Maybe I am not meant to wind up with anyone. Betrothed only to the fictional characters from the books that have perpetually filled the void in me. Forever longing for the presence of another being who will never ever be. Forced to be complacent with only the pleasures of good reads.
Money, the root cause of your problems.
Money, the solution to your problems.
Money, the root cause of your illnesses.
Money, the medicine that treats your illnesses.
Money, the death of your hopes and dreams.
Money, the death of humanity and empathy.
Money, the death of you.
If there’s one thing people need to stop doing, it’s half-assing everything. From eating, shitting, working, studying to building bridges, burning bridges, professing love, making love and whatnot. Do them wholeheartedly. Don’t be that jackass who half-asses every goddamn thing.
I was in the bus en route to work when I passed by a school. I saw these kids in their sports attires prolly having their PE lesson. It reminded me of my schooling days, how I’d spent most of my PE lessons with my friends looking at the cars filling the main road, pondering upon how it would be like to be on the other side of the fence, working through the traffic to get to work. How it must be like to be adults. To be in control of your life. To be making your own decisions. To give reassurances to your ‘rents, sibs. Every now and then I’d wish to be on the school side of the fence, to not know, to not have to decide everything on my own, to be reassured by my ‘rents. To be a kid again.
Your alarm’s blaring
you get dressed
your breakfast is regurgitated
your tummy flutters and
tears collect in your eyes.
Your deceased heart
is still hoping for it’s
ultimate true calling
to be financially answered.
I used to only have great things to say about you. Beautiful words such as incandescent, becoming, and charming crossed my mind at the thought of you. Now I can only think of rather unfavorable terms like uncertain, inconsistent, and clueless. It saddens me to finally see the kind of person you’ve always been and not the person who was beautifully painted in my heart.
You come and go
as you please
that you are.
What is it
Who is it