the present

I suppose that the only moment I will ever open up myself to the world is when I’m on the autopsy table. Lingering stares, prodding and probing with the flesh and bones of my body; yet, my flesh is cold and as pale as the shivering moon, and my bones are weakened and sharply broken on the inside, like I’ve always been and always will be. Broken.


A dreamer, I would call myself. Wishful thinking. I blindly follow my hopes and aspirations until my eyes are glazed over and I plead for somethinganything to keep me going. I’m a little too addicted to easiness, simplicities, wanderlust remedies, and like a child that has no sense of restriction or disregard, I keep on coming back for more. I’m childish in my own selfish way, wandering too far into the forest of my central brain. I lie down, motionless, in a dreamlike state-of-mind.


Sometimes, I miss the feeling of living.


Of course, everyone would assume that I’m dead. I make no effort or attempt to move. My heartbeat stills, slowly, surely, yet oh so patiently, and I just sit and wait, like any obedient child would. I miss the feeling of living. (Doesn’t everyone?). I feign innocence. They cut me open, digging deep into the crevice of my red, plump heart with a motion of disregard, and cradle my warmth in their calloused hands. Terrible, she died from a broken heart. (Oh, doesn’t everyone?).


My world is a swarm of blues, purples, and pinks, a cotton candy serendipity, a safe haven, or perhaps a dream. I could gaze at the sky forever. It’s dizzying my vision of infatuation. The sun is never-ending, waving at me with its gentle touch on my skin; and, in this reality, I stare directly at the sun, taunting the game of whoever could look away first. I stare. I wait. And the sun grimaces, sinking into the horizon, and a smile stretches across the tightness of my face. I win.


Sometimes, I miss the feeling.


I suppose that, when I die, I want to live up in the stars. The night sky seems so empty, so unforgiving, so cold. Could the stars hear me, if I scream loud enough? Could I hear the stars, if the silence is deafening? Chaotic symphony of the stars, I realize. As my light in the world flickers, dimming with uneasiness, until I’m nothing but the peaceful darkness I envelop myself within. At least I have the moon as company until daytime.


She died from a broken heart. Well, how could she love? Who believed in love? She was foolish, a love-struck jester, for allowing her heart to open and swallow whole. She should build her walls, her barriers, her shield of emotional armor, high above the sky, until it gently brushes against the clouds. What an odd feeling it is, to love wholeheartedly and expect nothing in return. Foolish, she was. Throw her heart away, as her heart is growing cold.




Dear dream, can I ask you one more question? I promise I’ll make it quick.


Am I living in a dream, or a nightmare?





I found that, within the literary balance that is my writing, a whole lot of scrambled meaning comes out of it. I’ve stated in prior points of my blog that I can never explain my writing, and I’m not sure whether the linkage between my brain to yours is even possible. I try my best to make means of what I write (if it can be typed, it can be explained, right?) so I’ll try my very best to decipher the present.

I chose specific words / meanings / sentences that relate to my blog. That, my fellow reader, is the one purposeful act of my writing. I constantly repeated the relation of dream because of my blog url, a quite literal “dear dream”. I referenced dear dream at the end, when I turned a dream into a more personified and physical kind of being. Celestial bodies were also mentioned: the sun, stars, and moon. The name of my blog is cindy’s ☾, a reference towards the beauty of my favorite symbolism and writing piece. “At least I have the moon as company until daytime.” is the one simple sentence that demonstrates how I truly feel about the moon. Finally, I mentioned the colors of blue, purple, and pink (the only use of color, may I add) since they were the main colors of my blog. Plus, if I were in a dream-like world, that’s the colors I would envision it as. I thought it was clever while I was writing…?

The literalness of my actual writing – a division between the physical body during death and the wanderer of the soul – is something I won’t go into depth in. I find that my long, unnecessary (I think?) descriptions are a disconnect from the imagery that a writing can create, so whatever a mind can conjure is truly enough meaning. (Also, I don’t think I can explain it that well. I don’t know what I was writing).


┌─── · 。゚☆: *. .* :☆゚───┐

my heart


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5 thoughts on “the present

  1. Dear Cindy,

    Before even reading your “About Me,” I was already impressed by your pretty pastel aesthetic. Ironically, your blog gave me a very dreamlike vibe with the hazy stars and lighter colors; your opening paragraph was the opposite of that. One thing that I noticed was that throughout your piece, you consistently painted an (often gruesome) image in my head. Your descriptive words and phrases are powerful, and I love your voice. It has several points where you can stop and ponder on what you have just read, and I think these are made possible by your choice of punctuation. I also love how you use italics and such to emphasize parts, comments, or internal thoughts. Some of my favorite lines were, “They cut me open, digging deep into the crevice of my red, plump heart with a motion of disregard, and cradle my warmth in their calloused hands,” “It’s dizzying my vision of infatuation,” and, “Chaotic symphony of the stars, I realize.” To be honest, it was hard to pick a few, as your entire piece was beautifully written and polished.

    Now, although I love your flow and use of punctuation, I feel like some commas could be removed. “I’m childish in my own, selfish way, wandering too far into the forest of my central brain, as I lie down, motionless, in a dreamlike state-of-mind.” confused me a bit as I read it. Perhaps remove a comma between own and selfish? Perhaps I am not reading it properly in my head… I did understand it more after reading it a couple more times. I do commend you for your unique flow and punctuation style, though. Not many people could pull it off.

    Your writing is absolutely beautiful and inspiring, and I look forward to reading more of your pieces in the future.


    1. Tiffany,

      I’m really glad that you liked my About Me, and I appreciate the constructive criticism that you gave me. (You’re super sweet, thank you)! That sentence also felt a bit off to me in terms of comma structure, but I think I read it to the point that it seemed to work in my head. I’m very “comma heavy” when it comes to sentences. Thank you, once again, for your kind words :-).


  2. Dear Cindy,

    I thought your piece was beautiful. I especially loved how you italicized the words to emphasize to the readers the description of the cold heart. It allows many to visualize the same things. The imagery used created a picture within my mind as I read every descriptive word that had been written. I like how you bolded the phrase at the end of your poem to create a long lasting effect. Asking the question at the end also reinforces what you may be questioning in your mind. I was able to relate to so many parts of the poem that it kept me intrigued throughout the whole piece. My favorite line was ,”My world is a swarm of blues, purples, and pinks, a cotton candy serendipity, a safe haven, or perhaps a dream.” The colors used as descriptors and the italicization of the word dream hooked me immediately.

    Again, your piece was so intriguing to read. One thing I would change to make it so much better, is writing your sentence and then after you include the bracketed words without periods in between them. For example, the line,”Terrible, she died from a broken heart. (Oh, doesn’t everyone?).” Do not include periods beside a phrase that has brackets, but instead incorporate it with the sentence such as “,…She died from a broken heart(Oh, doesn’t everyone?).”

    Overall, I loved your piece and I hope to see future pieces that you create in the future!


    1. Mariam,

      Thank you for commenting on my About Me! The advice you gave me about brackets was really insightful, as I’ve sort-of struggled with the proper, grammatical use of brackets for a while now. I’m glad that my writing piece allowed for plenty of imagery and visuals. I appreciate your comment, as always, and thank you once again (I was definitely waiting for your comment to pop up in my dashboard).

      Cindy <3

  3. Dear Cindy

    Thank you for giving me advice on my page for my About Me. Sorry, I took so long. I carefully looked over your advice and will definitely try to fix those mistakes in my writing. I found you’re about me to be incredibly insightful and creative and I have to say that you are an incredible writer.


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