Kaleidoscope

I’m thinking it all started with a wish,

A happy one at that.

365 days prior,

I typed my heart out.

 

I remember wanting that first one unique,

Something out of the blue,

Something a lot like me,

The very talkative geek.

 

But now I read it again,

Thinking it was all very genuine and real.

I’ve written many words since then,

Describing you in every shade of teal.

 

So thinking back at it all,

Maybe it started with that meet up,

In restaurant characterised by the sea,

At a time where I really felt completely free.

 

..I used to hear your name and shyly smile.

 

Because in my heart, it lighted a flame;

And it ignited a fire of sleepless nights,

Lost with my heart skipping a mile after a mile.

And yes,

I know that you’re not to blame,

But for me to get that…

It may take a while.

 

You know what is it that I miss?

 

I miss the boy with the ambitions.

I miss the artist with the aimless brush,

The one who wanted to draw worlds with his own conditions.

Because that-

That was the boy I fell for.

That was the you that daily made me blush.

 

Do you know what’s a Kaleidoscope?

It’s what they call a group of butterflies;

It’s what gave me daily hope.

They’d flutter by each time we talk,

And I ask what if I suddenly on that choke?

But hey that’s me,

I ask crazy questions all the time,

And you’d reply with answers that rhyme.

 

I knew too much and too little,

And I always wanted more.

Then we stopped talking,

And the bond went a tad brittle.

But that’s okay, I guess,

It’s not like we’d clean the mess.

 

Had I lost the signs or were they right there?

And when did we agree to part ways?

Because I never got to say goodbye–

Never saw the ‘good’ in there.

I knew life got us caught up by,

But give me an instant where that’s fair.

 

Yes you rode the waves,

And yes I surfed mine too.

But hadn’t I waited for you by the shore?

What else could I’ve done more?

Alone, you built your caves,

And alone, I sat there without a clue.


Hey there beautiful people!

Since good Ol’ Sir Valentine is upon us, I thought I may as well present my own share of chocolate here with this sad love poem. What did you think? My heart kinda broke with that last stanza there, did yours too?

That aside though, allow me to say: Happy Valentine’s Day; and may the odds be ever in your favour!

#ForeverASinglePringle

Midnight Ranter (aka Ayaka)

Celebrating The Little Things Tag

It gets quite sad having to begin each tag post with an apology, you know…


Hullo wonderful folks of Planet Earth (and elsewhere),

It really is unfair that I happen to be such a lazy (sometimes inhumanly busy) individual because it does this wonderful human no justice at all, really. You know, Ava over at Reads, Rhythms and Ruminations, is this talented, creative, funny and- well, if I go on, we’ll be here the whole day; but I’d suggest you check out her blog and you’d know right away where I’m coming from. But my point is, Ava, the epic blogger, tagged me to this awesome tag where one gets to look back and appreciate the little things. And since I do that quite often in my mind, I find it a great chance that I’ve gotten tagged to officially write it all here on my blog. So thank you, Ava!

And now onto the questions~

1. Who was your very first follower (if you can find out)? Tag them and give them a shout out!

Well I remember that she was the very first comment that I ever got, the very first that had made my eyes the size of saucers and placed a giddy smile on my face, and, if my memory serves me right, she was also the first follower. I’m speaking of ThegirlwhofearoblivionSadly, she hasn’t posted anything since a long while now but the posts she already had up were very relatable!

Favourite Part Of Blogging //FPOB Collab

Imagine yourself standing in a roomful of screaming music. 

Imagine yourself stranded on an island. 

Imagine yourself setting fire with the mere touch of your hand. 

Okay, I know it gets wilder and wilder by the second, but I feel as though that’s the way it is with imagination. But in case you don’t want metaphors and similes, I’ll say it outright:

Did you ever had this one moment, or millions of them, where you had your head filled with all sorts of thoughts, ideas and talks and they felt so loud in there that you could almost see them spilling out in one incoherent bundle of opinions?

Have you ever felt isolated or alone or even as though you had a bubble of your own and you only managed to float around people with it, but never really mingle?

Or have you ever been so passionate about this one thing, be it books, makeup, fashion, words, TV, or anything in between, to the point that you felt as though your passion alone could spark up and ignite worlds once unleashed?

Whether it’s the first, second, third or any other reason, we need an escape. And by that, I don’t strictly mean a way out; I mean a temporary distraction from reality and routine— somewhere to vent out all of this pent up energy. And to me, this blog right here is my haven.

In one epic Collab, 17 bloggers came together to answer one question we all ultimately ask ourselves at one point or the other. What is your favourite part about blogging?

Many would say the community; others would say the vibe; some would say the liberation. Me? I say it’s all that and more in one. It’s this unity that comes with being a blogger and reading blogs in general; it’s seeing that the world is truly round, because we are all from all over the globe and yet meet as though we’ve come a full circle already.

In here, it doesn’t matter whether you’re short, tall, fat, thin, black, white, man or woman. What matters is you’re a human with thoughts, emotions, hobbies and things to say and share and that there’ll always be someone to hear what you have in mind and maybe even agree with you. What matters is that you’re never alone and never will be. And that— that’s my favourite thing about blogging and it’s people.

Therefore, I’d like to thank all of my blogging friends, readers, and viewers—all those who have stopped by at least once and taken a glance at this little nook of mine in the blogosphere and made me feel like I belong.

I’d also like to thank these wonderful fellow bloggers who have come together in this Collab and give them a shoutout because each and every one of them has great content and a very real post on our favourite thing about blogging, one that definitely deserves a read:

 

Shania @ Life As Shania

Mahriya/Train Of Thought @ My Bookish Life

Vivian @ Writing With Style

Evelynn @ Evelynn & Nathalia’s DIY Corner

Joce @ Write Through The Night

Elm @ Just Call Me Elm Or Something

Amethyst @ My Life As Amethyst Extrovert 

Flawed_Silence @ Flawed Silence 

Closet Readers @ Closet Readers

The Stylish Dreamer @ The Stylish Dreamer

Emma @ Book Emma 

My Crazy Obsession with books @ My Crazy Obsession With Books & English 16 

FarahEdz @ The Girl With Coffe 

Lucia R @ Hangout With Lucia 

Pixey @ My xStar Blog

Brookie aka Ellyn Kim @ Brookie Soars 


No one said anything about this bit but.. I want to hear what you love about blogging; so consider this a tag and do it! Tell me about it in the comments or write up a post and let me know because (that’s a secret here) the comments I receive and the talks I have with you people are what makes blogging definitely definitely the best thing on earth~

Love,

Midnight Ranter (aka Ayaka)

The Pen Pal Collab! (ft. Mahriya @ My Bookish Life)

Hullo inhabitants of planet Earth (or any other planet you find accommodating)!

Today is a special day featuring a very special person. What’s the occasion you ask? Well, no, it’s not exactly a birthday celebration, no.

Mahriya from MyBookishLife and I decided to finally collaborate together (which is, like, the greatest thing to ever happen to little Ranter here) and let the world witness a whirlwind of thoughts that was never before seen. Mahriya is one of the most wonderful, sweet and adorable bloggers I’ve ever had the honour of knowing, and this collab is as special as it is epic simply because that lady right there is phenomenal.

Besides, it’s about one of our all-time favourite books, and how can one honour his favourite book in any way other than write about it? With that said, we decided to think up of a prompt with the book in mind, and here’s what we came up with! The prompt is Kites, in honour of The Kite Runner, one of the greatest books I’ve ever read. And since today also happens to be Opposites Day (did you know that?), I’m posting Mahriya’s answer and she’s posting mine.

 

So here’s Mahriya’s answer, be sure to check out her blog for its epic and great content! No kidding, that girl has so much creativity stored in there it’s a tad too phenomenal. And while you are at it, you may find my answer to the prompt and perhaps you’d want to give it a go? Because I know it won’t be so tempting after you check out what Mahriya has written (she blew my mind away with the description, God). But it’d be awesome of you to check it out~


Kite Prompt.png

The kite. There it lay, drunkenly resting on the blue suitcase, still tired from the days when it used to be dragged around and ripped up in the never-ending sky. Those days were over. It had been many years since the Kite had felt the harsh wind of the world or the rough tiny hands of a human. And today, it would be stuffed away, taken to a different place altogether.

It was no longer elegant and beautiful as it had once been. Its edges has been folded by the hard walls of the cupboard and its string was limp whilst the actual kite itself was dead and silent. It hadn’t been used in years and the Kite couldn’t quite remember how the fresh fluffy clouds felt and  how the calm, blue sky looked. Not anymore. Now the Kite only knew of the the dark scary inside of the cupboard and the lonely days to come.
They had called the Kite ‘The Monster’, once. Its humongous, colourful face would roar in the wind and its tail would swirl around like a fire dancing. It would soar and rip through the air, with envious faces trailing behind.
Its new home would probably be in a dump far away from any contests or child. Far away from any attention or love. Far away from life and the world. It was no longer a champion, it was just a broken toy that no-one wanted to touch.
Children didn’t play anymore, only stared at screens and flat objects that they carried around with them. There were no annual Kite contests, only apps and games online.
There were no Kites, only broken toys.

There were no Children, only addicts.
There were no Kite Runners. Not anymore.

by mahriya.png


Oh God. Oh God. Was that fantabulous or what? Personally speaking, I’d like to sign up for writing lessons from her because it was just that good. Agreed?

Be sure to check out my answer to the prompt over at Mahriya’s blog, and while you’re at it, give her a hearty follow because that’s one of those decisions you won’t ever regret~

Tell me your thoughts on the prompt and its answers below! You know I love hearing (reading, really) them!

 

Love,

Midnight Ranter (aka Ayaka)

Corrupt Me–Blog Tour/Book Review

Three words: That. Was. Intense.

 

 

Howdy ladies and gentlemen!

Alright, so this review is a definite step out of the comfort zone for me; primarily because this book is a New Adult one, a genre that I don’t journey often– perhaps ever– and also because this book was my first ever ARC! The excitement of that alone is a tad overwhelming. But with all that said, I would like to thank the wonderful author, Jillian Quinn–who is one of the sweetest humans on the planet–for giving me the opportunity to review her debut novel. You can find more about her on her website: jillianquinnbooks.com or simply give her a visit over at her blog! Yep, she’s a fellow blogger too! Check it out here.

So let’s see what the novel with the intriguing title is about, shall we?

cm-synopsis-website-copy

I have to say that the synopsis did interest me a bit; not because it has the bad-boy-good-girl vibe, but because it involved the mafia and the criminal underworld and that’s not something that I’ve come across often. Better still, it’s not your usual good-girl-bad-boy novel; simply because Isabelle–Izzie– isn’t a good girl. Not by a far cry.

As I said, this one came across as one hell of an intense read– everything was very heightened compared to what I’m used to. I’m certain, however, that it was a new trial for me, and I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy a few bits from it, like the food mentioned in this book, for instance. Now that was intense, alright (God.. just remembering is making me hungry).

I had a little issue throughout the book where I couldn’t exactly connect with Izzie. Izzie is a bit of a hot-head; someone who’d just go for it and pause to think about the consequences later after the deed is done. She’s rather athletic, smart, intellectual, and very confident in her adventurous lifestyle, generally. Compared to her, I’m in every bit her opposite; but I guess it was refreshing seeing how life would turn out for a character in a novel with those attributes.

I felt as though the relationship between Izzie and Luca was sort of purely physical. There was a definite instant attraction–but they did have a history, so that’s to be put in mind– but I didn’t see them talk about their feelings, really. Yes, in some cases action speaks louder than words, but it’s always healthy to converse too. Personally, I tend to gravitate towards that kind of subtlety, but our couple there preferred it intense.

I guess the book was more centred on how the two came to accept one another in their lives, what with each of them being so very stubborn and their own persons (does that make sense?), so the character development was highlighted there. Luca came across first as your typical hot and irresistible male love interest, but I loved his relationship with his Mother. I liked how he always acknowledged Izzie’s strength and admired her for it; so where I previously would’ve rolled my eyes a bit at the general attention that guy attracted, I now know where the appeal comes from– Luca is more that just a pretty face and I can see a lot of character growth for that guy.

The author’s writing style ranges from modern to classical descriptive, so in some instances it feels as though you’re literally listening in on the character’s thoughts, and in other cases, you’re reading a well-written novel; and that was a great thing to have.

If you want a novel with steamy scenes, a chemical romance with a touch of danger and a general easy-read, this novel is a great candidate. It showed me parts of the world that perhaps I wasn’t entirely aware of: it painted the wild college life and the temptations lust could present to us humans, and that definitely wasn’t something I thought we’d give in to easily, but this book proved me wrong. So it was definitely refreshing seeing all the wild parts us humans have suddenly unleashed on the pages.

Find more info about the novel here~ Goodreads . Amazon . Barnes & Noble


 

about-jillian-quinn-bio-graphic-1.jpeg

More on the Author!


So is this your type of a read? Would you give it a go? Have you, already?

(Also also, how was my first official ARC review?)

Let me know in the comments below!

Love,

Midnight Ranter (aka Ayaka)

Being Blind

Hey there folks!

How’ve you all been doing? I’m hoping good Ol’ Jan has been kind to you– or at least, not very mean.

I come to you with a rather debatable topic today– well, I don’t know if it’s universally so, I just know that I suddenly found it debatable and decided a Rant should solve the issue.

So today my phone pinged up with a text from one of my mates. Curious, I check it to see a narration of a short passage with a moral behind it. The message was something like:

A man married a beautiful lady. He loved everything about her, but as with most attractions, he was always awed by her unearthly beauty, and every time he’d look at her, he’d fall in love just a little bit more, entranced by her charm. So when one day, after he left on tour, his wife developed a sudden skin disease, she believed that with that cursed disease, no one would love her any more. 
On his way back from the tour, however, he met with an accident, and although his life was spared, his sight wasn’t. And so began their new chapter as a blind man and a woman with diminishing beauty. 
 The woman’s love for her husband didn’t waver once despite the hardships that came with caring for a blind man, but, slowly, her disease started taking away her beauty, leaving her a withering flower that kept losing her petals no matter how well you tended for it.
One day, though, she died. Her death brought him great sorrow; leaving the man in a grievous state so deep it almost endeavoured him whole.
He finished all her last rights and wanted to leave that town.
A man from behind called and said, ‘Now how will you be able to walk all alone? All these days your wife used to help you.’
He replied, ‘I am not blind. I was acting,  because if she came to know that I knew that she had skin disease, it would have pained her more than her disease. So I only acted blind. She was the love of my life; and I only wanted to keep her happy.’

The moral there is that sometimes, it is for the better to act blind or ignore someone’s short comings, just to keep them happy.

Whereas I do think that this is a very touching story of what love is and what sacrifices we have to make because we care, I do have a little to add there.

It’s true that highlighting someone’s problem would not make them happy, but ignoring them wouldn’t either. Maybe it works for some people; but definitely not all. I believe that when we care about someone, we embrace them as a whole– with their ups and downs, imperfections, insecurities, quirks and everything in between.

What you do when you care for someone is help them out, not ignore their problems or pretend they’re not there. Yes, some issues can’t be helped, like that lady’s skin disease, but that’s all the more reason to let her know that it’s not the glow of her complexion that makes her pretty, it’s everything else.

My point is, don’t try to be blind for her, but maybe show her that you’re the only person who sees what the whole world can’t: her inner beauty, strength and soul.

Close your eyes and open your heart, I assure you it’d be worth it.

 

Anyone agrees with me here?

 

Midnight Ranter

The Mysterious Affair At Style– Book Review

Just when you think Agatha Christie’s books got old… she surprises you–practically arches one of her perfect eyebrows up–and, with a slightly devilish grin, triumphantly yells, ‘Ha! As if!’

 

..Leaving you staring after her awesomeness with your jaw practically passing out on the floor…

 

Hullo wonderful people!

Alright, dramatic reactions aside, let’s get on with the review and see what the back of the book has to say.

Agatha Christie’s first novel, The Mysterious Affair at Styles, was the result of a dare from her sister Madge who challenged her to write a story.

The story begins when Captain Hastings is sent back to England from the First World War due to injury and is invited to spend his sick leave at the beautiful Styles Court by his old friend John Cavendish. Here, Hastings meets John’s step-mother, Mrs Inglethorpe, and her new husband, Alfred. Despite the tranquil surroundings Hastings begins to realise that all is not right. When Mrs Inglethorpe is found poisoned, suspicion falls on the family, and another old friend, Hercule Poirot, is invited to investigate.

Now I know what you’re probably thinking right now is something along the lines of, ‘Hey mate, that sounds like a perfectly ordinary novel; what’re the theatrics up there for then?’

If you haven’t read anything by Agatha Christie before, I ought to tell you here and now that her books (or the few that I’ve read by her, at least) have this completely mystic aura about them, and maybe it’s the writing style, or perhaps it’s the tone, voice, soul or even spirit in between the pages; but there’s something that just gets you glued to the pages right away.

“You gave too much rein to your imagination. Imagination is a good servant, and a bad master. The simplest explanation is always the most likely.”

So I get that the plot sounds completely ordinary and perhaps even a little mundane for a lot of you, but to a mystery-loving ranter like yours truly here, this was everything. It was my first-ever Hercule Poirot novel, and I have to say, I was certainly not disappointed.

I guess a part of me was comparing Sherlock Holmes with Hercule Poirot in some subconscious way or another. (In case you don’t know– Sherlock Holmes is a fictional famous detective starring Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s novels (also Benedict Cumberbatch on BBC’s Sherlock, if you want a modern introduction); he also happens to be one of the greater loves of my life). So with two great detectives right there, I apparently had to compare them and see who does what better where.

Nope, don’t compare them, please.

“Sometimes I feel sure he is as mad as a hatter and then, just as he is at his maddest, I find there is a method in his madness.”

Poirot is a great little thing. And I don’t mean great in the Sherlock-Holmes-is-great sense; I mean he’s a wonderfully funny, comical and real character who’s surprisingly bubbly for someone so shrouded in mystery. I have noticed that throughout the entire novel, he spoke only with ambiguous wordings, literally making even the simplest facts seem doubtful. Because for some reason or the other, you think that maybe he’s lost a bit of his marbles with all the crazy cases he had to deal with, but oh boy is that man a genius. A genius so very mundane that it’s a tad intimidating how he doesn’t look or even appear it.

“Every murderer is probably somebody’s old friend,” observed Poirot philosophically. “You cannot mix up sentiment and reason.”

Christie’s novel, despite being a crime classic, was surprisingly breezy, humorous, and such an easy read. I guess what’s so impressive about her novels is that the amount of simplicity in them make them so amazingly crafted and complex that it kind of knocks you out and takes your breath away by the end. Her mystery was intriguing, definitely maddening and utterly amazing.

I know I have basically showered the book with compliments that seem out of place with a plot so simple, but this lady was not entitled the Queen of Crime for nothing, you guys. True, the way I felt kind of dumbfounded by the end wasn’t very flattering for neither me or poor Hastings (it’s written from his POV), but what can I say, I just love a challenging mystery. And this one?  This one was definitely one.


What about you? Read any mysteries lately? Will you give this one a go? Let me know in the comments below, I’d love to hear all about it! 

Loads of love, 

Midnight Ranter (aka Ayaka)