The question is - to be or not to be ?
the soulution - there's no such thing as that 'stupid' question. To do things is to just do them and care less about the concequence. Who knows what u might come across.
The question is- Do i ? I Do !
The solution is - there's no such question in choosing between the lines. Just shut ur eyes and say the first thing that comes to ur mind after hearing urself say - I do !
gradually, life does teach you to get out of the mess, no matter how terrible it gets.
Man may have discovered fire, but women discovered how to play with it. It's not much of an issue to deal with them then . Mistakes are what make our fate...without them, who'd I be ? or you either .What would shape our lives then, won't it be boring enough like some used fag. Maybe if we had never veered off course we wouldn't be who we are. After all, things change, so do cities, people come into your life and they go. But it's comforting to know that the ones you love are always in your heart.
So Back to where I wanted to start , the STRESS BUSTER THINGI (forgive the typo please, i can't concenterate on too many things)
Desserts are best stress busters - BULLSHIT ! seriously it's not .No matter how hard you going to 'TRY' to get over the 'DIRTY' feeling, it wont go. you have to let it be and have to 'SAY' or rather 'SCREAM' - 'I'm GOING TO LET IT GO RIGHT NOW'
Talking helps - Please spare me the horror but talking doesnt help if u talk to sensible people. U've to talk to the most annoying person and still be calm. The magic happens then, the feeling goes away.
Maybe you could do something - diet ? workout? creative things? NAH! won't help . Nothing will if you dont let it be . As Abhishek Tiwari says it for a woman
"That unforgiving feeling of sudden spinelessness.
You feel heavy, and want to give it all up and sink into the earth.
When the eyes burn like acid, and tears make it all the more worse.
The shrill ring in your ears, breaching silence; that just doesn’t fade away.
The weariness that anchors you like lead at the ocean bed.
The grey webs endlessly fall from the roof above and envelope you silently, no matter how much you run around. They begin to bog you down in an unknown weight. Everything uttered by you gets muffled up in the spaces between. Your throat burning screams are, but a silent hum on the outside.
Your urge to run a hundred miles is crisply shattered by the fact that your body gives up after a few. You reach the dreaded limits of your heart. You run till you taste the mud. It is undiluted agony all over. Physical burnouts fail to drop a pin, restlessness is pumped in your head; like ever.
The state of the dead with null ECG lines becomes your most revered aspiration.
You never really sleep, and you never really are awake.
The colossal dawning that your fondest memories were mere illusions. By your Mind, for your Mind. You have no past to reach out for a breath. The future ahead: plain monotonous.
Sleep fails to take you away from You. You are face to face with a rotting you. In a box.
External stimulus fails to penetrate one layer of your skin. All attempts to the world outside are gracefully smothered. Staring your sullen face. Death is no respite. Death is a higher ambition.
Every thought inside you echoes with a sour metallic tinge to it. Like a mild electric shock. A certain curdled smell inducing vomit. All the time.
The insane impulse to bleed it away. The unanswered beg for a momentary lapse of reason.
There is only one dream worth having. To live while you are alive, and die only when you are dead.
~Roy.
The paradox that proves them to be nothing but illusions. When you don’t have them to cling upon. Your Memories.
When you, witness the soul shaped hole inside of you. The melancholy of loss.
That absolute hollowness in your veins, when you realize that she never was."
Stop craving for things and stop carving them on mind walls, it will never do any good. It's better to let the brook find it's way . Some people are settling, some shall settle and some aren't ready to settle for anything less than butterflies.
Every scratch, every twig entangled into the spokes, every missing bolt from the bicycle has its own little ‘insignificant’ story. Innocently staring all those who oversee it for Bigger things in life.
Something in us, something pathetically middle class scares us from scars. We like our things Clean, and New. And Shiny.
I want you any way I can get you. Not because you’re beautiful or clever or kind or adorable, although devil knows you’re all those things. I want you because there’s no one else like you, and I don’t ever want to start a day without seeing you - you're the soulmate to self, nobody else . Not even the shadow of yourself.
It would be a SIN !
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