Fickle Friend
Sorry is a word that means nothing anymore, like a Frisbee being tossed around on a summer day. It's just another word that has entered into disuse. We are living in a world where some things hold little to no value. People are outright liars. Friends are outright liars. Camaraderie is too fickle a thing to fall into. We keep on bending over backwards, forcibly trying to gain each other's trust. We keep on grasping for something that we could never get, like an unreachable chalet up the mountain. We move heaven and earth for something that wasn't really there ...
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A Feeble Attempt
It's strange how you think you can capture your feelings for someone in a few words and when you go do just that, you discover that the said feeling is ever expanding, beyond your reach, like a galaxy. And every attempt at expressing it is powerless ...
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Puzzle pieces
More often than not, people fall for the person who they say "fixed" them or the person who "put the pieces back together". The first person who showed up to their doorstep when they were wallowing in heartache. Like all they want is to be saved. Like all they need is to be saved. I was happy then, as I am now. I've been running on dirt for so long. So I want to tell you, all of you, that I don't need fixing. I never needed any fixing. I'm not some puzzle that you have to figure out. I ...
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The one who never was
Dreaming of you has become my worst fear. Because I shouldn't be. I do not wish to be with you. I do not even think of you. We had our chance, we blew it. I don't even consider that as something real now. There were times in the past when I was concerned about you until I slowly came to realize that no one can change you but yourself. No one can save you but yourself. The people around you can try, but in the end, it boils up to you making that decision. You may or may not have ...
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My Mother is a Star
My mother is a falling star. Leaving all that is golden about her in her trail until she is nothing but blackness, or maybe a grey rock that crashes through my window and into my loft. Bleeding out all her glitter on the way down to rock hard ground. Going from something I always imagined to be a warm glow to something harder, more weathered. More enduring. My mother was a star. She was the bubbling youth, all the freshness of spring and attractiveness of summer moulded into a human being. My mother is a fallen star. A rock in ...
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Fifty Shades of Garbage
Perhaps you can grasp from the title, that I, too, have hopped on the band wagon and read (or at least tried to) the over-sensationalized Fifty Shades of Grey. Yes, I did, just to see why it has caused so much stir. Bottomline? It's pure rubbish. I just had to stop reading after seeing "He cocks his head to one side" for the fourth time in three chapters. I didn't even bother trying to read further and get to the graphic part (which the book is all about). Now I wonder: Why is there such a hype over something this ...
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