We often create bridges to connect with people. Love. Pain. Wanting. Anxiety. Hate. What else do two people need to stay in touch?
We aren’t who we used to be. We’ve changed bridges from love and friendship to pain and hate. I dont know if you feel the same or is it just me thinking about crap. Yes, crap. Because, in the end I would be the one sitting there
thinking overthinking about how we were and how we have become. Why do I even care? Why do I keep thinking about shit? Why do I?
After you changed, I always tried to talk and always tried to bring back the old you, the old us. But no, you never let me. You broke your connection with me, and the worst part of it
was is back bitching. You’ve back bitched about me. Yes, I got to know. Sad, huh? See… the one’s you trust dont really like you. Cause perhaps you’ve behaved the same with them and now all you are doing is trying to act sweet. But, I was the one who really cared. But… oops, to late now… I’m glad I slipped off your hands. This time, I’m glad you oiled your hands before you could grab mine. And yes, I’m not gonna forgive you like I used to. I’m done with hearing all the nonsense. Times may have changed but you didn’t. Thank you for so much love. Thank you for the care. Thank you.
Friendships don’t turn out to be the best part of my life.
Failures pushed her. She saw no hope. It wasn’t a great day; but like most of the days she felt what nobody ever understood. ‘Building special memories?’, she thought was just a misnomer. The urge to scream ended up with nail marks on her hand. The clutter she had built ended up with blood on the floor. And the dark days ended up with wet pillows at night.
It wasn’t the end of her life. It wasn’t the good time either. But she had waited enough for the beautiful days to come back, she had waited enough for the people around her to understand how harsh it feels on hearing those words, she had waited enough for those special people to come back in her life, she had waited too long; this just had to happen.
The pressure of scheduled tests wasn’t easy to handle. And those thoughts, those words rang in her ear every single time she opened the books. Fudgeling, made it worse.
Life was challenging her. And it had been too long, she failed and was left in a worse state.
Her heart ached. Her strength was lost. She needed someone to hug her and say they’re there for her. She needed someone to stay. She needed a little love. She needed to breathe.
I’m not one of those beautiful looking people in school. I’m not a popular kid. Being popular in my school needs either intelligence or looks. This ain’t my philosophy though. But the people in my school have many perspectives and this is one of them.
We have been talking about looks recently. We have been judging people on various aspects, which made me think, do looks matter? Are people with looks on top of any person’s list? Does being beautiful change the mindset of people?
I agree looks matter. Of course they do, but to what extent? Is there just one criteria? If there are many, why do people end up judging the rest just on the basis of one?
Boys of my class always look for curves. But do they realise everyone can not get everything. Do curves make a girl beautiful? Does it emphasise her character? Her personality? Is it curves that guys fall for? Falling for curves is just lust. Isn’t it? And there is a difference between Lust and love.
Liking someone for just looks is lust not love.
Before I sign off, I would really like to know, how much do looks matter?
Days went by. Time never stopped. It was getting tougher. She wasn’t prepared to face anything that came towards her. Failures had already pulled her down many times, she was afraid that this could be the next.
Every single time she gathered the pieces and tried to get up, someone/something pushed her with a larger force each time. The force is so large, so strong that the pieces become even smaller. She never gave up but the last experience was so bitter that the present has never been sweet enough.
Nothing favoured her. Neither did she herself.
It grew darker. The moon shone brighter. City lights filled the city with life. It was comparitively quiet.
She stood there in the balcony gazing the sky, waiting for a shooting star. She wanted to make a wish. A wish, uncertain to be true. It was getting tough and the pain in her throat made it tougher. But she kept on gazing; because, it was a last hope.
I have connected a lot with this poem. Just thought of sharing this.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
23rd May 2017, we were honoured by respective positions in the council body of the school. Yes, I was one of them. Many were left heart broken. Many were happy to get a respectable position (President, Vice President and the Secretary).
I was chosen to be the secretary of Science Club. Yes, I was happy (I didn’t have any hope of getting any position anyway *grins*). It is the lowest position. But I never cared about being in the lowest or in the top position. Yes, I would have been a little more happier if I would have got a better one.
But little did I know, me being a secretary would be treated like that. And I never knew that a guy who was so sweet to me last year would ever hurt me this way. I never knew he would change just being at a higher position. I never knew. One should know, that everyone can not be a hero straight away, and especially people like me. I am not one of the popular kids in school. I am not an outspoken person. And making a position in school was very difficult for me. I am not like you. You should know that. At least I am a part of the council body… plus, a position is a position. You can not judge it. And let me tell you, you are no boss here, it’s a school. And everyones treated the same way. You don’t have any right to force me to do anything.
What if, I’m better at something else you do not know? A position can not define me.
And this, defines you. Now I know you aren’t who I thought you were. Now I know your truest colours. And I promise you, you will surely regret saying whatever you did someday.
Someday you will.