A Sense of Vellichor

Category: Uncategorized

  • Rhythm of Work

    I have a habit of developing the blues. It comes from nowhere. A wave of sadness turns into a tsunami, and instantly I’m being drowned under the weight of it all. It’s a natural disaster that occurs with no warning whatsoever… but sometimes, my head emerges from the water and…

  • Can’t Catch Me Now

    Perhaps, I am not the girl you write books or songs about. I’m far from perfect. I’m not the girl that gets the happily ever after, nor am I the one you spend the rest of your life with. I’m the girl used for character development, the one who builds…

  • Feeding My Seoul

    An amalgamation of unforeseen circumstances led us to where we were now. It felt as though we’d blinked and opened our eyes to the restaurant’s doors. “Seoul Garden,” the sign read. In the busy and overcrowded streets of Al Karama, the large corner restaurant stood out due to its calm…

  • Nature’s Gift

    Trees breathe life, books exhale knowledge. There is nothing more cordial to me than the sight and smell of earthly pine that engulfs old libraries. The reminiscent sense of vellichor. Faded ink spilled onto aged pages, ingeniously filling people’s minds with colouful imagery. Worn-out papers, redolent of dust and decayed…

  • The City of Emerald Stars

    Airports were a highly conditioned location, so it didn’t make sense to me that I couldn’t stop sweating. Even as I stepped onto the plane at 7pm. Even as the plane soared through the air and city lights disappeared into the distance like stardust. Complete darkness surrounded the plane, and…

  • Isle of Enchantment

    I had never seen anything so magical before. Every aspect of the island was like something straight out of a dream, and I never wanted to wake up. Goosebumps covered my body, and I wasn’t quite sure whether it was because of the cool breeze or the scenery ahead. All…

  • Agony’s Muse

    Pain. Pain and I are intimately acquainted… or is it illness? The lines blur, and I can no longer tell the difference. A throbbing pain engulfed my lower back, and it hurt to sit, walk, stand, or breathe, and I was left wishing the ground would open up and swallow…

  • Five Stages of Grief

    Seven years—this February—since my grandmother’s death. I fell to my knees in my room; the same room that was previously hers. Six, since the denial faded away. Five, since I found and cherished the scarf, inhaling her lingering scent. Four, since I dreadfully recalled not picking up her last call.…

  • Fragments of Fantasia

    Chaos Sunrays cascade down onto my skin through the classroom’s windows and I’m not too sure what to write. I have no excuse for it. I slept a total of seven hours last night, so why is my brain operating as if I’ve only slept for three? I’m at a…

  • Chronicles of Obstinacy

    Stabbing someone isn’t as hard as it sounds… or maybe I’m inexplicably stubborn. Calling my bluff has never done anyone any good, including myself. These memories come back to me in snapshots. It felt as if I were watching instances of my life wave over my eyes like a rolling…