For January 9, 2018:
Mornings are not my favorite. Especially in this blistering cold, no one wants to squirm outside of their blankets or leave the comfort of their bed to head for work. But regardless of it all, we still have to do it. As miserable as certain things make you, you still have to do it.
College is a shitty place to be at. For something that is considered to be a temple of education, it is quite unholy in it's approach. I hate the vibe of that campus, the people in it, typically everything in its vicinity. I, somehow, survived almost 2 hours of lectures and found myself running out of there at the speed of an ambulance cutting through traffic in case of an emergency.
For January 8, 2019:
I love movies. I could endlessly watch movies for a living. There's no doubt in that. The sense of liberty and hope and reality movies can incorporate in our hearts is like no other. Last night I was supposed to watch Bandersnatch but due to work I couldn't. So instead today I went out with a couple of friends to see Bumblebee. What a beautiful movie it was. To imagine a machine developing such intense emotions and being more heartfelt than humans is something that really fascinated me. Hailee Steinfeld is drop dead gorgeous and the way she loves Bumblebee is impeccable. She discovers him when he's nothing, takes him home only to find out he's an alien and still some...
For January 6, 2018:
Self care is something that I fail at miserably. I try my best to take care of people that I love, but when it comes to me, I think I have barely anything left in me. I dismiss my inability to take efforts under the name of being constantly busy in work and life. But when I'm alone, away from work, completely empty handed, I very much understand what I've been avoiding and what I should be doing right now. So today, as a ritual for Sunday, I turned it into a Self Care Sunday. Treated myself to a great home made facepack, conditioned my freshly chopped short hair with again a home made hair pack. Took almost an hour bath in hot water because this place keeps getting col...
For January 5, 2019:
What a harsh harsh day. Honestly some days just come to you with their bellies filled with nothing more than anxiety. And the result of such anxiety is not cool.
I've always lived with this illusion that I'm one of the cool kids who can mouth off stuff easily. Maybe at some point of time in my teens I was exactly that but as life progressed I descended into this quieter version of a person. I stopped speaking up in unfamiliar surroundings. I started noticing how, while being in a crowd, I still felt like an outcast. My world stayed limited to my own thoughts and whenever I tried opening up, people just kept on getting distinct.
To tell you the truth I don't think I'...
For January 4, 2019:
Ah, the sheer pleasure of a dreamless night. And when I say dreamless, I mean I don't see you or us.
The day however was pretty mundane but this time, 9 years ago I broke my leg. Since then I have been celebrating every 4th of January as my leg fracture day. I was too excited for a person with a broken bone. Every incident comes with a story. Who knew a broken leg would help me meet my absolute best friend back then. It still upsets me to this day that we drifted apart the way we did. Mom tells me, people who enter your life in a whim and like a whirlwind unsettle everything in their presence, tend to exit the very same way. God, are mothers ever wrong?
I think ab...
For January 3, 2019:
Jan 3 :
I woke up with a weird dream twitching continuously at the back of my mind. You keep visiting me in the form of these odd dream sequences. Usually I find myself awestruck by you, pretty much how I was in reality. But something changed this time. We were on our spot, the rooftop remember? Surrounded and swamped in a sea of people, I always found a way to you; but now I didn't. I simply watched you walk past me. I saw you talking around, moving around me. And I did nothing. Maybe this is letting go in it's most realest aspect. We no more talk. We eventually just start building a different life where we're nothing more than a passing cloud in each other's sky. ...
For January 2, 2018:
It was difficult falling asleep last night. It is weird how we keep craving sleep all day long and then when the time comes, it abandons us. It oddly reminds me of you and some more people. Like I said, you're nothing more than a memory that I look back on. Maybe that's why I couldn't close my eyes. I stayed up reading our old conversations, reminiscing how easy we were. We existed in the same space, or the way you liked to say it : Only ten minutes apart. I wish I could still be your girl from downstairs. It's strange how people elate so fast, and soon become unreachable. Halsey reminded me of that. Baby, I am the one who put you up there. I don't know why.
For January 1, 2019:
1. It's the first day of the year and I cannot move forward without thinking about you. I miss you. You still linger and I do not know when you'd stop. Until then, my future belongs to everyone but you. It's okay ... I'm okay. I hope you are too.
2. On brighter side of things, the sky looked a lot like cotton candy today. It almost felt as if somebody up there just couldn't stop making cotton candies and thus, the sky was sweeter for the rest of the day. I'm still a kid, and cotton candies will forever be my weakness. And somehow saying cotton candies over and over comforts my tongue and my heart. Live on, you '95 kid.
3. God bless for technology. Friends, now family...
i will look for you when the moon is most lonely.
i know you love to hide in plain sight too.
the salty rusts of a slow dying night is partial
when it comes to keeping you company while i'm gone.
wait for my return, darling, the dawn does not live far
if you walk towards the horizon in the beautiful dark.
reprise in the silk of my sweat that rests on the edge of your bed.
pick up my shirt and try it on, see if we still fit each other perfectly or you are still two sizes down.
please do not kill your appetite just because you do not have my hands to feed you fishy food.
how do i tell you, as much as i love your bones, i love the flesh on them too.
my absence should not give you loneliness,...
extremely decorated struggles.
tough spot disguised as warm couches.
predict the weather not based on the color of clouds.
listen to the hustling that goes beyond it, to the core.
volcanoes erupt but go unnoticed so swiftly.
the fumes are generally the red flags but often dismissed.
look at the moon, it is not beautiful.
look at stars, they are not appealing.
sit down for more than a second, before the mirror.
black and blue are not art on the skin.
utterly violent oceans.
a clear surface is not as calm as it appears.
step on the volatility of an engaging exterior.
understand the movement underneath that is continuous.
a blossoming garden is still a sign of somet...
time is a barrier we often try to break.
me from this side, you from that.
i wonder if passage of time is
as important as they suggest?
that maybe time is more of a magician
than a sorry man who wishes to rewrite
his wrongs with each tick of his breath.
and yet here we are, trying to do the same.
oh, let us go back to the magician theory.
i would want to pretend that indeed,
time is a magician with all the greatest tricks,
wrapped inside the folds of his costume.
i want to pretend he practices a hundred times,
and fails about a gazillion times before
he executes his wowing acts.
i imagine myself to be the best assistant
that he has ever had.
i have sold myself selflessly as a dummy,
none of it ever really made sense.
the certainty of your heart willing to understand,
about the quantum of risk love possibly possessed;
you, a naive kid with a blabbermouth, and a tongue,
too weak to grab hold it's slippery words.
me, a naive kid with an unstoppable imagination;
a mind that had a mind of its own.
oh, how we tend to our needs in a way that suits
the weather within our nerve wracking bones.
one day, you want everything that reminds you of me.
the next, you want everything but me.
this slow deterioration of what we were once,
to what we have become is same as that of Rome.
A symbol of greatness, of our strength, is visible,
now as a nothing more than a city of ruins.
i try to love you harder
with each passing day.
lord knows it is not easy
to chase a sun that is
so determined to set.
still i hold you dearly
in the confiance of my heart.
a young lover's yearn,
you resonate in my sadness
some days you are my sadness;
other days, just an unusual smile
in the form of a passerby
onward to a new town.
what makes love stop?
what makes it go?
meant to be are those,
who do not wander
far but who wander enough
to know there is no bed
softer than a lover's chest,
no lips more welcoming
than the one waiting at
the dinner table with cold food.
no matter the unwashed clothes,
or bad hair or troublesome life,
that reek you and cover you,
i hope you know...
A LOVER'S CRY.
tonight the bones creak.
and it is me against the sound of my body
begging affection from a source rather exhaustive.
it is truly excruciating to believe that an absence
of a person is so titanic even a single bed is too large
to contain a wrinkled withered heart.
i want to trust in love again,
in vows that say 'in sickness and in health.'
i want to return to that first moment where our eyes met,
and we looked at each other as if all these lonely nights
would finally come to rest.
how we would give in to the sadness of our lives.
lay them bare with us under the sheets.
too controversial to be revealed.
but it is only the darkness that understands,
what hides underneat...
i have put so much thought
into how i want you to love me.
there are ways in which preservation works.
like some love to hold a flower even after
it stops resembling who it used to be.
and that is exactly how you must hold me.
keep me safe in between the soft turns
of the pages that hold your history.
i want to be a part of your history.
i want you to keep placing me and
then re-placing me in new chapters,
old chapters; chapters that still hurt you.
treat me as a comfort you wished for
on days that turned heavy so fast
you could barely catch your breath.
i want you to know me.
discover me in a way all hungry explorers do.
think of me as your first expedition.
peddle your way through m...
it has been so long since i have been loved.
or been told that if i were to walk away from this,
it would be the end of the world. or the end. of all.
i have forgotten what it is like to have someone,
in the middle of the night, when i am too scared
to close my eyes because my stability is not
just mine, it is shared, like this bed we would lay in,
and you would tell me that these storms shall pass.
what is it like to be touched in the morning,
by a touch that is more tender to you than
you have ever been to yourself, almost like desperation
curling itself on to the closest possible prayer.
i always ask, is this body capable of handling
being loved and being worshipped under the same sheets...
To The Ones Who Have Loved And Lost And To The Ones Who Are Trying Their Best To Love An Already Broken Heart.
i do not have the nerve to love you.
to love you is to hold you at the end of the day,
and my hands fail to fathom up a courage so bold,
so i watch, as you walk with your trudged feet,
with a stench of disappointment, raw.
like an anticipation of a good day gone bad.
here, within me, you let yourself lay bare.
break a sweat or two on my chest,
blaming the world for it's prejudice.
i look down on you and see what you mean,
when you say this world is the greatest thief.
i do not have the nerve to love you but,
i tell you it only picks on your happiness because
it is jealous of how ...
Foolishly Fierce Fire: An Ode To My Little Sister.
bleached in a bowl of black and white,
she strolled amongst us like a little ball of sunshine.
too handful to be tamed, her cheeks a reminder of two globes,
on either sides holding mouthful of giggles for people who have forgotten,
there's laughter for days where the world has none to offer.
eyes drooping under the weight of heavy eyelids, struggling so hard,
not to fall asleep on a summer afternoon, with a fear of being left behind.
she is dead set of making the most out of this life, though her tiny feet can't keep up with her brother's pace.
at every game of hide and seek, she loses her patience in finding her cousins, who hoaxed her...
i am not a big fan of six a.m.
i hate how revealing the light can be.
it walks in with it's head held high
and lifts the lid off my last night's sin.
leave me be today, will you please?
you are not my ray of hope.
you will never be my sunshine.
the only sunshine i love is
the one at six p.m when,
her head rests upon my shoulder
and when we are a little colder from
holding on to the survival of our day.
she looks out into the never ending skyline
and softly whispers, 'if forever was a name, i want it to be ours.'
maybe forever was just a tiny moment,
that happened to us each day for a second;
but lived on in the shape of a timeless cloud
drifting from place to place,
so that eve...
The Boy Who Lived In The Clouds.
Roar, devour, the softness that surrounds.
A boy has his head far up in the clouds.
He looks patiently for the ones who hide,
ever so quiet like him; he wants friends
who can share the silence of his mouth.
Runs his hands through the escaping holes,
left behind by the people aiming for the stars.
The boy wants to build a castle in the air
where they say no kites could ever fly.
Some days he struggles with his tongue,
Unable to hold his words at misery's tip;
He keeps saying he knows how the sun manages
to let go of all that sunshine everyday
even when the world is not worthy of it.
He gives away chunks of his heart,
undeniably, unconditionally, unfatho...
a rainy day, a sad afternoon,
running, drentched on the sidewalk.
i stop, only for a second, for a boot.
a wet, sad boot right there on the sidewalk.
people walking on it, pass it, through it.
and there i am, just standing.
imagining, a lonely lover is half incomplete,
somewhere, wandering in anger,
trying to recall why did they throw out
just one part of their being and not the whole?
i'm sure love is not done halfway.
it takes more than just one fight,
to leave behind pieces of you like that.
a rainy day, a sad afternoon,
i stopping looking for you altogether.
a breath too hard, my lungs sighed relief,
on the car window.
i do not make heart shapes out of them,
i let my bre...
the beginning. the end. the beginning.
when death comes, seldom do we know,
until it is actually here, in our face, smiling,
stretching an arm to touch us like nobody ever has.
we count their breaths before they start slipping away;
the body, now a bunch of pebbles, stumbling from your hands.
and as the little rocks land on the floor one after the other,
it makes no sound. only you do. one heartbreak at a time.
death, my old friend, is a song we've known about since forever,
too controversial to be sung or screamed from atop,
but it will make it's way to your throat, and slowly before you know,
it will sew itself on to your lips and eyes and skin.
troublesome, as we struggle to remember,
The Synonymity Of Sky And Me.
i’ve always looked up to the skies.
so mighty, the black and the blue,
and still so lonely, look it cries,
so loud, the thunder and the storm,
and still so quiet, hear it’s misery,
so apparent when it touches the ground,
kills if you dare cross it’s path.
i know for better, this is how i am too.
a gigantic canvas stretching each day,
further and farther away from your touch.
lonesome, hiding within my own cover,
i shed tears as tiny as a heartbeat,
louder than a fist bump shared.
the black and the blue of skin,
on display for every passer by,
dare and lay another finger on me,
try smudging the void you feel,
i will drape down and tangle you,
The Day I Skipped Work.
To be honest I don't know what it feels like to live alone. For as long as I can remember I've never been left to fetch on my own. But at the same time I know what it feels like to stay alone. Being in a room full of people and still not having the courage or the urge of going up to somebody and starting a conversation. That's the type of staying alone I'm referring to. Call it being content in one's self or call it being incapable of keeping up with other people and their chattery mouths, I've always resented going out of the way to appear like a normal person. I can't bloody do normal. And I don't know why. It's tough when it comes to putting on masks and preten...
Dear Bestfriend Who's Out To Conquer The World,
After a very long and tiring work day i came home to this beautiful sunset and good god how much it reminded me of you. You, who, somewhere too, must be coming home to this after a very long and tiring day, thinking of me, thinking of us and how far we have come in terms of sharing the sky, the sunset, the yellow of our hearts and the blue of our souls and yet everyday that we spend apart, we learn there's still so much more of sharing left to be done before we permanently go our separate ways (if that is even an option). Today i miss you more than usual. Sunsets are whatever but our time together is not. If at all you feel this world is too ...
vintage women. (an advertisement)
a tapered skin suit.
a scratched surface.
a holy patched pocket.
a rugged biker jacket.
a distressed bone set.
a damning bootleg.
know your women
before you get them.
love your women
after you wear them* (t&c applied)
you may never
need a watch again.
look at her shadow
it holds moments
of history she has
a vivid walk,
on her pride
you don't have
to give yours.
always sits on her lips.
she doesn't lick,
she bites her way
through an ice cream;
only if it's her
wider than your mind.
she likes to push
everything is at
'dear old friend'
today i received a letter from an old friend.
a letter that i once wrote and she once read.
i told myself this is what suprises look like now a days.
reminders from a time capsule buried in the memory
of the days spent loving and living so passionately
that the death had to come faster than anticipated.
treacherous as she calls me to be for inking my feelings;
making a piece of paper so worthwhile to be protected,
she says she has the courage to fight me but never
tear my words into irreconcilable pieces.
i laugh at the irony of how we were able to survive
the waves of nostalgia flooding our feet.
but look at us now, we do not recognize
if the reason behind our sudden w...
scars to your beautiful.
my body is 8,525 days old.
it still feels new, i must admit.
to wake up and not recognize my own eyes,
i think i don't know them enough to know
how hurting it is to look at photographs
from a life long left behind.
a life that resembles a street full of faces
that once said 'i will never let go.'
to this day i feel like a stranger in my own party,
waiting for someone to offer me a drink or a dance or a hand
to take and never ever stop spinning even when the thrill ends.
i question each day as if the answer lies under the table
and all i have to do is bend down and sit with it.
so i do it; i camp with all the answers in a hope to be saved (this time).
how is it t...
A Wish From Earth.
While I struggle at night,
Your thoughts pick me up in the morning.
While I miss you every time,
Your teachings make me stand up every morning.
While I feel left behind and scared,
Your light attracts me.
While I regret not having spent time with you,
Your stories help me to know the best person of my life.
While I cry trying to remember a single moment with you,
Your heart that still beats inside me puts me through.
While I see you in pictures and gets my eyes numb,
Your struggle clears my life.
While I try figuring out life,
Your ways prepare me for anything that's coming.
While I fall short to have any real passion,
You make me passionate to be like you.
Dear Ms. I Can Walk In Whenever I Want And Leave Whenever I Want,
you told me i am incapable of forgiving.
that every time someone is on their knees,
all i do is stare at them till they stop breathing.
if you were to actually consider my side of things,
there are things i would love to say in my defence.
things you fail to flaunt to the world because
they speak my truth and your fabricated lie.
go ahead, tell the world how every fight
that i have showed up to with compassion,
i lost myself while trying to save a certain someone
who claims i don't know what forgiveness means.
tell me why should i risk killing myself over and over, when you came in with your mind already made up?
convinced i ...