Making fool of myself

wood light creative space
Photo by Miguel Á. Padriñán on

Be fair. They said.

I want to fare. I said.

Don’t just stand there and stare. They said.

Take a flight of stairs. I understood.

Reach another storey. They said.

Or maybe make a new story. I added.

Be a fowl is better than to foul. They said.

A fool would be fine. I guess.

Fly like a bird

I wonder what is it like to be a bird. To be able to see the horizon as much as I want. To soar the sky. To be able to travel across the continent anytime.

white and black standing on top of roof near another bird flying on the air under cumulus clouds during daytime
Photo by Pixabay on

“Don’t eat grasshoppers or you will choke yourself to die, Peter. I’m sure you don’t want to end up like your Uncle Ben.” Mom caught me staring at a grasshopper.

“Yes, mom.” I replied.

“Don’t play in the mud because we have to fly in a couple of hours.” I said it as mom opened her mouth, I remembered all the protocol she told me since I was an egg.

“I’m not an egg anymore, mom. I know what we need to do.” Dad arrived at our nest as I completed my sentence. “Hi, Dad.”

“Look at our son, he likes you more. What’s your secret, wormy?” Both of them smiled when they saw each other.

“I’m a good storyteller, I guess?” He winked at me as he mentioned it.

I’m lucky to have them. They train me how to migrate and how to avoid predators. Their approaches are so different though. Mom usually gives me a direct warning. Dad told me a legend such as “Icarus”, a human who able to fly but ended up burning his wing. He also told me a myth such as “Chicken Little”, a chicken who learn to fly with soda. I don’t know whether it’s true or not but I understood the message.

Anyway, sometimes I wonder what is it like to be a human. To be able to live in one place for a long time. To be able to move across the continent by sitting. To live a longer life.


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Let me read

woman writing on a notebook beside teacup and tablet computer
Photo by Tirachard Kumtanom on

Are you lonely?

Yes, I am.

Well, what are you waiting for? Come.

Don’t feel like it.


Ummm… You’re bad for me.


I’m okay being lonely once in a while.

Don’t you want to be up-to-date?

I do.

Don’t you want to be connected?

I do.

Don’t you want to be HAPPY?!

I do.

What are you waiting for?

Well, you see. I’ll be too attached to you if I keep going back to you. You’re not a silver bullet.

Are you not afraid of missing out?

Heck, I was really afraid of being left out.
Although, it’s better now. Begone. I want to finish the old book that I haven’t read three months ago.

Let the book go. She already served the purpose of bringing you joy when you’re buying her.

I fully agree with you on the purpose of bringing me joy but I want to understand how she writes. Goodbye.


I am. You’re the one who is called “smart”-phone, isn’t that right?

You’ll gain much more information through me.

Yeah and that’s the problem. When it will be enough? I bet your algorithm let you know what I might be interested in but not what’s better for me. Now, excuse me. I need some private time for myself.

I’m Sorry Dad.

“Dad, I’m sorry.” Carl sat across his father, looked down to the table.

“Do you fight in school?” Eric moved his gaze away from his laptop. He’s staring at his child.


“I thought you lose in a fight.” Eric chuckled.

“Do you want me to fight?” Carl wasn’t expecting this response.

“I hope you didn’t lose though if you had one. I trained you after all.” He continued.
“So, what was it?”

“I failed algebra III.” Eric didn’t flinch or give any expression.
“I mean I barely passed the course.” Carl looked at his dad trying to study him. None can be seen in his face. Eric didn’t ignore Carl, but Eric surprised that his son feeling sorry for getting a “barely pass” score.

“Congratulations.” That’s the only word that Eric can come up with.

“Dad, are you being sarcastic?”

“I would love to but not now.” Eric was proud of his son’s responsibility but he thought that he needs to address this result in a good manner.

“You’ve done your best and I knew how serious you are studying for the course itself. You enjoyed it. That’s good. Anyhow, I don’t expect you to be a mathematician.” Carl felt warm hearing that response.

“Heck, some mathematician that I knew even got a worse score in the past compared to you.” He paused and let it sink first.

“I’m proud of your math and your art.” Eric thought that it’s the right moment to clarify that art and math sat on the same level in his perspective. He raised his mug that being made by Carl a couple years ago.

Carl just realised most of his craft fill in the dining room. The wooden clock. The mug. The vase. Even plates, forks, and spoons. And the round wooden table. “I thought you use it because I’m your son.” Carl wondered.

“That’s partially true and your craft is wonderful.”
“Some of them was not perfect but they still serve their purpose.”
“We don’t need to buy stuff.” Carl almost touched before listening to his dad’s last sentence.

“So you’re not mad at all?”

“Why should I?! Math is important but you passed it. You’ve done your best. A test is just a test. I knew I worked as an engineer for a quite long time and maybe you heard me bragging about your math. You don’t have to continue my path. I also bragged your craft anyway. You inherit my skill and mom’s skill.” Eric suddenly stopped his sentence remembering something.

“I even failed my geometry once.” He leaned back and laughed.

“Seriously dad?” Carl’s jaw is dropped.

Let me prove it to you. Eric told Carl to wait while he’s searching for his old rapport.

“Are you okay then if I don’t want to go to college?” Carl screamed hoping to reach his dad.

“Sure. But you have to convince me that you have a prepared roadmap.” He answered with his old rapport in his hand.



Stranded and strangled
Cornered and buried
Dark and cold
Does anyone that I’m here?

Does he?

Look! There’s a light!

Days? Weeks? Months? I don’t have any idea.
We were used to be together before.
It was good moments.

It’s over now.

Plunge into this dark place after he met a new companion
Hate to admit that he’s better than me
No cord to be untangled
Noise filter

We were called headphones
Being old
Now we’re called wired headphones
Guess our golden era is coming to an end


“Mom, how do we know mistake is a mistake?” Phil hugs me when I just come home.

“Hmmm… A mistake is when something is wrong.” He frowns and thinks.

“Then how do we know which is right and which is wrong?” He looks really not satisfied with my answer before.

“We don’t.” I take off my shoes.

“We don’t?”

“No, we don’t know for sure. There is laws made by our government, rules to be obeyed in the school and other kind of order. … In the end, we feel it.”

“I still don’t understand, mom.”

Let’s see how could I explain to my 10 years old son. 

“Is killing a person is a good or bad action?” Let’s try with an example.

“It’s bad mom.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you told me so.”

“Would you kill James if I told you so?” Let’s try to make it more personal.

“Of course not, he’s my best friend.”

“Imagine that every person has best buddy so if we kill them, then their friend would be sad too.”

“Oh okay. I understand it now. It could lead their best friend to kill us too, right?”

“Correct.” I smiled.

“Mom.” Phil pull my sweater.


“I broke the vase before you came home, is it a mistake?”

“Vase is not meant to be broken, but don’t worry we can fix it, right?”

Phil nods.

“You don’t get hurt, do you?”

Phil shakes his head. “You told me to not hurt ourselves so I seal the area with a tape.” He added.

“Then let’s have a puzzle time. Grab a glue and I will gather the broken pieces.” His face is alive again.