Stargazing, soul-searching and traveling,. Hammocks, polaroids and galaxies,. Experiences emanating magic and madness,. Losing track of time and reality,. Her new-found wings defying the laws of gravity,. While all along she had been surrendering to her mind,. The calls of her heart rings stranger chords,. New tattoos, gypsy guitars and intoxicated winds,. And her dreams pulling their own swords,. Battling the world with her poetic pen,. She was a dance of fire and ice,.

The more I discuss the more unhappy I become! In a way I just felt that more are the people around me, more are my expectations from each of them and lesser is my happiness quotient.

No matter how long you have travelled in the wrong direction,you can always turn around. Confessions of a philophobic girl.

I am out with lanterns, looking for myself.

I observe every minute detail that defines my countenance and learn to accept it, but it has never been that easy. I look into the mirror everyday, and come back as a defeated warrior. They told me that the ultimate arrow. That would pierce its way. Into my mundane heart,would be. The death of a loved one,. But as time flipped its own pages,.

8230;Poetry, Musings, Petty Thoughts and Little Pieces of Me. I got inspired by the above piece to write something. I got inspired by the writings above to write something. This is how I feel.

They told me to be scared,. And I believed they had a. Reason, because these were. The men and women who. From when I had first sneaked. A look through my eyes,. My eyes, they saw my skin and. Could hint that I am not worthy. Of the accolades of existence. And I saw the mirror tell me. The same, but you told my. My mind, it believed to be stripped. Also made it callous,.

BROTHERHOOD OF THE WORLD AWARD. If Only I Clould Do What I Want.

Always absorbed in a book,. Perched on the edge of her nose. And her black hair cascading. In soft curls all the way down. She turned, smiled and nodded,. We found ourselves in everyday. And got back to her novel. It started when she saw me. Out of the bus window.

Front row seats to Project Mayhem. Depression is good at times. No? So importance level of writing in my life is above 100. In case you missed the previous post, Vol. Double whammy right there, ladies and gentlemen! The mirror in front of wh.