The Screwdriver

Once, I was looking for this singular screwdriver and I couldn’t find it anywhere I looked. And mind, I rummaged through everything and every drawer to get it; but sadly resurfaced empty-handed.

My father, bless him, sees me in my disarrayed state and asks what I was looking for. When I told him, he asks me, ‘What colour is it?’

And I answer him and tell him it’s yellow.

He smiles-grins a little, looks me in the eye like he knows some secret I haven’t a clue on, and tells me that there was also a purple one, which was right under my nose and I couldn’t see it even though I searched that place at least three times.

The moral is: sometimes you’re looking for something in this distinct shape and never find it; but once you realise that the shape could change, you may as well find it right in front of you, hidden (or not so hidden) in plain sight, with you not having the least idea on. You just had your sights on something too distinct.

The end you’re looking for may not be there, but that doesn’t mean that there is no end. It just means that there’s a different shape and colour to it.

So open up your mind more as I have learnt to open mine.

Signed,

Midnight Ranter (aka Ayaka)

Amnesia

Feeling the touch and letting go,

Only to awaken cold on the snow.

Seeing the colours flash by,

Only to open her eyes and wonder why.

Looking up she saw pictures,

And with love and hate arose many mixtures—

Love because she could feel it;

And with saudade, hatred lit.

There was something wrong in her, she knew;

But what it was, she had no clue.

She’d feel it consume her, all those fears;

And when she’d realise it, her face is wet with tears.

She tried fighting,

But it was nothing too enlightening.

She tried letting it go,

But the hollowness only seemed to grow.

They were buried memories, she now knew;

But how’d you feel with something lost in you?

Would you dig and search deep,

Or let it fade away and weep?

And now could you imagine her world in shades of black?

Could you feel the fire of her passion dying out?

Hear the warmth her screams lack?

See the despair in her heart flourish and sprout?

Hey hey hey! 

Long time no post, I know. But sadly, I’ve been drowning in this sea of inspiration-less doom and couldn’t get anything to type. Now, however, I think I’ve resurfaced. 

So? What do you think? Any good? Let me know in the comments below! 

Lots of love, 

Midnight Ranter (aka Ayaka) 

This or That Book Tag

*fake cough*

Howdy everyone!

So if you’ve been around for a while now, I’m hoping that you already know how very irresponsible I get with tags even though I get so honoured when I do get tagged.

 

It’s an issue– I’m working on it.

 

Pausing the blabber now, I’d like to thank the wonderful, most gracious and awesome blogger from Train of Thoughts  for tagging me, and I apologise (greatly) for taking so long to do it. But hear this, ladies and gentlemen: that girl’s blog is just one of the most fantastic ones I’ve ever come across. It’s so organised, pretty and professional– I truly look up to her for it. So do check it out; it’s epic.

Also, the tag was originally created by Ayunda @Tea and Paperbacks.


Now onto the rules of the tag:

  1. Mention the creator of the tag;
  2. Thank the blogger who tagged you;
  3. Choose one of the options, you don’t have to tell the reasons why you chose that but you can also do them if you want to;
  4. Tag 10 other people to do this tag to spread the love!

Two of these are done. The questions?

  1. Reading on the couch or on the bed?

Uhhh.. That’s a tough one. I’d read anywhere as long as my book’s in my hand.. but I guess I read more on bed since it’s where I get my free time (don’t tell my mum– I’m normally supposed to be asleep).

2. Male main character or female main character?

As a wise man once said, (aka my father) gender doesn’t really matter. Males have certain ways to view things and so do females; and it’s refreshing seeing either on my pages.

3. Sweet snacks or salty snacks when reading?

See, I’m a weird person (surprise, surprise). Where people normally eat sweets to stop getting dizzy, I eat them and get dizzy. It’s weird, I know. Therefore, I’d go with salty– even though I normally don’t eat while reading to prevent getting any crumbs on my book.

4. Trilogies or quartets?

Quartets since I like stories lasting for a while.

5. First person point of view or third person point of view?

I read more third than first (I like the first POVs though). Also, I write in third. I like it because it’s a greater scope on things and normally more descriptive.

6. Reading at night or in the morning?

Whenever I’m free, basically. Which is mostly at night.

7. Libraries or bookstores?

Remember the bit where I said I was weird? Amplify that, please.

You see, I get too attached to books. So attached that I actually don’t like giving them away once I have them. Therefore, I don’t borrow books– nor from friends, family or libraries. So bookstores it is.

8. Books that make you laugh or make you cry?

I don’t normally laugh out loud with books; I just smile, grin or just chuckle. But books making me cry? Hell, there’s a whole list of that. So I go for crying because that’s one of the prominent evidences that books do make you feel something.

9. Black book covers or white book covers?

That’s one weird question. Twilight has both a black and a white edition– did the content change? Uh, no. As long as the book’s worth it, I’m in– all colourful spectrums aside.

10. Character driven or plot driven stories?

Er.. both? I mean, a story is made of both plot and character.. so I guess it’d be incomplete if one dominates the other. *shrugs* Don’t take my word for it, though.


Nominees!

I’ll nominate five and the rest? If you’re reading this, have a blog and want to do it, just comment below and I’ll love to check it out!

  1. Birdie Bookworm
  2. Bookslayer Reads 
  3. The Fun in Reading Books 
  4. Clockwork Bibliophile 
  5. Maniac With Books 

I’m going to have to search for more book-lovers out there in the near future; but until then, I hope you all enjoyed my bookish rant and have a great day ahead of you 🙂

Love,

Midnight Ranter (aka Ayaka)

Ayaka in Wonderland (beware: majorly lengthy post)

Wonderland is supposed to be this fantasy Underland with peculiar characters and creatures.

 

Well, my Wonderland consisted of a fantasy I once drew in my head and that I suddenly saw painted in the real world. What’s that fantasy, you ask? Book kiosks, I answer.

 

Now lets backtrack a bit. My family and I decided that for the summer holidays this year around, we were to visit Egypt (yes, the place with the Pyramids and Pharaohs– cool place, people). The trip was rather busy and interesting; but being the bibliophile that I am, I set out to search for books there too. My first stop was this popular bookshop called Alf Bookstore (Alf is the first letter in the Arabic alphabet– don’t know what that has to do with books).

I went in and was glad to find a nook of good YA books as, apparently, the people there mostly just read Arabic books, so English stuff are rather scarce. Anyhow, the book that got my interest was The Martian. I’d heard good things about it and wanted to check it out; besides, it was the only book that I could get from there, really. Anyhow, I flip the book to check out the price, and God, it was for 160 Egyptian Pounds (13 point something pounds). In Egyptian standards, that’s not just high, it’s skyrocketing high. So my father advised that I let go of the book for now until I find another bookshop and compare prices.

 

Next stop: Shorouk Bookshop (Sunrise Bookshop. Weird names, I swear). Long story short, it’s the same scenario, with the same prices.

 

Now let me tell you, I was on the brink of giving up; thinking that I’d just get my books from the UK and that’s that. But nope. There was this glimmer of hope that shone through, known as Soor El-Azbakeya (Azbekeya Book Market; I don’t even know what to do with these names). What’s that, you ask? It’s a market, I answer. But for books, not veggies.

 

I don’t recall seeing anything like it before. It’s basically a street brimmed to every nook with books stands and kiosks and mini shops. Books everywhere. From the walls to the chairs to the grounds to, at some point, even rocks (they used it as tables, I think). To a book nerd like yours truly, this was fantasy coming true. My very own Wonderland.

 

But wait right there, it’s not heaven just yet. Why?

Because most of the books were bloody Arabic books! And the ones that weren’t academic books or classics, were books that I’ve already read *facepalm*.

 

At that point, I assure you, I was completely out of hope– especially so, considering the fact that I didn’t bring any books with me for the holidays, so I was a bit bummed about the whole ordeal. Standing there, basked under Egypt’s mighty sun (no wonder the Pharaohs were mostly half naked), you could say that any enthusiasm I had had just about evaporated.

 

But then I pass by it. It. The shop that not only answered my prayers, but also brightened up the rest of my holiday. It was called The Book Corner, I think (hard remembering everything in the heat).

 

I stroll in, brushing all the glossy covers under my fingertips, and skimming through the stands with my eyes. I saw books I’ve read, one’s I hadn’t, others I never even knew existed and all that was just too much for my bibliophilic self.

 

I ended up hoarding six books that I have wanted for quite a while but couldn’t make time for them:

-Fangirl

-Landline

-The Perks of being a Wallflower

-Beautiful Disaster

-A Beautiful Wedding

-We Were Liars.

 

And.. guess the price of all 6?

 

160 Egyptian Pounds. -_-

 

Anyhow, that was my little bookish adventure over the summer. I’d want to wish all those who started school a great year (I’m homeschooled) and I know I’ve been incognito lately but that’s because we moved houses and I lost my phone and was rendered without Internet access for quite the while. I’m back now though and I’ve truly missed this place.

 

Lots of love,

Midnight Ranter (aka Ayaka)

 

Of Love I Speak

I sighed and stared up above,
Gazing at the moon.
Was there a story in my love?
‘Yes,’ whispered the gales later at noon.

I sat on a bench and read a book,
Smiling at the teens’ story.
Was there love from a first look?
‘Yes,’ whispered the gales with all glory.

Where was it?
Where was that feeling?
That one that made you feel all lit—
And with bliss on the ground kneeling.

I feel it all shattered,
Broken down into little pieces.
I sometimes even wonder whether it ever mattered,
Especially when I found nothing in its traces.

Of love I speak,
And of it I wonder.
Do we all feel its peak?
Or do we just sit and ponder?

Hullo my most beloved readers! 

What did you think of this one? Did it have you wondering about Love as an emotion? Of it as an experience? Tell me what you thought of it below because I love all of your comments and I look forward to them every time I post:) (they’re basically why I post, I think). 

Signed, 

Midnight Ranter (aka Ayaka) xx 

We Wear The Mask

You know how when the sun shines from behind a building, it’s magnanimous structure hides off the light and form shadows?

It’s like.. The shadows tumble upon one another; covering up for their mistakes as they do so. They cower away from the sunlight, but really, the sun’s just too powerful for them. So they take the silhouettes of the broad buildings, masking their identities and mingling with one another in a vain attempt of coverage.

Just like us humans with our masks. We wear such masks daily.

And these masks? They cover the glory in us all; we hide behind them and because we all do so, we all become rather dull and boring. Sometimes, though, we wear a mask to make us shine more; but no matter how you look at it, an artificial light source can never win against a natural one. So break the stereotypical and take off that mask.

Be you.

And you’ll shine brighter than any and every star.

Thank you for reading 🙂
Midnight Ranter (aka Ayaka)

(Credits of the image go to its artist. And today’s a short piece, I know; but I’m currently on my deathbed with lungs that got amnesia and forgot how to function, one hell of a nose and a headache. So bear with me please and pray that I get better xx) 

Colour me excuse-less (huge rant coming up) 

Dearest reader,

Allow me to introduce myself in one sentence: I’m a person who looks at the world with colours.

Honestly, it helps you avoid judgement in an out-of-the-box way. It makes you want to paint a monochromic field with all the vivid pastels out there. And it makes you sort of happy too.
I see people as colours too, obviously. And you know what? It works. A blue person is one who is reaching for equilibrium. Peace of mind. A red one is one who’s richly passionate. A yellow one is bright and cheerful. A green one is kind and youthful. And the list goes on. (Check out my colour dictionary here.)

Basically, this is all an introduction to the real deal here. And my topic today is about excuses.

Now you might ask, ‘What do colours have to do with excuses?’ So my answer, dear reader, would be that seeing the world in colours is something that isn’t recurring everyday. You don’t find that around people daily. It’s something new, let’s say. It’s not repetitive. It’s not as old as an excuse.

When I tell you not to judge; you’ll find an excuse and say that you can’t help it; that there are certain aspects out there that are just so ‘judge-worthy’. My reply? I see the people as colours and so I can’t judge. *Excuse Failure*

When I tell you to be optimistic, you’ll find the excuse and say that the world is filled with dark secret and lies; and you, yet again, can’t help it. I, on the other hand, paint the monochromic parts with my brain and mind and make it all bright and new again. *Excuse Failure*

When I tell you work with a team, you’ll find an excuse and say that you can only work alone. Tell me, will you be able to make a poster without writing on it or even giving it a drawing? Nope, you won’t; that doesn’t make a poster. So I’ll tell you that nothing works alone on its own like that. Different aspects, different chromes and different resources are used. *Excuse Failure*

And now you know why colours are there. Because they just demolished weak excuses in the simplest of ways.

So what is an excuse?

It’s a hideout. It’s a getaway. And most importantly, sometimes, it’s a lie. It could be a reason put forward in order to conceal the real reason behind a certain occurrence. It could be a justification of a specific action or the like. But if you look at it that way.. Don’t you think that finding excuses is a bit dull? Don’t you think that it’s not exactly a good thing? Don’t you think that it slows down your daily activities and for no apparent relevant reason?

Take it easy and don’t stress it out; find no excuses. Come up with none of them. It’s just as easy to avoid the excuses than getting them and it’s even easier to just get on with matters in life.

But as always, thank you for reading 🙂

Midnight Ranter (aka Ayaka)

Moments to remember

I used to believe that saying goodbye wasn’t really a bad thing. In fact, it was, in a way, quite a good aspect. Because a goodbye means a new hello–it’s an opening to other chances; new beginnings and fun new facts.

But what happens when we don’t say goodbye?

What happens when we fade away and leave no trace of our remnants and then the people who care about us just keep waiting for us to return? Will they keep on waiting? Will they eventually give up? Do you think that in that way our worth, too, would fade away?

It’s the memories that are supposedly what’s left behind… But you know… That’s what could make you hate the concept of memories so much. They’re supposed to be of a golden touch. So strong yet so fragile. But in the end? They’re nothing. Nothing to people; something to others; and every thing to those kind and caring people who always smile and refuse to upset the people whom they hold dear.

We hold on to memories as if our whole lives depend on them.We build the future on the past; we live the present because of that very same past and we just depend so much on those memories; be it vivid or not; to the point that we get torn apart; because later on, we realise that people had moved on, leaving us behind to bask on the gleaming remains of the shared ‘memories’.

‘The best thing about memories is making them.’

But the worst thing about them is relishing them when they’re the most painful to bear.

So for those who believe that they are invincible; just walk up to them and tell them,”You aren’t.” They’d ask you why; so just look them in the eye and tell them that every person who hold on to a memory is, indeed, very much vincible. They could be our strengths as much as our fatal weaknesses.

What hurts are the matters you don’t foresee.
What aches is the hurt you didn’t want to believe in.
And what breaks is the memories that you always hold dear.

And that’s why; I both love and loathe memories, for they are the most troublesome of matters.

–Midnight Ranter

Say hello to New

My dearest readers,

Another moment of silence for this one trending thing in 2016, the year for all sorts of changes and discoveries.

Wondering what that thing is?

It’s ‘outgrowing’. How many of us just woke up and realised that something felt wrong? (and no, not because we slept in inhuman positions; I’m being metaphorical here). How many times did things just not ring true to our ears and we let it pass because we’re ‘used’ to it being so?

‘Outgrowing’ something or someone doesn’t have to mean letting go of them/it. It simply implies that the mindset becomes different; it’s altered; and you can’t blame neither parties involved for that. I repeat my words, ‘We humans are, by nature, contradicting’, often somewhat volatile, and greatly differing.

Sometimes, I like to think of us as jigsaw pieces in a great puzzle, or LEGO blocks; we only fit right in the place where we believe we belong. However, sometimes, the pieces seem to fit together and yet don’t make any sense. So just because you think that they’re compatible, doesn’t mean they necessarily are, and the vice Versa applies. Similarly, don’t blame yourself or others for outgrowing them, it’s not your fault that you’re different or changing. We have that capacity; the capacity to change. You know, we humans are so different from one another that I think the only thing we have in common is being different.

Makes any sense? No? Welcome to my life ✌🏻️

Midnight Ranter