Love is…
- … my grandmother and grandfather.
- … HUGS. The Warm, Soft, Fluffy, Long Kind.
- … the feeling you get when you see a close friend you haven’t seen in a while
- … the shriek that is followed by that feeling when you meet with them
- … running towards each other like one of those corny Hindi movies from the 70s or 80s, following shriek.
- … being lifted up by a darling friend, and twirled 360 degrees on the beach at 2 in the morning
- … walking miles in the company of great friends, the aching muscles and tiredness the next day is worth every minute of it
- … looking into his eyes, and letting it speak for you.
- … hugging someone that special way, knowing that a hug will comfort them to no ends.
- … being held, because sometimes all we need is that, especially to save ourselves.
- … saving a little birdy from being slaughtered by cats and letting it fly after rubbing its head awhile
- … Zoffy.
- … Phoenix.
- … cart wheeling at Independence Square.
- … having a “Sandwich Factory” dinner at Independence Square
- … doing a TING (my girls would know *wink)
- … seeing one of your batch mates married off. To a really nice man.
- … the beach
- … the sea
- … lovely hairbands
- … Boleros
- … jeans. the low boot and skinny kind.
- … dancing the night away. With one heck of a great friend.
- … street racing down Galle Road at 2a.m.
- … my birthday week. surprises and all. OMG You GUYS!
- … my special leaf. Lots of love in that.
- … when you find that thing you’ve lost
- … smelling my hair
- … being high on life
- … being high on coffee, sugar and RedBull
- … photography.
- … lying in each others arms.
- … smiling with your eyes
- … independence
- … walking around town, just because you can.
- … doggies
- … also kitties.
- … coffee.
- … pigging out on Black Forest Cake with your mates, and eating every last bit of it.
- … the insane Lunch Room times.
- … the Taj car park session at the onstage 2nd prellies ‘08 with RealSkullZero, A, M and Nils.
- … Dancing for no apparent reason, to the dorkiest song on earth.
- … water fights.
- … pillow fights.
- … holding his pinky finger, the way a new born baby would for the first time.
- … babies.
- … security.
- … driving with an awesome friend who is also a super cool driver.
- … being rescued by said friend in the middle of the night after losing my head and going the wrong way.
- … PURPLE.
- … Jensen Ackles.
- … second chances.
- … being there for them no matter what. NO MATTER WHAT!
- … that day in June.
- … kisses on the forehead.
- … holding your hand.
- … not letting any object break that invisible bond as you walk side by side
- … talking on the phone for hours, not realising the time
- … that look in your eyes.
- … spending ages making cards and gifts.
- … window shopping with the girls. never buying anything.
- … great fan fiction. Sarah Rees Brennan FTW.
- … is Dreaming. Like James Dean said. Dream as if you’ll live forever; Live as if you’ll die today.
- … Friendship.
- … Happiness.
- … Knowing that Mother loves me.
- … The Hikka Pact.
I was tagged by dearest Dili.
I hereby tag – The Unsilent, The End, Dark Angel, The Womanist, St. Fallen, Chavie and Black.
Afternote : I know this is extremely long. Thousand apologies.
The Hikka Pact
Whilst strolling down Hikkaduwa Beach, Dark Angel and I realised a lot of things. Great place for epiphanies I tell you. So, she came up with a pact.
Pacts come and go. But there are those that stick, and yes this is one of them. It’s not defined by time or boundaries but just the sheer need to want it. And what we are striving for is simple; Happiness.
And we intend on doing so by indulging in a couple of principles.
Live for the moment.
No turning back, no regrets.
Taking a risk and fighting for what you believe in.
Know that consequences will be persist, but to take risks knowing that you will come out okay.
Feeling a sense of achievement, that you have actually done something for your self worth.
Knowing you can.
Nothing will get in our way.
Most importantly, Not giving up.
So, yeah the pact is on
A second to ponder
This was written by a newly aquainted but dear friend of mine. She has captured all the feelings I have been going through and I just wanted to say thank you, for being there and thank you for the lovely post. You truly are a beautiful person.
You can find her post at her blog called “MeThinks“. Her post - “To all the boys I have loved before”.
Coffee. I love you.
I lie awake, minutes after midnight, pondering on thoughts that are really not meant to be thought about at this time of the night. The reason being that my body has not only begun its process of shutting itself down by the second, but also because that the lack of sleep would cause me to think erratically bringing me more hurt than good. But this is a common thing in my life.
As a dedicated insomniac, this pattern of sleep doesn’t bring me any comfort or peace of mind, on the contrary. I lie awake till the next day and the one after that, or if I’m really lucky, I would sleep out of exhaustion or self annihilation. The sleeping out of exhaustion normally happens after a couple of days of thorough insomniaty. I’m pretty sure I made that word up. “Insomniaty”. I define it to be the state of insomnia. Self-annihilation is something I don’t want to feel, ever! It’s when I go “Kaboom”.
Anyways, as I ponder on these thoughts of insomnia, I always see a direct connection to the days and nights, where I have waited for merciful sleep and not gotten any. No, not “getting any” in that way, I meant in the form of getting any sleep. I would directly correlate this to my coffee addiction. Normally coffee would keep me chirpy and up. But as of late, I haven’t drunk much coffee, which really sucks in my life, because coffee really makes me happy, along with making me smell like coffee beans. It’s a good smell, trust me. I like smelling of coffee, because not only is this world infested with coffee addicts, but also it reminds me of the happiness my coffee brings. When my coffee isn’t there, my happiness dies away. This is sad, still, because I haven’t gotten any of that too. I’m not getting any in any way. I’m unlucky like that. Anyways, my life has been kinda shitty in the last month or so. This correlates to the time I went off my coffee bean addiction.
So, let’s count backwards. I haven’t been happy. Nor have I had any coffee. But also I haven’t had any good night sleep (come coffee or not) nor have I been chirpy. But, if I had coffee I would have been chirpy, and I would have eventually gotten some sleep out of exhaustion, and I would have still been happy, in some form. But since I haven’t, I am not so happy.
This defines doom really. See, being a Happy Insomniac is better than being a Sad Insomniac. So, I concur, even if you are a coffee addict who suffers from Insomnia, Coffee is your friend, let it love you. Shunning it out of your life because Caffeine is a bad man doesn’t do you any good. Sure, your mother warned you about guys like Mr. Caffeine Man. But really, when did your mother have a say in your love life anyway? So, love all around, when the Caffeine Man is in town.
So, Drink Coffee! It will get your mind focused, your work done, expand your nights into many a hour, keep you running like you’ve got jet fuelled pumped into you, but most importantly, you’ll be chirpier than a chipper bird on crack.
Enjoy your coffee people. It’s here to stay. And, it tastes divine. Amen.
Confessions
Days pass by me, as I wonder my purpose in life, the cause for deeds done and the reasons why I have been alive. Almost scrupulous, near promiscuous, this is wrong I tell myself. I know it is, but where do I stop myself from being thus? When will the past remind me where I must draw the line? Sadly and slowly, I succumb to the emptiness that my heart has come to be. I alone will struggle through the depths of forgiveness, in myself I must find, the deeds of wrong and those of right that have passed with minutes passing. Even with forgiveness unto myself, my mind will not allow me desired sleep tonight.
I trudge along a path of no absolution, a desire that runs deep within. Carnal pleasures resound, these walls mimic its stories, but with depression it has bound me slave to cynicism and narcissism both. Shameful and with due penance by the Lord, I live in fear of judgment at the gates. I loathe the sinner rooted within me with purpose, dragging me to the evils that I possess. Letting the good die, writhing in pain and never in light. Darkness arrives, with determination and deceit. Power fills the senses, leaving the mind marred and broken in tears. The liar lies laden with gold, reaping triumphant jubilation, but alas the truth is buried six feet below. As the last light dies from within, smirks of truths untold lie on irritated lips. Spake it aloud cried my mind, or forever lie unjust, the world spins not on lies but painful lust.



