Jaz | Saying : #1 e-Magazine

First e-magazine by yours truly. Coming out on 1st of July 2016.

Download it.

It's going to be legend,

wait for it,

dairy.

(actually, don't take my word for it. create your own opinion on it.)

l8r,

Jaz

#1 Ali on Osaka

(Osaka is a story I have been writing for two years. I don't remember how it all started and I also do not any idea on how to end it either. Maybe I just do not want it to end. So Osaka remains as snippets of never-ending stories. Btw, I wrote each story as a scene with a soundtrack. Hence every story will be accompanied with a soundtrack.)

Ali on Osaka

There was a myth saying that humans were originally created with four arms, four legs, and a head with two faces. Zeus, a Greek god, who was fearful of their power, decided to split these humans into two separate beings, condemning them to spend their whole lives to search for their other halves. I do not believe in this ancient Greek mythology of course, but I wanted to, I still want to. Somehow, I can’t bring myself to.

Osaka is a being that I cannot separate myself from. I will always gravitate towards her, come night or day, my choosing would be her. I would throw myself off of a cliff if she says the word. I wanted to believe that my condemnation from Zeus was over when I found her, I wanted to believe that she is the other half of whom Zeus had me halved from. Oh, there was nothing more that I wanted to believe more than that. But she is Osaka, she is all four arms, four legs and head with two faces all by herself. And my existence when I am with her, I would not call it as existence. Oblivion suits best.

Love stories almost always begin with the moment of the eyes of two lovers caught a glimpse of one another's’ remarkable beauty. In this case, let me begin mine with the glimpse that I caught of Osaka the moment I left her. The moment I last saw her. She was still beautiful, I doubt that I will find another beauty such as hers, so beautiful that it bled my soul just to turn my head away from her and her eyes. Osaka’s eyes were the loveliest amongst all other pairs of eyes I had ever set my eyes on. Her eyes were my universe. I looked into those eyes and I found home so far away from home but that day, when I stepped away from her, those eyes were empty as a black hole. Black and the universe that had once belonged to those eyes ceased from existence. She stared at me as if I was a stranger on a train. I could not tell if she was heartbroken from my withdrawal from her life because at that moment, she was as stagnant as a statue.

Osaka was the love of my life, the one true love of my life that I know that I will regret for the remaining years of my being for leaving her. But I fear of drowning in the universe of her eyes more than I fear that regret.

I know these all sound rather excessive, unreal and exaggerated but isn't love always is?

l8r,

Jaz

I Call Bullshit: Romanticism

Romanticism ruins love in so many ways. We expect love to constantly be constant despite all the 

changes an individual goes through in a relationship. We expect no matter how different we are now 

than who we were when we fell in love, we expect the feeling of love to remain.

Romanticism ruins love in so many ways. We are expected to love a person as a whole, accept every crevice of flaw that our significant other has even though we know that we cannot be okay with the 

fact that our significant other never shuts the drawer until it’s end. Even though we know that we will never be okay if our significant other throws their towel on the floor right after shower. We should be allowed to express our not-okay-ness because we can adapt, our partners could realize that these habits make us uncomfortable and try to adapt. But romanticism dictates that if we love someone, we love them. Despite the drawers and 

the towels.

Romanticism ruins love in so many ways. We expect for our significant to understand us no even 
though we do not even have a god damn fucking idea about ourselves. We bear the burden of getting 
to

 know ourselves to our significant other. How dare we. How fucking dare we let that burden fall onto someone we claim to love?

Romanticism ruins love in so many ways. We expect ourselves to love to no end. Falling out of love 

is not a question, is not a thing and is not something has any correlation to love whatsoever. Hence, 

we never acknowledge the foreign feeling that is trying to get out of our system, to let us know that 

we do not love this significant other anymore. We do not want to be with this significant other 

anymore. This significant other is no longer significant, this person is just other person. Romanticism led us to believe that falling out of love is not reason to leave our that person. So we cheat, we lie, we curse, we blame and we just let ourselves to be what we never want to be, unkind. Because being 

unkind is a far kinder way to leave someone than admitting that we fall out of love.

I know love. I have felt love. I have loved love. And I have endured love. 

But I fell out of it. 

Do not tell me that I do know love. Don’t you dare tell me that I do not know love for falling out of

 love is the greatest knowledge one can gain from loving.

l8r,
Jazmin

Word Vomit: The Art of Letting Go

Here's a question, is letting go of someone a selfish decision?

Behind every decision I have ever made, at the very foundation of that decision is kindness. So, every time the occasion for decision- making comes up, I will think to myself "what is the kindest way to go about this decision?" 

Some might say that in some events, kindness is not going to be an option but I disagree. Even in the most gruesome decision, kindness exists. It is our job to materialize it.

What I am trying to get at here is recently, I made a life- altering decision to let go of an important, most loved person in my life. It took me a long while to 

get a grip on my decision because I could not idealize the basis of kindness in the decision. How can it be kind if in the end, all I do is break someone's heart? How can it ever be kind if when I leave I 

know that my footsteps seeps pain into that person? But after reassessing the problem I realized that I wanted to be kind to everyone but myself. Why did I deprive myself from my own kindness? 

I want to be happy. And apparently, I deserve to be happy. And so I made a decision to be kind to 

myself. In other word, much blunt word, I made a decision to be selfish. Yes, it was a mean, cold and egoistic decision and I promise you, it was not a decision I made with any ounce of regret.

Loving, especially my act of loving discovered it's limit. Would I have been a much better person if I compromise the love and kindness that I have for myself to make sure that another person in my life is happy while I watch myself alter and deteriorate into a shadow of negativity, preying upon others 

and disseminate the negativity perpetually? Would that have been a far kinder decision?

I don't think so. Sometimes selfish is kind. It may not seem like so. But it is. 

Kindness that society wants us to selflessly provide is onto others. And that is not wrong. That act is indubitably noble. But society forgets to project onto us that being kind to ourselves is a selfless act as well. Be kind people. To anyone, anything, to everyone and everything.

l8r,

Jaz