Dear higher self,
Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once s/he grows up.
To be free is to be set to follow ultimatums, to have freedom is to set the options and have an opinion of your own that counts; for persons/human/monster(Legalize) are free(to do what they want you to be) and people are/have freedom.
“Dom,”means jurisdiction of, the
I tell myself the things I feel is silly.
I tell myself I’m being over dramatic and emotional.
I tell myself it’s nothing to fret about.
I tell myself that, how I feel is just all in my head.
I do this because my feelings, my emotions, my worth... never really meant anything to anyone.
When I voice my feelings they are shrugged off with “that’s all in your head. Come on now. Get real, Amber! Your just trying to start drama”.
When I voice my feelings, people make me feel like I’m wrong and I should just live by their opinions.
So eventually, I just learned to shove my feelings down and disregard them. Nobody else cared about them, so why should I?
But now, now I have this man. ...
“You’ll never know you’ll like a car until you give it a test ride. Same concept goes for not knowing your potential until you truly give something a try.”
Entre filas, sillas, mesas y un buró.
Y pensar en todas las filas, sillas y mesas llenas de sonrisas y buena conversacion...esas para poder disfrutar de nuestra comida favorita, y una que otra compra sin mucho valor, esas filas para pagar cuentas, para convenciones, preestrenos y canciones.
Mesas de casa, mesas de computador, mesas con velas, colada o con lo que traía el repartidor,mesas de noche o un simple velador, mesas de hospitales, sillas de hospitales, salas de espera y sillas de bus...y como olvidar aquellos asientos donde fui yo tu espectador.
Que tonto resulta ahora para mi sentir nostalgia por aquello que no te importó. Porque al final de cada temporada ese asiento inconidicon...
Zindagi k kuch pehlu suljhaye toh kuch khud hi samjh aagaye..
Zindagi ko kuch samjha toh kuch khud hi sikha gaye..
Mana ki galtiyan humari bhi thi aur shaq karna galat tha..
Par shaq bilkul sahi tha..
- Damaged heart but true
Slow down don't rush
Slow and steady for once
Breath in breath out
Focus only on us
Every scene embraced
Every single touch
As our heart are in sync
As they both start to rush
Our lip begin to meet
Our breath shall and weak
Our eyes seeing beyond just our physical being
And the night hush overwhelms us
As we speak only to say the same thing
I love you more than anything.
If only I could crawl into the Big Dipper
let my tired legs drape over
and tap comets off course
as my eyes swayed
I would dip my fingertips
into nearby galaxies
to taste the sweetness of the unknown and
savor the peppering of stardust in the night's sky
I could rest my weary head on Orion's belt,
and watch Saturn and Venus duel brightness
versus beauty and who's seen most of the sunrise
If only I could travel at light's speed
to feel his softened breath against my chest,
that would be all I needed,
infinitely, for a good night's rest
I remember that it felt like floating
at least in the opening moments
tumbling down a verdant hillside
with the melody of your laughter
caressing my ears
followed by my own
as I watched you follow suit
until we were both entangled
in love with the warmth
of both sunlight and flesh enmeshed
wishing we could lie here
just lie here
watching cloudless blue skies
deepen to darkest indigo
counting stars and passing planes
dreaming it would never fade
and I remember...
You're going to miss her when she's gone
You're going to wonder where she went
You couldn't EveN hear her screaming for help and that she was barely hanging on by a frayed thread
Casually dismissing most things she's said
I suppose 'IT' doesn't matter now
She's somehow off better wherEveR she is now.......
All your promises were a lie.
All your tears were a lie.
All your laughter was a lie.
Now I will come in memories, I will be missing.
The punishments will also tell you, "What did you do? You did it"
I wish i was yours ,
If I was yours, they would not be sadness,
I wish you were mine.
You are such a beautiful source of inspiration, never ending, so fullfilling, you pour out of my lips and fingers every second I am breathing!
Do you remember when we met The STREETLIGHTS which don’t emit light had personified our walking path .
That day the STREETLIGHTS felt something else, it was something magical.
just the way u light me up, that day the STREETLIGHTS had light up every path we crossed.
May be that day i fell in love with STREETLIGHTS and a little more for you.
Some days are solely meant for silent late night drives, exchanging stories with your closest friends across the bonfire and waking up at 3 pm. Some days are solely meant for adventures with the people you love.
La vida tan tranquila pasa... Transitoria fluyendo constante y líquida.
Escapándose de entre las manos; derramándose por el suelo, evaporandose los sueños de ésta vid•a•gua derramada están; escurriendose hacia los recovecos más profundos y obscuros de esta vid•a•gua van los buenos sentimientos y las buenas ideas. Las malas, flotan, se encharcan y se quedan ahí, estancadas y sucias, revolviendose y dando orígen a otras ideas, acciones, y sentires flotantes atascados e igual de sucias...
Change creeps in,
Cramping up those overworked limbs.
Skin sticks stubbornly to the bones.
Forging a sandpaper-wrapped skeleton.
Hunger finds a home for the night,
And slowly devours it's host.
"You are what you eat", the world says,
Some people are Nothing.
Fatigue puts a coat on,
And takes a walk down the highway.
It slithers in tattered blankets and
And lulls the weary to Sleep.
Hope packs it's bags,
And silently sets out in the night.
Making it's way to the Home,
Those feet failed to reach.
Words line up together,
And fill up a column in a newspaper.
Numbers pass by...
Mike Tyson is coming over for dinner today and the whole family is excited!
Mom is baking cookies and preparing the salads.
Dad is dusting off the punching bag for the after dinner festivities.
Jimmy and Jacob are vigorously practicing their piano for the appreciation songs they composed for Iron Mike and will be performing them at tempo- “molto allegro”.
“Let’s hope he likes Polish sausages” said Steve, the uninvited republican as he tunes his dusty banjo.
Fighting and not talking to each other was fine because i knew you were there with me.
Now that, you've decided to go, i standing here alone,
What could've been done to prevent this from happening...
आँखों की नमी हो या
लबों की वो ठहरी सी उदासी
तुम कितना भी मुस्कुरा लो
तुम्हें तुम से पहले हम समझते है ।।
अपनों की महफ़िल में
वो ग़ैर सी तुम्हारी हँसी
वो लफ्ज़ो पर वाह करते है
और हम,उनके दरमियां
खिंची ख़ामोशी का शोर
अब तलक सुनते है।
तुम कितना भी मुस्कुरा लो,मगर
तुम्हें तुम से कही ज्यादा
आज भी सिर्फ़ हम समझते है ।।