𝑷 𝒆 𝒂 𝒓 𝒍

A new poem, "Do you have a poem?" has been added in my latest poetry collection. Give a read if your few seconds permit —
          
          https://www.wattpad.com/1603540520-traveller%27s-heart-do-you-have-a-poem

And when I take the violin on my arm, everything disappears.
          
          It's me, just me, the violin between my jaw and collarbone. I'm plucking them to make sounds, and the world just says, it's pizzicato, draw the bow across, it's arco. In between, someone's shouting.
          
          And the bass drops.
          
          Pin drop silence before the chaos starts. Somewhere you can hear the gunshots. Someone's huffing, someone's running, suddenly it's 2026 again.
          
          My fingers stopped midway,
          
          they say its fingerboard produces different pitches — I'm seeing the pictures change,
          
          they're dancing to a new trend, French travels to Arabs now, the pain became joy for the ignorant, but can't they hear the shrinking voice?
          
          Vibrato, vibrato, vibrato,
          
          It's a technique, notes varying through pulsating rhythm. Does it mean every note would change with the pulse of my rhythm? My notes are dancing as of now.
          
          And the world vanished into thin air.
          
          A child is crying, reciting before the ends meet, a child is crying for his father but his father never comes back. And me?
          
          I have just a violin between my jaw and my collarbone, fingers running between the strings, while the world dances on a grief stage.
          
          But God, I'm not a musician and you must not have any expectations.
          
          — Pearl, 01/15/2026.

Niaaaaaaaa

Hello how are you doing today ♥️♥️

Last poem of this year, "In the hearthstone of beating words." Give a read if your few seconds permit —
          
          https://www.wattpad.com/1599013979-traveller%27s-heart-in-the-hearthstone-of-beating

There once was a girl who turned into a woman, maybe not by choice but by nature—spending her whole life trying to be good, though being good is subjective. 
          
          Who's good anyway?
          
          We aren't good people, we aren't good daughters, we aren't good parents, we aren't good friends, but then again we spend our whole lives trying to be good at anything. 
          
          One day, she met someone who made it all worth it. After all, what can be life's biggest blessing if you can't even share your grief and happiness with anyone? 
          
          Grief, maybe, can be shared over a cup of chai or vodka shots with strangers you'll never meet again. 
          
          But success? The day you find someone who's ready to cheer for you loudest while sitting in the backseat, you'll know that day maybe you've made it. 
          
          Maybe you've made it when they're ready to see all your ugly sides—even throwing up at 4 am or breaking their hand bones while in pain. 
          
          One day, after their kids went on their own journey, she started to pack up her bags, leaving her stranger-reader-friends to wonder about her characters, all while living her best life with her partner—exploring the art and science of this world to make it poetry. 
          
          Her poetry, because she's home. 
          
          She lives her home all while leaving the world awed and wondering where she brings this magic of poetry from. She's still dribbling, scribbling, but nevertheless happy. 
          
          This is how she's gonna build her Roman empire. You just got a glimpse of it. 
          
          This year, I have plenty of reasons to grieve, but I'm thankful for the people who believe in me even when I was ready to give up on myself. 
          
          Did I have someone to hold me? Nope. But a few of my friends saw me break down completely, and yes, I'm thankful that you've given me that space where I knew that I wasn't alone—exactly what I needed most. 
          
          I was grieving, but I have gratitude today.
          
          Just know that I believe in you, I see you, your efforts aren't gonna be wasted. You're doing just enough as you need to build your Roman empire.

I have nothing to add, but honestly you are a good writer. I want to talk to you 

"I shouldn't romanticize my nightmares, I feel," I said to my partner. 
          
          "Uh-huh," he bites into the apple. 
          
          "Are you hearing me out?" 
          
          "Of course, but then again it's just the flipped side of dreams," he continues. 
          
          "Then what is it? Bliss of a dream? Or just a nightmare? You know last night, I dreamt of eating a cheeseburger where we met the old lady celebrating her husband's 88th birthday." 
          
          "I remember the melted cheese more, and the weird garnish the waiter served us. Besides, we just went to that restaurant recently."
          
          "Ah, right! Does that mean my mind is playing tricks on me? What's even a dream that doesn't let you sleep?"
          
          "Wanna have a bite?" 
          
          I narrowed my eyes at him. 
          
          "Just kidding. We just remember the same things but differently," he said while tapping my nose. 
          
          "Perpetual memory?" 
          
          "Maybe conceptual overall." 
          
          We shrugged it off. Maybe in every lifetime I was just searching for you, I thought.

A new poem, "The shadows speak" has been added in my latest poetry collection. 
          
          Yes, I am home again. Never ever have I thought that I would be away from writing like this when I have always held a pride of never getting writing blocks. But here I am because of my health and other things after 38 days.
          
          It's been more than a month I have published something here, it's been exactly 23 days I didn't write a poem until now, only to be confused on how can I publish a new chapter here? 
          
          Because I am mostly on the web version, looks like the app version got updated (don't know if it should be called regressed). Anyways, I hope y'all are having fun on the holidays. Please do share some love on my poem if you still remember me.
          
          https://www.wattpad.com/1598095548-traveller%27s-heart-the-shadows-speak

@preciouspearl20 Hell, yeah! Just have to work out the pay and benefits package, and wait till ski season is over.