Sometimes... I am happy.
I keep smiling for no reason.
Keep hugging and kissing my dog.
Sometimes... I am frustrated and broken.
I want to tear my writings and scream aloud.
Nothing feels right and I sink in darkness.
Somethings...happens all the time.
I give up under stress or mood swings.
Sometimes... I expect too much.
That others will inspire me?
Sometimes, being alone is a curse.
At other times, it seems like a blessing.
So happiness is confusing to understand.
Dark and lonely moments when I cannot breathe.
I don't see any hope in my dreams.
My silent cries suffocate.
I look at my wrist and wish for a permanent escape.
Can I free myself from this ache?
Alas, the coward in me takes the opportunity away.
I may seem funny but do not blame me if you get bored later.
My advice may help you once or twice but there is no guarantee it will lead to good outcomes.
I get angry and shout, so, be careful before you try to get close.
I smile mostly but does not mean I have success.
I have plenty of fears but I can hide them well.
If you think you can fool me with your fake talk then goodbye because I can see through you as I can see myself- clear.
An Old Lady
M found an old lady at the park.
"Excuse me" The old woman smiled.
"Can you take care of my bag? I need to use the public toilet."
Without hearing reply, M went away.
M came 5 minutes later and tried to take her bag.
"This is mine" The old lady argued and fell during the scuffle.
"Why bother an old person?"
A couple confronted M.
Meanwhile, the old woman vanished.
The next day, the old woman sat with a young girl who had M's bag.
M angrily went closer.
"My Grandmother has Dementia." she gave the bag to M.
I don't like dogs with two legs and two hands.
They are the real burden on Earth.
They harm those close to them.
Bite the hands that loved them.
Men-dogs say they don't like four-legged dogs because they bite; well, I don't like two-legged dogs backstabbing sites.
They cheat and commit fraud without guilt or remorse.
Four-legged creatures are at least loyal and smart to some extent.
Too Good To be True
Slowly, I begin to laugh, and it grows louder and louder.
I can see the fear in his/its eyes. A smile grows in my mouth.
I can hear the remark.
I point to its head, and then it starts to beg.
"What have I done to you?"
I say nothing.
My hands begin to sweat, and my heart races with excitement.
His stinky fear makes me content and joyful.
I look in his eyes and say, "Finally, some poetic justice!"
Thrill and joy.
This is what I am good at. I have tried several other things in life, I know deep down that writing suits me well. I am a highly emotional and sensitive person, writing offers me a channel to harness my frustrations and anxiety.
Though sometimes, I need outside motivation to write, otherwise it comes to me naturally.
Good writing at the end of the day provides thrill and joy.
Everything suddenly becomes beautiful and poetic.
Sometimes, when my work is not appreciated, I lose confidence. But, I am trying to believe in me and my writings. I am a fan of my own writings. I love to read them again and again.
I have been a vegetarian for the past 30 years. Never ate egg or meat. But, due to certain deficiencies, I had to start eating eggs. When I lived away from home in a separate city then it was fine.
My mother is a stauch vegetarian, she would never allow egg/meat in her house. When I came back to my home, I had to hide eggs in an underwear drawer, books cabinet, sometimes, I would not take them out of my bag.
One day, I boiled eggs, and kept them in lower shelf in kitchen. My dog snitched me out. Her nosy nose brought attention of mother to eggs. That day, I heard loud ranting.
Eggs were thrown in dustbin, along with the boiling pan.
But, I did not give up. I had to play hide and seek with mother and eggs. It has become totally comical.
Initally, I was agitated, now I take it sportingly. Just I need to keep my dog's nose in check.
A dull boring life, bereft of delight.
A dream lays dormant, as I sleep tight.
A day, a month, a year, a decade passes like a flight.
I hate dying like this.....
I can't say how I want to die, but, how I don't want to die:-
- drowning in the vast ocean alone
-burning of flesh.
-accident cuts me to pieces.
-cancer break me to death
-stabbed by a serial killer in darkness.
-suicide-jumping off a tall building, eating poison.......
There are many more dreadful ways of dying...I hate dying in any of this way.
I have not yet thought of how I want to die.