an impromptu business;

   [ 10 April 2017 ]

This is a last minute birthday present for my aunt.
I just remembered her birthday before going to the evening Palm Sunday Holy Mass. She asked me when my Monday class will end, and if I will be able to make it to her house before 6 PM. She has been a real help for me in this city, so I returned the favour by saying I could drop by before dinner to celebrate her birthday.
Long story short, everything I do here, is completely spontaneous.
I stopped by at a mall to buy a nice frame and coloured paper then continued to make the card in the frame until midnight by hand. The next morning, I rolled the rose petals and set the frame as depicted in the picture while selling food for a campus event fundraising and finishing another assignment at the same time.
So yeah, the result is satisfying enough for a last minute gift.
{{ FAQ: 71st birthday? Are you sure it’s not your grandmother?

{{ A: You didn’t read it wrong—she’s my mum’s older cousin.

Hephaestus;

“How was your day?” he asked, handing me a piece of shattered glass on the floor. I raised an eyebrow on his unusually generous gesture, but deliberately accepted the chunk anyway. 

“Um, fine.” Careful, I thought to myself whilst gazing at the sharp edges. My eyes averted the glass shards and turned to him. “How about you? Did you get to reach your best friends for a weekend getaway?”

His head shook weakly, although his lips formed a slight crooked smile before he looked down on to clean up the mess.

“They’ve been busy.”

“Ah, that’s really unfortunate.”

He dragged another three to his sides and started gluing them together. At the same moment, I squeezed out the sticky substance around the edges and connected it to another piece.

“This is like solving a puzzle.” he muttered to himself and stared at my unmoving hand which held yet another glass glimmering under the dim light. I couldn’t tell what expression he had when he saw me—was it joy? Or mesmerised? Absolutely nothing at all? He was like a dead language—hard to read, but beautiful. The light began to move and framed his eyes.

“Hand those to me. I don’t want you to injure your fingers. You would get insane if you cannot touch the piano.”

It was worry.

(Inside, I was completely happy to hear that.)

It only took him several minutes to finish the work while I fidget with his sleeve in mischief. He grabbed my arm, cupped my hand, and put a slightly cold, hard but sleek-surfaced thing on my palm.

“Be careful next time”

It was then when realised.
In my hand, lain a fixed glass with a pointy end, glowing like it keeps a flock of fireflies within the now invisible cracked edge—my own heart.
                                           – c.l.

scariest thing;

i figure,

the scariest thing is

finding someone who

fills every spaces

even in

your most crooked crevices

with the thought

of not being their other half

                                — c.l.

break;

“If I weren’t a human being,” her lips were trembling. Trembling with fear, fear of whatever comes next as his answer. “… what would I be?”

The man gave her a funny look. He chuckled and stroked her hair lovingly, gently pushing her towards him even closer. Why would she ask a frivolous question attesting his means?

“You would be my promises.”

(That was a year ago, before he realised he couldn’t keep her as his own promises.)

tatap pertama;

Akhir tahun adalah saat-saat paling sibuk bagi fotografer seperti Baek Kihyun. Bulan ini, ia mendapat berbagai macam tawaran pekerjaan untuk sejumlah acara. Terhitung dari awal bulan Desember, ada sekitar sepuluh klien yang menjalani sesi pemotretan pranikah, tujuh acara pernikahan, lima sesi pemotretan pribadi, dua acara Natal, dan penutup manis bulan sekaligus tahun ini: sebuah acara akbar menyambut tahun baru di Seoul. Saking sibuknya, Kihyun memindahkan sebagian dari isi lemarinya di mobil—termasuk tiga setel jas, kemeja dalam berbagai warna, celana panjang, dan pakaian kasual—untuk memudahkan dirinya berganti baju setelah pekerjaan satu ke pekerjaan lainnya. Continue reading