for someone who mattered

This poem is an apology to someone who I didn’t deserve.

I chose the friends who taunted me
over your loyal company
and I regret it just a little bit now
but back then I just didn’t know how
how to fight the feelings of wanting to fit in
how to be myself and not feel so stretched thin
how to sing proudly and not fear my voice’s sound
how to look within myself and once again be found.

We used to go on adventures and fight battles in our make-believe wars
the playground was our castle and the fields, the great outdoors
we believed we were untouchable, better than the rest
we cast spells against our enemies who got too close to our nest
we would close our eyes, as our imaginations intensified
and every day was different and delightful with you by my side
those days I will cherish, a memoir of better years
days that were filled in fascination, in courage, and in cheers.

So I’m sorry I was fragile, I was stupid, I was meek
I swore we would be friends forever, but I was gone within a week
I didn’t deserve you
the me who was so easily swayed from one side to the next
but I just can’t help but hope we’ll meet again in some pretext.

I hope you are doing well
I hope you have found your way
I hope there are people who are there for you
who love and care for you
who brighten up your day

and I hope they aren’t as foolish as the me from those years past
I hope those friendships flourish
I hope those friendships last.

71 – I’m back?

Not blogging has been really rough on me. I’ve been having a lot of interesting dreams as well as terrifying nightmares and it’s really taking a number on me. I think it helps to write about them. Try to decipher them, but not hold them as important or meaningful – Freud made the mistake of putting too much emphasis on dream interpretation…While they may contain messages,  I think in the unconscious world, imagination has free reign. And imagination is not fact, not truth, not meaning, it just is.

I’ve been pretty isolated from friends and just people in general but happily so – it’s nice to be home and not sick and cold. I do need to focus on being productive though. And not procrastinating. Sloth often has the best of me.

I want to write more. My passion has whittled down to a tiny flame and I can’t wait to help that flame grow into a hearty fireplace blaze. It will take a lot of time. A lot of learning. A lot of discovering just who I am as a writer. It’ll be challenging and fun. I just hope that I’ll let myself travel the road instead of standing still at the starting line. Motivation. Is. Key.

I’ve been reading lots and have finally dragged myself to the library again (well technically my mom drove me, but that’s beside the point). I never got a library card in Toronto, so it’s nice to just dive into that kind of atmosphere again. The first few steps into the place felt like walking into a sea of knowledge. I love it. I crave it. It’s euphoric.

Been watching a lot of Law and Order: SVU, catching up before the next season starts later this year (or next year). I love the show. It gives me a slice of life. Transports me into a world I will probably never venture in. Some episodes terrify me. Others leave me emotionally moved. It’s a good show.

The earth is beautiful. Gargantuan. Expanding for miles on miles in its complexity, mystery, and invocation. I could explore it forever and still never tire.

But internally, inside everyone of us is an equally beautiful world. With its own knots and tangles waiting to unfold, to be expressed. And I love it. Mind OR matter. There is much to discover here as well. And many of us choose not to go there. But I think it’s important. To understand ourselves before moving on to understand everything around us. Just a thought.

On a more relevant note, this blog needs a makeover. Desperately. I’ll give it one soon.

I have a lot to catch up on. Hopefully I’ll get back to reading blogs as well as writing them. 🙂


My heart has shattered

Fiery pieces scattered

Passion crashing to the floor


I’ve lost myself

Crashed the shelf

I can’t take much more


Vacancy in my soul

Time and toll

Rundown to the grain


Rosy finger paint

Dullness and faint

Creativity down the drain


Someone, please

Give me ease

I want to feel the verses breathe


Follow me

Light the sea

Let the flames grow and weave


Let it come

Strum by strum

Oh just let it come

A little and then some


Let it come

Wash us numb

The sweet taste of imagination.

64 – off hiatus (hopefully)

It’s been a while. A long while.

I can’t say I’ve been too busy or preoccupied to write, because a true writer will always find time to put pen to paper – I mean that in the metaphorical sense since I’ve been putting so much pen to paper in the lecture halls that I can’t wait for another break.

On the bright side of things, I feel happier, more comfortable being me. I think this blog is in need of a dire makeover. That’s a motion I can’t wait to put into action when I have the time to do so.

I’ve begun to recover a part of myself that I thought I lost long ago – the literature-loving, vocabulary-consuming, story-immersing, bookworm side of me. I love it. Currently enjoying the Oryx and Crake trilogy by Margaret Atwood. Just finished the sequel The Year of the Flood. They MUST be read in order. I had tingles midway through the book when it started referencing events that occurred in Oryx and Crake. It’s been a while since I’ve read the first book – I think I’m going to reread it before starting Maddadam.BOOKS. Eeeek. I feel like I’m twelve again.

What I miss most about blogging is reading. I mean that with every centimetre of my sentimental heart. I missing feeling connected to a particular piece and in turn that particular person – I miss indulging myself in the pleasures of the written word. I can’t wait to return to that realm of entrancement. Read, read, read, and maybe write a little. (Speaking of which, Nessa, you need to read your biology textbook…Sigh).

Today is one of the chilliest days of the year. I must admit that the moments I miss home the most are those when my face feels like it will freeze off any second.

I’m happy though. To have the luxury of experiencing somewhere new. But it’s definitely high time that I get back to something old…something loved. Ahh. I feel another part of myself returning.

I apologize if my writing is a little rusty – I’ve done nothing but take notes for the past few months and note taking isn’t exactly the most creative process. I have had a considerable amount of dreams and stories floating around in my imagination though. Those have kept my mind running. I’ve also had a fair share of nightmares though – those I don’t enjoy quite as much.

I think I will start writing or posting pictures as smaller pieces without categorizing – I have always found my urge to organize restraining to some extent.

In any case, I’m elated to be back.


I feel a little guilty having not posted anything in a quite a while, but at the same time, I haven’t had the urge to write anything lately.

It’s weird. Usually the thoughts or words or lines of poetry flutter in from time and time, reminding me that this is a world that I still belong to. But lately, this world feels so distant. It’s frightening…because writing is a part of who I am and these words are what keep me from falling off balance.

This is freedom to me. This is where I am able to indulge in my imagination without no boundaries of purpose or word limit. I like this. I’m well aware that I’m typing all of this now just so I can convince myself of the fact. I’m sorry for that.

For those of you who have stood by my side as I write out all these thoughts and emotions – thank you. I wouldn’t keep coming back if it weren’t for you.

I’m sure, that somewhere in the edges of my heart, there are words that I want to release upon this blank canvas. There might be something beyond my scope that is preventing me from doing so. But the written word is magical and I will return to it time and time again. Time and time again.


Those were the times.

I miss staring into the horizon

wondering about

all the possibilities



would bring


I miss thinking


the only limitations

were the skylines of your mind


I miss the daydreaming

that existed

before the coming

of habitual tendency

of responsibility

of maturity


I miss the luxury

of freedom

of believing that anything was possible

with a forward looking smile

with kaleidoscopic eyes


Those were  the times

when happiness came naturally

and needed no protection

from our sighs

needed no provocation

and no reason

to exist


Those were the times

when happiness was happy.

If Magic Existed

If magic existed in books and orbs,

There would be no doubt to what it absorbs:

Creativity and thought, charms and cheers,

Untouched by all the little doubts and fears,

Wishes and fantasies, all love and light,

Unscarred by darkness and unscathed by blight,

Imagine how mighty the orb would be

If powered by a simple child of three.


A collector but not quite what you’d expect,

This lone seeker of the promised confect,

He traverses strange realms, capturing aim

Though dreams are not tamed, but beasts of infame.


Solving a puzzle one dream at a time,

And melding together pieces of rhyme,

Armed with a dagger of aspiring goals

and wit and cunning from a thousand woes,

He will continue to hunt and hunt and hunt

Until he has cleansed all beasts from our front.


Shattering what feeds our imagination,

As victim to his quiet sedation,

We should run, we should hide, we should fight back,

Let the hunter taste our surreal attack.

Our own little Promised Land.

I live on the edge of reality, on the pathway to a dream,

Where love is outlined in a sort of speckled gleam,

Where we don’t fight, but talk out our problems and lend each other our ears,

Where calming peace overrides all hatred, overrides all our fears.


I fantasize of such a place and put myself there,

I ignore the harshness in front of me that I simply cannot bear,

I’m a coward at best – a foolish dreamer at her worst,

And I dive into falsified miracles headfirst.


And your eyes will glisten soon enough with the same lustful, hopeful sheen,

Don’t haste yourself, don’t hurry, my dear, you’ll get what I mean,

Just sit yourself upon the throne of the castle, let yourself be free,

Imagine your very own kingdom, a place of reverie.


Come now, don’t lose your way, come to where I stand,

Forget all else, we’ve created our own little Promised Land.