Distances take the best of us, so does love; I fear both. I’m uncertain about the greater, but I know one triggers the other. I’m uncertain about the greater, but I know one compliments the other.
I’m afraid how could one influence your life so much and not realize.
Lords, however, never feared distances but they did fear love, for it is said that ages ago you were born with 2 pair of limbs and your heads stuck next to your soul mate, pairs were made in heaven, but then their strengths were infinite, and challenged the reign of Lords. Afraid the Lords split them into two and let one find the other.
They created distances in love.
They created distances — in love.
It’s ironic how you feel most alive when you skip a heartbeat, it’s ironic we are afraid to lose something we could never find.
Walks, rides, drives, jet lags, travels – everything takes us far from the people we know, from the places we know, from the ‘me’ we all know. Sometimes, we return in a few minutes, a few hours or by the evening. Sometimes it takes a few days or at most a few weeks and we already feel homesick.
But sometimes, there’s no coming back.
We all make choices, choices that we are unaware of or completely aware of, choices that reflect immediately, choices that reflect after years, choices we know the outcome of and choices we don’t understand. We make choices. We turn left or right. We brake or accelerate. We say it out or keep it bottled in. And sometimes, there are no choices at choosing between choices we have. There is one choice that is impossible. Other one doesn’t make sense. One sounds like leaving everything you have to get a chance at getting something you want. Leaving your entire career and the bright future that follows to meet your girlfriend’s dad and getting married only sounds like a choice. The other one having no contact for a few months while you build yourself and then get married to your girl is the one that sounds more practical. But do we understand our choices completely? It’s like a menu in an expensive restaurant. We get what sounds good, even though we don’t understand what we ordered. Or a post midnight restaurant where there’s a lot on the menu but only a few dishes are available.
It wasn’t a no contact. It was a break up. There was never going to be a come back. It was a one way passage. You only thought things would go your way without even saying out what your way was. Well, congratulations keeping your word bottled in. You passed with flying colours, now didn’t you? And now that you realised it wasn’t your career that you wanted. It was the car with loud pipes. It was the big mansion with that bathtub and chandelier. It was the swimming pool and the lawn. You can still have it all. But she won’t be sitting in the car with your or standing under that chandelier or in your empty lawn. The one person you wanted to share all of this with is gone.
And now you have been trying to get back with her and it isn’t going so well. And probably you already know you won’t get back or probably you know how to get back with them only that you are afraid to take that path. Or you don’t have faith in your path. Remember a path is a path and there is no wrong in running after the things you want. Yes, you would fumble; yes, you’ll fail and yes, you’ll want to give but just remember life is too long and as long as you don’t die, there are infinite retries only the path every time needs to be different. The force will be with you. Just believe. See yourself where you want to be and imagine what would you do when you are there. And hey! That’s “The Secret”.
Don’t regret because you didn’t get the results you expected.
Take pride because you tried.
Sometimes people don’t have choices over the long distances. Sometimes they never chose those long distances but distances came in from the choice they made a few years back. Sometimes, the other choice sounded impractical. And sometimes, they never understood what a choice meant.
Don’t we all feel the same way? And that’s the problem.
We wait. We wait for things that are never going to happen and they won’t happen because all we are doing about it is wait. Nothing happens at its own. Without you working for it.
Can’t we just stop complaining about the long wait and work for it. Your Lamborghini isn’t going to come and park itself in the garage if you keep the gate open and wait for it to come. You might get stolen instead. Yes, your dreams just got shattered, I know, you just faced a harsh new reality. Even I thought it would come and park and roar and… *weeps* it doesn’t happen though, trust me on that, I’ve been waiting for nearly 20 years now.
It’s okay to feel like you are waiting for things that aren’t going to happen,
It’s not, when you don’t do anything about it.
Blah blah blah… he doesn’t know my problem. How could I even control it!
There are problems you have no control over. There are situations where you can’t do anything. At times, we are helpless. But there is one thing we can do about it. Choose. You could wait endlessly sitting on a bench in your problem’s lawn while it fixes itself. Or you could step out of the gate.
Choose to step out. I’m not telling you to forget about it. I’m not telling you to stop thinking that things are going to be fine. I’m telling you to make these thoughts secondary. I’m telling you to take charge. Don’t be on your problem’s leash, take control.
Being afraid that things aren’t going to be fine is one thing. Not doing anything because of that fear is another. It’s okay to be afraid to cross the road. It’s not when your fear would keep you away from your destination.
Sometimes you can’t do anything about your worries,
Other times, your worries don’t let you do anything.
Change good people.
We are caged in relationships we don’t want to be in. We see the sun, we all do, but we are just too afraid to step out, we are afraid to be single, to know what it is like to be out there again because we all got too dependent and are afraid to lose what we have even if it means endless tears.
We aren’t attached, we are hooked. We don’t love anymore, we just attract, lust and attach. We aren’t glued. We aren’t stapled. We aren’t holding hands. We are hooked. Hooked in the moment, in the heat of the new relationship, in the bliss of knowing someone new. In the clubs, in the bars, over the lunches and the dinners, over the music and the dance, we are hooked in the movies and the shows, and in the summer and snow.
We aren’t attached, we are hooked. We think we love our partners, we know everything about them. But, knowing their favorite color, isn’t love. Remembering their phone numbers, isn’t love. Knowing how tiring their day was at work, isn’t love. We know what chocolates they love, we know what cars they like, we know in what restaurants they dine, we know what music they like, we know what shows they watch, we know everything about them. Really?
We aren’t attached, we are hooked. We know what movies they like, but we don’t know the places they go to, to cry, to weep, when they don’t want to talk to anyone, the place where they cherish their solitude, why aren’t we their solitude? Aren’t we two bodies with one soul? We don’t know that one book they have read over and over and over just to get to the one specific part, to reach there right from the build-up and then just cry or hop at it, even if we do know that book, we don’t know why they read it so many times. We know they are bikers, gamers, writers, readers, travelers, gym-bros, photographers, actors, singers, artist we know them! But, we don’t know the one moment, they had chills running down their spine and this; became and addiction. We don’t know what made them that.
We aren’t attached, we are hooked. It rips the soul to be torn away from someone it is bonded to, it is attached to. You lose a part of your soul when you are ripped away from someone you love. It kills you from the inside. But we aren’t attached, are we? We are hooked. Pull the two ends closer, that’s where all of us want to be, the closest, next slip the loop through the open end, and there you go. Two complete souls, two independent bodies, living their lives to the fullest. Nothing ever happened.
“Hey, so this was fun, we should do it again.”
We aren’t glued, we aren’t stapled
We aren’t attached, we are hooked.
“I know you have to talk a lot more and I want to listen to it, but aren’t you getting late?” I shrugged. I wish I never said that, we were meeting after years and I knew I wasn’t going to meet her anytime soon again but this was something I always did. You don’t lose habits.
“I wish I wasn’t but I am. How long do you think it takes from 127th to 3rd?” A asked.
“Nothing more than 40 minutes.”
“I came back on a tram, not this.” She said pointing at her scooter.
“I considered that already.”
“When did I come here again?” She said staring at her watch.
“It’s been an hour” I said and she stared at me. “You came here at 5.” I continued.
“I’m late, right?”
“Yep.” I said biting my lower lip. Hating the thought that I bought it up.
“Okay, then. Thank you for coming here at just one call, I’m sorry and I owe you one for this. All the history and now this–”
“Hey, it’s okay, we are cool. I had to come. But, if you do owe me, then call me again, maybe?” Why does she have to look at me like that? can’t she take her gaze away! I didn’t want to say maybe! Five years and she still manipulates me with just a gaze?
“If you owe me, call me, maybe?” Why? I said look away! I didn’t say it but get a hint. I don’t want to say maybe.
“I could call you only if I owe you?”
“Both of us know you aren’t going to call again. I’m just trying my luck here.” I said and bit my tongue. She smiled.
“You still bite your tongue.” She said and rode away.
We all want to be Chocolate,
I’m just glad Blueberry never said that,
I hate the “Backspace”
Before technology, feelings never had that.
More often then not, all of us change or try to change to blend into a group, a society, a community or a bunch of people that are “cool” at the school. All of us want approval. We want to be a part of something that catches attention. We want to be known for something, even if we don’t want to do it! Basically, we want people to know us for who we are not? Why? If the above drink was chocolaty, it wouldn’t have caught your eye.
Everyone wants, attention, everyone wants to be famous. You could be great at cat’s cradle but you are just afraid that you are a guy and it would turn out to be a little girly sport for you. Or you love riding bikes but isn’t that too manly? Nothing is gender specific!
Let’s be honest for a minute here. I did that too. I tried playing football and cricket because that’s what every guy does, right? I played basketball for a year. I never enjoyed it, I wasn’t good at it either. I tried blending in the “manly” groups. I did succeed, at the cost of tiring myself and being late for science classes I never wanted to miss a minute of. I had a crush in the classes, but that’s secondary! I love science too.
I tried nitpicking and calling names. I tried back answering everyone because that’s what teenagers do, right? I did it, at the cost of my own sanity. That’s not me. I would rather stay shut, let them talk and when they are done, nod and walk away. I cannot nitpick, would rather extend a hand if you fall down instead of laughing at you. Yes, I laugh at your actions, but not at you. i know you are smart, but sometimes we all act stupid and that’s humor.
I was nitpicked for writing poetry, in my school. It was a boy’s school. I was called lazy because I loved reading books, playing video games and staying indoors. When everyone played football, I would be sitting by the far end of the ground writing poetry about it. Or long passages. Or I would just talk to myself for hours about about what I could write about it and how I should write and what I shouldn’t. when everyone was playing cricket in the evening, I would sit at home and wonder if the protagonist is ever going to meet the love of his life. When everyone went out partying. I would sit at home and pull out jello-shots for the heads of bots.
Years, later today, when I met those cool-school-group, all of them have a belly. The already fat are now heavily over-weighted, the skinny got skinnier and the healthy got beer bellies. Me? I’ve always been a fitness freak. Right from the last year of school, none of them has touched any sport. Me? I’m a published author. I’m selling on Amazon locally and internationally.
It doesn’t matter what people say, there are always going to be naysayers. It’s our choice to not to hear to them. People around you might be succeeding right now, they might me making millions and some might be running companies already when you don’t even have a job. Some might have got married and settled with their idle mate, while you are still heart broke from the break up you had 3 years ago. It’s okay, everyone has a clock, we run with our speeds and our references. No one is going fast, no one is going slow. Everyone has a different race.
If anyone ever tell you, you cannot be anything, just remember we are all made up of star-dust. You are amazing. Just stay what you are. All of us don’t have to be same, none of us are same. We could be red and orange, we could be yellow and orange or we could be white-white in a few aspects. But we are green and purple as humans. No two colors are similar. Stay magenta, don’t try to be pink.
Stay Unique, Stay Weird.
We will be in arms,
“In each other’s heart!”
We will be in countries,
“A thousand Miles apart?!”
We will be thin,
“We will be small,”
We will be thick,
“We will be tall,”
But I’ll always be there,
For you, “writing!”
If you could Promise,
Just one thing.
We will walk,
We might not talk,
“We will fight,
We will cry,”
We will laugh,
“But we’ll never lie,”
But I’ll always be there,
“Hanging on my Sling”
If you could Promise,
Just one thing.
We will sit,
“Under the moon,”
We will tan,
Under the sun,
“At the beach,”
We will run!
But I’ll be there,
“We are never-ending,”
If you could promise,
Just one thing.
Hiding behind tree-stout!
“What you want,
Me to promise?”
You already know,
You already saw miss,
“And you’ll be there?
Slipping in that ring?
If I could promise,
That one thing.”
Are you sure?
Could you do it?
Come on Shoot it!”
I hold your hands,
I kiss your head,
Looked into your eyes,
And then I said,
I’ll be there,
Now and ever,
If you could promise me,
She thought long and then said,
We all at some point have been someone’s dictionary or rather Wikipedia. Maths, games, music, trends, threads you know answers to all their questions. But, sometimes this someone asks you a question you wished you never stumbled upon. You wished you never heard it ever again. You wished… You just wish it didn’t exist.
We all have our pasts, and somehow, we are all not proud of it. There is this weird thing about past, it just doesn’t seem right to anyone. Even though, military men say about their past pretty proudly, there are somethings they don’t share, and if you know the deeper secrets, turns out they aren’t very proud either. But what is it with the past? How could 7.1 billion different pasts be not proud of themselves?
We have made choices we didn’t want to. We were obliged to do things. Now, years later, that we think of it, it seems like the choices we were forced upon, were the fruit of the choices we made or were forced to make in the “then-past”, and those came from the “then-past”. The chain is long and repetitive and seems like the choices we have made were all wrong and so we are not proud of our past? Is that it? We don’t tell everyone our story because we made same choices we are ashamed of? Or might be, it is just that you never went hunting and killed a half ton animal?
We have made decisions in the past not because we wanted to, but because the other choices were scary. “I cannot split up with him!” Is a phrase I heard from a girl, who had called me over and had been crying for nearly an hour or probably more because her guy cheated on her. She had been crying for probably day or months now, those swollen eyes and dark circles contrasted her smile on seeing me. Yes, you cannot split up with him, because you are afraid of your friend’s reaction, your family’s reaction and more so, you are afraid to be single again. You were alone for at least 16 years? 15 or 14 maybe? but you were single and you wanted no one back then! Your Barbies and RC cars were all you needed to spend a good day. So basically, we are not proud of our past because we were afraid at the time we made that choice and we don’t want anyone to know that even “I” could be afraid? We don’t tell our stories to anyone because we are afraid of their judgement? Or might be it’s just because we have never been able to spin a fidget spinner for more than 2 minutes?
Our past is a part of us, and there could be no reason why you aren’t specifically proud of something that’s your own. I don’t see a reason why a gym-newbie isn’t proud of their half-inch bigger biceps, I don’t see a reason why you aren’t proud of the “C” you got on a test, you had failed earlier. I don’t see a reason to not be proud of our pasts and I don’t see a reason to not to be someone’s Wikipedia anymore.
There is nothing like the past, it is the best story you know, because it is the only story you have lived.