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amarllyis

“After all…tomorrow is another day”

Welcome to amarllyis

Where hope survives when everything else has died.

Travelogue

Travelling to the ends of the earth

Recent Blog Entries

“We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.”

Great Divide

I want to mention at the outset that though I haven't been sharing individual blog post links on Facebook anymore, I have been here. I'm right here. It's just that I can't bring myself to go to that toilet bowl of a Web site anymore. If you're a regular, you'll know...

Who Else Could I Be

You wake up to the sun shining through a sheer curtain and look at the time on your phone. It’s 08:08 am. You contemplate why you need to do this, how you’re far away from home, and how no one will know if you go back to sleep and not emerge from the room at a...

I Wish I Was a Punk Rocker

Sometimes I wish I was the kind of person who would be consistent to the point of boring and follow the Korean skincare routine, finish all the products I had flown in all the way from South Korea, and be predictable to myself. I wish that I was the kind of person who...

One Day Like This

Disclaimer: This is an incoherent rant. Expectations have been set. I refuse to believe that art or literature is an adequate, all-encompassing expression for human life. It’s an excellent outlet and representative, of course, but it’s not comprehensive. Sometimes,...

Believer

From now on, I will grow quiet, gesture you in for potato soup I made just that morning. I will become small, steady like the flame in the lantern hung outside my dead grandmother’s house watching the forest fire in the distant with an implacable calm. I will change...

Feel It Still

The first time I found myself introduced to the thought as a coherent and verbalised expression was when I read it in a letter. It was a time of great contradictions. These words came like unannounced rain washing everything and leaving behind a dampness that just...

You Are Here

You know that all characters appearing in this article are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. It’s dark and uncomfortable. You’re in the middle of this darkness wondering which way life will go, which way this world...

Reminding Me

At one point they were standing outside the house of an old man who ran the garage where they had sought help. The house was doused in the glow of a small yellow light. The man's wife was frail and yet she filled the house. Their son had just come home. This was a...

Carry You Home

David Meyer can hear the murmur of his injured heart when he goes running. It takes him a couple of days to realise that his ears are ringing. Yes, he does have a heart condition, but not one that is so severe that its voices jump out of his chest and make themselves...

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