Theater Of My Thoughts Its Where My Thoughts Play
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The stars go on wasting their vast treasure. Of flames, while I keep on burning out. In the flickering light of those lamps. Waiting in vain, for your return to. My arms, Oh how I miss the feel. Of your skin against mine in the. Dark cold nights while we kept. On counting the minutes we. Tried to stay silent, but in. My eyes burn as I wake up in the. Early morning hour, my head still.
Or the night for which one waits a lifetime. Enthusing from leaf to leaf ultimately to the interior. Standing on the dark terrace I think of our empty lives. Never wrote to you about those airless nights, those.
The highs and lows of an adulting intern. In your eyes will rage a thousand fires,. You have loved and will love a lot more,. But these fires can burn down every little thing you worked for. I know you feel so helpless that raging tides of tears well up. You contain oceans within that tiny body of yours. Whisky On The Rocks Please.
Let them have the stage so long as I need not be in the audience. What did these words on a page mean to the first hand? What did my mother think of Abhigyanamshakuntalam when she read it as a girl? Was she bent over a desk, like me right now, o.
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The site had the following in the homepage, "Its Where My Thoughts Play." I noticed that the web site stated " For love that you want to burn down." They also stated " Crimson Reds And Pitch Blacks. In your eyes will rage a thousand fires,. But dont you burn down everything to ashes. You have loved and will love a lot more,. But these fires can burn down every little thing you worked for. I know you feel so helpless that raging tides of tears well up. You contain oceans within that tiny body of yours. A leaf under frozen waters."ANALYZE MORE BUSINESSES
Rantings of a Half Orphaned Kid. Never have I written a blog, these are just rantings. What you are about to read below are the viewpoint of the life of a half orphaned kid, who used to be fun, social with people, but then some people happened, trust issues came up, he could not trust anybody with his thoughts and feelings, knowing that people would judge them, but then he grew away from the fear of people judging him, and then he started this blog.
People come and tell me that oh babe any teenager can write such poems and stories and I always reply in silence. I want to tell them no I want to shout that what Writing means to me. it is not a hobby. This is what I live for. Pouring out my feelings on paper is my remedy. I write about that blind girl who wants to study but she cannot. But again as they say.
On Parting Words and Syllables not Uttered. That led me to you. Dutch Courage, a planned fate. And the wrong side of passion. What I perceived as love. But you fathomed into annihilation. The wordsmith of my journey. For I mistook the chapter. To be the entire story. For I never got my happy ending.
Twenty three, sucking dry bottles after bottles of beer and devouring relationships, I sat alone in a bar enjoying solace. Bangalore is a city of young people with open minds I assume, contrary to the country we live in. Yet being a young woman, I was always greeted with glaring eyes of older men, sitting where I am. Questioning their morals, I forget my own sins, destroying relations after relations for the sake of my career and success.
But somewhere, slowly things are falling into place. Its just that it takes time and patience is what needed.