Jahan's blogs

This space is for my little world of blogs 🌍💫 I’ll be sharing all kinds of things— What I’ve learned, strange or funny moments, emotional spirals 🌀, my days, and everything in between. Expect the cutest emojis, a sprinkle of chaos, and a lot of heart 💕 Things I love: reading books & articles 📚, learning Korean 🇰🇷, psychology 🧠, journaling 📓, coffee ☕, long walks 🚶‍♀️, and music across languages & map; genres 🎧💿 I hope you enjoy reading these pieces as much as I love writing them 💌

[jahansmonogatari]

The rhythm of your cacophony that i stand by.

Your calm warning and ignorance to my words are making stomach knots out of guilt and fear withing me, far more than any scream of anger eve

“I understand you. I understand your distance, your silence, your struggles. But if you could care even a little, why hold on and still be cruel?”

This is an excerpt from my latest WordPress piece — a raw, unfiltered reflection on human connection, empathy, and the quiet pain of being overlooked.

[jahansmonogatari]

An empty seat across the table

It was last Tuesday when I bought Uno Flip, because the kids of my class were playing it together. I watched them from a little far, with a hint of a smile.

I was so happy when I got it at a discount, thinking I would play it with my brother. But my brother has friends, which I forgot. He has his own life, full of people with whom he hangs out.

I opened the deck of cards, flipped them through new, fresh, bright with colour. I laid some of them on my bed, and stared.

The rules are, you have to put the card down if it matches the colour or the number on the desk.

I always molded myself to match them, worked hard on every curve, every twist and turn, to fit. I did. Successfully, I did.

But then came the colour-changing card. The rules shifted. Some cards demanded I pick more, stacking up one by one. I was fine with it.

But in the end, everybody got their matches one way or another. And I lost, with 15 cards at hand.

I got out from my door to call my three friends, one by one, one of them my colleague. Everybody’s phone was busy. I smiled again and went back to bed.

One call returned, the colleague. I didn’t pick up. What would I say? That I wanted to play Uno, but had no one to play with?

The room seems darker today. It hides me well.

I wish I had made more friends at school. I wish I had not only promised to stay true to that one friend.

But she, she couldn’t. She has an amazing boyfriend, a roommate with a bitter-sweet bond. I know her fights, her exam dates, when she’s going home. But she doesn’t know I was in the hospital for two days, just last month.

I wish I had made friends in society. So what if they cursed, or had multiple boyfriends, or lived by different values? I wouldn’t have been sitting at my table, cards in my hands, with no one in the other chair, while the yellow light dims in the corner.

I wish I had made more friends in college. I do have one gracious friend, touch wood, one of the best things that ever happened to me.

But she has a huge family. She might not have many true friends, but she has cousins, acquaintances everywhere she goes, family gatherings, religious events, workplace friends.

She has it all. How can she come to play these silly, colourful cards with me?

I did try to make more. I was friends with a boy, an only child with working parents, lonely in a crowd, never fitting into the rhymes. I listened to his stories, offered my shoulder.

I got all the “I missed you,” “No one can replace you,” “There could never be someone like you.”

But still will you play Uno cards with me when I need you to?

At every place I’ve been, there’s always one friend to survive and thrive with. But will anybody come to play Uno cards with me?

I speak a lot people deny it. My friends without bodies, sitting on empty chairs, laugh and make faces

as how much I they have to listen to me talk!

I sing, dance, draw, write, read. Everybody asks “How can you do all of this?” No one asks “Why did you?”

I put the cards back in the box. Slip under the duvet. My pillow faces another rain.

And I another night, choosing not to waste it on sleep.

[jahansmonogatari]

Somewhere between us

 Is it how the things are going to be? Try to contact me when you’re in your subconscious state of mind, drunk, hm? While the other in consc

My new piece of heart on WordPress. Three years old but still feels fresh, it's just the same as finding an old treasure from my backyard

[jahansmonogatari]

A Catalogue of Ruins

Plucked the flower to ruin the garden,held the prism to ruin the rainbow,washed my hands to ruin the river,spoke a little to ruin the silenc

A little poem for the sinner.

[jahansmonogatari]

I start as a strong warrior. I try to put cuts, the same as you did once, and it throbs. I wound you as you did once to me, as I see you as…

"Two warriors stand on the same battlefield — one with an unharmed sword, the other with thorned hands. I wrote about love when it feels like both war and salvation, when the same hands that wounded you once reach out for help.

[jahansmonogatari]

Two warriors in the battlefield- one with the unharmed sword, the other with thorned hands.

I start as a strong warrior. I try to put cuts, same as you did once, and it works. I try to leave the wound you left once by you, as I see

Today I posted something that felt like pulling a splinter out of my soul.

Two Warriors in the Battlefield – One with an Unharmed Sword, the Other with Thorned Hands

A meditation on the imbalance of pain. Of how some bleed quietly, while others remain stainless.

Read it if you've ever held pain in your palms just to keep someone else's world safe.

#poetry #writing #truth #pain #emotions #soulpost #jahanwrites

[vexheart]

[jahansmonogatari]

Hollow room

I suddenly got the sense that after coming out of the home i forgot something, something is lacking when i walk the path to my destiny, some

A hollow room with a shadow of memories.

[jahansmonogatari]

Grieving Through Smiles and Nods

I wake up and immediately check my phone, in case I’ve got something important to check. I freshen up, trying to wash away the thoughts whic

Some grief lives in silence. In everyday routines. In the song playing during your evening walk. In the pause you take when the road bends near memories.

This piece is about a day like that— Where your body moves through life, but your heart keeps circling around someone who isn’t there anymore.

It’s personal. It’s raw. And maybe, it’s a little bit like yours.

[jahansmonogatari]

A Jigsaw, an Orange, and My Summer Table

source : pinterest A table. A table in your room. A table in your room by the window. A table in your room by the window watches you. A tabl

I wrote something new 🍊🧩🌞

It’s called “A Jigsaw, an Orange, and My Summer Table.” A quiet piece, born from a slow afternoon — the kind where sunlight spills across your thoughts and everything feels stitched together with stillness.

There’s a puzzle. There’s fruit. There’s a little bit of memory, and maybe, a bit of you too.

Read it if you’ve ever paused in the middle of a day and smiled at nothing. Or if you like simple stories that sit with you for a while.

🪞✨ https://freelancewriter90.wordpress.com/2025/05/14/a-jigsaw-an-orange-and-my-summer-table

[jahansmonogatari]

🌫️ “I’m not on the side of white or black. I’m in the middle — the grey. The part no one talks about, but everyone passes through.”

My new blog post explores the social dilemma of being grey in a world obsessed with extremes.

🖤 Read here → https://wp.me/pgr3Fn-2x

If you’ve ever felt unseen in your in-betweenness — you’re not alone.

[jahansmonogatari]

By fate, gathering pieces from my previous life.

“If you prick us, do we not bleed?If you tickle us, do we not laugh?If you poison us, do we not die?And if you wrong us, shall we not reveng

If you prick us, do we not bleed?" — These words hit me hard after watching The Pianist and reading The Merchant of Venice. My latest post dives into the connection between art, memory, and fate, all wrapped in literature and cinema. 📚🎬

[jahansmonogatari]

Young-hye's husband is the reality of the most in the real world, especially in arranged marriage, which seems to me a disaster. Because as long as you're not a drama according to them — no appeal, no demands, no choice, no discussion, no resisting — you're a good wife. As soon as you start with even a little of your choice, you become an object from a person, which seems too distinct to you. But you were an object for them to begin with. An object or a clay, adjusted, molded as they desire.

[jahansmonogatari]

When Life Happens… A Healing Wrap

When life happens, you don’t know.I was a blooming flower—shining and smiling on a night drive with my brother. I came home, slept, and sudd

When Life Happens — A Healing Wrap

🌿 Post Content: One night I was glowing, the next—hospital lights and grey curtains. Coming back home, food felt distant… Until I stepped into the kitchen.

A spoonful of veggies, a dash of sauce, Wrapped in lettuce and love. It wasn’t just a bite—it was a step towards feeling okay again.

[jahansmonogatari]

Corner of my mind

Corner of my mind Occupied by a Snowflake Till the time I hold It melts, while I am underwater Swirling in the dawn Caterpillar is getting c

Corner of my mind— a snowflake melts underwater.

A quiet poem on fleeting thoughts, soft mornings, and skies that blush pink.

[jahansmonogatari]

Oh, good lord! Why, you gave me the beautiful soul my lover loved, but not the appearance to make him resist me at all cost?

[jahansmonogatari]

My White Swan under the sun

When you opened up your heart and talked about how you made the sweet dish all by yourself because you missed your home that day. When you oh-so-innocently told me how you sometimes eat with the homeless in a restaurant when you're alone, but the restaurant refuses to let them in and you fight for them. How much you love your family and are grateful to them for everything. Your passion for learning and growing into a big person gradually by working hard day and night, yet still staying grounded and respecting each and every person throughout your journey and after.

You—the you you hide from the world—is like a swan in the water, surrounded by water lilies. White – pure – calm – and under the sun.

You also love listening to my songs, so I sing. I sing in every step of your life, to be there with you at the first step of your initial phase, and throughout your journey, to keep you going between the clouds. Because we have heard that's the destination—and it's all golden rays, flowered aroma, and the things you want: peace.

So I will be there, to get you there. I may not be there by the end of your journey, but I will surely be by your side whenever you halt or stop. I will sing to you.

We'll make harmony. I will meet your rhythm of steps, one by one—and make everything happen.