the Parasite

1. Prologue

Let me tell you a small story. Once I had a very happy and helthy family. Everyone are so blissful and satisfied. We had a nice home there at the centre of boundless farming fields where we used to sleep peacefully. We always honour our wind and water. We often greeted our fellow animals, spend our sunsets with them. We celebrate over rainbows. One thing that passed down through ages is our belief that creation is our mother and her descendants have same rule of living.

One day, one man who toiled under thousand years in the glaciation of polar mountains and another thousands of  years in the hot dry arid deserts has come to my home. We gave him food, we gave him cloths, we gave him our cot to sleep. Thus he slowly become one among us. But we do not want him to live by tolerating our beliefs and morals, so the man and his folk had given some of our land, now they can live a life of their own. After all we believe nothing in the nature is mine, but ours.

In another day, the man come to me and politely said ” the way you look, the way you eat, the way you laugh, the way you cry, the way you think, the way you live, the way you pray, the way you born, the way you die, the way… are so polluted “. I don’t know why he said that, but for me, he always seemed to be a wise man. So I said nothing.

Next day the man decided to detoxify us without our regard. I don’t know how to defend him. This is a strange thing for us and we gave up even  without a brawl. Then the days hit hard and hard on us. Firstly throw my god into trash, then ranked us in their kind of way, they change our names, they threaten our women, they stolen everything from us and we’re starved under the hot sun.

But still there’s a magnificent thing about us, we realise who we are, we protest, we wake up!

“Your current reality or current life is a result of the thoughts you have been thinking. All of your life will change as you begin to change your thoughts and feelings. This is a story of the power of untold right thoughts upon which I wake up.


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To the shortest thing in my life

I’m being the best smarterrichersexier and popular than rest of human beings. Spending all my life in a wonderfully fulfilling job that save my planet one day. Being such a complex man is amazing. Life becomes selfie-ready to bang all the day. But’…

To generalise is to be an idiot I can’t even think of affording a smile right now haha!

Because you need a dream.. a plan.. work hard and most importantly money or right that people around you. Or you will ended up like me or that one looking in the garbage for food…..

Their world is organised, it’s own meeting places, customs and traditions, their libidinous lust! Yes, I don’t have goals. I don’t have talents. I don’t have things to be happy. Yet.. I wake up every day?

I survived halfway between being here and gone. I settle for the thought of calling her on the phone. Her melancholic smile…

She is not in the rainbow, she is not in the rain. She claimed to love the poets with her eyes passion bright. But I never speak lightly to her. My words never support her thesis. And… on my worst days “I am a poet!”


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She hide my sky in her eyes. She seemed like a friend, sometimes more than a friend until I thought about the pain if something went wrong.

Stay. Was all I really wanted to say…

She walks in beauty as night
All the best for the dark and bright
Meet her in the aspect of her eyes.


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An Alt-Ant

I saw an ant. He is sitting on my nose. So unlawful. And.. just a title before I kill him, I think about his life, family and his rule of living..

May be he is a family man, love to travel, love to be home. He may loved everyone. But’ what if he is an orphan??

May be he can play a little violin, he may wrote poems. A charcoal artist. But’ what if they call him “dump”??

May be hundred times he’ve been interviewed, still jobless. Empty pockets. But’ what if he still think of ruling the world??

May be he is an introvert, he may find his dream girl in the real world. Her endless love. But’ what if he is broken??

May be he said ” I’m broken” and wished someone to hear him. But’ what if no one loved him??

May be he had friends. A smiling friend, a loyal friend, another friend. A sister. But’ what if he is in the second stage of PTSD??

And why do he come to me?

May be he want to know the story behind my tattoo. My story? But’ what if he came to know that??

Damn.. I killed him.


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God Online

I walked to my door.

I find it so impossible to understand the gravity of his age.

My surname was burning unbroken in his voice.

His dreadful potential sound is hurting everything around me.

I pendulate between mania and depression, opened the door.

A Salesman !!

And I bought a ripe phase of the word Isifo

Miranda #4

“I miss her. Mostly I miss my broken heart. Everyday, It’s another morning, sun came out, it’s the usual, no sweet words, no kisses. I won’t know.. what she is going through now. I guess.. I never know!

I stop looking for her in other girls, i can promise you it will never happen again. Still… I… I..” With the wetness on my cheeks i can touch my pain.

“Have you ever cried?” I smiled at her.

“I find good witches and bad witches. But’ I must confess most of the witches i have ever loved were respectable, indeed, kind with their actions. I almost cried.. because of them, but then only i remember how expensive my mascara is!!” She show me how sincere and careful one could be with her words.

Then she started singing a hunting song, tunelessly. And I’m about to sink in to each letters of her…

We were all

So damn lost

So damn blind

All looking for meaning

They will never never find.

I know, a young girl

In a small town

All she think about is

To get on a plane

Out of this hell.

How many times…

You sad and still smiled.

How many times…

You toil to feel the cold rain.

How many times…

You couldn’t look to a eye.

How many times…

You hated goodbyes

How many times…

You were dead.

How many times…

If you could do it again

I would gladly make

My same choices again.

And if I did, would

You still have left?

No regrets?

I stood as still as statue

Stared through the window

Thousand stars sinking

Eyes glowing in moonlight.

I whisper…

How could you gone;

When I needed you most.

Feel your love.. a love –

Stronger than time.

I feel like mis-alligned all my answers, and noticed when she got that last question for me. “Are you hoping?” She said. It is unanswerable. Answer is inside, reflected in the silence.

She laugh out loud. She laugh out again. Hugged me tightly. She then kissed on my chest.

“Hey dooli, Your redneck Airbus… This is his car shop” She pointed a car shed right behind me.

“Mm” I rumbled.

She pushed me in to the shed with all her muscle power and started walking. Not even a goodbye!

“I’m going back today” I never said. May be she never cares.

I wouldn’t wait for her to off my site. I walked in to the shed, never turned back. Somehow she cultivated a bohemian me.

I saw a girl. The way she moved, changed the way I see the world.


© 2018 Nagstrong12

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[all the images are taken from]

Miranda #3

The purpose of my visit was done. Some pure joyful days.. especially Mad Boingus. The peoples with salt on their heart. I wish to say a ‘good bye’ to Miranda. With a struggle to find a good portable final word i walked down the stairs.

She is the best part of Boingus, but’ i don’t know which part of Boingus. I don’t know whom to ask. I know nothing!! Still there is some feelings that drive me to say that odd good-bye. I meet people who see them in very large playoff in a gambling game, especially the largest available. Uhh.. then i meet her. Charming careless girl.

I walk along the street, it will lead you to B-Square market. Mr. Airbus is running an automobile shop there. May be he knows something about her. While walking, i notice the bumper stickers on many cars that read something like “my other car is broomstick”. Well no wonder!! this is MAD Boingus.

The billowing clouds welcomed me to the B-Squre market. The market is famous for the warm mediocre quality of food, endless.. endless amount of coffee, the essential meet lover’s skillet and notable Lapis lazuli ornaments..

I slowly walked through the market. And reached a impossible – to – operate crane, probably at the centre of market. The steam crane has a beast structure – majestic appearance. I look straight through, between the latticed segmented boom, I sensed her, Miranda!! What a mechanical advantage!!!

I take a breath and walked to her with a desire of ‘hi’. She smiled as she noticed me. Her lips glowing in lanolin derivatives oils. A yoga pants and pony tail. She is a gallery owner, selling her own paintings there. Rendered in soft washes of water colour, her illustrations charmingly capture the beauty and intimacy of young couple with a grand gesture of love.

“So you are an awesome painter” I smiled.

“Hmm.. some days i paint all day long. Some days i sell my art, so can afford to eat” She replied with zero pride.

As a matter of fact I don’t know what to speak next. I simply go through her paintings. My mind is manipulating. Still I can’t offer a good word.

“Why do you come here?” She sound like halt! Who come here, state your business!!

“Because I.. I come.. I want to meet Mr. Airbus!!” Yes I blundered.

Ahh! He is probably in the Arc door. Let’s Go.. “ She said in a platonic sense. Twist after twist, she is coming with me!! Well I followed her.

“How is your day?” I asked.

“And when do you left yesterday?” She played it by ear.

“Sooner than you think” I improvised.

“Hell ya.. ” She retorted. “Then why you come mahn.. Is your mumma asked to buy sweets in the taphouse??”

“No! I won’t prefer parties. I feel overwhelmed in the presence of strangers noisily gathering around me” I replied firmly.

“Thinking kills partying” She dejected.

“Not a big secret, Of course, Letting go and being crazy is partying. I won’t love it to pull my mundane logicality” I replied again.

“Ooh gosh! Not sure how I’m supposed to feel about you. Avenged? Proud??Haha ” Her frown turned into a
laugh like she saw a clown.

“Ummm….. Lemme tell you!” I said. “But’ tell me your conspiracy theory”.

“how much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood!” She dashed some words.

“What??” I goggle whether she’s chewing fire or what.

“how much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood!” She repeat.

“Go!! and eat some SAND” I pushed on her face.

“Okey, and tell me how much sand you can eat? Mm.. Mmm”

“Huhu! I eat sand. I can even eat homework eating unicorn. Humm.. “

“Really!! I love unicorn.. Okey tell me your sixth favorite animal?

“Sixth, JELLY FISH!!” I bite my teeth.

“Do jelly fish got knees? How many how many

“Mm. Square root of negative four” Before she invent next muck, I closed her mouth tightly.

“I’m hungry. Please..” I hissed on her ears. She tap on my wrist, signaling a promise of being good girl.

“Do you like hot cheetos with mango pickle” She continued immediately after parole.

“Uhh! Can you stop this. Please….. ” Finally I apologized for nothing.

“Okey” She said. ” But’ tell me the weird place you have peeeeeed.. hahhaha!” She laugh out loud.

She run through the yellow street. No one cared of the pretty girl and handsome hulk. I chased her. It’s definitely OK to look at pretty girl here! She saw me laughed. We laughed…

She looked, why I’m smiling.

I smiled, why she is looking.

We whispered “lost love”

Miranda #2

The cold winter night made my parachute oil frozen to it’s soul in the bottle. My fuzz was in the air dancing in party mode. Today there a party in Bold Sphere street, Mr. Airbus was so excited about that it. I wish to make a night walk. I love night walks. Night time is the glorious time of universe.. She walk with a moon in her hand and there is something haunting in the moonlight.

Mad Boingus is not a hedonistic pleasure place of bikini girls dancing on the beach and partying the night away in a psychedelically lit disco. But’… yes the city is round the clock nightlife with vibrant live music scenes.. singular cuisines.. And the mad people who say “you could never buy the music in the store”.

After a pleasure walk I stepped into the pie – diagram area, that girl was sitting right on there at the point where my eyes first blinked!

announcement :

Nearly 25 years after the release of it’s eponymous Blue album, Weezer is still enjoying the success and rocking the crowds.. Currently the band is touring behind it’s eleventh audio album…

Woo… Yeah… Wooo yeah.. Weezer!! Weezer!! Weezer!!.. “

Every one is on their feet. Cheers, whistles, colour papers, champagne… But the girl look calm. I thought she must be in some sore, sitting, non-moving. She is like wearing a mixture of weird cloths and mix of different fashions together with a cup of champagne on the table, unattended. No wonder!! If she is a cynical too.

I wish i could talk to her, little awkward though. I take a glass of white sparkling wine just for the heck of it and moved to her.

Nice dress” I said.

Rainbow bowler hat yea!!” She sound like a punk rock to me.

I feel like you are carrying a beautiful name” I heartily exclaimed.

Miranda!! My name.. ” she mumbled.

Haha.. look around there’s so many Evans here” I said. “Look at that bunch of Aussie backpackers… Pretty cool guys

Yea true! Just some load of emo shit” she bellowed.

Ohh? So sonic! You could call it youth” I said while taking my seat.

We laughed and she move her cup of champagne towards me – offering??


She take some sips after making that tling sound with my glass. Uhhh.. so finally i managed to lick at the edge of glass.

So you don’t drink?” She said grimly.

I smiled. She nodded and grab my ugly mustache, twisting – twisting – twisting and tangled it. May be boingus way of punishment to temperance, I guess.

“Why won’t you join the party” I said.

” Ohh do you want me to join. Mmm..Mmm… ” she improvised.

I nodded be like i want see what you are going to do. She then stand tall on the chair and raise the quarter filled cup in the air.

“Uhhu-hhahha-hhoooh!!! This isn’t old weezer, this doesn’t sound like PINKERTON!” She nearly barked there. I slowly stand up from the chair and stared at her. She bounced from the chair and tapped on my butt.

“Hhaa.. when it comes to hitting chicks here, it does matter... when you are brown” she giggled and immersed in to the Tsunami of vibrants.

Airbus was wrong. She is not a waster. She is flamboyant, an exuberant girl..