Her Thought Piece

Its on my knees, on my back, on my face; a scar. Each is a different childhood story, or a kitchen knife, or a tripping tale into a ditch. Its what these physical unfeeling objects spot my body with, these visible reminders. It’s as shallow as the abrasions appear to be, at least for me. These scars are from a place of pain, other times of fun and cured by an over the counter pill or a band aid and drops of antiseptic that send me screaming all day. They are wounds I would make excuses over; to not do the house chores and that I got guilty pleasures from to not attend school. They are bruises my parents would remember about and bring me sweet gifts in the evening from work. There is that which you do not see, or care not to probably because you don’t know. They cannot be buried like we do dead rats in the backyards. They crouch on to dark stacks of the conscious and the subconscious awaiting a slight touch on the edges to rip open and spill all the gore out. They hide but n

Today I am feeling different. I am having a tilted perspective about relationships and especially at this age. I’m feeling the pressure the society is putting on my shoulders to have someone to call boo or a guy best friend who I will take selfies with and everyone gets jealous. But instead of succumbing to the new age I’m raising my standards higher. I’m plotting my life and I hope it turns out that way.   So how about I just live life. Have a few people around whom I can share my best and worst moments with. Stay busy with anything I can. My writing, wonder lust, pool, swimming, photography, chess or even better a job. When I’m feeling rich go for a shopping spree, cinemas or camping. Through all these activities I will meet new people and make new friends. I will keep in touch with those willing. I suck at maintaining a large web of friendships so in the process some will give up on me. But I will not give up on those who go an extra mile. Those who do not wake up every day t

I am a thinker, any situation that occurs sends me spinning in a cyclone of thoughts. I love to put myself at the heart of it. I love to figure me out, but I don’t entirely. So yes, I overthink most of the time. I came into the world, and as a normal infant I knew nothing about what awaits. My folks say I was the best, you know chill and loved to sleep. So I was definitely fun to babysit. If only I could bring to mind when I started to draw the line between the vice and virtue; but I am convinced that is when I started to fall apart. From then say the two parts (good and bad) have propagated into a myriad of pieces. I recently asked people to describe me and no one gave a similar response to the other. And I anticipate that, owing to the fact that I don’t behave the same way around everyone for obvious reasons. If you met me 8 years ago you would realize that I wouldn’t hold a conversation for more than five minutes. I was very timid and reserved. Not long after back in high scho

The month is still ripe but the year is rolling away fast. Today is intentionally about me. I felt like letting my readers in, unveiling little portions of the ghost behind the blog. I hope that the closure gives you more insight on future pieces of mine. Writing for me has been my greatest discovery. It started right after class eight from keeping a diary. My diary was only a record of intense moments of my life. Then I don’t know how poetry came into play because I would just write things off my head and they sounded like a rhyme. I would read lots of poem up to a whole thick book without tire but sadly it’s almost impossible for me to finish a few pages of a novel. To date reading prose has always been a weakness and I’m not trying to improve anyway, but I can do brief articles. So poetry is my main specialty but I do quite a lot of other things that I may not mention at this time. But today writing is a part of me that I cannot escape. I am a thinker and adding emotions to thi

 Today I saw a boy of about 7 years standing and staring outside from his bedroom window. With a firm grip on the grills, I saw him cry as he watched his mum vanish into a taxi heading to the city. He cried louder when the taxi roared as she lowered the backseat window to wave goodbye. I felt something in my throat and in my eyes, like a sharp pain and tears. She’s left him with her parents back in the village where she visits, barely. This is what the boy has been used to for at least 7 years. A mum who shows up for two days and probably once annually. She is not so busy at the city but she just does not want to be at the village, I suppose. Where most people know she is not just a young pretty woman but a mother who bore a son in her teens. Because I know better, I wouldn’t want to judge a teenage/single mother though I need to ask, ’’What do you see in your son when you visit, just a child who doesn’t know a thing? Do you know he feels you are not there for him, that you cann

      Love should be the most complicated feeling that humans possess. I don’t mean love for family and ice-cream in this case, I mean romantic love. Love is such a big word and sacred in its every form. In whichever way you get involved in romantic love; whether you sought after it or it finds you, be sure it will wreck you and push you to dangerous edges. No one is too smart for love; not the psychologists nor the love doctors or a 50-year old happily married couple. No one is too prepared for what love brings forth because I believe that as unique as our fingerprints are so is every relationship we get involved in. the only constant factor in humans is the fact that they are actually human and everything else changes with the wind, you can never be too sure. From the little I have seen and heard I know I have no right to judge anyone and the decisions they make in their relationships. I cannot point my retributory finger towards a 23-year old girl who clings on to an abusive re

Is being different so weird? I hear people say onto themselves, look at her she’s so weird. Another jumps in “how do people even associate with her, her boyfriend must be weird too… I don’t know who can even stand her.” and then I wonder, what defines weird? All I know any ‘weird’ person is different. She’s the girl who’d rather stay home on a Friday night than go partying, or who doesn’t entertain boys with herself. Or it’s the boy who doesn’t tease girls or he who doesn’t speak so much yet he has the brightest ideas. So the ‘normal’ people never quite understand what goes on in this other side... because normal people are happy most of the time, they know humor and find everything rather amusing, they know how to have fun partying, road trips and hang with the cool people... Normal people are simply basic... knowing too much gets you the weird title, being angry at things and not laughing. normal people are social, they have so many friends, they are confident, life