Why is it that in a crowd of people, I still feel terribly alone.
My mind has a paper aeroplane in on a string, it circles the skies outside while I'm inside.
And the faces around me become blurred so all I can feel is the wind and the marshmellow clouds.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
"The stars are blazing like rebel diamonds, cut out of the sun"
I start each morning with a daily self-inspection. After brushing away wipsy stray hairs from my face, I stare at myself long and hard in the bathroom mirror, tracing the contours of my face with searching eyes.
"Why haven't I found it yet?"
Night bus rides become long journeys of soul searching, of thoughts and unsaid words scribbled roughly in a bag-worn notebook.
Do you know even the birds fly in some formation? I used to watch them every morning from my balcony while consuming my usual bowl of cereal. A secret dance of life that only they know.
I want in on the secret.
The fly overhead with a series of chirps that spell out "live with your heart".
If only it was that easy.
I start each morning with a daily self-inspection. After brushing away wipsy stray hairs from my face, I stare at myself long and hard in the bathroom mirror, tracing the contours of my face with searching eyes.
"Why haven't I found it yet?"
Night bus rides become long journeys of soul searching, of thoughts and unsaid words scribbled roughly in a bag-worn notebook.
Do you know even the birds fly in some formation? I used to watch them every morning from my balcony while consuming my usual bowl of cereal. A secret dance of life that only they know.
I want in on the secret.
The fly overhead with a series of chirps that spell out "live with your heart".
If only it was that easy.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Day, Night and Shooting stars
The story started like this...
There was once a girl who liked the clouds, paper aeroplanes and cut out flowers. However she could not see the stars because she had no heart. Every night she would cry in her little hut until she fell asleep. Tear stains wore themselves onto her pillowcase and no matter how hard she tried to wash them away, they stubbornly stayed, melancholy scars that reminded her daily of her sorrow and pain.
It wasn't easy to sleep, knowing that every day forward and all other tommorrows, you would be alone, because you had no heart to love and no one to love you in return.
The sun took pity on the girl and offered to be her heart during the night. And so every night, the sun will disappear and be taken into the girl's breast.
The girl was finally content. She could see the stars every night. She fell in love with their sparkingly innocence and the stars fell in love with the warmth she created with her burning heart.
They loved her so much that sometimes they shoot themsleves down to the Earth.
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This was how I explained natural phenomena at age 11.
There was once a girl who liked the clouds, paper aeroplanes and cut out flowers. However she could not see the stars because she had no heart. Every night she would cry in her little hut until she fell asleep. Tear stains wore themselves onto her pillowcase and no matter how hard she tried to wash them away, they stubbornly stayed, melancholy scars that reminded her daily of her sorrow and pain.
It wasn't easy to sleep, knowing that every day forward and all other tommorrows, you would be alone, because you had no heart to love and no one to love you in return.
The sun took pity on the girl and offered to be her heart during the night. And so every night, the sun will disappear and be taken into the girl's breast.
The girl was finally content. She could see the stars every night. She fell in love with their sparkingly innocence and the stars fell in love with the warmth she created with her burning heart.
They loved her so much that sometimes they shoot themsleves down to the Earth.
``````````````````````````````````````````````````````
This was how I explained natural phenomena at age 11.
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