own identical twin. Her wings were the same blue, her light was almost the same blue. She was her messed up counterpart.

And then here comes the love and secret affair part. The king fell in love with the evil fairy, betrayed the good fairy, but the evil fairy had another intention she had in mind, and then she used the king to her own advantage, the good fairy tried to stop her sister, bla bla bla… you know this part often ends up in the loss of the good character’s power and the victory of the evil enemy. But you also know this part never gets to be the ending of a story.

The blue fairy then gathered all the creatures in the whole kingdom, talked them through the whole thing, and lead them to rescue the king. She also got help from the king’s son. Then they all travelled far from their home, fought their way through a burning hot desert, the woods covered in thick fog, and battled big storms in the middle of the ocean.

Weeks later, they arrived in the peak of a mountain, where giants guarded the gate leading into the evil fairy’s nest. Of course, they fought the giants. They had come all the way not to surrender or walk their feet home without at least knowing the king was alive. The giants were strong, they killed many. But the ones who survived the giants’ punches continued their way.

When the huge doors were opened, the king was standing right there, behind the door, holding a sword. He said he was waiting for them. The evil fairy appeared next to him, out of thin air. She sent everyone to sleep, except the good fairy. She wanted her to watch, to witness the death of the people she cared about. And she did. She was powerless, weak, and scared. The king’s sword was the weapon of mass murder, creating crimson flood.

Dead bodies everywhere. Now that her plan was accomplished, the evil fairy stole the king’s soul and made his body into an accessory. His soul was tossed into another realm, forever trapped in nothingness, without the touch of time. He was neither dead nor alive.

But the good fairy refused to let him go. She would never give up on him, no matter how cruel and heartless of a person he had become. And so her search for the king went on. Hundreds of years had passed, and in this garden she met me.

The song still continued. My mind was drifting through images foreign to my memories. They were the blue fairy’s memories. They were painful, very painful. She had stepped through ages, seen enough destruction and sadness, been through many things a thousand times. But she was still fuelled by her love for the king, still not letting herself to want to let the feeling fly away. She was still searching, peeking through doors and windows, always in the hope of finding a clue. It was her mission from the moment they were separated, and it still was, and will always be.

While the whole world changed countless times, she stayed the same. Her light was still as bright as the way it was, and so was her heart. She greeted the sun every morning, a way she was taught by her mother to wake her hopes up each day, and she still did it. She sang her story to innocent kids who stayed up later in a beautiful garden. She wanted someone to know, and kids are the only ones who could see and hear her. Adults had lost this capability. I was one of them, one of the kids who encountered her.

Fifteen years later, I still remembered the song. I remembered her voice, her neon blue light, and the trails it made. But when I got to the garden, the only creature I saw was a blue butterfly, alive but didn’t emit any light. This thing flew all over my head, but it didn’t sing, didn’t even let its voice be heard. It was just… a butterfly. Maybe the song was a song I’ve heard from somewhere. Maybe the blue fairy was only my childhood fantasy.

But then again, I changed. I grew up, was dragged along by the flow of time.

But this blue fairy, she didn’t change. She stayed the same. She managed to hold on to her strongest feeling, her eternal love, thus breaking the law of nature. She would fight anything to touch the king one more time, even the time itself.

Like, literally, she was timeless.



Can you hear it? A tinkling sound, travelling from a corner of this room into my ears. I remember putting a music box on a table next to my bed two years ago. That was where the music came from. The music was a switch, slowing down the motion of time, smoothing the atmosphere. Spinning in such beauty, a tiny figure of ballerina inside the music box. Her movement was one with the rhythm, and her legs were where small sparkling lights of different colours flew from. The music’s wavelength calmed my mood, toning down the speed of my thoughts.

I opened my eyes. No light was on. No electricity, no running devices. They were all shut down. The room was so dim I could barely read a word on the posters glued onto the walls. The window was open, though. But the sun was hiding behind the thick, dark clouds. Its light hardly broke through. No movement and sound, except the one from the music box.

My bed was unmade. Dirty clothes on the floor. One of the three drawers was open, a couple of books were in it. Disorganized papers on the desk. Drawing tools were everywhere.

Drops of rain have started falling from the sky. The curtains were blown gently by the wind, creating a slow, charming movement. I could smell the scent of wet dirt, and felt my skin swiped by the cool air. My thoughts went along with the air flow, swimming backwards, retracing every step. This air brought pieces of treasures left by wanderers and introduced them to many other people across the globe, touched various items, eroded rocks, and finally entered my room, where I was standing in the middle of it, contemplating.

Signals from the past rang a bell in my head. I remembered tons of memories. I relived them in only minutes, in the form of disjointed flashbacks, and in random orders. The ones important to me were the clearest, the funny ones made me smile, and the sad ones were a reminder of my humanity. I was such an innocent child. I was only a bundle of my parents’ joy and happiness. I was pure and bright. They were my precious memories, my most important possessions. Nothing would replace them.

I’ve felt fear, pain, sadness, loneliness. I’ve longed for love, gentleness, recognition, acceptance, praises. I’ve fought hatreds and obstacles. This world, I’ve touched it. This life, I’ve tasted it. I had scars, I shed tears, all of which I could hardly forget.

The sound of heavy rain brought my thoughts back into my room. I was here, still. Time was in my control. I felt tranquil and static. I was in a complete solitude, away from everything, every dynamic movement, every change.

So calm, so tranquil. I never wanted this to end.

But then I was struck by the sound of an opening door. A guard with a suppressed emotion shown on his eyes stepped into my cell. “It’s time,” he said in a flat tone. I then realized everything. My mind was back into reality. My hands started shaking and sweating. I wanted to cry, but I promised myself to hold my tears. I forced my body to stand up and walked slowly towards the guard. He handcuffed me, and gently gave me a hand signal to step out of my cell, where two other guards were waiting.

My head was empty. I went blank as my feet dragged me along the hallway. I’ve said goodbye to my cellmates, and made peace to myself. I told myself that I was ready, that this was inevitable. But my body wouldn’t stop trembling. My deepest self still didn’t want this to happen.

I didn’t pay any attention. I felt like walking, but I didn’t see where to, and what I passed by along the way. I didn’t try to focus my hearing either. My ears caught sounds and voices, but my brain wouldn’t recognize them. And then suddenly I was on a chair, a wooden chair. Straps were put around my chest, my arms, and my legs. A microphone was held closely in front of my mouth. I was sure the guards asked if I had any last word, but I couldn’t hear his voice.

As I said before, my head was empty. I couldn’t think of a word, especially the ones which could truly represent my feelings and could sum up my entire life. I was silent for a long time. Maybe one, maybe two minutes. But then I decided to say, “I’m sorry for everything.”

And then the guard walked away to put back the microphone onto its place. I couldn’t give a damn about what they were doing behind me, now that the time was ticking. Probably checking the phone if someone out there suddenly changed their mind and decided to stop this procedure. Meanwhile, my eyes caught a bunch of witnesses sitting silently behind a glass wall in front of me. But I didn’t even start to think of what was going on in their minds.

From then on, I went completely blank. Seconds until the electrocution. Seconds until my body tensed up. Seconds until my last touch of life.

I was ready.

But then I felt tranquil, wherever I was, whenever the time was. I said goodbye to my whole life, and all the memories were erased. Everything was neither white nor black. This place was spaceless. The time stopped, and I was nowhere. So calm, so tranquil.

I hope I would rest in peace.

Don’t Wake Up

(dont mind me. i’m just bored and automatically trying to be poetic)

Everything’s alright

I can see you’re sleeping well

Dreaming well too, I hope

Don’t wake up, not now


The fire is still burning out here

Screams are everywhere

People cry for help, for their lives

Hell is what’s going on


Devils have been inside us

They’ve gone rogue

They tore us, burned us

What’s left of us is darkness


Now we strive for survival

But we’re not surviving at all

You don’t want to wake up yet

This world is falling apart


Just dream of the stars, of touching the moon

Dream of the northern lights

Dream of a beautiful garden

Dream of paradise


Let me be the one who fight

I’ll deliver you a promised land

Where nothing’s wrong

Someday, you’ll get it


Rest well, my dear

Don’t feel any pain

I’ll be strong, I’ll be tough

For you, for this to be over


You’ve always loved rainy days

Dream of them, be in peace

While it’s flooding out here

Blood and tears and sweats


The sun is warm in your dream

But it’s eating us on the surface

The sky no longer protects us

Sands are where we’re standing on


We see red and black

We see fire and destruction

We turned on each other

We are the devils


My dear, we long for peace, justice, and love

I’m afraid they are no longer here

So if you can hear me, please,

Dream of them


When you wake up, I’ll be here

The rain is going to stop

The sun won’t kill us

Everyone will hug each other


But now is not the time to wake up

Keep dreaming, close all your senses

Don’t wake up yet

Stay in there for a little longer


Dream of the night sky, the howling wolves

Sparkling fireflies, whispering pines

Autumn breeze, colourful leaves

Dream of flapping your wings


You will find a happy ending, I promise

When you wake up, it’ll be over

But now, just sleep tight, hold on to your dreams

Dream of a better world, dream of us


I was red, and she was blue. I was the mess, and she was the perfection. I was tornado, and she was peace. Nothing would ever change that.

I knew where this was going from the beginning. We wouldn’t end up as friends, that I was sure. At least that was the logical thinking of how two different characters dared to crash a diamond wall which had separated them. That was logical, yes. That made sense, everyone would agree. That was logical, completely logical.

Hell, we were poles apart.

My dreams were sacred. I treasured them, even in times of painful and severe pile of burning memories. They kept me away from the real deals, repressed my tempers, and hid my scars. I was hooked up. They were my fantasy, the very root of my broken, messed up life.

Years and years I spent times curling up in my fictional lair, until she showed up on my doorstep. She was calm, and neatly clothed. I was dirty and deformed. But I laughed at the situation. No one saw, no one cared.

She offered me the world, which, in case this hadn’t occurred to you yet, was full of banging doors and screaming souls and lonely actors. I laughed again, wasn’t interested. “Thanks,” I said. “But I’ve already got my own world. It’s full of wonders. I’m not in need for what you’re offering me.”

Her lips were stretched, forming a little, peaceful smile. She lifted her hand, and fixed the position of her glasses using her index finger. That was when I noticed her ocean blue eyes, blue enough to spark a small part of my destructive fire. “Your own world,” she said. Her voice reminded me of the sound of flowing stream water on the mountains. “It’s… also a part of this world. You know, the bigger one. The one you can actually touch.”

Without saying anything, I tried to close the door. “Please, leave,” I asked her as the line of sunlight from outside grew thinner. But the door wouldn’t move for another inch. She tapped her hand onto it to hold it open.

“They’re calling for you,” she finally said.

“I don’t feel like being called,” I replied straight away.

“But they are!” I could tell she was desperate.

“Why are you forcing me like this?” I asked in a hurting tone.

Then she went silent. Her eyes were peaking through the thin line between the door and the wall. “Would you like to walk with me?” she asked in a really gentle tone.

I could just bang the door right at the moment, closing it completely, rejecting everything, blowing away this strange girl out of my sight. But her stubbornness made me curious. What did she want? Who was she? Why was she doing this? My brain reformed into a time machine, shooting back through ages, searching for whatever clue I could find as to what lead me to this point in my life, where some random person tried to reach my heart.

“What would I find out there?” I asked to buy some time.

“Things,” she responded. “Many things. Good and bad. You’ll see. It’s gonna be full of surprises.” She was still standing at the exact same position, declaring silently that she would never leave until I accept her offer.

“How can I know you’re not trying to trick me? That you’re not some kind of thief or serial killer who’s trying her hardest to get me out of my house? Cause I gotta be honest, darling, you look awfully desperate.”

She seemed to be staring at my eyes, into my soul, touching it and cleaning it from dusts. “I don’t have anything to prove to you.”

Both of us were being silent for minutes. Now I’m wondering why I didn’t decide to just close the door. But I’m glad I didn’t. The silence was me hitting a wall which suddenly appeared in the path that I’d been walking on. The silence was a good opportunity for me to shut it all completely. But if I did, I could have been stuck on the wall forever.

And then I chose to give this girl a chance.

“You’re giving yourself a chance,” she said as if she could read my mind. “I’m only here to help.”

She was right. I found many things out there. I saw colours, hands, tears, blankets, ice creams, and trees. I heard laughter, cries, running steps, clicking, the wind blowing, and birds chirping.

I felt good, I felt alive, I felt that I was a part of this.

My heart was racing, my legs moved faster than they ever had in my entire life. The sky was bright, and the sun was warm on my skin. I laughed with this girl. I played little tricks on her, spouted jokes to make her laugh. I felt braver when I was with her, like, I could do anything. I could push myself into actually do something, help someone, start a life, produce something, get stronger. I felt confident. All was because I was with her.

Then I found out, later that evening, that banging doors were only a mark of lost hearts who long for love, that screaming souls were the ones who need a home, and that lonely actors were still searching for a friend. I felt like… I wanted to be the one who loves, the one who protects, and the one who accompanies. I wanted to help them.

Maybe, if I could be like this strange girl, I could knock on doors of houses like mine, hold it open for the owner to answer the world. That was just a stupid thinking, I guessed. I mean, I was the perfect example of a classic fucked up individual.

That was like trying to break a diamond wall.

So it was logical to think that it was impossible. But I’ve learned that there’s more to this world than meets the eye. Would I give it a try? I had no idea.

But that day was literally the best day of my life. I had fun, I felt amazing. I had a blast. Even though I came back into my cave later that night, and I felt trapped again, I might want to try it for another time, and other times following. I might lose my cave, my perfect protection, my heavenly prison. But I also might find a better one, which would not be a prison at all. Every possibility is possible in this world. Something would happen, and it would definitely be a change, to replace the old one.

I might change, as well. Who knows.

I was red, and she was blue. She toned down my fire, she helped me. I tried to break the diamond wall. And I finally did. What did I find? I found myself. She was right there all this time, searching for me. She struggled, tried her best to find me. She even had to fight me to get to this point. But she had found me now, and I had found her.

She completed me, and I completed her. She succeeded on pulling me closer, and I made it easier for her. We touched each other’s hand. She lifted her right, I lifted my left.

This is illogical, I know. This would never make any sense, in any way imaginable. But you know what? I don’t give a damn. Life is indeed full of surprises, and it was never made to easily be accepted. But now I do.

I was red, and she was blue. Together, we became purple.

A Beginning and Separated Ends

They met back when things were pure and innocent. Beginning always feels so hopeful, we feel powerful. They had no scar, knew no pain. The walls protected them. There was no need to fight.

But it was the start of a journey. As nothing would stay the same forever, peace were no immortal, hiding and running away no more.

They aimed for a destination far, far away from home. They dreamed of the real world, of a path to be made and walked through. Everything was about to become clearer. Walls and curtains were to be erased. They knew it was time to step outside, to collect truths and revelations. Colours were to be sprayed on the vase, lines were to be curved.

They fought, they struggled, and got separated. But the fight didn’t end. It would never end.

Years later, they were reunited. Fate had shaped them, built them into nothing that they were. And then they sat together, letting each other know about what went on along the journey of their lives.

“I was kicked out. I had no money… at least not enough to pay the rent. So they kicked me out,” the first person started. He had problems, financial problems. And he still did. Well that probably would never be solved. But now that he sat there with the ones whom he was closest to, he felt a relieve.

“They treated me like a slave. They hit me, yell at me, and throw more and more fire into the pit. I got more bruises each day and my nose wouldn’t stop bleeding. And yet, they call themselves my parents,” the second person told his friends. He felt alone along his journey. His parents were his enemies, and the world is a hell he was living in. But he had embraced the pain, pushed aside his sadness, and put on a mask. No one could ever see him being weak.

“They told me who I should be, what I should do, and how I should do things. They kept me safe, but also trapped me, locked me inside a luxurious cage,” the third person shared his story. He was a gold many people were after. They desired him. Everyone wanted to possess him.

“So, how’s world?” the first person asked the fourth person.

“Yes, how is it? You were the one, the only one amongst us, who has actually seen the world,” said the second person.

“The world is beautiful, isn’t it?” asked the third.

The fourth person was silent. His eyes were stone cold, staring at the floor. He was expressionless. Clenched fists, sweat drops… he was anxious.

But then he sighed. “I miss home,” he said. “The world was… fine. But there’s no place like home.

“So many things happened. I changed, you all changed. I miss how things were, in the beginning. I’ve gone too far. I’m not who I thought I was anymore. I feel like a stranger even to myself.” He lifted his head a little bit. The others’ eyes met his. “I’m lost without you guys.”

Now the other three were silent.

“There’s not enough answer,” the fourth continued. “Answers have always been what I kept looking for. I searched everywhere, but kept getting lost. I grew tired of trying. I just want to stay home.”

He wanted to go back, to erase the colours that were already made, to whiten the vase, to build back the walls. “Shame, isn’t it? That what I want right now is a complete impossibility.” He paused for a few seconds, and then, “I have no one else left in my life. I left you guys, and I regret it.”

And then he stood up, his eyes were teary. In weak steps, he approached the first person and touched his left cheek. “Your skin is cold. Very cold. And pale.” He gazed down at the first person’s body. A faint and bitter smile grew on his face. “There’s still some snowflakes left on your clothes. The world is too cold and harsh, isn’t it?”

The second person was sitting right next to the first. Upon noticing his curious movements, the fourth turned to face him. There was a mark on his neck; an apparent red line circling his skin. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me. You were my closest,” the fourth said. A drop of tear fell down on his cheek. He sighed while going back to sit on his couch.

“I wasn’t strong enough,” said the second. His eyes were searching for the fourth’s.  But the fourth just couldn’t look at him. He wasn’t strong enough either.

“I know what they had done to you,” the fourth said, directing the sentence to the third. “All those horrible things. All the spoiling, lies, promises…” he closed his eyes. “…hopes.” The sound of wet boots stepping on the floor was clear to the fourth’s ears. He opened his eyes and looked down at the third’s boots. They were wet, and so were his clothes. So was his skin, his hair, his whole body. He was soaked. “You were afraid of water,” the fourth said.

The fourth then picked up his half-filled cup of coffee from the table in front of him and held it in his hands. He got up, slowly. Behind him was a window. Through it now he looked outside in complete silence. Hope was no longer shown on his face. He just stood there, feeling empty.

“But we’re all here now,” the first’s voice cracked the silence. “Together, in this room. All four of us.”

The fourth didn’t respond for a few seconds. But then he looked away from the window. “No, we’re not… together. You guys are just…” he turned around to find a couple of empty sofas. He was alone. “…inside my head.”

The fourth drank his coffee. Everything went silent again, and it was killing him. The room had been empty all along, except for one person; him.

“Everybody needs money.” That was the first person’s voice, just a voice without a body, echoing throughout the whole room.

“And acceptance,” the third’s voice was heard.

“And love,” said the second.

The fourth’s eyes were locked at a point on the floor, emitting nothing but emptiness. His head was filled with floating thoughts, swinging in a calm rhythm. He didn’t even bother to think hard anymore. He then turned around to look through the window. It was a night where the moon was a small, full silver circle on the sky.

“I saw the northern lights with my own eyes,” he said faintly. “It was beautiful. Now all I can see is a dark sky. Even the moon’s light is too weak to awaken lost souls.”

The window was only a little frame of a huge world, the world where tears were shed and cries were heard. The world was a globe of energy, a place we can call home, so close yet so far. We were here, and we were there. We experience discoveries and loss. We lived.

The fourth put down the empty cup on the table and walked into his room. His bed was where he was going to rest. He wished for a good night sleep. He wished for a heavenly dream. He wished the best for his friends, and then closed his eyes.