Halcyon

I decided today,

I wouldn’t go the same way.

Was tired of seeing the same old,

Same old.

Wanted to be different.

Wanted to be bold.

 

Found myself on the other side

Of campus. Heels clacking against the ground.

Gentle humming; sweet, sweet sound.

Not a soul around.

 

Yellow, orange, red

Colours of Autumn falling at their own beat.

Rustling upon the street

In quiet vindication.

A story lies ahead.

Innocuous invitation.

But I stop here,

Pause in the atmosphere,

To listen to the tale

beneath my feet.

 

I smile.

Think I’ll stay for a while.

Gentle breeze

and soft crackle in the trees.

 

There are words in places you cannot see

And they come to me.

As they would come to you

If you would choose a route

Different

From the one that you are used to.

 

 

——

Take the road less travelled.

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There are times when I don’t say the words I want to say because I’m too scared of rejection, too fearful of things that I might not want to hear. It eats away at me, gnawing at the edges of my dreams. Then I’m forced to cover the whole affair with a sprinkle of petty lies.

There are times when I hurl out all the wrong words and I say what I don’t mean – but you can’t possibly know that I don’t mean what I’ve said. There’s so much regret and it won’t leave me alone. I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to.

There are times when I’m feeling all jumbled up inside as if a hurricane had blown all my structured thoughts apart. It is in these times when I spew out nonsense from my lips and throw puzzles into the air, expecting someone else to figure it out for me. No one ever does. We’re both left confused in the silence. You bite your lips trying to understand what I’m saying. I wish I knew myself.

There are times when I speak the words from my heart – honestly, fervidly, with a smile tucked to my cheeks. These are the times that I like the most and also the times that you like the most. However, these are also the times that come the least.

My mind is so selfish. She doesn’t like to share her thoughts and when she does, she likes to speak in riddles. She loves you, but she loves to hurt you too. I apologize for her absurd personality, but I don’t think I can change much about her. She is my mind after all. Stubborn and resilient towards change. Naive and rash. Always thinking the wrong things.

There are times when I want to tell you I love you and forget everything else. These times are the most common. Whether or not I say the words, however, is an entirely different matter. Why is it so difficult to tell someone you love a simple three words? More than fear, it is my pride that I cannot spar against.

It’s really hard for my silly mind to come to terms with fact.

But you know, I’m sure that behind her persistent whining and adamant facade that

she really loves you.

All of you.

Your teasing. Your ridiculously put together jokes. Those puns that don’t really work. Your many faces and many moods. Your calming, soothing words. Your kindness and your strangeness. Your laugh and your sarcasm.

All of you.

8 – Call me names.

I am

Ugly. Fat. Stupid. Mean. Stubborn. Clumsy. Crazy. Pessimistic. Delusional. Impatient. Absentminded. Obsessive. Fanatical.Whiney. Hypocritical. Annoying. Judgmental. Vain. Loud. Naive. Insane.

A geek. A nerd. A loser. A gamer. An introvert. A faker. A bitch.  A dweeb. A misfit. A loner. A pest. A child.

and proud of it.

——

Labels mean nothing to me. You’re just as ugly as the words you spew out. If you let these insults – these names – get to you, then you’ll only end up consumed by this overwhelming feeling of helplessness. I hate how weak I am, but that only helps me get stronger.

Bullies make me sick.

I am who I am and words can’t change that.

——-

This post seems really unoriginal. It is. Yet somehow, I feel like everybody should post something like this. We all fall down sometimes and need a hand. We all let words and insults fly at us and bring our spirits down. Sometimes, it’s nice to rebuild yourself through a post like this. If words can make you weaker, words can also make you stronger. Even if these words are cheesy and overrated, there’s some sentiment that accompanies it. With pride, you can feel a little stronger. It can help you get back up again. In my opinon anyway.

Hard times need some hard cheers. This is how I do it. Writing does wonders to your spirit.

I used to turn to God – use my prayers as a way out of things – until I found out that things don’t work that way. God won’t live your life for you. God won’t lend a helping hand if you can help yourself. I  still believe in Him, but it’s time I stopped depending on this little thing called faith. There are other places to place faith. In friends, in hobbies – whatever works. Always go with whatever works.

Healing is a long process – especially if you don’t know where the wound came from. Your heart. Soul. Mind. Body. Or maybe the wound came from all directions. It doesn’t matter. Let time work its magic.

 

 

—tumblr: try again. it’s not too late.

I don’t want to grow up.

Silence can burn

when emotions churn,

Lies fill the air.

Corruption sings

while truth rings,

Guilt looms everywhere.

He laughs and hisses from the top of his abode,

Not blessings, but curses are bestowed,

I’ll tear him down from this vantage someday

And reclaim the innocence lost along the way.

If he’s the dragon, I’m the knight,

And good, not evil, will win the fight.

I’m sorry, I lied – oh what a fool is I!

He won, he won! That wicked guy!

Too late now to turn back,

The clocks are ticking.

Ticking. ticking. ticking.

Clickity clickity clack.