About

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I've been writing ever since I found out its an inseparable part of me.

This universe is fascinating and we're leaving footprints with people and in certain events.

I won't say this is a self-discovery blog because every day we're the same and different in a way. This blog is just to give way to my mind, to make sure I'm not wrong. If I am, that'd again be a proof that life is, after all.. life.

Love ♥

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Of Moving Forward- Part II

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Sitting here, I wonder if it's about seeing in the mirror and liking what I see. 'Your eyes speak', they say. With every look of myself I get everytime I see, they, my eyes, seem to want to confront me. With all my honesty, I say, I run away from them. I try to. But the next time, everytime, it's a sensation of their coming toward me more hurriedly. They must be knowing the truth behind all the lies under the Sun I may have happened to tell myself in order to keep going. It's what I am used to do. To keep going, not knowing how far but far still. I am not used to the comfort there is in stopping for a moment or two. The comfort doesn't comfort me enough, although the view of it I get is inviting and tempting. I do not like the idea of walking the carpet that could take me somewhere I may be told I could dream. It doesn't completely satisfy me, being somewhere for a long time where there is everything I like. Going somewhere for a while where they may
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Some time off

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That moment arrives when a normal day starts feeling like a storm all around you. The air feels cruel. The winds, even more. You hurt. It doesn't go away. It troubles you outwardly. Your head feels empty, but gets heavier every minute. The weight of never-ending thoughts, insecurities and the fear. You try badly for this storm to stop. You try not to let anything enter your mind for you know you'll have to pay for it. But what you avoid, identifies you. What you're supposed to be like, kills you somehow. Every thought leads you back to that same place. You long. You hurt. Like a beggar. Full of regrets. Full of what ifs and buts. You're nothing inside but everything inside you is just too much that you feel the space isn't enough. You feel weightless. But it feels like the burden is breaking you and pushing you down the floor, deep down the tiles of your room and even the sand thereafter. You don't stop trying but the storm always wins. Like it has won, r
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Smokes in the air

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Maybe this is because life currently has become steadily non-happening and so I walk in circles these days, without coming to a halt. I find myself sleeping for more hours than I usually do and probably need. I must be going to sleep feeling longing for something or nothing at all for I feel even number when I wake up. I have things to do but I've kept most of them away for a while. I have friends to meet but I don't go out lately. When I do, its with my cousin brother. The fresh street and head lights add a specific feel to the pretty, happy and busy faces I see on my way and I am just shown another side of my mood that doesn't last long; a feeling as I reach home, knowing I'll again be the same person enjoying solitude. The time spent playing old games with the ones I have blood relations with put me at ease somehow and I suddenly miss my family. My own people. They're there in front of me but I end up missing them more than ever. I remember how I was brough
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