Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Dreams.

Perfection is the stuff of dreams. If this is true, then I'm having a nightmare. I never knew perfect sadness is possible. You can't be perfectly sad. There has to be a bit of happiness in there somewhere. Or so I used to believe. The world loves to prove you wrong. It has a sick sense of humor. I am perfectly sad. Perfect sadness is the stuff of nightmares. I know of nightmares very well. I have chosen not to sleep tonight. I don't know when sleep will come. It's the dreams I fear. That's where I see him, all the time, in so many different ways. Compared to things other people have experienced, other griefs, other pains, other sufferings, mine does not compare. This is only a broken heart. This is only disappointment. This is only the pain I feel because I think things are unfair. I thought I was special. I wanted to be special. But I think he kissed her, and he hugged her for such a long time. Longer than he did me. And I realized the truth. I am not special. I am...
Read more

Secrets

Shh.. Don't tell anyone. Come closer. I have secret I want to tell you. It's important you don't tell a soul. This is just for you, from me. Now listen. I can barely wake up in the morning. My alarm is a rather annoying song and it plays continuously until I actually bash the button that stops it. Every morning at 7 am. But I'd wake up anytime to watch you sleep. I spend hours looking through recipes on the internet and at least one hour in the supermarket looking for things to cook for you. I'll then slave over a stove and spend a majority of my day making something while praying that it would at least be remotely edible, if not actually tasting good. Then I'll act as if it was something I did at the last minute with no premeditation whatsoever, and tell you that I've made something for you. You don't have to pick it up if you're too tired. It's fine. I'll just bring it to lunch tomorrow. Or something. No biggie. If I know you're going t...
Read more

What is with me these days??

There's this certain strange sensation when you wake up in the morning with someone else in your bed. Someone of the opposite sex. Someone you've been intimate with the night before. Someone who has seen you completely naked and not minding it one bit. Someone who's looked at you with your clothes on and said, "Hey. Let's take these off and have a bit of fun shall we?". Someone you've seen completely naked and you can't seem to take your eyes off, even when they're completely clothed. But this is not about sex or nakedness. This is about the morning after. This is about reading faces in slumber, wondering what they're dreaming. It's about touching cheeks, lips, ears, chest, wondering if it carries into their dreams, if it's you they see in them. It's about putting your arms around them and being warm. It's about the absurd feeling that if the world ends today, you'll be fine with it because you're here, and they're h...
Read more