Unique

The problem in the world is, there are too many of us. There is bound to be someone like you or me out there. And I hate that fact.

It's OK to be selfish. Sometimes.

It's a cut throat world. A selfish one, and nobody would ever go out of their way for anyone unless they gain something from it. You are all by yourself and would only be fooling yourself if you think their is someone out there who cares. So just do your own thing, find yourself, be happy and get the hell out.

Tears of life.

Life is so short. One moment we are playing hide and seek with the people we love, the next they completely vanish from our life. People don't stay in our life for forever. They move on to the next bunch taking a bit of us and leaving a bit behind. I just want to make every moment count. I just want to make memories. I just don't want to let go and still hold on.

An ending.

We aren't always looking for a happy ending. Sometimes we are just looking for an ending.

The Realization

Sometimes we think we know a person really well and we look up to them no matter what. We respect them, follow them and stand up for them. And then suddenly one day, everything comes crumbling down....We realize they were never what they seemed to be. At least not entirely...They were never really truthful about themselves and their lives and to make it worse, they hid the bad parts from us. We realize we have only been building all these bonds around all the lies.  To protect ourselves from the truth so that it hurts a little less. 
But it hurts a lot. The fake persona doesn't really help and we hit the ground really hard. We realize that it's time to get real. It's time to see the truth.

Hopeless that i am.

Loving you feels really....safe. Its the only thing I know anymore. Its like a habit. And a good one at that. Or maybe not.

Back to Basics

What do you do when your life takes a giant leap from a once small affair to a big party? How does something so privately amusing, become a public show? How does a hermetical, ordinary life become so conspicuous? When do we realize that this is not what we wanted?

Recently it occurred to me that everything I do now, which doesn't define me wholly, isn't just a phase like I thought it would be. It was turning out to be a habit, which was eating away the normalcy and the simplicity of my life. A habit so persistent that doing it felt like it was there all along, and a life so fake that everything about it screamed 'lies'. 

Someone told me once or maybe I had read it in one of those sites like thought catalogs that everything I do even if it's for a fraction of a second, will define me my entire life. In other words, anything I say or think or even wish, will attach itself to the long existing chain of events that will lead to what I will be tomorrow. But it was not something I didn't know. Any person with half the brains can put two and two together to figure that out.

My question is; how does one go back to basics?

Some words.

 

I will have poetry in my life. And adventure. And love. Love above all. not the artful postures of love, but love that overthrows life. Unbiddable, ungovernable, like a riot in the heart and nothing to be done, come ruin or rapture.

- Shakespeare in love 

The Cushion Critic: The Middle Girl

Even though for their complete disregard for love,

Elle and Eli were together through all thick and rough.

It was hard to believe because it was hard to pretend,

for them and for the coming of age middle girl.

The soft pillow fabric begged her to sleep,

the tears wet the linen just as it soaked in deep,

Change that has not come, pray come soon,

sorrow that has seeped through the walls of the room.

Run up, run down, passing notes is her task

their is a sadness she hides behind the mask.

The confusion, the chaos, the silence too loud,

the sorry middle girl had rather put herself down.

Elle loved her, so did Eli, but it was not enough,

when will they understand what the consequences were?

Quick and sharp she maybe with actions and words,

but its just a playhouse, she must return to her world.

Follow through and utter not a word that displeases,

to and fro, explaining the affair with valid reasons.

Tired and drained out, waiting for it to pass on,

like wind on earth, she was the pitiful middle girl.

I do not fear death

I do not fear death

My Prayer

my prayer, is to make you see. make you believe. make you understand. make you feel. make you love. that's my prayer. I wake up to it and I sleep with it.

what if I die?

what if I die?

will you moan and cry?

will you tell me the things you never said

or leave my soul thirsty and misjudged

will you love me the way you never did 

or go on and forget the things I did 

will you say my name and remember me 

or will you only remember my misdeeds 

will you breath twice to keep me alive 

or live your life and let me die twice 

what if I die?

will you moan and cry?

will you save me from hell

or let me burn and suffer in my sins 

will you let me be your guardian angel 

or shadow my soul and make me give in 

will you be beside me when I call out 

or leave me all alone drenched in doubt 

will you always think of me and smile 

or go into the light and let my soul die 

so if I die

walk with me and don't cry

A Shadow

Its all about distance and time. Mostly distance, But we all learn to cope with it. 

Like, sometimes, even though I am so far away from 'home' I secretly imagine you standing next to me. Together, Hand in hand, but we are not close to home; somewhere far away, where I am at the moment. 

And I am so oblivious of the world and the cold around me,and the people in the street, i am just standing there staring into some store's window, imagining you in those boots, in that overcoat, or you giving directions to some confused stranger. I just smile in the cold because it feels warm. That feeling of your shadow being here with me. 

And here its only the beautiful places. I wouldn't want you to see anything else. Only beauty. Watching you smile at that beautiful lake and the leaf devoid trees surrounding it, because secretly we both know there is so much life in them and that this cold is coming to an end just like a part of a long play. And in that moment there is this overwhelming happiness that makes me cry, that my heart cannot handle and might just burst.

And that's when I feel these cold tears rolling down my cheeks. Seeing all this beauty and you in it. Its so beautiful. You are so beautiful. 

And then i cry a little more when someone calls out my name, 

and I wake up.

Change is the way of life and so is destiny.

People are not theirs thoughts, they think they are, and it brings them all kinds of sadness.

what if whatever we do to change what we think is 'written' is what is actually written?

To be nobody but yourself.

The Feel.

we move on

not because we forget,

or stop loving

or caring

we never do.

it is because

they do not even notice,

that we waited so long

and that we moved on.

Just Us. Again.

I like to see people reunited, maybe that’s a silly thing, but what can I say, I like to see people run to each other, I like the kissing and the crying, I like the impatience, the stories that the mouth can’t tell fast enough, the ears that aren't big enough, the eyes that can’t take in all of the change, I like the hugging, the bringing together, the end of missing someone.                   — Jonathan Safran Foer , Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

Just Us.

Its not what you did or they did or anyone for that matter. Everything matters. You. Me. Them. Us. Its the past that has brought us all together. A very long time ago when it all happened. Spaces filled with stories of joy, sorrow and the shear will to live life. Spaces in which we would gladly live again. Stories we would gladly rewrite. People we would gladly be reunited with.

What are you?

there are things you have to miss in life. you cant have everything. you cant be the best at a sport and still want to have a music career, or have a loving husband and a family but still want to be successful, or maybe have cos-plays with friends but still get up every morning and read current affairs and run for class president, or better yet have close friends but not let in the bad with the good. life is about choices. its definitely not a fairy tale. maybe your first kiss will be after your wedding or your first accomplishment after retirement or your first love in an old age home. if life was predictable we would all be kings and queens, but we are not. we are the common people of this never-land. we just have to make a choice of whether to fly and take on an evil pirate or sit in a cave and drink tea. either way it wont bring us any sadness, and that's the tricky part.

The Cushion Critic:Passer's by Lament

this air is stale,

this place static,

same ol same ol,

a stagnant view,

a sodden stage,

these verses of hate,

whispers and screams,

with unaltered scenes,

and no effort put,

same ol same ol.

we have passed that bridge

but not mend it yet,

there is no hope or scope

or expectation,

no change or modification,

same ol same ol.

and this way we will

live out our lives,

behind shady screens

judged by heedless beings,

lets not alleviate oneself,

with botched promises,

we are all varmints,

of science and god,

deceiving no one

with our flawed feigns,

its just same ol same ol.

Its a Midnight kind of Love

there is something crazy about this love. its a midnight kind of love.

when that song comes on and i know exactly how i am feeling. and how warm it would be just to be standing next to you or better yet, just to snuggle under a palm tree. a little tipsy and happy and a little high on life. 

and i can hear your heartbeat race like a six am train because when i hear it, i know i am going places. and when my warm breath on your neck makes you giggle like a four year old cracking a joke with his imaginary friend. 

and we know exactly what to say. its peaceful like getting up at middle of the night smiling and feeling ticklish even when i am alone. 

its a crazy midnight kind of love.