of extended takes and discarded tissue papers.

being with you is
one heck of a rollercoaster.

a ride of joy,
and happiness,
But also of pain,
and sadness..

but given the risk,
it's a ride i'm willing to take,
over and over.

of lingering past and today's condolescence.

tell me,

how can i compete,
with a ghost that's never there,
except in your heart?

you're right..
i can't..

of giving up and letting go.

i'm tired.

tired of you.

tired of pretending to be happy,
and mostly,

tired of being alone.

of certain apologies.

sorry if i neglect this blog for a certain time...
and now,
let the stories commence..

of reluctances and ghosts of the past.

"..it feels like home when i'm with you.."

of contribution and forgotten retributions.

as i followed time,
around this unknown place,
i can see figures from my past,
darts around me,
even dancing,
memories of their meeting,
and their parting,
grows even brighter by the second.

and a thought come by to me,
what if i finally stopped,
letting time strolling at its pace,
and i can linger
with all that i hold dear?
with all of this perfect moment in time?

the answer,
comes from the realization,
that all around me,
did not need me to keep on moving,
and i was soon left alone.

an empty casing waiting for a decision to move again.

to live.

again.

of half hearted grins and shady approachs.

i really want to write something here,
really i do,

but all i can think now is ,
well, to tell the truth,
i have no idea..

of startling revelations and borrowed time.

a miracle is just an excuse,

that we create in our mind,
when we have lost hope,

for something that we held dear.

of static musings and dead sceneries.

you're living under a false pretense
that your life is not a complete fiasco..

it is.

and frankly,
i find it not that big of a deal.