Misplaced. Misunderstood. Mistaken.

I’ve learned that with people like me, who have taken absurd exception to the ability of expressing their love or concern with words and pleasant actions, life is a lot tougher and usually passes in absolute isolation. I’ve always been a staunch supporter of showing love but it just doesn’t happen when it should, and on other times, it is just not as relevant. 

There have been people I’ve loved more than I’ve loved myself, I’ve been there for them whenever time and situations demanded but life has found ways to befool me in ways that I fail to understand. You know, that feeling you get when somebody who has your heart comes and tell you that they’re disappointed because they feel they don’t hold a lot of worth in your life. That feeling is quite similar to being punched in the middle of your chest and you just wouldn’t catch back breath until it settles in. And well, it never does. 

I am not really an introvert, never been one. I mean I won’t count as an introvert unless I unbecome the chatter box that I am right? However, letting people in my inner shell is a task. I want to show them the real person that I am but it just doesn’t happen, not until I lock horns with own self and rebellion is just not my thing. And you know, explaining people what lonely means to me is so tough that I’d better shut up and let what they throw at me sink. And sometimes, I become so unaware of my surroundings that what I feel becomes surreal. I am not lost, not really but it happens in a heartbeat and suddenly, I’m paying more attention to what my nails look like or what the universe is made of. You know, like I’m treading a path that I don’t know the direction of but I want to keep walking because what people tell me has become a routine, like my inner self knows will come some day sooner or later. In fact, my inner self constantly lives in a fear of it and whenever it happens, I feel like I have to walk faster and faster. Often times, I want somebody to catch my hand while I’m telling them to leave me alone and hold me with such love that this entire drama of vulnerable lonely self disappears but apparently, life is too demanding and people too impatient.

Sometimes, I think it is really selfish of me to expect them to understand when even I am not sure about what I feel, what am I doing and where am I going. Life is a silly thing that makes us believe that the world should revolve around us and believe me, it has really clever ways of doing so. I’ve accepted things as they are because they’ve been this way for as long as I can remember and forever is a long time right? I’m not unhappy but I’m not happy either and there’s a lot of difference that only people hanging in the middle would understand. Life is so underrated and so misunderstood. It is so romanticised that it has lost meaning for most of us who live in a constant paranoia. I think, there can be 2 people, both lonely and yet in ways so different that they’d never get to each other. I wonder why it is so difficult to tell them what you feel, I know it is really tough because even words fail me when I want to write them about it. This too shall pass.

There is hope! 

I am uncomfortable in my own skin. There is a voice that starts from the bottom of my belly but fails to reach my mouth, it gets stuck somewhere in the backside of my throat. My body mechanics has started betraying me as well, the tears do well up in my eyes but they refuse to fall. I’ve trapped myself in my eyes. I’m not sure I’ll get to you but you get to me. 

I want to scream until every part of my body hurts, I want my heart to have an orgasm. I want to scream so loud that the universe is blown away into a black hole. I think that would be my safe valve. I have so much fire inside me that the world might burn down to ashes if I open up to it. I want to bleach myself black because I like it, I don’t want you to touch me. Not today.

I feel there are mosses clinging to my skin, biting me in tandem. I want to shrug them off but my hands won’t reach the middle of my back, there,where my energies rest. So I let them be, they’re starting to become friends with my body. They are consuming me, whole of me, slowly. 

Have you ever tried running so fast that you feel you could die? Like you could be so tired and your body won’t make up for the energy you lost? Like if you lie down, you’d never be able to get up. Does that scare you? Because it does not scare me anymore.

I feel like the walls of my stomach will burst with everything that I’ve hidden there, away from my mind and heart. I feel like there’s an enormous space inside me, empty and wild. I am surprised how I started paying that kind of attention to myself, my void was better when I didn’t know it existed.

I’m closing my eyes tonight like I close them everyday. I hope tomorrow will bring a new life for I’m willing to wait. I refuse to quit. Even if it is a sad life, it is mine. After all, the grass is greener where we water it. I’m not dying, not today.

Love making or love in the making?

The following write up is inspired by the emotional rant of a friend after she made love to her soul mate. It has nothing to do with my personal life or anyone else’s, in particular. 

My lips fell on yours like I tasted snow and the sky, both at once. As my tongue moved inside your mouth, I felt like I found an eternity in disguise. Your hands held my face with such passion as if all the keys on piano cried in unison. Your body felt like ice against mine, some droplets of sweat drawn on our face like dew from a chilly winter night. You moved with such precision, my hips followed suit in harmony as if dancing to an old song on the gramophone with our bodies swallowing each other in the wake of that moment. I felt like I had reached the zenith of a rugged terrain. My heart was full of brewed emotions, hot and pouring out like a tsunami ready to drown me and you. My fingers were dazzled from moving all over the surface of your tanned skin. My body aches in places I wouldn’t mention to you for things you already know. My hair are unkempt with all the wars you waged on me at the battleground of my bed, but oh thank god, I won. Right now, I feel so precious as if I was made of gold. I look at myself like I’ll catch a glimpse of the night where you broke into my soul and left a big wide hole there, a hole that you would later repair. 

That hug?

Growing up, love for me has always been the idea of hugging someone. No, not just hugging them, but embracing them like it was meant to be the last parting hug, with that intensity and fear of losing someone. You know, people kiss, make out and have sex but that is not intimacy. Not according to me. Touching their bodies has a lot to do with the need, sexual, emotional? I do not have an idea but touching their souls and literally their hearts has a lot to do with want, how madly you want them? Show them. Hold them so tightly that you embrace their insides,so that you are able to synchronise your heartbeat with them and so you know how hard they breathe when they’re around you. See how their breathing pattern changes as you clasp them harder and warmer. Do not try to let go sooner than them, notice how long they hold you so that you know how much they’ve always wanted to be so close to you. Try to steal a glance and see if they’ve closed their eyes or not. Take all the warmth they have to give and give back just as much, for whatever that is worth. Try to satisfy the appetite of their hearts and yours. See how that work wonders. At a time when nobody has time for themselves, let alone other people you would never know how bad someone wants to hold you. Try to steal an eternity from a few moments, try to steal a little bit of life from their arms. You’ll know what intimacy feels like. 

Hey, since I cannot hug you lovely friends from the blogosphere..I’m sending a virtual hug.

Also, tell me who did you hug last? 

Those words. 

Your words remain in my head longer than they are supposed to be there. They make home in my sub conscious self. They stay there like geometrical patterns, too easy to understand but closed and isolated. I try so hard to let go of them but they keep coming back to me like an old friend, a friend that does not fit into my life anymore. They challenge my intrepid thoughts and naive instinct. They shut me off to new beginnings and judgements, they make me go in circles around them. They’re clingy and they make me wonder if I want them at all but they won’t leave on my command, at least not until they debilitate my ability of making right decisions. 


I created these using an application- Mirakee. It is available on android and is super easy to use.

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To be liberated…

I’ve tried too hard to hide myself beneath a garb of apathy and ignorance, I’ve run too fast and too far. I’ve tried to build myself walls that capitulate solitude to me, bound me to the conventional and to the susceptible. I’ve tried to escape discomfort and make it look romantic so that nobody would know. I’ve tried so hard to shut down life on purpose and build a tomb over the grave of my original thoughts, more so, to my vernacular. But after all this time, I want not to be lost but to be found. I want to break these walls and throw the bricks at everyone who did not care to find me while I was hiding. I want to melt down and flow through the crevices of the window panes into the open. I want to unzip myself and expose the oblong of myself to the parallels of the world. I want to break away from the person I had become. I want to be free and not the kind that does what she wants to do but the kind where, let’s herself want more and more out of herself. I want to be..liberated. I want to live more than I used to think I was capable of.