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"No, there is no such thing as love. Just attachment. And sometimes lust"

Embrace

Let's rediscover the world we lost,
of fairies, magic portions and sparkling lights,
where you were by my side
with a bottle of wine and a blanket of sweet oblivion.

The times of hopeless reveries
of stars gracing the days
and sunshine lighting up the night sky.

Where you slay the demons,
the ones hiding beneath my bed
and the ones troubling my thoughts.

Just for a fraction,
let's rediscover the world we lost,
of fairies, magic portions and sparkling lights,
As you and I let loose in an embrace
of the final goodbye.

Excerpt from my diary.

...the time of obvious understanding that your people were still your world.

It sucks to be stuck in the vicious cycle of nothing and everything. Where the fine line between the right and the wrong gets stepped upon so much, that one fine day, it conveniently disappears. And you don't even notice. Days filled with a constant chase to meet the ends meet. All in vain, of course. Nights of dreamless sleep and dreams on sleepless nights.

No, it's not as bad as I make it sound. It sure can be better. But isn't that the story of our lives?

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#55wordstory

If you are on twitter and you don't know what #55wordstoy is, you sir are a waste! =P Heh. But seriously, I love this project.
Here are the two stories I have contributed so far.

Theme 4 - Glass

Funny, how the oblivion leads you to believe in the illusion of perfection. One moment you are in the ecstasy of surreal love and then, life happens. One cut is all it takes. To forget. To hurt. To let loose. Pain induces pleasure. It’s time to let the second wine glass shatter on the floor.



Theme 20 - Bottle

There it was, right in front of her very eyes. She stared. A lone tear glided over her flushed cheek. “Danger” it read on the label. As if she hadn’t played with some before. But this time, she really had had enough. Yes, for that moment, her life was miniscule compared to that tiny bottle.

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Yes, I know. I will try and write more.

Also, little miss emo?

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All in a day's work

The usual hustle-bustle consumes the office while I dedicatedly stare at the screen. The words will come. Only it seems a tad harder today. (And I claim to be a writer)

Blossoming laughter hits my face, urging me to pluck my eyes off the screen. Must. Not. Get. Distracted.

Someone is trying to strum a tune. No, don't rape it please. It is one of my favorites, y'know.

The chatter reaches a crescendo. And then the girl dressed in formals barks a loud Shuush. What follows is a lull. And then a flood of hysterical laughter.

Yes. Advertising agencies are no less than mental asylums.

Your deranged Valentine

Tonight,
Let your eyes bleed for me
Let the memories feed on your insides
One stab at a time

Tonight,
Count your labored breaths,
slathered with the stains of reality
as the claws of solitude
snatch away the comforting disguise
of your blatant oblivion

Tonight,
My relentless love,
Let out your soul
Crave me, hate me,
and ever so slowly - kill me.

Aftermath

She blinked open her eyes. The brilliant wash of sunlight hit her face. Only this time around, it mocked the darkness that was booming inside her.

She shut her eyes again and let out a deep sigh. Was that the piercing sound of uncertainty that enveloped her? Or the blatant silence of those false words that now made her bleed from the inside?

She bit her lip and let go a sniffle. Was it really so unholy to give in to temptation?


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Void

Just when you turned away,
And the stabbing pain caught my breath,
I realized it was never meant to be.