CROSSFIRES

          I am dying to know who these delusional writers keep japping about because they have clearly never been in love with the complex creature they claim to be so familiar with. Well nothing for those who love them and appreciate their work including me..!! It isn't necessary to like them everyone has their own choice and a life to deal with, which particularly doesn't require judgements and assumptions made by others. Some might get affected and for some it wouldn't bother them. But sooner or later, as we are surrounded by those human creatures who have left you by living off hope. You should make them realise that the hope towards them is gone.           We usually talk in a general tone, with unknown people and do disclose what they're meant for. We all live within our skin for a matter of time to let any other person come in. Each of us differ in tastes. And while this is going on people whom we need to be with us knows what w...

This twisted logic that plays the tragic song is a balance too mundane to maintain. I seek calm in fragile form, answers to my deliberate war. The fine frenzy that beats to the rhythm is a pitch too loud for the crowd. I seek calm on sufficient isolation, answers to my questions galore. Well I know when we say what is 'perfect person' ,you don't mean perfect. That person doesn't exist. What exists ,is somone who happens to be imperfectly perfect for you. The one who won't take your heart and break the little pieces down even more. The one who can take all the things about you that others might see as flaws ,and somehow make you feel good about  them. The one who can only laugh and pick you up in a hug from behind when you're upset and yelling, and you can't help but laugh and smile. They will probably have to listen more than they talk ,but that's perfect to them. Because that's you. And they love every bit of it. You won't question love, or...

I think I might try to write something,although I'm not sure what. Been reading some old books lately and some poetry by people who could actually write. What I wouldn't be able to sit all day and string words together. Isn't it funny? All of us setting our alarms in the morning just to go off and kill ourselves a little bit more each day. You wait for the things you were promised to. You questioned your abilities to keep someone happy. You disappear into a fog of bitterness and drown in rage. Even after all this, it seems very natural to lean in and know how wonderful you are. Things which are distracted never strips the joy from that moment. It was all real and I knew that. It was the same one from the beginning. My little nudger, the one who loved me from the inside,too. Perfect and lovely-which suprisingly, made it better rather than detracting. I'd been right all along. There's no regret, its just waiting to have things done differently. Its wishing on fo...