Un-synchronized Harmonies

"Mira!" "Kay!" *squeals* "How are you? Oh my god, it's been forever, hasn't it? I missed you so much. How've you been? Your hair looks so different. This new colour is so you. I can't believe you finally got rid of all the blue highlights. Oh my god, there is so much I need to tell you. And we have to go see Haley and Mel. They are totally clueless about you coming back. And we- " "Mira, calm down. I only just got here. I missed you too." "Well, you better have. Come on then. Let's get you home. Airports aren't my favourite place to catch up." "I am only staying for a few days so I'll just get a hotel room or something." "Nonsense. My house is big enough for us and the Brady bunch. Not that I'd ever have anything to do with them." No matter how much you try to kill it or forget it, home always catches up with us. I finally got home. As much I hate it, God, I missed this place

To  all the lost and broken ones, Somehow, in some way, we're all broken. Our scars are on the surface, visible to all. Their scars are embedded into them so deep that only a trace of their effect is approachable.  And so us broken ones try to bring them up, thinking that if we take them out physically, if we can just release the pain from inside, it'll get better. That a part of the pain will go away. Or maybe that our pain is inside so we can't understand it. We can't believe its true. If its true, it should have a reason so we cut. To take it out and make it real. That way it happens and there is something real to cry about. That way you understand what it is. That way we try to empty all that inside so we can release at least a small part of it out. Once we can feel it and grieve it, it'll go away.  But it never does. Our scars only make themselves known further and further till they are real. Real in a way we never thought possible. Real so that t

You know why we stopped believing in fairy tales? Because the princesses in fairy tales were beautiful, kind and loving. They were gentle maidens who were loved and adored. They didn't get angry. They didn't make crappy decisions. They didn't skip out of their wonderful castle. More than all that, they had happily ever afters. And while we grew up to be nothing like those princesses, we couldn't wait for a happy ending.

"So what are you going to do now?" "I don’t know", I said hesitantly.  "Haven’t you thought about it? I mean, this is a big deal after all." "I don’t know what I think." "Well, I think you should think." "Yeah, I should." "Hmm" And that's how the night went by, watching the stars, loosing our problems within them. Away from the sounds of the city where shadows of dust overtake the gleam of the stars million light years away from us. Here, the stars shone bright and high up, as if taunting our lowly squabbles with the world. Here, they gave us beauty. Refuge in their beauty from the ugly world we faced. Because tonight we just faced them…and they were beautiful. 

Yes, I'm a weird person. An eternal cynic. A pessisimistic idiot who cannot believe a carrot claiming to truly being a carrot. So people ask me what happened to me. They believe that in the angel-demon theory. I don't. A person may display qualities of both but the two of them cannot inhabit one entity. I am not a demon and I am not an angel. I am a fallen one. I fell from either side and so far, none have claimed their alliegance. People ask me, the believers as I said, ask me what went wrong. What happened to me that made so unwilling to follow, to have faith and maybe, just once in a while believe with my heart and not with reason. To this, I have no answer. Maybe I was born this way. I reason and rationalize my thoughts and feelings. I have an answer to all my dilemmas. I can reason out every emotion but I cannot fathom why I don't believe. Maybe it's a dysfunctionality. I don't understand it myself and for a control freak like me, that  is the biggest cha

You've hurt me a lot. Far more than you think you could've. Your words, your disdain, your disapproval- they've broken me even when I'm at my best. You've taken everything from me by just a condescending look or distasteful comment. You've beat me down. But it is my fault for being so gullible to you- just you, no one else. Gullible to believe you when you say something nice to me or appreciate my work. Gullible enough to think you want the world for me too. Truth is you want the world for only yourself and the rest for me. You may not know it and I may be stupid enough to fall for your manner every single time but I will never forgive you. Especially for these last two years. They've been torture for my pride. I have two more years to go for this torment and then I'll be gone. At least I hope so.  Because if I don't, then I'll break for real. And I'll be gone forever. For real. But that won't be on you, it'll be on me. Just me.

So as I've said before, I am a control freak and one of the worst things about being a control freak is that contemplation means crisis to us. Not knowing what is going to happen, not being able to do anything about it makes us wanna time-zoom into the future and figure it all out. So that we can be prepared for all that's going to be thrown at us. And of course, mixed with my constant cynicism, contemplation is not my best fitting suit.  What to do, what not to do- the eternal conflict. Whether to go away or stay and try? Do I fix things or let them be and hope? Do I give myself another chance or do I pick up and start afresh? Do I pick old friends or new hopes for them? Do I let myself live freely and leave the future or believe in my self-worth and work for the unseeming dream, dropping the value of the present? What should I believe? Contemplation brings me down. It keeps my mind screaming at me and my heart in constant doubt. Being a control freak- not knowing what I

"I had hoped it would all be ok..eventually. But it’s not. And it’s not gonna be. Ever. So I have to go. And it’s why you should too.” “But giving up isn’t-“ “It is.  We tried. It didn’t work so it probably never will.” “But-“ “In case you haven’t noticed yet, trust doesn’t come easily to me. I don’t do second chances and fresh starts. I do goodbyes and after all this time, I’ve become rather good at them.” “Don’t do this. You don’t wanna do this.” “I don’t, I have to. Goodbye, D” And with that I quickly turned on my heel and walked away feeling nothing. Absolutely nothing. As I said, I’ve become rather good at goodbyes. Still here (unfortunately for me) K

This post is sort of a goodbye to a friend. I know she'll never read it but it's for my own sake. For my own little goodbye. A, I'm not gonna pretend that we can keep this up and be BFFs and all that shizz. Cuz that's just not us. We can't work through skype sessions and yearly visits with hugs and kisses and 'how've you been'. It's been great knowing you and you've been an amazing friend. The kind I needed. The non-drama, non-fluffy, non-commitment friend with all the support but none of the answers. You've seen the other side. The one that comes out AFTER I deal with the other crap. All my friends know that side of me. The one they need to know if they're my friends. How I deal with things, how I am etc etc. But you've seen the other one. The normal me-without the crappy aftermath of everything. With all my friends I've done the feelings thing and solutions thing but with you, I've had to none of that. Be it meltdowns

And so I packed up my bags and left, not turning to look back. Didn't take much with me. Didn't want anything to do with my past. Just a few documents, clothes and some cash to survive. And one photograph in the heart-shaped silver pendant that hung around my neck. I left without saying goodbye. Not that there were any to give. So I took the first flight out and left the town I'd always known. Where I had been my whole life. The only place I knew for sure. I moved to a new city. A big city. Where I could get lost in the sea of faces that walk it every single day. The thing about cities is that they're so full of life yet they lack life. They house people and families but they don't house a community. People say that the city is shallow. Materialistic and oblivious of reality. That cities lack a story. They lack character and depth of spirit. But they don't. Cities simply hide stories well. Better than any town ever could. Cities are full of stories. Ther