On Perspectives.

Today I learned that it will hurt a lot to have your own perspective of things. I learned that even though we might see our unique interpretations as something that sets us apart, they also pull us back to believing the illusion that everything we see is exactly what it seems; that there aren’t more parts to a story than the ones we choose to read. 

But there are. In a world where every element exists in pairs: night & day, fire & ice, real & virtual, matter & antimatter, perspectives too, occur in more than one ways. I always thought I was capable of looking out of the box that limits me to my opinion, that I could see what someone else might want to take out of the situation.

I was wrong. You never really know. 

I learned that a confrontation can help in more ways than it can cause harm. There was a lucid, brilliant clarity, a lightness that I felt about myself as I talked out loud about something that had been pestering me, lingering on in my conscience so ardently.

I am fine, to state my mood in the exact terms. I’m learning how to deal with difficult situations. It is a little hard for first timers like me, but it’s the lesson of a lifetime. I’m trying to keep my emotions in check and not muddle up what I feel and who I am.

So far, this is working out. 

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On Changes.

Things are changing faster than I thought they would. I hate change; I resist it, I try to stop it the same way insulators try to tame electricity.

Crying became my savior today. It could wring me out of my self hatred, of how much I was suddenly beginning to despise myself. It feels good when your body gets rid of poison. I was holding onto poison inside. 

I do not want a confrontation. I’d prefer to run away, as always. Addressing the situation uproots too many seeds that transform into tiny nuclear bombs. In the end, we will be the casualties.

Who am I kidding? 

We already are.

Feeling Differently.

Today was almost reckless. Like a sea wave that wipes away your scribbles in the sand. Pretty scribbles. 

I woke up feeling as if something had eroded my happiness away. Somehow, I Won’t Give Up by Jason Mraz was reverbrating within the hollow chamber of my body, bouncing off of my bones. I almost found myself wishing someone would sing it for me. Someday. So I played it on my phone as I lay in bed: warm, externally but cold, internally. My shuffle playlist turned out to be great, so I began to feel better. 

I gathered all my notes to finally sit down to study. Studying is hard because focus is not a choice. My mind flutters away like a butterfly, being the non physical entity it is; landing on my past at it’s whim, lurking over my present, with it’s cynical eye turned towards my future. I sit at my desk with the utmost dedication, but my mind fails to comply.  

It astonishes me how nothing much changes itself around me, but everyday I wake up feeling a little different. Sometimes, like waking up as a new person. What I feel guides what I do.

But I do not know how to control what I feel.

I Won’t Give Up by Jason Mraz

Magic

There are a lot of moments which have me begging
for magical powers that could freeze the universe for a few moments;
So I could be destiny’s handyman,
and shuffle things back where they belong.

From their frenzied, messed up lives,
relocate people to places they needed to be.
To be the prime conspirator,
and tip the dominos of destiny.

Mend the lovers going astray,
couples parting ways.
Pair love with love, passion with heat.
And you right here,

back next to me.

Affection

Dear you,

I’ll meet you
when I’m in a place where
my peace and mourning touch,
intertwined in each other’s ends and beginnings,
stinking of remorse
in the perfect balance of white;
After having moved on from all that was,
waiting to trip over your imperfections.
Before stepping over the line, for once,
to seek a love that feels
more like sympathy and less like affection.

Yours.

Ramifications Of Relentless Optimism

After half hearted attempts at flamboyant optimism,

I slowly began to wrap my fingers around the cup of realism;

and sipped, hesitantly, doubtful about the intensity of its heat, cautious of letting it scorch my tongue.

It’s lukewarm jolts charged me with electricity, 

shaking every cell that constructed my being with unforeseen energy,

And I awoke, gasping and startled, 

into reality and truth, beyond any doubt.

Having feared the likes of being realistic, l found this new taste of realism dangerous, tantalizingly dangerous- 

but rather riveting for a girl with unrealistic dreams.

Having woken up everyday and gulped down fantasies about the future with my morning coffee,

The farther reaches of my want never settled down at places that lay at the length of my arms-

They settled far beyond them, miles away, out of my short, streamlined sight.

Shortsightedness, as you might be able to tell, never kept me too far from spreading out my arms, 

echoing my thoughts and breeding relentless optimism.

For I always wanted things that I could never quite afford to have,

The magnanimity of which, I believed could brim my life’s empty, catastrophic chasms.

But now, having stepped into complete consciousness, after letting go of my futile whims,

my skin pricked for me to glide into a more realistic

sense of comprehension.

So I, therefore, slowly began to wrap my body around the idea of realism, cupping it, feeding on it as if a parasite, 

and chugged it down into my being, now allowing it’s heat to completely burn my tongue.