It's around 8pm, usually, that I feel like running away. Running away from people, things, places and feelings. Something about that particular time zone that makes me like that, I guess. But it's not each day.
Yesterday I didn't.
Today I did.
Maybe I should start jogging for a bit.
'Why don't you talk to your dad?'
I have been asked that a lot. In more occasions than one; in more tones than one. Sometimes it's hard to keep up the pretence of being calm. Sadly, it isn't the not talking to him that kills but the fact that the reason for the silence is unknown. I'm sure it wasn't an overnight thing, only because these things can't happen overnight. Someday I shall find out. I'm not sure if i want to though.
Someday I shall hug him too. Also, my brother. Maybe.
I am not a really a 'sleeper'. Hence, for the longest time, my incentive to sleep was that I might get to dream a little dream. Even though there are one million and one 'scientific' interpretations of dreams and their patterns and theirs occurrences, I have always been a believer of the fact that you create when you dream. A different world, filled with familiar people and places. It's like a power, not every one is capable of. Creation is an underrated virtue However, I found myself losing this power, of late. I had been falling into the sack sleeping dreamlessly for nights together. Until three nights back, when I had a dream. Finally.
It was completely unrelated and contained many loose ends. But the fact that I had dreamt of pretty people and pretty things and pretty places and pretty situations in techno colour, sepia and black and white made it worthwhile. It's recreational, This creating.
I like people who dare to dream. If only there were more of them now. sigh.
He-man is back in town. :) :) :) :) :) :) :)
The only boy on the face of the planet who has never, not even temporarily, gone off my 'People I love' list. From being two strangers who ended up talking through the middle of the night till wee hours of the early morning the first time they spoke to being at a place where we are today, it's all been so unbelievably smooth.
Here's to our secrets, life plans, meetings, hideouts, respective better halves, laughter, tears, break up, phone calls, coffee and the years that have witnessed it all and so much more. He makes me happy. All the time. I love you. Always have, always will :')
Here's the thing about irritating things; the more you fight them the more they get onto you. Yes. It has happened. After months of judging people who were sick courtesy the 'Beiber Fever', it has happened. I cannot get that girl of a man's voice out of my head, crooning 'BABBY BABBY BABBY OHHHH...'
Guilty as charged, I am truly ashamed!
Also, Eminem is back :D And my heart beats for him just as much as it did back int he 6th grade. He's a lyrical genius, has always been. I have received a lot of flack for this particular crush, yes; but he's the first man who ever dared me to get a little perception. I remember how, back in the day, my friend and I felt like 'little bad girls' when we would learn up his songs like the back of our hands. How we refused to call him 'Eminem' and let our loyalties be with 'Marshall Mathers'. All this, while we made wedding cards of our marriage in Missouri, designed with hearts that had an arrow sticking through it. Ah. Good times.
He is a poet. I'm standing by that. None can do.
This post is an uninspired piece of garbage, yes.
Unrelated musings put together. But that's how much my mind has gone over in the past 12minutes of writing this.
Also, here's the deal about having a personal space in the cyberspace, you can get away with throwing garbage...