there are days when i can hear the cracks in my heart,
they’re then filled by the tears in my eyes,
what it feels like to lose a person you’ve known and loved every day of your life?
i did try to prepare myself you know,
but a war against death and grief can be won by no weapon or gallantry.
my heart sinks a lil deep into my body,
as i try to remain a calm captain with screaming passengers through a storm,
can you ever be prepared for a devastation like such?
does there exist a logic of deterrence with god or any logic at all?
source: DevianArt, Pinterest
You know, there are some years of your life that just pass by, you don’t know who you are anymore, you are someone, but that isn’t you.
You live in the same body, you breathe from the same lungs, you look from the same eyes but you’re not you, get-it?
Let’s call them the Oblivious years.
For me it lasted from 2016-19.
I was a new teen, maybe it was the hormones, maybe it was my inability to cope with the new found consciousness of making decisions or maybe it was a million other things.
But i was lost. Lost in a dense forest like the rattrap peddler (The Rattrap- Salma Lagerlöf) lost.
I simply was someone who wasn’t me. I acted in ways that were not true to who i was and I’m still recuperating from those years.
I still act in ways in which I’m not honest to my core being but I’m getting better.
I know I’m getting better because i crack myself up every now and then just like i used to do when i was a kid. I was quite the entertainer.
I’m honest with those whom i love. They help me be more honest, by loving me for who i am and not who i pretend to be.
So you know, whenever something happens, or in moments that I’m true to myself, i think, we’re getting closer to home. So yes bring it on home baby. ( i am the baby, okay bye)
https://open.spotify.com/track/0WVTQp3SOCuMr08jh1jweV?si=3-uvnzX4SICUptdKpUIbDw Bring It On Home to Me
Okay, I am not going to edit this post or re- read it again and again. This is the first draft and i am posting it as it is.
I want to a house of my own, antique, huge windows, modern, minimalistic, dramatic and mine.
I want a person. Who’d dance with me to Sinatra, tuck my hair behind my ear when it needs tucking and caress my back when he knows I’m nervous.
I want people. Who listen, really listen and care. Who’d have my back. Who’d catch me when I’m free-falling.
I want to be better. To be able to talk to anyone and everyone. To be honest. To be healthier. To be more passionate and compassionate.
I also realise that with wanting comes hardwork.
If i want that house, i have to work my ass off. Earn money. Put in a lot of time and effort to make that house mine.
If i want that person, i have to be rational, understanding, and most importantly, i have to be patient.
If i want people, i have to be like a chimgadar ( a bat, chimagadar just sounds more fun). I have to stick with my people, be a better friend and catch them when they fall.
If i want to be better, i have to make better choices everyday.
Ever since i was a kid, I’ve wanted my life to be like a movie.
Maybe I’ve even conspired in ways to make it seem like a movie.
Why do i love movies you ask?
I don’t know.
I’ve been naturally drawn to them ever since I remember being alive.
What is so special about me loving movies? After all everyone loves movies.
I have this feeling in my heart, like some extra blood pours out of it or I don’t know what but there is this feeling that makes me want to be on the other side of the screen, to be a part of the magic in some way or the other.
It is magic, you know.
Maybe it’s a long lasting whim of a child or maybe it’s the feeling that legendary directors/writers/actors had that drove them to be a part of the magic.
I’ll figure it out someday.
I’ll place a bet on this feeling and see how it goes.
If you reached the end, do watch this beautiful compilation by Aedilsthetic and maybe you’ll feel the feeling too.