A Word After Goodbye To You

A strike through the heart,
what a better place to start?
or a plunge in the chest,
and that’ll take care of the rest,
A stab in the back, hit on the skull
There were a hundred ways
To see me die but did you have,
to break my heart and say goodbye?

I barely had enough of your supple skin
When our hands entwined,
your head on my chest, our hearts akin,
your laughter dancing through the room,
melodious, ringing, one of a kind,
would chase out the sadness and the gloom.

How often would I complain
about the deadlines, your demands (sometimes),
and if I could ever pass through those moments again,
I would kiss you over and again.
I would buy you whatever you need,
Give you my time, get you books to read,
Or maybe write a story, ours, like you wanted,
And I’ll read it, because by you, I’m enchanted.

How about an idea, we go through the photographs,
Maybe you’ll remember together, how perfect we were,
And I’ll see where it all went wrong,
And mend my ways, and try to change,
For right now, we are miles apart,
And I’d like to change that, before we become strange.

Every step I take, echoes in the cosmos,
a cosmos, empty now that you have left.
Have I never told you, about how hollow,
you’ve left me, an empty, emotionless body, cover?
Yet, even if it supposedly took a gazillion pieces of my heart,
I was, still am, and will forever be your lover.

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Be Your Own Kind.

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Be the kind of person who cannot not open the window of the bus. 
Be the kind of person who has to try new restaurants and dishes. 
Be the kind of person who keeps a rainbow in the closet.
Be the kind of person who isn’t afraid to not to anything sometimes.
Be the kind of person who paints his own walls. 
Be the kind of person who bungee jumps.
Be the kind of person who drinks and makes out with strangers.
Be the kind of person who sits at Saturday watching teary romcoms and doesn’t believe in love.
Be the kind of person who likes to cook.
Be the kind of person who talks to new people. 
Be the kind of person who loves the smell of old books and lusts the new ones.
Be the kind of person who travels. 
Be the kind of person who appreciates the sky.
Be the kind of person who isn’t afraid to scream in an ascending airplane. 
Be the kind of person who explores new routes.
Be the kind of person who dances in the rain.
Be the kind of person who eats ice cream in the winter and sips soup in the summer.
Be the kind of person who prefer flip flops to shoes. 
Be the kind of person who isn’t afraid to cry in public.
Be the kind of person who is not afraid of himself.
Be the kind of person who isn’t afraid to let go of his inhibitions.
Be the kind of person who finds beauty in scars and corners and crevices.
Be your own kind of person.

This is something I wrote because I felt like writing. Call it boring, but I just let my heart out. I hope you like it!

Epiphany In The Cacophony.

Adolescence is usually the age where people are neither children nor adults. It is that unfortunate age when you are either too old or too young. It is when you are maturing against your own will. You’re unwilling to let go of your innocence, yet look forward to adulthood with secret enthusiasm. It is also the age of decisions that affect our future, put our careers at stakes. We’ve got to think of the long run but have fun now also. It’s a confusion filled life, where there are losses at every turn, yet we need to look past them at what lies ahead of us. We make decisions, we make mistakes, we have regrets, and we learn from them.

Well, for me my biggest regret  would be opting for Science. This is one mistake that I’ll have to forever live with. It’s on my resume, the header being ‘The World’s Biggest Mistake’. This year has been hell, as you might know with the few hints that I drop of flunking every now and then.

You might have known from the About Me page that I want to become an architect or do something in English. That is a subject that I love, enjoy and want to make my life. Finally coming to the topic, despite being at the tender age of sixteen, I had an epiphany yesterday.

I realized (and I deeply credit Adi and Amelia for this) what I want to do. I don’t want to comply to the set, defined professions of the world. I want to do what I love, what I am good at, what I feel brings me joy more than my birthday. I want to read and I want to write.

I was surfing through Amelia’s blog yesterday where she was ranting (?) about the amount of work load she has for her final semester, and let me remind you that it was the eve of my chemistry exam and I couldn’t concentrate, when I wondered how amazing it would be to read books and give papers based on them rather that do rubbish that probably won’t help me anyway. I thought of all the books I can read and all the extra papers I can turn in, crediting my love of books, when now, I am barely passing.

Books have amazed me since a young age. They’ve always been my escape, my companions and partially responsible for the crazy love that I now seem to have for English as a subject. They’ve been the most loyal, honest, and understanding friends that I’ve ever had. For more, see Books.

They say, you’re the luckiest person if your best friend is your lover, because he understands you at a level that others fail at. I reckon I’ll be pretty damn lucky if I can marry my best friends, my books?

I love writing and reading. I’ve fervent passion for both. It is a trigger to my imagination. It forces my to push myself beyond normal, and explore the world real, wild, world as it lays ahead of me. The idea of having books to read and doing what I love makes my heart beat faster. Nothing is better when you are curled up n your blanket and you’re in some fantasy world with really, really great people. My heart literally burst with joy when I came to terms with this new revelation, and now I’d like to think that there is no stopping me from what I want to do.

I got an  epiphany in the cacophony, and now, I’m not going to let my brain rule over my heart. I know what I want, and I’m going to get it. I’m going to marry my books.