I'm far from being a romantic person. Loving? Not at all. I giggle at the wrong time. My laugh is too loud. I dance weirdly. I often find myself away from people or I find a way to push them away.
But I giggle, laugh and dance anyway.
And whenever I find myself alone, I sing, I think and I write. That's the closest to love that I can ever be. And when I hug the trees and kiss the sunset, when I admire the birds fly and I dance on the beach, that's the closest to romance that I can ever be. I make poems in my head. I make them all the time.
I have always been in love. I'm still in love. I pour all my love to the notepad I write on. I romance the pen. The poems that are still lingering in my head, they say I'm incurably romantic. I still keep my poems. I live more in my imaginations than in reality. And if that's not love, I don't know what else is.
I don't need a him or a her. I'm in love with love itself. I'm a story in another story. I'm somewhere beyond romance. I'm somewhere near love. In between all the love in the air and the romance in the souls, I'm eternal - I'm a poem...
When I stepped out of my cocoon last year, I wanted to create a beautiful life... for myself and for other people like me - smart, intelligent, but unhappy, unfulfilled, unsatisfied, their potentials never tapped into, their hearts smashed every time they typed on their laptops and looked at the clock. Time passes by for them and nothing happens. Or everything happens but just by the clock. Money buys them expensive shoes but where was the time to step out? Every conversation was a game of poker where you bet or you call but you can never fold. It's been a year now. I fear I may have failed. I didn't create the world I promised myself and my invisible readers. What am I doing? My life only got worse. There were places to go to but where were the expensive shoes? Fear, trapped me in an invisible cage I carried with me everywhere I went. My neck strangled by a stranger's hands of expectations. How could I stand up to his expectations when I can't even stand up to my own? ...
read ur writings u are gud in it .. u knw hw to express .... ur thoughts ... now its just now about appreciation ... writers write to feel fee.. from the thoughts revolving inside the mind...
ReplyDeletei see that in u....
regards.... blogger too
Thanks a lot, means a lot to me :-)
DeleteYou are gifted, for sure, in expression of your thoughts. Keep the love flowing on your notepad.
ReplyDelete