A simple yearning

Tears rolled down as she sat to write down her journal. She was overwhelmed with feelings and the utter realisation she was lonely. Her desire to love and be loved was being delayed and every other happiness seemed a little less.

Is it too much to want such subtle expressions in life? She wrote down with a tear dropping down marking the intensity of her question.

To read with a lover and to listen to a lover read. How beautiful would it be. To cherish a moment so precious. For it could be under the street lights on a buzzing night when the entire city seems to be rushing, but we would just sit amidst all the noise and find ourselves embracing in a different world. Each word you utter could raise me and help me find a love unnoticed in the previous sentence. And every time I readout, you could kiss each syllable and lend me your ears to adore them with words. It could be a memoir or a book about memories. A novel perhaps that talks about how the protagonist remembers a man but never finds him. Something magical and a little sad. Something that would make us want to find comfort in each other's voices as we read. 

What is it that I miss? This void around me is surrounding me with something so terrible. The strange realisation that I am lonely most often hits when I stand to brush. I see there's only one brush and that you're still to come around. Ah! I feel sleepy, yet I need to find comfort. Will, you read me in your dreams? Or shall I find comfort in a dream-less slumber? 

She fell asleep with words unfinished. Somewhere on the other side of the galaxy, he picked up the book to start reading where she left off.

Image - One Spring Night (K-drama)

a deranged woman's cry for silencing her void.

There's a void that needs to be silenced. I know, how ironical is it that the emptiness rattles so much. But you see, this comes from the absence of a sort of peace. That packed it bag along with your farewell. What am I mad about? Well the sanity you took along with had every ounce of my conscious being searching for a love that seemingly is not to be entitled yours. I am enraged! Moreover mad! Does any of this make sense? Or am I deranged? Not that I care for I've lost my eyes and my heart has been your shadow since the last goodbye.

hope of helpless memory

Sometimes, I have found a haven in moments. In the temporal space, they created. In the absence of chaos. These moments are vivid and struck right in my memories. They are what I call hope. If there was a dust of unconsciousness in me, they would've been tarnished. They are never lost, they just keep appearing once in a while.

On one such moment, I met you, in the same temporal space. You left, but the memory has carved a void in my heart. 

What do I do, with such a helpless memory?

I guess I just hope.

Healing is (not) static

Time never was kind. It's duty is to keep moving and drag you along with it. If you expect to pause, you are at loss. You are insane. Time walks and you are to walk. The breaking of the heart moves on and heals along with time. But you've to move along. Grasping onto time and pulling it is going to hurt. 

Move on. Love isn't static, neither is a broken you.

Punish Thoughts-1

How do you live like this? With this thought of death surrounding you. Everywhere you look around, you feel suffocated. The urge to puke it all out, but it's somewhere stuck. Ugh. Where am I? What darkness is it that I am surrounded? How are you? I feel I am moved with that. To be precisely sick but having to say I am fine!

There is so much pregnant in my head, and I feel like I'll always be pregnant. There is a need to deliver, but I've yet to find how. What is this guilt that is slowly eating me? This urge to want to throw things, or more like run away. How are they connected? I do not know.

I am upset. I am tired. I am fed up. I am irritated. And there is nothing I can do about it. I suppose. Or there is, but I am scared. And the fear is what's laughing at me. Ah, the blues of life. The greens of life. And a mixture of grey. But who understands? Who do I talk about it? Where do I run? I feel there is a part of me stuck somewhere on the other side of the earth, or galaxy? And I have to run out there. Where is the road? Where are my legs? What has it been that I am no longer existing? Or am I breathing and not existing? Where are these thoughts coming from me? Hahaha. Okay. That's for today. Shut up thoughts. Bye. Let me sleep.