Perhaps the ache lies in between all the disapprovals of my mother toward my decisions (clothing, food, hygiene, study, breathing, living), and the silent noes of my father which I heard only as loud approvals (yes you can go don’t you dare, silence I wish I could murder you). Perhaps the ache lies in between all the things that I want to do and all the things that I’m expected to do.
I want to know when it became the norm to slog my mornings in brick wall institutions, when I’ve spent so many truant daylight hours learning more in the city streets and fading trees than in those cells. I want to believe that there is more to life than wanting security, stability and love but this conditioning of thoughts doesn’t seem to degenerate - except when I found myself more secure running about learning to survive on the least amount of credit, more stable on limited amount of material possessions as I try to mix and play, and I found more love on the days when I had too much love from broken roads, mud huts and roadside chaiwallah cots.
I look through these trees compressed into skin cutting weapons, and wonder if they hurt us only to spite us, to mock us for our futility over things, and then I am not so surprised at the hatred I feel for caged institutionalized settings. Perhaps the ache lies between what I thought I wanted, and what I’m not sure of wanting any longer. I want to know how I can find myself as easily as I can lose myself, how I can find myself in the same sea within which I wanted to drown, how the same cigarette that hurts also heals.
Perhaps the ache lies between all that you are, all that I am, and all that Time and Life have pushed us to become.
8:19 pm • 19 April 2014
I simply cannot study anymore. The Lord has not given me enough strength.
9:54 am • 19 April 2014 • 1 note
I just really really miss home. It feels as if these past six months have been going on for years.. can’t wait until the next two weeks pass.
6:52 am • 18 April 2014 • 1 note
Can’t stop eating Reese’s??? Surely this is not healthy???
7:05 pm • 15 April 2014 • 2 notes
The other day on my way back from meeting a friend, I was followed by a group of male eyes, fixed upon my stride, upon my moving limbs. It took me back to the time when a man told me he wanted to fuck me as I walked just ten meters away from him, and all I wanted to do was strip myself of everything that made me a female. Just this week I had another man come up close to me, and breathe onto me that he had no problem with what I was doing, but the others were complaining, only to walk away and laugh me out with his mates. All I did was hold my anger back and walk away. Lately I’ve been crossing roads with everyone’s eyes on me as I try my hardest to seem invisible, but it seems that the more I try, the more concrete I become.
I’ve been speaking of bad intuitions that have often come true, but maybe this time it’s with regard to me. I haven’t felt more afraid, more hopeless, more unknown to myself. The instances of vulnerability have become even more than I can count since three weeks now. I can’t breathe as easily as I used to, and my heart is heavy with the anger that I hold back to save myself.
And all this isn’t any easier when I miss you so much more than ever. Believe me when I say that I don’t deliberately try to remember you, but you’re just.. everywhere. I’ve been keeping myself busy, keeping my thoughts busy, but you somehow end up on my mind.
My mind is going to pieces with everything around me, and with everything within me. Nothing feels like home anymore.
3:30 pm • 31 March 2014 • 1 note
You said that I ask too many questions, and maybe it’s because I’ve grown up doubting everything, and it doesn’t surprise me. I set my ego aside for you, I let all my guards down for you, and I let you in my life the way I hadn’t done for anyone in a long, long time. What did you instead? Your answer for that resides in the November and December of 2013. You came back, and I took you in again, but I questioned and doubted even more this time, because as much as I wanted to trust you entirely again, as much as I wanted to blindly let you walk me through this life, I was unable to. But ofcourse I ask too many questions, don’t I, darling?
You are just like anyone else that has come and gone - you fed off my soul until you had your fill, until you were satisfied, until you got what you wanted and now I’m left with this half empty-half cracked shell of myself. The only difference was that for the first time, it was actually love. Not for you, I suppose - I feel like a fool for having believed you, because I gave you nothing but the truth of my being, and I received nothing but lies.
To you it was a game. To me it was supposed to be an entire life. Remember how I told you that if you left me, I’d never be able to belong to anyone else? Well darling, I meant it. Sadly, because I only say things that I mean, I assume everyone else means what they say too. You replied that you’d never leave, but isn’t that what you did? Time and time again. It really, really hurts now, yet I’m the one constantly apologising for myself. My weakest point is that I only look at the good that remains in a person, and that is how I want to remember you - because under the exterior of an asshole, I still believe you’re a genuinely good person. But this is also why I keep getting hurt over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again, and I don’t know how to be an asshole, darling. I hope you never have to be where I am, and I hope no one ever hurts you as much as you have me.
It’s just as you’d said - I’m a newborn. I don’t know why people say things they don’t mean. I wish they wouldn’t, because it hurts so, so much. And then you ask me why I keep asking questions and not blindly believe you? It’s ironic, isn’t it? My heart, my poor heart and soul, they hurt so much.
Because my favourite part about you was everything.
9:57 pm • 20 March 2014 • 2 notes
I just feel really empty today. And I hate it.
7:42 pm • 13 March 2014 • 1 note
Love happens only once, and I would know that. Because now that I’m older and wiser than before, I realise that it never was love.. until you came along. Earlier it was only a way to fill, to compensate for my emptiness.
But with you, all I know is that I will not leave, and I will love without wanting, and I will be patient - even if it means that you might belong to someone else if destiny doesn’t work how we want it to. Because for the first time in my life, I am in love - not to fill my emptiness, but for the sole reason of giving, of loving.
It is love for the first time in 19 years. And if I’m lucky, you’ll be the first and only.
1:15 pm • 11 March 2014
Not even my roommate knows how deep I’m drowning. It’s become so much more easier to put up a facade all the time, pretending I’m okay, pretending that I’m strong when I know I’m not. And it’s so much harder when I know what I have to do to pull myself through this.. but I’m so tired of having to pull through all the time.
But how do I do that when I can’t even connect with anyone any more? And I’ve been okay for a while, but I miss you. You broke down every wall I had built surrounding me, and with you I was entirely myself. I miss what we had. I miss how I could truly be myself with you - without any fear, without any anxiety.
I miss you so much.
2:14 pm • 19 February 2014 • 1 note
Currently listening to The Weeknd and smoking my lungs out. Also whipping my hair back and forth because it’s been growing and it’s so soft and smooth right now!!
9:26 pm • 16 February 2014 • 2 notes