- What are you thinking about?
- No, seriously, what are you thinking about?
- Do you think I’m kidding here?
- Why won’t you tell me?
- What are you staring at?
- Why are you even reading this post?
- Why are you still here?
- Why?
- How on earth will I stop you from reading this?
- Are you this stupid?
- Will you stop?
- If you finish this, do you think something good will happen?
- Are you sure?
- How are you still here?
- Do you think this last question is a question?
Tag: Questions
An Eye-Opening Open Letter to my Exasperating Memory
Each night, as I succumb to slumber, I dive into an endless abyss of thoughts, my mind. I watch words forming, pairing and getting know each other. I see it as a masterpiece. I then decide to post in it this blog. But the next morning, I forget about three fourths of what it was.
Why do you have to be so unreliable?
As I march through the notes perfectly in playing instruments, halfway through the piece, I forget the notes.
Why must you be so annoying?
Exams. I studied hard for this day, cramming every last bit of information and reviewing the notes. But when exams are actually knocking on my door, those notes, those information, those spent hours, I forget.
Why are you so frustrating?
I remind myself in every way for that homework or project due for tomorrow. But still, I forget.
Why do you have to be mean?
Those annoying shameful awkward moments, frequently popping into my mind when I don’t need them. I don’t forget.
Why are you malevolent?
Nightmares. Have the ability to kill you. I want it out. But you don’t allow it.
Why do you enjoy this?
Why?
What did I ever do to you?
Why are you so rude?
But still, thank you. You let me feel that I’m still human, that I’m not a flash drive. You might have these atrocities but I can still use you for reminiscence. Thank you.
Paranormal Activities?
Nah, it’s just you and your imaginative mind conjuring them, or is it?
I am a Malevolent Monster! What Have I Done?
I enslaved my brain and I have become a cruel and brutal master.
I angrily forced and battered it to generate ideas.
It was totally blank for anything.
But his caring friend, Pity, persuaded me.
I gave it a chance.
It’s last chance.
It told me in its last dying breath to write its experience with me.
Guilt swapped places with Anger.
What have I done?
No it’s not a poem. Apparently for me, having mental block can be beneficial. Why? The post above.
Whose Position Attracted the Horrifying Entity, Awkward, More?
Earlier this noon, my cousin and I stayed in their parked car with the windows open. Then, this guy inserted his face in the window and exclaimed, ” What are you doing in here?”
My mouth released no words at all. An awkward staring contest began between the two of us. Luckily, my uncle showed up and told him his car which happens to be similar with ours, is right next to the car on the right hand side.
He walked away from us, without uttering a single word.
RedefiningRandom 