Once I used to love
Poured my heart in deep love
Hoping for greatness
Now, that is all cast away
I am now beside myself
She asked him gently, “Do you love me?”
In his long silence, she found closure,
And left her love under a willow tree.
Sometimes, it is the simple questions that give us the answers that are most difficult to bear.
Let your burden go.
Words maybe strong and have a lot of meanings…. but as long as I know what’s true about me
Words don’t hurt me
If you cross the line, then I will payback in kind to your harsh words
I know what’s true, I know what’s a lie
I know who I am
No matter what you say
Words will never hurt me
You lie through your teeth just to hurt someone else
Did someone stab you with harsh words?
No need to do the same to someone
Try using kind words
Words have a lot of meaning
If you us the right ones
Then no one will have the need for harsh and painful words
It’s not here, that’s what it is.
Standing on top of the highest building overshadowing the city,
I glance beneath on the thousands of feet under
As I bit my lip,
I do not see this supposed happiness, anywhere.
Someone hammered this quote into my head:
“Airports see more sincere kisses than wedding halls.
The walls of hospitals have heard more prayers than the walls of churches.”
Now this stinging headache tells me that this planet is all it’s cracked up to be
That a bogus smile is plastered all over this planet.
And we should never let this pseudo merriment falter, or else.
Riddling whispers want to drag me back in to the concept that
True feelings and integrity is nothing but a myth, a sham, a con, a joke.
Those who believe otherwise in that missing ray of hope,
Shall be crushed and eaten by the foolish thought of it.
That fake smile is our line of defense.
Which is why I’m barely standing here in desperation
Searching for pure gaiety, maskless faces, untainted souls.
Instead all I see is conditioned bliss, beautiful facades, crooked smiles.
People everywhere held their broken hearts close,
Petrified for it to be shattered, disintegrated.
Seems strenuous to maintain a strong pulse.
That lonely girl at school, she could have been a rock star,
If not being poured of Law homework that discontinued her dream.
That geeky nerd could have enjoyed being outgoing,
If not for the constant bullying that zipped up his personality.
That old aged janitor could have spent the last of his years smiling,
If random acts of kindness like a simple “Hello” didn’t cease to exist,
But it’s too late now since he retired to the afterlife.
The ignored, belittled, discriminated could have tasted happiness,
If not for the gnawing looks from people who are “proper” and “normal”;
If the LGBTQIA aren’t treated as a bunch of diseased and confused pricks demanding for attention;
If the delicate souls with serious mental illnesses weren’t called crazy retarded twats;
If the different and gifted weren’t demeaned as weird queers and lunatics for expressing individuality.
Basically the “proper and normal” hold up their noses high while the “abnormal” hide in their shadows, in tears
Tired, no, afraid of being themselves.
What about the high nosed privileged category?
They don’t seem very content at their lives too.
Stress, expectation and work leech on them, sucking them dry.
They need to be studious for college scholarships,
They need to be diligent for their plate of potatoes,
They need to graft for their children’s shelter,
They need to endure for their parents’ sake,
They need to put on masks and choose the right emote
Hold their breathings and grit their teeth because they’re underlings
Yelling and puffing out steam at petty details because they’re superiors
A normal life is not a walk in the park it seems.
Nope, it’s not here.
I couldn’t find it.
Happiness turned into fairy tales leaving everybody sobbing in the dark.
I ache for people.
That leaves me wondering what if…
Just what if I slipped?
From this rooftop with this newfound courage to end it all?
Plenty of reasons feed this dangerous thought,
What’s life if living is all it’s cracked up to be?
Why can’t we know what happiness is without knowing what sadness is?
Why should we continue to coo ourselves with further lies?
When one step from this building edge could lead us to…
I stepped back and sighed.
I guess I’ll just keep on searching.
It’ll make you hesitate and stutter,
For you’ll want to run for cover,
Unsure of what to say,
Your confidence will disobey,
But in your heart, you know it’s true,
Beating in lust, not in blue,
The being you wish to possess, your very desire,
But you must calm, and not perspire,
Because its a beautiful thing, a wonderful sensation,
A gift from life, your heart’s temptation.
Everyone feels alone at some point in their life, whether they want to admit it or not. It feels hollow but painful. The feeling comes from the same place as happiness and sadness, but why does being alone feel this way?
It’s because the pain from being sad makes itself present, and the happiness that you had felt re-emerges from the slumber it was in. You can be the happiest person you know and feel completely alone…or you can be the saddest and be alone, either way, from happiness to sadness, everyone feels that dark, aching pain that they can’t explain. “Why does it hurt? Why does it feel like that? Why do I feel this way?” are questions you ask yourself when you feel the deep feeling in your chest.
When you are alone, you think of your mistakes, and you see them being worse than they were; and you feel worse than you did the first time. I know that. I have relived my past mistakes over and over and I regretted every moment. But I can’t change it. I have to live with the facts that I was angry, depressed, short-tempered and alone. People tried to reach out to me, but I ended up pushing them away, at least I think I did…
But this isn’t about me, it’s about all of the people who feel alone and distanced from the world.
But, those people. You, please, I know the feeling will make you cry, I know you will feel yourself crumbling slowly, but don’t hurt yourself for it. People will come to help you. That one person who asks how you are that one day, he/she probably knows your pain and wants to help you. You are never alone. Teachers, your parents, whether they seem to never care or not, your classmates, they care. I have felt like I had friends ever since I went into high school. And I could never ask for better friends. I will be your friend. I want to help people who feel the same pain as I have had to for the 17 years of being alive.
So, please. If you feel this feeling of being completely alone, and you don’t know where to go, just know that being alone may be a safe place, but it also can be the most painful one of all.
From the past 20 min I’m noticing this poor #child. Its a shame to see people coming and taking pictures of this hardly 5 year old girl who has been turned into a monkey with so much makeup. It would take a week to get off her. Her mother 2 feet away breast feeding another infant and directing this little Child of hers to raise her hand to attract attention. People taking pictures of/with her so that they could drop a little penny in that bowl. Her father surrounded this #girl with #flowers. This is really sad.#streetphotography Sometimes there comes a moment or a photograph where you feel that this world we live in is so cruel that it makes you clinch your heart with pain. One of those moments
A small kid painted himself to be a Gandhi, sitting in the middle of road trying to earn something for his family
Sometimes few things go unnoticed. This happened during my shoot today. This young gandhi aka subba is not a lawyer,speaker nor a socialist. He is a simple young boy who begs. It’s sometime sad to see someone looking like our national father begging while we just pass by in awe. They don’t much who MK Gandhi was or might never know. It’s time we tell them his importance and show the way to their freedom
Rain – A poem for INDIES IN ACTION- for a charity anthology for the tornado victims in Oklahoma.
As the days passed by, all the faith and trust that was once as strong as a rock began to loosen up into tiny fragments of loneliness, betrayal, sorrow, scattered all around me. The pain is too strong. I am fighting very hardly only hoping that ultimately, all this is just worth the cause. I know that I will not give up, but sometimes giving up just seems right, to see if things would get better if I weren’t a fighter. To see if still an iota of care and concern existed. But I am scared, scared to discover that I am a fool to have stayed around waiting for nothing. People easily move on and I was foolish to wait, to trust that after a dark and long, cold night has passed, will the bright and warm and joyful morning surely arrive. But sometimes, the sun is just too lazy to come up and the morning is still dark and cold, just to indicate that the storm has not passed. It is just to come. You never know.