different.

The past makes you who you are today. All those cuts and bruises you suffered have turned into scars. Those of which are perfectly permanent. All those places you have been are constant reminders of everything good and bad. All those people you met have changed your life. Sometimes for better, sometimes for the worse. It changes the way you perceive others. It changes your future connections. Some of them you will meet for the first time, some of them you have not met for a very long time. It changes the way you trust people. It changes the way you think about them. It changes the way you feel about them. It changes the way you feel about yourself. Sometimes the past changes you for the better. Sometimes it changes you for the worse. Sometimes the past makes you more receptive. Sometimes the past makes you more defensive. Sometimes you wish you can change the past when things turned out wrong. Sometimes you have to take it in your stride, no matter how great or troubling things can get. Sometimes you wish you could run to the future because the present keeps reminding you of the past. Sometimes I wish you would understand why I am like this. Sometimes I wish you would at least try to see things through my eyes even though you have not walked a mile in my shoes. I don't want the same things to happen to you too. Because I don't want to see you hurt, as much as I've been hurt. I don't want to hurt you. But sometimes you hurt me and I'll end up hurting myself. And we'll end up hurting each other. The past is something which I can never erase. It makes me who I am today. All these wounds have healed but my scars will exist perpetually. Sometimes I wish your touch could erase these marks that have been left. But they still surround me, on every part of my body. Sometimes I wish you could embrace these scars and accept me for who I am. Accept me for my past and why I am a changed person. And that change is not necessarily a bad thing. I need you to help me with the present and make me look forward to the future. I certainly do not want to be reminded of my past. Howbeit, some places, people, and things just remind me of them. It's not that I want to. But they come and go without my control. I need you to protect me from these external influences. I need you to be the security for my insecurities. I need you to be there for me. I need you to not give up. I need you to stop blaming me for things that are beyond my control. Most of all, I need you to understand. To understand that we are different in different ways. And try your best to accept that.

And I'm afraid to say that I can't speak to you till you at least try.

Because I know I'm trying my best too.

beautiful thought.

Doors. A piece of furniture. Wooden, plastic, metal and sometimes glass. Doors open your life to many possibilites. To a loving family after a hard day's work. To a blind date knocking nervously. To an interview that might just change your life. Some doors are able to open from both sides. Some doors only open from one. Some doors slide open. Some doors are locked. Some doors have no locks. Some doors are left abandoned. Some doors invite people. Some doors say keep out. Some places have many doors. Some places only have one door. Doors are passages for connection. Be it internal or external. Doors can be broken. Doors can be repaired. Doors can be taken apart. New doors can be installed. Doors protect you. From burglars and strangers. Maybe from ex-lovers and everything evil. Doors keep convicts confined with metal bars and chains. Doors open your eyes to a beautiful aisle on your wedding day. Doors open you to a room, where hopefully in a few hours, you would get to see your newborn. Doors open with trembling hands to a room which smells like death. Only to see your loved one alive. Some doors close from above. Some doors close and open you to a different place entirely. Some doors bring you to the next life.

Doors open. Doors close.
Doors are there for a reason.
Doors open and close in life.

Crossroads.

Nobody ever wants what they've got.

The bottom line is that we never fall for the people we're supposed to. It's not just me? Hell, no.

Think about it: Romeo and Juliet bucked the system, and look where it got them. Superman has the hots for Lois Lane, when the better match of course, would be with Wonder Woman. Dawson and Joey - need I say more?

What about you?
You tell me.

Like I said, it happens to everyone. I couldn't tell you what it was, if you asked. But when it's the heart, that's a whole different ball of wax.

Well, I had the other problem. I had the heart of the relationship, and no body to grow it in.And if you think of a relationship as a living entity, I thought ....

" I know what you thought." I wondered what happened when you offered youself to someone, and they opened you, only to discover you were not the gift they expected and they had to smile and nod and thank you all the same.

it ain't my hormones, it's you.

Just a quick post today to point out what should be obvious.

Pay attention, men.

IT IS ENTIRELY POSSIBLE FOR A WOMAN TO GET FRUSTRATED AND SHOW ANGER WITHOUT IT BEING IN ANY WAY HORMONAL.

A man, it seems, is allowed to show anger and frustration when some damn idiot won’t shut up, or fifty damn idiot drivers cut him off, box him in, tailgate and otherwise make driving hell, or he can’t figure out how to do something on his damned computer. He’s allowed to shout, cuss, slam something down and walk away. A woman who reacts to those same frustrations is immediately slapped with the PMS or “time of life” label.

Just.

Stop.

It.

Pull that crap on me in a couple of weeks and I’ll rip your fool head off. This is just as sexist, but I’m posting it because I’m annoyed and it’s funny.

Sweet Dreams People.

elusive me ? (II)

I pride myself on having a firm grip on reality, but when I get a flash of consciousness from another dimensions, I have to wonder. Perhaps -- that's just my third eye opening and seeing things I refused to acknowledge before ?

elusive me ?

'You took everything good and painted it red.'

It's true what they say about 2nd chances and people. 2nd chances don't matter and people never change.

Why am I harbouring these feelings?? I need a break, from EVERYTHING.

I need to do something. Anything. I feel my faith weakening and its scaring me. When I see blue skies, I think about the dark, looming clouds which are inevitable. When I see a rainbow, I think, it's only a trick of light. When I look at flowers, I think of how people would pick them and take them home and leave them to die in vases of water.

Help.