The Muruku Murmurations

Every phase and season is a testing stage, a resist and repeat till we pass and graduate to the next grade. The regurgitation of emotions and feelings keep cycling through as we go through the arch of it. We all just want to say, "IT'S A WRAP" and move on to the next project. With that said, it is all about the process and the study period, the question is how much pressure do we put on ourselves and how well do we want to do in the end. Interesting isn't it? How our lives flow through cycles At various points we end up in the same place again. Like how we have to be tested In school, in work, in life Every season comes with a graduation Seeing how we fair going through the motions of Anxiety Uncertainty Scrutiny Surging adrenaline spiking Sleepless nights of contemplating Cycles of thoughts on our performance. The curtain call sounds the same Emotions course through our being Catching our breath after delivering our best in every act Singing our lungs out Wearing our

This piece was written for a HitRECord contribution based on this image . Record can be found here . It was written with the intention to capture the stillness of being when you are one with your surroundings and present with nature. Once in a day of a time where the world halted in its revolve Every living thing stood still, freeze-framed in this breath A streaming gust of wind that flows through the trees, whistle as it weaves through the branches Rustles the abundant crisp, lush leaves, every single one creating a symphony in harmony. This breath of sounds seep through my being Beat my eardrums to its rhythm, fills the spirals of my cochlea, flowing sound waves flood every crevasse of my brain synching my heart to beat as one with it. A surfing surge of peace soaks my bloodstream Turning any turmoil to green, not the colour of envy but tranquility Lifting my ribcage to float in the oxygen-filled air Feet taking root in the ground as the trees Being, existing and living as though my

In October this year, I am back to where I started. Processing a painful end of another failed relationship, having another bout of insomnia and broken by some incidences that happened in September. This all feels familiar like the creaking of doors and floorboards. Brokenness beyond ability to restore, Gears that do not work any more Creaking croaks that yell in a high pitch roar Nothing will ever sound normal like before. - Swit Marie 0621H 25th August 2019 #MurukuMurmurations

I really hate goodbyes in every context of it, never good at it and it feels like an unfulfilled driveby. Part of processing is accepting, allowing myself to feel which I couldn't do because I didn't want to face the realities of things and it was too dark to sit in my mind-pit. I let my thoughts run and tried not to self-censor when I wrote this. Tonight thunders with no sight of lightning Laying on the floor curled up in fetal form Skin grazing the chaffing carpet with every breath Fingers grasping empty air pockets Coddling a creeping sense of abandonment Weightlessness grows heavy Sinking into a hard cement floor Knees tucking closer to the heart Coldness circulates the body from the inside out. Dear diary, I am not good with goodbyes. Last words you heard were: "Is this vein sufficient for your entry and what is this cocktail?" Absent in anaesthesia Eyes blindfolded by white noise Everything was quietly ringing in the background. Swiftly, the doors open He escape