Tag: Madness

• Doubts

  PERSONAL

  Yeah, Alright. I’m Sick.

  And I must stay sick.

  I’m sick,
  I have doubts all the time,
  though I believe in what I do,
  I truly love it,
  but the doubts keep me at ease,
  I may have ideas,
  but who even has time to change minds?
  adverts? AI? Quantum Physics?
  they change minds all the time,
  they launch curiosity and facts,
  they brainwash, they create societies,
  and yet here I am being so sick,
  having doubts despite the strong belief.
  
  Strong belief?
  Or ego?
  
  also, I’m watching new shows,
  with exaggerated characters
  and brilliant story lines that must
  run as chaotic as how my brain
  absorbs human connections
  that are overwhelmingly
  flawed and grotesque.
  
  but I must stay sick,
  and I must have all the doubts,
  it’s an undesirable adrenaline
  to keep going,
  as I remind myself:
  keep believing.
  
  I think it’s a great opportunity
  to stay sick and have all the doubts.
  Because the hard truth is
  no one out there will sit with me
  in silence.
  No matter how long I have devoted
  my life to this. No matter.
  All I have to do
  is to stay sick
  and caress all the doubts.
  Not to change minds.
  Not to plant any ideas.
  
  But just to stay sick and find meaning
  in the lasting doubts offered by
  either ego or a strong belief.
  

  November 27, 2025

  Creativity, Introspective Art, Madness, Philosophy, Poets

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• Mad Woman from Mystical Woods

  personal

  Mad Woman from Mystical Woods

  I wrote this during a meditative state. Who am I?

  I’m a mad woman from mystical woods where nature glazes through the heart of clouds. As a child, I would sit by the waterfalls with animals, waiting for angels to come by. A desired wish was whispered to me by the devil. I believed it and surrendered. The only way to hear heaven’s symphony was to fly so far away. An adventure of the brave and beauty.
  
  As a mad woman from mystical woods, I climbed up mountains to meet the four seasons. Winter was a fairy tale where I was rescued by reindeers. Spring was truth unfolding before my longing eyes. Summer was home to keep me alive. And fall? Well, it was a surprise. For the wish needed to die.
  
  The desired wish was a forbidden fruit that a mad woman like me must not devour. My friends were colourful and gallant spiders hidden in exotic leaves, with a strange power. The four seasons were not meant for us after all. Such realization was gifted by fall. Civilization, as they called it, was full of dangers and hate. The devil, indeed, wanted me dead.
  
  To believe and surrender was not in the mad woman’s magical books. Though it was never a mistake leaving the mystical woods. It was fate, it became a muse. The beginning had ended. The end had just begun. It was when I knew how life must dwell under the sun.
  
  I heard heaven’s symphony when I basked in rains. When I caught gold before rainbows could even appear. When I spoke to the angels and the devil at once. When my friends fought to catch my attention before I could run. When the mystical woods sang to keep me awake. “Here”, nature said, “you are loved until the very end.”
  
  The adventure of the brave and beauty gave birth to a shack. Where piles and piles of stories hid away from the wild. For I, the mad woman from mystical woods, would rather commune with the waterfalls. Animals understood my soul without judgment and applause.
  
  My madness, no one shall ever cure. For it is certain and pure. The mystical woods are where the sun still shines. I don’t need any more signs. The heart of clouds is where I will be buried. What would life be without madness and nature to be cherished?
  
  What would life be without madness and nature to be cherished?

  October 2, 2025

  Civilization, Creative Muse, Immigrant Life, Madness, Nature

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