Dec 18, 2014
Nov 20, 2014
May 1, 2014
Killed myself. Died when I broke the promise I made to myself.
He was right. All my life I will be just OK. He cursed me.
No I am just blaming him and him. He doesn't need to be sensitive. I need to stand up and fight for myself. I need to walk out of the mess that I have made of myself, to be myself again.
...Moods that take me and erase me and I am painted black...
Dec 27, 2013
Here I am. Back.
I just wrote to a friend saying:
“life will never be the same again, but it isn’t too different (if you know what I mean)”"
I am not too different today, am just an upgraded version of myself. Some one new, some one I never knew existed. I feel more powerful, the power manifesting from his love; Love that is non-verbal, non-tangible, non-negotiable.
I am married. I share my life with him now.
I will never be the same again, but I am not too different either…
Day dreams. Pretence.
You and me back then. Pretence.
Ignore me like you always did.
Love me like you never did.
Far away. Near. Pretence.
Tears. Smiles. Pretence.
I jump off mountains, I walk those empty streets, I fly...fly, up up and away.
Looking for you. Empty not. full? Not yet. Looking for you. Pretence.
...ek sou solah chaand ki raatein, ek tumhare kandhe ka til...
Samaan tere paas...main? Pretence.
Sep 9, 2013
The death of conversations, of deep gazing, of day dreams, of hope and of mystery, of the sense of adventure. The death of poetry, the murder of that-picture-perfect-moment. The hopelessness of it all, the death of magic.