Subtle Kaleidoscope

so long but so often. that is what i say, whenever she asks me anything about how i am doing. that is how i feel. so long and so often. i can try to picture where it all went wrong for the first time but no, there wasn't a first time for it. it always felt wrong.  no matter how hard i try to brush it off, or shrug it off, or choke on it slowly, or die for it fast, anything that i can do will only lead me to live, with this burden. i was better off pleasing myself by pleasing few. now i don't seem to care about pleasing anyone, because there is so much to run for, their list goes on and on and on. I try talking it out, but i can't. i cant make anyone understand how is it like. People are fighting demons that look like the hell hounds, demons that will dig their claws and tear flesh away. demons that are demons. funny thing is that, everyone out there fighting a demon thinks that their demon is unique ; that they are fighting a war that never occurred before and are drunk on ...

  I will stand between the heavens and the earth for you. . . . “You can leave me.” “I won’t. it’s alright.” A big sigh, and a bigger breath. “You shoul d leave me.” “I will not” This place is crowed with so many people, feels like it would have been fine if one or two died. No difference could have been made. Look around, avoid eye contact. “Weather is nice today.” A big sigh, and a bigger breath. Long pause, longer glare. “I don’t want to talk about the weather.” Pauses , and begins fidgeting. Nails, grass, fingers, rings. A gust of wind and pats the sweat off. “It is really … a nice windy day.” Hands held hands; eyes saw eyes; and a confession was let out. “ I don’t want to talk about the weather. Tell me why, what, when. Tell me what you like about ants. Tell me why there is a seahorse shaped birthmark on your belly and on what side and why you think it is a seahorse. Tell me about that one time you overstayed at your grandma’s. Tell me how many times y...

"Stop your crying, baby It's a sign of the times We gotta get away from here;" . . . I had this brilliant continuation of my “I want to be alone” thought. I still pretty much want to cry when things go wrong and not tell a single living soul about it. But I am also terrified of being abandoned, of being left unseen. I think I could love being a curse or wish more than I would want me to be anyone’s habit. You know I want to be alone; but I don’t want to be left alone. You see the difference? It’s a very slight one. I want to have space, but I want it within the walls of something defined. I don’t think I imagine floating in the damn space when I say I want to be alone. I see myself lying in the garden ; I need someone to watch over me , not constantly but warn me before it starts to rain because I have this beautiful dress I don’t want to ruin . And I asked myself, “Do you need someone you can trust your fears with?”. ”Exactly.” I thought I finally reached a part wh...

  Writer’s block I have a few incomplete, unfinished , distributed documents of various topics that I have been writing over months and today is the day I am moving past my writer’s block. (Welcome back, you!) It’s been days since I wrote something. I usually write things that make me sad (I got to find a better word than ‘sad’ ), because I feel this is my safe space (even when I know people read this). Well, this blog is not my safe place; the time, the moment that I am writing this or the stretch of days I have been writing bits and pieces of this is my safe place. Don’t you find it quite poetic ? My safe place being time that will not come back , but leaving a mark (scar) to prove that it existed? I have so much to say and yet so little to tell. ‘It is easy’ you will say, ‘ just start ’. But I don’t want to start because I don’t have sentences that start the story ,I just have fillers. A series of incomplete conversations and jumping over things to process them faster, and b...