To You, With Love

"You are worth everything that nature can give you.

And I pray to whatever I believe in that you find your happiness. You find pride in yourself.

And you find true love.

And you can look at that person and understand the impact that have had in your life.

Because you have surprised me with every step you took.

And if letting you go means that I love you.

Then I love you.

Have fun out there." 

― Philippe Renaud

Fears and Fearing

Have you ever had a chance to play with.. say fire? Literally play with it, I mean. When you definitely know it is going to burn you to ashes and yet you cannot help but keep playing with it because the feeling of adrenaline rushing through your veins, the vulnerability, the insecurity, the nakedness in face of willingness, the power of being one to decide whether to hold on or let go.. it gives you is mesmerizing. I have been playing with fire, for a long time now. I know it will burn me, it will ruin me and it will exploit my soul for the rest of my life, yet why can't I just step back? It IS in my control no matter what I say, yet it seems so uncontrollable. Because the relief, the pleasure I get after having played with my own fears is just wonderful. It makes me feel brave at the same time, weak. Weakest of all. Does it make me brave to play with fire or weak to not being able to hold myself back?

Sometimes, we judge ourselves to be strong, we believe we will be strong given certain circumstances. But unless we've lived them literally, we can never offer perfect judgments, not even about our own selves. I know what I am but i do not know what I will be next moment. I know I feel it but I don't know if i should feel it or not. I want to keep holding onto this fire called us, but I want to run away from it as well because no so long from now, this fire may set my life ablaze. And the smoke emitted from that disaster may absorb into the pores of my skin so darkly that they may become a tattoo on my skin, absorbed yet visible, accompanying me everywhere I go. Everyone I meet. 

If music could be the food of love, play it.

I cleaned sweat off my forehead when I suddenly work up in a jerk, as if I had fallen into a dark hole. All i could see around was darkness which is ironic because you don't see anything in darkness but yourself. Or maybe i was seeing myself, in dark. I checked on my cell placed beside me to check on my messages and time and it was tip of the night; 3.00 am. And there were no messages, when i wished there was one.

I dreamed of exactly the thing I am fearing nowadays, exactly the way i fear it, happening to me and making me growl in anxiety. The same happened to me few months back when I was feeling something wrong was happening around me cause i could dream about it but why there was nothing wrong when I asked everyone? And then just a few weeks back, I came to know that there was, in fact, something excruciatingly wrong going on months back and everyone was just keeping it off from me to let me stay away from stress. Boy, what were they thinking? But the good news was that things got back alright by the time i knew about the trouble, so it didn't trouble me anymore.

But now. Its coming back again, and this time I cannot question my instinct, can I? Cause last time it was right, just no one was telling me about it, that's all. So now, even if everything seem perfectly in order, I see everything with the eye full of doubts and uncertainties. Deep down, i have this feeling of contentment as well, that things will turn out okay. Just opposite to what I dreamed, like last time, right? Or not? Answer me! Someone. Just answer me. Because sometimes, you are holding onto that small shred of hope which doesn't from within you if it doesn't coming from around you.

I am hungry right now. So, would leave to eat something.

But i hope, things are okay. I hope.. I don't lose things I still have not been able to imagine my life without.

The title has nothing to do with this post but a friend introduced me to this beautiful excerpt from Shakespeare and I can't take my mind off it.  

Looking for clean Getaway

My heart is sinking. You know, I never know what they meant by sinking in chic flicks that i used to watch long time back but yes, its actually true. Your heart feels like its sinking and you can't breathe normally, because something takes over you, your mind and can make you have a near death experience without even dying. And how about if you start having them everyday? Every moment you think of that person who couldn't do things for you. Why couldn't he? You don't actually loathe that person but yourself. You loath yourself for wanting someone so much or perhaps wanting them to care for you that you crush yourself in that. You crush the fact that indeed you need your attention as well. You start giving that part of attention to someone else too and then people say they have lost themselves. I think we all are to be blamed for losing ourselves to someone. To people. Because they don't deserve it. Its not like I want to be with someone, its just that i want them to stop me when i leave them, to hold me tight when i am fighting to let go, to just not stop waiting on me even when i disappear. Sometimes, you want to be the one making the other wait cause its hard to be borne into the role of one who waits. I don't want to wait but I want to be waited for. I don't want to be controlled by someone else's emotions but I want to be in control of that for others. Its selfish, I know. But you know, you can be that selfish I guess when you have virtually died for two years straight in your life. I am happy, I am fluttering in opportunities, and I am at point of life where I am young and beautiful and I want to make the best of it, and perhaps I am doing that. But something, something inside always makes it all hollow. Not concrete. And I want to kill that hole, the space in my heart that I managed to create for someone. But how can we kill it when its the one killing us?

Sighs. I don't regret a word I said above. 

Running Into Oblivion

Sometimes, we need to push ourselves. The push could be just a little jerk or it could be so violent the we end up putting all our efforts to make us move, move. Move. Get going! Go, start running. What the hell are you still doing here? What more incentive you need to start running than to know that staying in this place is only going to bring you more darkness and eventually you'll end up getting sucked up into this little limbo that's called miracles. Cause believe me, the miracle start to happen once you decide you get hold of yourself. We are accustomed to wait for good things to happen to us. Why can't be it just other way round, huh? Why can't we happen to good things? Who the hell are they to decide when to happen to us and when not? Why can't i take hold of my happiness in my hand? Cause you know what? its hard. Its so fucking hard to get hold of that one thing that defines perfect life. Happiness. We all need it and we all forget it that it exists within us behind all those curtains that makes us imagine it to be invisible. We search for it everywhere. In people, in movies, in distractions, in hangouts beside oceans at middle of the night, in lover's eyes, in his words, in his silent indirect confession of feelings, in silence between two eyes, in cakes, in music, at cleaning our rooms, at washing our soul with religion, at so many things but we forget to look for it within ourselves. All we need to do is stand up in front of the mirror and look at the reflection. That's us, that's me. 22. Bold. Young and pretty. I might never be like this again. Never. These hands might start to wrinkle up and my temples starts to wither. Do i need to wait for that time to come to realize that i should have loved myself now? At this moment when i had everything and yet i was searching for it everywhere but myself?

I don't know what i wrote above. But this is what i wanted to write and i did.

It may Rain or Not

One day, I will be thirty five. Strolling around a grocery store like just another day, looking for appropriate pack of fat-free milk for me and him, and ofcourse full cream for my little ones. And perhaps, in all that mystery of staying young and look beautiful to at least myself, someone from the corner of the same section be staring at me. The stare that would be filled with surprise, longing, delight and a wholesome of regrets. Maybe they would not be regrets but the what-ifs. Or maybe the stare would contain the same electricity which we once had when we were young and shiny. Or.. maybe that stare would just simply be a stare filled with respect, reminding oneself that we did the right thing, that we chose the best of what options we had and that we made it through till that day. Quite easily. And probably the wrinkles cracking on my temples would remind of the time when I used to laugh the loudest at some of the stupid jokes we used to find so humorous in those day, or maybe it was just us who used to understand and squeeze the humor off them. The amount of concentration I would be giving to choosing the right milk pack for me would remind of how patient I was and perhaps, it stayed with me and got engraved in myself. The patience to make the right choice at the end, and which I did. The patience which made me go through lots of times but at then end, it all went alright. And my patience paid off well. And the satisfying feeling once I have chosen the right milk pack illuminating my face would take the time back to when things seemed uncertain to me, when everything seemed uncertain to us, when nothing was wrong and yet not right, and still the step forward into one direction seemed wrong but I forced myself to accept it as right. We did. And look what happened after all these years.

Maybe you would come closer to me, hold my hand and tell me that I am choosing the right milk for our children and for us. And maybe I'd look at you with all the uncertainty as if you know nothing and i do everything and go with it because years back you told me the same thing, and everything turned out to be alright and we ended up buying groceries together in life.

Or.. nothing of that would happen. And you'd silently just turn around and wrap that moment in your heart and make it yours forever. Thinking that maybe whatever happened was right and I would buy the right milk for my children and him. Thinking that maybe it happened for all the right reasons and we never were supposed to buy all that together.

But I know. I would know exactly what we had and what we did. And what was right and what was not. Its just the matter of me turning thirty five and i'd have answers to all those doubts you might have forever.