Your lust for words eventually becomes your biggest strength because that is how you express yourself, and soon, you find yourself weaving a comfortable sweater out of your own words which carry the fragrance of how you perceive this world to be. Hereafter, once you become a writer, your viewpoint of this beautiful ball of life never stays stagnant. It persists to change, always.
I don't know how this world appear to you but to me, it's like the biggest canvas possible. There is so much space to build, expand and recreate things. I sometimes dream that one day I'll run away from this ruckus of life with a brush in my hand, dipped in paint, and never stop painting.
And Every night, I think of writing about you. The poetry I saw in your eyes, The one I'm unable to write. But every night, when I can't sleep, I replay you and think, What a walking mystery you are, With no one capable enough to solve.
You ever hear that song, look at that photograph or watch that movie that takes you down the memory lane? Yes, this is about that. There are many songs and many movies but not all of them lead to a lane but the ones that do, lead to their own specific lane. I'll tell you how. It's 2 am at night and suddenly you come across that song from the '00s, a song that you used to play on repeat till you fell asleep every night. You play that song and suddenly you feel the nostalgia rushing and yours eyes close automatically and you're there. You're 8 again going on a roadtrip with your whole family.
We can't stop what's meant to be. What we can do is stop blaming our own selves for them.
I don't know why it's so hard for people to believe that love doesn't need time to make home or even to leave the home it made in someone's soul. How would the heart know what...
Those eyes were the best sight ever,Every glare and every glanceLooking into them always felt like falling into an abyssSoothing so much, I could get lost for an eternity in themSlippery so...