It just feels like yesterday that I packed my bags and came here.
The baggage of memories and sadness of leaving one place had just struck me then
And today here I am bags packed.
Goodbyes said.
All set to move to a new place, I don't know where
All set to go somewhere and start all over again.
The same sadness burries me of moving out.
My eyes are moist
Heart heavy.
I don't wanna move again after having made so many friends and memories here.
I don't wanna go.
But yet again I'm set on another voyage.
Goodbye to this place and to all the people I love.
To all the roads I know, to all the places I've been to
And to everything else.
It's goodbye once again
Life turns upside down in just a matter of seconds.
I have made friends and enemies here,
Where I envy and love certain people
I do hate a few.
In just a day I’m leaving this place
Packing a lot of memories and moments
Which is heavier than my luggage.
I have made some friends for life
Whom I might not call everyday
Or think about all the while
But the place they have in my life is irreplacable
I have always been scared to let people get close to me
The fear of being vulnerable
The fear of getting so close
That if they leave I can’t survive.
Very few people make an impact when they leave
But only a handpicked make an impact staying.
Today when I count those few I’m glad I have them
But I’m scared of leaving them and going
I’m not just gonna miss them
I’m gonna miss their constant presence and the impact they make
I wish tomorrow never ended
Because the next dawn is an end
To a lifetime of memories and joy
Now I realize that moving out is indeed sad
I don’t wanna go
I don’t wanna go…
The solicited aspects of life turns on
Accepted mores of life goes on
But still there persists one constant thing
That isn't ready to go with change...
Change itself.
There are aspects she claims about herself
There are aspects she says she's not
But like everybody says
At the end of the day all she wants are eyes pleased
And people happy.
I haven't known her well
Even after knowing her for the past 21 or so years
She seems to be a confident, clear and sorted person
And the next fraction I see this trash of a person
She messes up everything just by over thinking
Everytime I tell her to shut up at unnecessary conversations.
Still she spills the words and poof! Goes everything
There are people who know the playful side of hers
And yet there are others who know her as rude and disrespectful
She throws up tantrums and sits up angry
And then there are people who now her as the quite and composed one....
I know her of not just flesh and bone
But rather deep inside
Of all these sides and more
Of all the broken relationships
Of all the complaints from childhood
Of all the fears from life....
I know her like no one else
But sometimes even I have a set back understanding what exactly she wants
Because she holds back from everything she needs
Having so much going on in her head
But still putting them all behind
And regretting of that one moment she takes for herself
Spending that one penny on her
Going that one extra mile.
I feel sorry for her if nothing else
Because of the heart that she holds
And the world she tries to put together
In the end she lands up letting go of herself for others
You call me by my name all the time
And it used to feel great to hear it from you
I loved the sound you used make
And how you use a lot of different tones
I get your mood by the way you call,
But Daddy
It has all changed nowadays
You used to do all these things
And made me feel I was your princess
But
Then I realized that
Whenever you call brother
Its always a different tone
Infact, you never call him by his name
But rather all different adjectives
Sometimes its ‘champ’ otherwise ‘buddy’
Yet other times you call him
‘your darling son’
And the only tone that you use the days
The way you call my name
These days brings horror in me
Don’t call me by my name Daddy
Coz’ it makes me scared
That you’ll scold me again
Don’t call me by my name Daddy
Coz’ it makes my entire body shiver
Don’t call me by my name
Don’t call me by my name Daddy….
I diagnosed myself of suicidal tendencies.
I'm over it now
I'm glad I'm over it.
I was fascinated by death
But it's over now.
What would have happened
If my thoughts had gone real..?
If my laziness had not pertained.?
Yes, I was lazy to die too...
I would have jumped off that building I pass through everyday.
I would have been somewhere else now
Food to the worms
And in time would have been just bones and only bones.
Many would have cried....
Some for days, others for weeks, and
Yet a few for months.
But the law of memory would have allowed everybody to forget me.
That's what happens to everybody.
That's normal.
But then, why is it normal..?
Why do we forget..?
We say people are everything
Then why do we forget..?
I know its moving on,
And that it's very essential.
But then, most of the time
The person doesn't even remain in our vaguest memory.
Aniversaries of death in the initial years
Brings back the flood of tears.
But with years, even that dissappears.
So, what significance do people have
What do they mean in life.?
That haunts me today
More than my chaos.
And now, death does not facinate me
But rather the question....
Why does the memory fade away..?
I thought I was done with it. With this so called "Love". I believed that what I expect of love will never be given to me. I was sure it was all over.
But here I am sitting on my desk, gazing at my desktop screen, reading all those wonderful texts he sent me. Those lines of poetry that I had always wanted to hear. His words are the petals of the rose named love. But I fear that the thrones of the rose will prick me in no time.
Maybe this insecurity of mine is pointless, maybe even meaningless. That's what he told me too......
Maybe I am just fearing a bit too much. Maybe I am thinking too much. maybe........
I hope its just all in my head. And this time maybe it will work out. maybe my insecurity will just be done. he may be different from the rest. I now he is. the better different I hope
What would you do if you wake up tommorow morning and realize that you are not that person anymore. That you have changed overnight. How would you react when you realize that you dont remember anything at all what happened. What would you do if you suddenly found yourself in a time span much much ahead of where you last were.
I dont know either. But somehow, somewhere I feel that I am lost. Lost in my own life. My own vicious cycle of finding myself. Being good to myself. Being the person whom I am expected to be. Whom I expect to be.
I am tired of deciding things in life after analyzing whether I am becoming what they always doubted that I would become. I am tired of the realization that I have lost track of myself.
I want to live for me. Decide for me. And do or dont do things because I want to or dont want to. I dont want to stop doing something just because maybe that is what I am becoming. I am tired of justifying everything I do. I am tired of fulfilling the expectations of others. I am tired of not becoming and sick of living for others.
I want to be me and live for me decide for me and understand me justify me feel happy for me guilty towards me and me me and me no one else.
Hot summer days are the worst time to go on a drive, but I still decided to go on one. I thought maybe the AC in my car and the sunny sky would be a better change in comparison to my cramped room with humidity hitting the roof.
It was one of those days where I was eagerly waiting for the summer rains to drench the soil and let out a cool breeze.
As I keep driving, without a destination, nor a map to guide me through, taking turns as my brain tells me to and my heart wants me to.
I stop at an empty road, waiting for the 30 seconds on the signal to pass so I could head to the place I didn't know of.
That's when it came, the thunder, the lightening, the wind the breeze the dark afternoon and the darker clouds.
The radio tells me it's some cyclone, my heart tells me it's the first of summer rains.
I pause, I don't move an inch. The clouds starts pouring, the heavy water droplets on my car roof hits my ears, I scroll the window pane, and let the rain drops fall in.
My face now wet, my head filled with a hundred thoughts, I make a U-turn and head home.
I play loud music to shun the voices in my head. I stop at a tea shop, ask for a strong filter coffee and lit a cigarette, the radio yet again tells me of casualities due to the cyclone and my head tells me it's just the summer rains.
Image from @a-small-startup
Half hidden, half in the light. My tangled legs wanna leave all this behind and run.
Run towards the light. Towards the peace towards serenity.
But my legs are struck,
they're bound to stay,
no one has locked me in,
but my legs are pulled back
and they are asked to stay.
They are told to finish what I'm doing.
Half in the darkness and half in light, my legs want to run towards the ocean.
I came home late and found Mike sitting on the couch very disturbed
Me : what happened Mike, you seem upset, everything fine at work..?
Mike : everything is fine at work, I just have to attend a wedding reception tonight, I just got a call.
Me : what's wrong in that? you tired?
Mike : no, Mary is getting married, remember.... my ex.?
Me : It's fine baby, since she is fine why do you worry..? Go, wish her and come back.
Mike : *sighs* ok, I'll go, can you come with me, please..?
*my phone rings*
Me : hello, yes, oh, how are you.?
what.?
Congratulations..... when..?
Today! I'll try
You won't believe this, Mark got married today and he just invited me for his reception, like now...!
Mike: what..? You're ex, Mark..? What a fucking coincidence..?
Me : I guess we both have to go and congratulate the couple, I wish I could have with you...
Mike : It's fine, get dressed.
We got dressed up and we both headed out, he took a cab and I took the car, I walk in to the reception hall and turn around to find Mike
Both of us were upset as shit. It was over, we could have not gone, but we had to, we had to tell them we moved on...
Mike : what the fuck, wait... really.
Yes our ex were getting married to each other, which means their ex got married to each other, which was fucking crazy. We dint invite them for our wedding, so they have no idea...
We walked up, posed for a pic, him next to her and me next to Mark. It was the worst situation I was in...
We walk out hand in hand...
Mary & Mark : that was my ex, deal done of inviting them to our wedding...
Now, more than us they were fucked up exactly on their wedding day...
I'm glad I got to read the script first before the world could..
https://youtu.be/dQsjAbZDx-4
I love this song. So one day I was thinking of the lyrics and saw potential for a short story. Here it goes:
On he went. The snow was hard to distinguish from his hair. The steps were exhausting, each one. But still, it was a special day. He was almost there. Crosses and more crosses. It was hard to find a specific one, since they all looked the same. But it wasn’t his first time. He knew the way.
There it was. The flowers of last year had disappeared. The dog tag was still there. Fernando. What a war freak. He asked for all of it. To be buried with soldiers. To have nothing but a wooden cross. For the tag to hang on it. But not for the visits. That was on him. But how could he not? The whole war, and the fact the he came out alive, he owned it to him. To his bravery. To the hero he was.
“Hello Fernando? Enjoying not going gray, you lucky bastard? Here, I brought you your favorite.”
As he said that, he put down a red label bottle. How many memories. How many times they had fought for the last shot of one of those. Youth well spent.
But there was more. There was the war. And no one, in the whole world, was as proud to have defended freedom as Fernando. He had convinced everyone he could to join. He had fought until his last breath. Still, at the end, he survived. His smile was probably the largest on the night they celebrated the victory. They had to go on with their ordinary lives, but Fernando was forever a soldier. He died speaking about the honor of being a soldier.
Yet, not one person would remember him as a Nazi killer, but as the most inspiring, amusing and friendly figure to ever live. Except for that one soldier friend, visiting his soldier grave, to pay him a friend honor.
“Do you remember that night Fernando? The fireworks, the drinks, the women? How did we enjoy being young, being heroes, even though we would never touch a rifle again. Guess that’s what it’s all about, Fernando. Having the one story to be told on the grave.”
He laughed, far too much for the state of his lungs, until he coughed. Blood.
“Oh, my Fernando. Looks like I’ll be joining you quite soon”
The outside word is harsh and cold
That’s why we keep our doors closed…
My mom told me this the first time I asked the reason behind closing the door.
Then another question arised as to why we keep our windows open
And she replied “to view the world.”
But….
Wait…!
Why see the harsh world
If we close our doors to it.
Why have windows if we want cocoons…
It was then I realized lately
That we dont close our doors because the outside world is harsh and cold
But because we are scared of the outside world
Which consists of our “own”
And we still have windows because we are anxious to know whats happening out there
This lie we tell
The blame we put
Its all an escape
To the fear within us…
The fear towards us.
We close our doors
Because we fear the outside world
19:03:18