Narcissus

Guess who is back from the dead? Me. I am. So, I am gonna skip the intro and jump right into the story. Yes, I am writing a story. Also for context, I am linking a video about Narcissus here.

GENRE: Angst

WORD COUNT: 1774

WARNINGS: gore, blood

'Hate' is a strong word. While scrolling through social media Adriana however felt only hate. She hated how all the models these days resembled nothing more than skeletons, she hated how all of them had every single facial feature in common; puffy lips, long legs, no flesh, and really really tanned skin. She hated how she was so motivated to create new art but could not find inspiration anywhere. Yes, indeed 'hate' is a strong word. Lazily, she opened her e-mail hoping to find something there. Her inbox was filled with people who either wanted to buy her art or be her art.

One rule Adriana strictly followed was that never ever draw celebrities. Don't associate with them and don't draw them. Keep your art raw. Real. Draw ordinary people, but unfortunately due to accession of Instagram models, everybody looked fake, robbed of all human features. plastic mannequins at best.

A particular name caught her eye while scrolling past her inbox. Ambros Grinaldi. The Ambros Grinaldi. The temperamental, egotistical, rude and very, very successful Ambros Grinaldi.  It was with great enthusiasm that Adriana found herself opening the email.

It did not have much information, all it said was that he wanted a portrait of himself on 7 by 15 inch canvas in oil. There was a number given at the end of the e-mail. Adriana nervously dialed the number. 

"May I p-please speak to Mr. Grinaldi? This is Adriana Carlton." She couldn't believe the words that left her mouth. Was she seriously calling Ambros Grinaldi?

"This is him." A deep, baritone voice replied from the other end of the line.

"O-oh right, I am calling to ask you about your enquiry regarding the portrait."

" You could have just replied on the email, but since you have called, would you like to join me for dinner to discuss the details of this project?"

Adriana choked on her saliva. Dinner. Ambros Grinaldi. Talk. The words seemed too unreal, she tried to hide all of her enthusiasm and sound as professional as she could and replied with a simple 'yes'

"At eight. I will send a car at your studio." He did not wait for her reply as he disconnected the call.

Ambros Grinaldi was a man of his word. At 8 p.m. sharp there was a car waiting outside the studio. Adriana wore her best dress and the most expensive pair of shoes that she owned but still looked like a mere peasant against the car. When the driver opened the door for her, it felt almost criminal to sit in the leather seat. Everything was far to tasteful for her laced dress and wedged shoes to touch. It was a thirty five minute drive from her studio to Ambros Grinaldi's vacation home. 

Adriana's footsteps echoed across the marbled hallways as she made her way towards the dining room. She had seen a lot of tasteful decor in her life but nothing compared to the cadaverous marble halls and the ashen curtains that decorated every Parisian window. The home looked more like a palace, cold and intimidating, nothing more than a display of wealth and power. 

"Mr. Grinaldi?" she squeaked as she poked her head through the doors of the dining hall. 

"Please, call me Ambros." He said as he stood up to receive his guest. Adriana smiled as she seated herself across from him. 

She was too awe-stricken to start a conversation. She marvelled at the marble dinner table that was covered with a black dining cloth. The table was perfectly laid with a white, ceramic plate and black silverware not because it oxidized but because it was supposed to be so.

"I take it that you are a fan of monochrome?" Adriana mused as she ran her hand over the fabric of the dining cloth. It felt smooth between her fingers, almost as if it were not cloth at all but rather a liquid. 

" Yes, I am indeed," Ambros chuckled. He poured to glasses of wine. He passed one to Adriana. 

"Follow me," He said as he led her through multiple sets of doors and winding staircases. He came to a standstill in front of two intricately carved doors. He pushed open the doors as he led Adriana in to the room.

The sight was breathtaking. Unlike the other rooms this one was full of colours and vibrancy.

"As you can tell, I am a patron of arts..." Ambros' voice trailed off. 

"This entire room is a collection of paintings of me, there are a few sculptures and statues, but do you want to know what my most prized possession is?" Ambros asked. 

Adriana looked at him with cat like curiosity in her eyes. The room was made of marble, like everything else. There were multiple paintings of Ambros hanging on the walls, the floor was decorated with multiple sculptures of him. There however was an empty space on the wall, a space that a canvas of certain dimensions could fill, the same specific dimensions that Ambros wanted Adriana to paint.

"Look, this is a symphony someone wrote for me. From the start till the end, this piece of music has been composed for me." Ambros said as he held sheet music in front of Adriana.

"I am sure it sounds wonderful, but unfortunately, I cannot read music." She said apologetically.

"Very well, I will play it for you." He said as he walked towards a polished vinyl record player that sat in the corner of the room. In a matter of seconds the room was filled with the melody of the symphony. It started with the melancholic tune of a cello to be later joined by the shrill pitch of a violin which complimented a soft piano playing in the background. The song started off as slow, one full of longing and desire and then took a sharp turn towards a maddening chaos of instruments that could portray only rage, the song then slowed down to an unsettling calm, with only the piano playing. It sounded like lost hope, 'succumbing to your demons' Adriana described it in her mind. The last part of the song took an unexpected turn towards an upbeat solo of the violin and a sudden ending played by the cello. Adriana hadn't realized but she had tears in her eyes and goosebumps on her hands by the end of it.

"I-It is truly a masterpiece." she said, still trying to bring herself back to reality.

"Speaking of masterpieces, I want you to paint me one. I will want it hanging there." Ambros said, pointing at the blank space on the wall.

Adriana nodded. "Send me some reference photos and I will get working on it immediately."

"No. That is where you are wrong. If you see carefully all the art here is what the artist perceives me as, you will have to get to know me and then draw me from imagination."  Ambros replied. 

Adriana nodded and followed him out of the room towards the dining hall. She thanked him for the meal and headed home.

After that day, dinner became a regular custom. Every night at eight, a car would wait outside her house, it was the same 35 minute drive and the house seemed as intimidating as it did the first time, every night. 

Days turned into weeks and weeks into months, in the same way small talk turned into exchange of opinions which then turned into confessions of love and sweet nothings.

Adriana worked on her masterpiece the entire time. One day it was finally ready. She picked up the canvas  and took it with her to dinner. She had stopped bothering about wearing rich clothing, sometimes even wearing her art smock to dinner, today was one of those days.  

She greeted Ambros with a hug. "I finally finished it." She said.

"You did?"

Adriana nodded with excitement. She dragged him to his artroom and revealed the painting to him. It was the best she had ever made. Ambros was depicted no less than a god. She had painted all of his features perfectly, from his chiseled jaw to his wispy black hair. He had pale skin and she used this to her advantage to add highlights to his well defined cheekbones and eyelids, concentrating blood there to give an overall rosy tint to his complexion. His eyes seemed almost unreal, with the deepest shade of blue and the lightest in the same iris. Her depiction of Ambros was that of Apollo, the Greek god of art.

"It is beautiful" Ambros breathed out. Adriana beamed up at him. 

He kept admiring the painting and stood still. After a few minutes he began to walk towards a door that she did not know existed in the room.

"It would be a shame, if say you were to create something of equal magnificence or something better,"  He mused as he led her into the room. 

The room reeked of the metallic smell of blood. Adriana brought her hand up to cover her nose and asked "Ambros, what room is this?" 

The only reply she got was the sound of the click of the lock of the door.  An unsettling sensation started to build in her stomach as the smell of blood became even more intoxicating as the minutes passed by. Ambros roughly grabbed her wrists and dragged her to table. The wood was covered with blood stains, the polish had worn off a long time ago, and the table top had scars from the multiple times a knife had been slammed on it's counter.

Ambros pulled out a butcher's knife from the drawer of the table.

"Ambros, what are you doing?!" Adriana shrieked. 

He held her wrists on the table as he rubbed the blade of the knife across his white jacket. There was a strange madness behind his eyes but it was enough to answer Adriana's question. Suddenly all the paintings in his room made sense. The one with demons chasing him, demons consuming him and the one in which he was a demon himself. 

"I am ensuring that my painting was the only masterpiece that you made." He said as he raised his knife.

"Ambros, don't! Please don't!" Adriana begged with tears in her eyes and fear in her heart.

"You said you loved me!" She screamed.

"True, but I love myself more." Ambros said as the knife slammed down on the table with a sickening thud, cutting away every fibre of bone, flesh and cartilage along with it and leaving a fresh scar on the table amongst the many that littered it's surface. 

nothing.

If you met me a week ago, you would be aware of how terrified I was of the word 'nothing'. If you think this is an article about how I conquered this highly irrational fear, then I suggest you stop reading now. This is not about how I overcame it, it is about how I came to terms with it. 

This story starts exactly how every young adult novel starts, with a girl who is horrible at being able to live a normal life because she is extraordinary, only exception is that the girl is me and I am not extraordinary. I am as ordinary as I can be. In fact I might have put 'ordinary' to shame with my 'ordinary-ness'.
I have this insecurity that haunts me every waking moment of my life, 'what if I am not good enough? smart enough? below average?' That fear is totally valid, I have never in my life been an over achiever, to be completely honest, I have never been an achiever in general. I dreaded what any other super average human would, academics. Unlike most average humans, I unfortunately have an affinity for smart people. So while I drowned in the complete and utter failure that my life is, I also had to witness all my peers succeed in life, achieve fantastic results and all the while like a sad little rock I kept sinking to the bottom. 

If you think that being with my friends would have motivated me in anyway to try harder then you are wrong again. I quite frankly enjoyed the view from down below. I felt content being 'nothing', in fact seeing my friends achieve wonderful things made me feel exactly what I would feel looking up at stars at night. Satisfied. This is one of the worst mistakes I have ever made because as soon as I accepted that I am just not that kind of kid, I gave up altogether. 

NO! Not talking about suicide attempts when I say that I gave up. I gave up on trying to better myself. I became indifferent to everything around me. If I didn't care about my future earlier, then I don't know how I will express what went through my mind about my future then, because quite frankly, I stopped considering a future career or life altogether. I became that bimbo who lives in the moment, as fun as that was, it wasn't meant for me. 
As established earlier, I could not afford to do that because I don't have the universe looking out for me, I am just ordinary. 

While living my party of a life, I was slapped in the face with the realization that people around me think I am a nothing. I am not valued by my 'oh-so smart' peers because I can't score like they do. I hated this thought. I knew for a fact that I was not stupid. Yes, I was bad at academics, yes I never woke up with the idea for an invention that might potentially save the planet to compensate for my inability to score according to the terms of a common assessment, but that did not mean I was stupid. I was simply a nothing. Neither a brilliant kid, nor a dull one. Not talented in any art, but I wasn't bad at studies, I just wasn't excellent. I was just a nothing. 

Not being taken seriously was what woke me up from the lovely lie I was living in. If I was a nothing, I would redefine 'nothing' altogether, be the best version of nothing. Who ever said 'hard work is the key to success' was a very good conman. 
One can work themselves numb, but their success can not be defined. In my boards, I scored the most that I have in my entire existence of 15 years on this planet and yet somehow I was still unhappy. I found my success to be nothing compared to what my peers scored. I forgot this minor detail that they have always been good at their academics. It was forbidden for me to dream of achieving as much as them, being a nothing does not give me the privilege to dream so high.

Being a nothing, I should know that a 90% cannot define me, neither can a 99% for that matter. I can be defined as a zero (having nothing) or a 100% (having nothing more to achieve.) 
I was way to far from zero, it would be to much work to reach that number. However, the same cannot be said about the hundred. Seeming like the easier alternative, I picked the latter. 

I would like to conclude by saying that, if only this realization came to me earlier I would have been much better at being nothing. So, this article goes out to all those people who are a nothing like me, who are so terrified of being a nothing and those who don't know how to be a nothing.

Wishing on.. *fill in appropriate word*

So here's the thing. I believe in wishes. I'll give you a few seconds to judge, then I will continue.
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Right, time's up! So, yes, wishes. I have always believed in wishing on eyelashes and birthday candles. I may or may not have tried to steal other kids' birthday wishes too, I'm just saying.. Not the point. 

I was sitting in the park with my friend. It was dark and we were looking up at the sky. I would say starry sky but the pollution levels of the 21st century prevent me. The irony of this whole scenario is, the both of us are well aware of how futile it is to look for stars, but that is what we were doing. We saw on airplane. Well, the blinking light of one. And then it occoured to me, instead of staring up every night, hoping to spot a shooting star, or even a star for that matter I  would rather wish on airplanes. 

No, not because it is easier, but because it makes more sense to do so. Times are changing, people are evolving and now as sad as it is, being able to see stars are a luxury. Airplanes on the contrary are as easily sighted as shooting stars in the early 18th century. 
One more thing to keep in mind is that, as people we need to evolve from wishing on natural phenomenons. 

I didn't write this article to justify wishing on airplanes, I wrote it so that I could speak about wishes in general. No wish is truly impossible to achieve. For example, I have wished for mostly material things and sometimes for the happiness of near and dear ones. The thing about these wishes is that I don't necessarily have to have a magic wand for them to be granted. I can work for them myself. And these thoughts are exactly what makes me believe in wishes. They are not as unrealistic as a genie in a bottle. They are simple things. Really simple things. 

Let me express this in better words. Consider a shooting star or your eyelash as a vessel. When you make a wish you add something to these vessels. And then you send them away to the great beyond where you hope these wishes will come true. The next time you do this, think of it like this, Your wish is a goal. It is as significant to you as an item in your to-do list. Everytime you wish on something that is sent to the great beyond, consider it being sent to your future. 

I know I sound like I am all tipsy and probably had one too many glasses of wine, but believe me that is not the case. Right now I am struggling to express my thoughts because what I am talking about is something that I can't make sense of myself. I find these thoughts very complicated to comprehend, sometimes they end up giving me a headache. Okay, let us pick up where we left off, your vessel is in the future. Now what? Now, you look for it. If it were that easy to get what you wished for then you might as well believe that one day you might find a genie. You made a wish, and then in your future you looked around for it and when you found it, you felt really content. 

Content about what you ask? Content about the fact that in this whole wide world you alone are capable of achieving things that you so desperately desire. When I say alone, I say it assuming that you know that you are not supposed to tell anyone what you wished for. And if that is not it, then maybe content about knowing that somehow you know yourself well enough to wish for things that you can truly get.

If you are one of those people who just don't believe in wishes because "they never come true." Then, I would like to ask you, did you bother searching for your wish? Because when I say it is in the future I don't mean it awaits you in 20-30 years from now, I mean that it can come true in the very next second too. All you need to do is believe.

To conclude this very complicated thought that I tried phrasing in extremely easy words and failed miserably, I would like to say that starting now, I suggest you start wishing. Wishing on stars, scars, eyelashes, trains from under a bridge, birthday candles, dandelion fuzz or even airplanes for that matter.

Basic concepts for a revolution

You know how I write articles about letting women and girls be themselves, wear whatever they want and do what pleases them, and in the midst of all this I just assume that people will understand that it is applicable for both the genders? Well, you will be surprised to know that people lack the basic brains to understand this concept. I am just really angry at the moment, so I am apologizing before beginning. This article may get a little aggressive.

And also, boys, I am so sorry that I didn't realize that people are actually stupid enough to not understand these very basic concepts. I'm sorry that I didn't write this article earlier. Just so sorry.

*sigh.* Let me try my best to say this in the nicest way possible. 

STOP CALLING YOUR SELF FEMINISTS IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT MEANS!  IT IS NOT ONLY ABOUT UPLIFTING WOMEN BUT ALSO ABOUT EQUALITY, AND HOW ARE YOU CONTRIBUTING TO THIS IF ALL YOU DO IS SET NEW SOCIAL NORMS FOR BOYS WHILE BREAKING THE OLD ONES FOR GIRLS?!

I know, there is one question that is probably nagging you right now. What made me so mad? Well, to be really honest I have been hearing things like "kpop is gay." and that kpop idols look gay. And frankly speaking, I was pretty immune to it. Like 'haters gonna hate' kind of a deal. But then, one day I was telling my bestfriend about my undying love for Jeon Jungkook and she says "no offense but, he looks gay." And no, I am not mad at her, but what she said made me realize that it's not 'haters gonna hate' that makes people call kpop idols gay, it's actually the very very stupid social norms they have hardwired in their stupid brains. I'm sorry, that sounds rude. but in my defense I warned you before I began. 

Also, I wouldn't be this mad if it was just that she had said, but oh no. This is what happened. I sent her the photos. She said he looked gay. I said, you can't judge his face, he is a different ethnicity and not all good looking guys look like Westerners or Europeans or even hunky, bearded Indian men. She then says, that it is not the face, it is his body language. Firstly, however did this genius person manage to decipher the body language of a person from a photograph?! Secondly, gay people don't have a different body language, they are normal people who like people of the same gender. That's it. really, that's all there is to it, I am so sorry to disappoint you. And then she says his earrings make him look gay. So, according to this logic, girls have the right to wear whatever they want, but it is somehow not applicable for boys? And lastly, she says he looks like 'hoshiyaar khan' who was transgender in a tv show. And that royally pissed me off. She does not know the difference between transgenders and gays. 

Now now, I don't hate her, neither do I blame her, it is okay to not know. In fact right now, all I want is her forgiveness for including the above paragraph. The thing is, I really cannot deal with this. It angers me. Really angers me. Boys should be allowed to be themselves. It is a very basic right. Let's call it the right to expression.

 A boy can wear makeup, know why? Because makeup is not girly, it is to enhance the facial features. To highlight certain details of the face. And since, boys and girls both have faces, both of them can use makeup.

Earrings too. They are pieces of jewelry. Everyone has a right to wear those too. If boys are "allowed" to wear bracelets and chains, then they sure as hell are allowed to wear earrings. 

Looks. Let's be real. No one looks flawless. No face is girly, no face is manly. A face is just a face. A face is simply bones, muscles and some important sense organs together to help make life easier. 

Body language is again not different for different genders. I mean, if you can all fight about letting a girl sit the way she wants and walk the way she wants, its okay for boys to do the same too.

Lastly, the word 'gay' is not an adjective. it is someone's sexuality. And if that is a big word to absorb then treat it like another gender. So, the next time you want to call someone or something 'gay' think of it like this: "That picture is so boy" or "That boy is so girl." Doesn't make sense? Well, neither does calling someone gay for no reason. Or to be more specific neither does calling someone gay because they don't fit into your ideal type of 'boy' or 'girl'

And as I conclude this little venom spewing, too bitter to swallow and really rude article, I will like to leave all of you with one thought: Everyone wants change, but are we really working towards change if we are breaking out of social norms only to impose them on someone else?

Being addicted to the K-pop drug.

Hi! I am back! My exams are over and I can finally write! Okay, so although I am not being totally honest, my exams have been over for a while now its just I didn't feel like writing. Anyways, let me just start with this article. 

K-pop. What is K-pop? Well, it stands for Korean pop and it is addictive, that's why I am calling it a drug.  People will wonder, how can someone be addicted to music in such a manner that it starts to actually become harmful? I have no answer to that question. It is what it is. K-pop is a totally different type of music genre its not like your plain ol' vanilla pop it is way better and if I am being totally honest, I don't understand most of it. 

Before I start voicing my various theories on the genre let me first walk you through how I got addicted to it. (it may get a little dramatic)

Some time in November, 2017: The day it all began.

The day started as any other day, little did I know that this was the day, my life would change forever. I never knew of the evils that lurk in the darkness of this world. I never thought that I would ever be a part of that dark world.  It could never occur to me that my own best friend could do something like that to me. She sashayed into my house with her ancient mobile phone and forced me to listen to these demonic group called BTS. I hated it, and if I could go into the past right now I would go and slap myself really hard for hating it.

Mid December, 2017 : The first time it hit me.

After she introduced me to this dangerous drug that drove me to the brink of losing my sanity. I came face to face with terms like "bias", I never felt the need to use words like that because I had never been faced with picking a favorite. I had started understanding the mesmerizing language of these demons from hell. I had also come to understand that these demons disguised as angels to fool the innocent. I had started singing along.

January, new year: The drug is changing me.

I never thought I will say this, but they make me want to dance. They make me want to learn their dance choreographies. On New Year's eve all I wanted to do was dance to their songs. I couldn't bring myself to dance to anything else including 'Despacito'. Everyone dances to that song, but not me. I craved 'Blood, Sweat and Tears' by BTS.

Mid January, 2018: I get introduced to a new drug 'English Speakeu.'

I think it has finally happened. I, Annie has finally cracked. I found myself watching BTS speaking english, and blushing. Yes, I blushed. Those boys make me smile. They have changed everything I thought I knew about myself. It is not normal anymore. It is unhealthy. If I don't make it, just know that I never intended it to go this far.

February, 2018: I think I have forgotten english.

If  not forgotten, then most definitely forgotten how to speak it without it sounding like Korean. The way I speak sounds like Korean, my accent has been affected. 

mid Februry,2018: Withdrawal symptoms.

I thought of getting over it, I couldn't. It made me cranky, I tried, I really did. I didn't want to be addicted anymore. This is beyond my control. I can't put up with this anymore. I think I will go back to it. 

March, 2018: I now know who I love.

It came to me slowly, but now, I know that I am in love with Jungkook. Things will never be the same again, he has affected me in so many ways. He is perfect. In fact I don't think I will ever like any other boy. I don't find any guys from my country attractive anymore. My standards have become higher, if speaking to me was difficult earlier, it's impossible now. All I know is that Jungkook is the one for me, no one else.

Yay! So, now you know my journey, although highly exaggerated, it gives a little idea of what K-pop does to people, or rather what it did to me.

Here are my various observations:

1. It is marketed as a very innocent genre:

Very rarely have I found any song about any dark, shady topic, there is no song with abusive words in it, no song about sex or drugs or any other thing that may become really awkward to listen to in the presence of your parents.

 Speaking of innocent, the idols also maintain a very boy-like or girl-like personality. They dress in clothes that make them look cute and innocent rather than hot. What I love about K-pop is that the guys don't try to become hunky and "manly" the way Harry Styles or Niall Horan just changed. The little boy personalities really suited them.

2. The lyrics are beautiful rather than just being meaning less.

The song lyrics are genuinely beautiful, they have meaning and depth and more often than not are about addressing some social issue. Another thing I love about it is that body positivity is a topic that boy bands sing about and not just girl groups. In my opinion it is really important to talk about it, I mean the beauty industry is everywhere and is doing what it does best, making beautiful people insecure about what their looks, and in a world like this it is really important that people who have a large fan base talk about getting over these issues.

3. They dance.

Their dance routines are wow. They are not like any average pop star who doesn't dance, just holds a mic and sings. They dance. I really respect that, their routines are super tough and they sing while dancing and they still don't breathe heavily. Their singing doesn't show that they are possibly really tired because of their dancing.

4. They are humble. So humble.

All of them work so hard, but consider themselves no better than their fans. They live like ordinary people rather than rich, bratty pop stars and that is something you don't get to see very often. They talk about working hard and not being good enough in their live streams, they say that what they do is no big deal and that they should work harder. I am in awe of these people.

That aside, just between you and me, I have realized that I know these people so well, I know exactly what their personalities are and who they are, although I have never in my life met these people or spoken to them. That is the power of the Internet. 

Before I wind up, let me tell you who my favorite groups are and who all are my bias.

1. BTS

bias: Jungkook

2. Got7

bias: Mark Tuan

3. Big Bang

bias: G Dragon

4. T ARA

bias: Boram

Also, some song recommendations:

Blood, sweat and tears by BTS

Lie by Jimin

Bang bang bang by big bang

Sugar free by T ARA

Ice cream cake by red velvet

Never ever by Got7

Literally anything by BTS

Overall, why some people hate K-pop is beyond me. 

K bye.