The love letter series: the third one

Hey you

I love you. It’s fucking painful. It’s suicide. It’s dumber than dumb. It’s mindblowingly pathetic. It’s like someone holding your heart in their hands and poking it with pins. That’s how it feels when you ignore me, which is all the time. I live in constant pain. It’s like someone holding your hand in freezing water. That dull but unbearable pain that takes over. That’s how my insides feel. I can’t get over you. Maybe I am a sadist who thinks loving you makes me noble and my love true. Oh how I hate you for making me love you. I hate you. I fucking hate you. I hate you. Oh I love you. Be mine, won’t you?

Pitifully yours

Forever so



The love letter series: the second one

My love

You are the first thought as I wake up. If I could, I would turn around, feel your nose next to mine, and kiss you.  I walk around all day thinking of you. The way you surprise me with your playfulness when I am tearing up, the way you say I Love You just when I want to hear it, the way your fingers feel… I smile. The greats may have said it but I feel it. You are my sun, moon and the stars. You are my everything. I sleep thinking of you. I dream of you. It’s all you. It’s all you.




The Love Letter series: The first one

Dear You

I had been living in a dream world for a few days. Ever since you said that you wanted to go away with me. Even for a day. I had been thinking of how you would look at me siting next to you as we were on the road listening to that Coldplay song, and realise how you couldn’t wait to start a life with me. How as we sat on the beach at night under the stars, you would hold my hand and say this was it, and I was the one. How you would wake up next to me, drink tea sitting on the porch and tell me I was the most beautiful girl you ever saw, and that it made you happy to just see my face. Then you would ask me to run away with you. And you would tell me how you would never want to leave. How you wanted the whole world to know that I was your baby.
But your life is keeping you away. Maybe later you say, when the clouds descend and the rain reminds us that crying is not such a bad thing. I still have the dreams. Sweet dreams.

Love, an essay

I do my best thinking on the train, listening to my iPod and just day dreaming. I think a lot about love and how it makes us feel, behave, live. You can’t control who you love. It just takes over one day and it’s changed your life. You love people who don’t love you, and ignore the ones who do love you. Love makes you happy, but it also makes you really sad. At times, It makes you a wonderful person to know — charming, smiling and spreading that cheer everywhere you go. At times, it makes you a carrier of gloom and despondency, telling everyone you meet to stay away. Love is illogical. It makes you illogical, and selfish, and immune to what we call “good sense”. But it also makes you more hopeful — you suddenly believe in magic and miracles. It makes you see the good in people, and sometimes makes you really selfless, and you live for others. It makes you childlike again, and makes you laugh with abandon. You sleep with a smile on your face and wake up the same way. It makes you the best version of yourself. It also makes you the worst. You forget that a world outside exists when you’re in love. You make it about yourself and what you need. You justify everything, and say, i can’t help it. It’s love. It’s made me this way. But sometimes, it’s worth it. Love makes it all worthwhile. It makes you feel alive and feel things. It makes you creative. It makes you look at this world we live in with rose coloured glasses, which I feel is a good trait. It makes you float and fly. I wish  at times, i didn’t believe in love, but then where would I be and What would I do? And most importantly, what would I write? I need love.

Crushin on Chris Brown

Yes, he once beat Rihanna up. Yes, in this song, he calls women “hos” and says he ain’t dating a “broke nigga bitch”
But I so LOVE this song. Sue me. Great melody. check. great dancing. check. cool factor. check check check. can you blame me for having a huge crush on a talented hot man!
watch it, enjoy it, and stop thinking about the rest. Music is music. Chris Brown sings Loyal, and you are gonne dance for sure!

Song of the day: In your House

Jagged Little Pill is one of the best albums ever produced. Alanis not only woos with her singing, but her song writing.
Take this song for instance. She sings about going to a lover’s house and going through his things. we have all been there. It’s lovely.

I burned your incense
I ran a bath
I noticed a letter that sat on your desk
It said “Hello love, I love you so love, meet me at midnight”
And no, it wasn’t my writing
I’d better go soon
It wasn’t my writing

A Monday poem


I know it’s been really long since a post, but have been living in a dreamworld. But today, a poem i read snapped me back and made me write a poem — which i never do. But it was so lovely, it made me write. It’s called “When You Have Forgotten Sunday: The Love Story” by Gwendolyn Brooks, and this is how it goes

“When You Have Forgotten Sunday: The Love Story
— And when you have forgotten the bright bedclothes on a Wednesday and a Saturday,
And most especially when you have forgotten Sunday —
When you have forgotten Sunday halves in bed,
Or me sitting on the front-room radiator in the limping afternoon
Looking off down the long street
To nowhere,
Hugged by my plain old wrapper of no-expectation
And nothing-I-have-to-do and I’m-happy-why?
And if-Monday-never-had-to-come—
When you have forgotten that, I say,
And how you swore, if somebody beeped the bell,
And how my heart played hopscotch if the telephone rang;
And how we finally went in to Sunday dinner,
That is to say, went across the front room floor to the ink-spotted table in the southwest corner
To Sunday dinner, which was always chicken and noodles
Or chicken and rice
And salad and rye bread and tea
And chocolate chip cookies —
I say, when you have forgotten that,
When you have forgotten my little presentiment
That the war would be over before they got to you;
And how we finally undressed and whipped out the light and flowed into bed,
And lay loose-limbed for a moment in the week-end
Bright bedclothes,
Then gently folded into each other—
When you have, I say, forgotten all that,
Then you may tell,
Then I may believe
You have forgotten me well.”

Isn’t it absolutely lovely. I am following her thought process and i wrote one called “Forgetting” Let me know if you liked? 🙂


Remember you asked me when I first knew
When I first knew you were my world?
It was a warm summer’s night. And as you hugged me, we had lingered.
That’s when I knew. I remember that’s when I knew
Remember when I asked when you first felt like kissing me?
You said it was that day when I slowly kissed your cheek goodbye
you had wanted to pull me back
and fit me in a corner, and kiss me endlessly
You will always remember that, you said
What about the time I wanted to first touch you, and not in a sweet way?
I remember that
I stood next to you leaning over an old car. Our shoulders barely touched.
I stood next to you so I didn’t have to look at you
You had a question in your eyes, and I didn’t know the answer
I had wanted to touch you then, and not in a sweet way
Remember when we fell in love?
It just happened right?
Was there a time when we weren’t in love? I said
Remember when we made love?
I am still trying to forget

All I do is remember.