Life is Irrecoverably Wasted ...

I guess there’s no point saying I care, I love, I adore, I’m crazy for u, I wanna live with u, I wanna marry and live the rest of my life with u… coz you’ve heard them all… And you’ve been hurt by they who said it.. Hurt many, many, many times by these words. I guess these words means nothing to u anymore.. For there are just words that will cause u pain in the end.. To me, u mean the world.. to me u are my world, my heart, my soul, my life… to me you are my everything… I know you’ve been hurt, many times.. by those u loved and by those who said they loved u.. I’m sorry u had to hurt, I’m sorry they hurt u.. I’m sorry u have trust issues, I’m sorry u have been hurt so badly until u are so afraid to let another love stay.. I’m sorry u have to hear all the words they who hurt u said once or said many times.. And right now I’m making it worst by keep saying it, over and over again.. Everyday.. Eventho its just my fantasy, I still wanna dedicate this to you. You might not believe ...

Across a park. A stolen glance. A lifetime of wondering if I'd ever see you again.

Sweet Hidden Truths… We often lie. We all lie whether we like to admit it or not. White lies are almost unavoidable just so that you don’t end up hurting someone. I guess it’s ok that you tell a small lie than cause a big emotional turmoil by telling the truth. Honesty has always been my policy but when I can’t be honest without hurting someone, I prefer to keep quiet. And then, I’m lying. Yes being silent without being able to tell the truth can be equivalent to lying. Words don’t always have to be used for it to be a lie. There’s nothing I can do about it either. Silence is just a kinder way of lying than using hurtful words. What Are You Doing? Coming to Words, it’s hard to look at a person or listen to them talking and decide if they are being truthful or not. People behave in bizzare ways and I believe we humans are way too complex for even our own selves to understand us. People often don’t have a problem in lying but hate it when being lied to. It’s human nature. The fact that...

To all the partners who walked out… Sometimes we all have our questions. We seek for answers and we don’t seem to find any. Was it meant so? Should we make mistakes again and again so that we finally would realize what we are doing wrong? Do we actually realize what we are doing to people who love us? Do we know what they feel? What can we see in their eyes? What does their smile tell us? Is their heart talking to us? Do we understand? Do we feel? Do we know? Do we want to know? Sometimes things don’t work out the way we have hoped. Sometimes we feel lost and confused. Sometimes we make wrong decisions. Sometimes… we hurt… Sometimes… we don’t know that we hurt. And sometimes it is too late to change things. This article is for someone… someone like you or me, someone the next door, someone you know or someone you used to know. Read it and see if you can recognize yourself here. When she got to know you, you were there to understand her mind. When she liked you, you reached out and...

Every day is a battle. Every. Single. Day. It starts the moment you struggle yourself out of your bed in the morning and ends in the late evening when your seemingly restless mind finally gives up to sleeping. Every minute of the day you fight. You fight your own fears, your insecurities. You try to be the best in everything you do. Each task, each assignment. You are trying to find who you are, where you belong. You search for the answers, and when you don’t find them, your mind creates new questions and then even more of them. You struggle against uncertainties. You fight for the better future. You are who you are but you know you can be more than that. And you are trying to prove it. To prove that you are good enough. To prove that you can achieve whatever you want to. You are setting goals. And to get near them is a small battle in itself. Each one of them. During the day you pull yourself through dozens of small fights. And at the end of the day, you are exhausted, overloaded ...

I am a lover. I remember… my color was black, the material was leather, the seduction was beauty, my justification was honesty, and the aim was ecstasy… I came to seduce you into a love of life; to help you become a little more poetic; to help you die to the mundane and the ordinary so that the extraordinary would explode in your life. I was then silently drawn by the pull of who I loved, which engulfed me with spellbinding grace and haunted in weirdness. It forced me to dream. After becoming a dreamer I could only find my way by moonlight and my punishment was that I saw the dawn before the rest of the world. I am no poet. I write memories I seize nothing inside. There are many ways to be free. One of them is to transcend reality by imagination, as I try to do, and poetry, my friend, is an odd jealousy—the poet never finds himself near enough to his object. My life seems like a patchwork - here and there. Scraps of pleasure and despair joined together, hit or miss. I want to rem...

I begin by counting the days, then the months. I don’t count anything anymore, except the hope that you will return, and the silent fear that in the years since we saw each other this distance—this awful distance, will have changed us both beyond reckoning. My love where are you? With hope I write to you… as I have always done. I am still waiting as I promised I would. But, I find myself alone and at the end of my wits. Today, after so many days I decided to go out for a walk. It was supposed to be a chilly night so I decided to wrap my favorite shawl around me before I headed out. Oddly enough, it took me 15 minutes to wrap it around myself. I stood there in front of the mirror; I would try to fix it but it just wouldn’t stay on my shoulders the right way. I was becoming increasingly frustrated since it was not the first time I was wearing this particular shawl. I finally just wrapped it around me however it could be wrapped and went out. It didn’t look the way I wanted it to look, ...