mind

No Neat Title

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“I would love to say that you make me weak in the knees, but to be quite upfront and completely truthful, you make my body forget it has knees at all.” Tyler Knott Gregson.

How can someone who loves like that, feel so sad.

I come here and I see a pack of lies. Yet somewhere in this web string is the truth too, not caught in a neat title with a border and margin, but in the archive spread, the page breaks, the errors and corrections. It is, perhaps, in my agitation, fixation on a misplaced comma in a previous sentence that I refuse to correct. I refuse to set it right, teaching myself that EVERYTHING is subject to perspective, including right, fair, correct and straight lines.

Perhaps it is befitting that I talk of this place before I talk of others. How strange must it to be, for someone otherwise a wall of grey bricks with streamers thrown across it to be raw, breaking stone, hollow in the middle at a completely public, vulgar place, in sluttish manner. In fact, I should think it’s so strange, it’s stereotypical. And I couldn’t care less. I already see idiots assuming they know how to put these words together and form a coherent sentence. I see them now grimacing, some hating, that I should be so full of myself to call some people idiots. And I still don’t care.

Can, sometime, everything around you be so convincingly the same that you’re done and tired of it. Not tired, because you’re tired of tiredness too, aren’t you. I fail at words so hard, sometimes. I mean…. Can everything around you be so itself, happiness so happiness and trials so trials, that you just transcend beyond, shot up on a catapult, while you wish you could grope a stray memory and hold on, despite the knowledge you’d be fooling yourself in the process. Dimwittedness is a strangely lovable word.

But that wasn’t the point. The point is, funny thing is so blunt, that every time I try to touch it, my fingers just rub off dust and fall to another paragraph to edit. Sneaky little thing, the roots of the plants as they say, maybe the root is there is no root. Wait, wait. Maybe that’s it, that the problem isn’t fixed to an event, or cause, and it’s wayward, powerful nature is its scare. Shelter is so absolute and warm with him, but when something becomes too precious, you lose your mind protecting it. The problem is, I’m protecting it so viciously, anything that shifts it a millimeter swirls me off my axis. And that’s when this agonized madman writes blogposts.

Things…. are Still touching me!!!!

Now, pause.

Always, always, always taking care of yourself. And how can anyone else ever help when every word that comes out of your mouth is a riddle in another language to them. Only he could know.

There are a few ways things could go on in a matter of time. The best part is I don’t want any single one of them. What I want is such a mighty bang that it even knocks me off my feet. And I know just what to do to get that.

Yes, now would be the time that you puff, huff and go away. Do you not see my hatred, do you not feel my resentment, I’m breathing down your neck, teeth gritted, tears pasted to my eyes. I hate.

I hate. Tonight, for five minutes, I burn hate.

Comments have been disable for this post. Whatever you think you want to say, you’re wrong. You are all wrong. Except him. But how can he be right from so far.

You’re wrong.

The worst thing in the world is ALMOST, for its insatiable need to become an Always. It’s the almost that makes mud out of minds, nerves half electric, thoughts half formed, feelings have felt, because everything is frozen in almost.

Wandinoda… {} Tight. Always. Always.

I love you, always.

Catch that CHEAT!

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We all have known a cheat sometime in our life. The experience is never half okay. But what do we do when we are betrayed, mildly or horribly? Be angry… Have revenge… Take ‘control’ lessons ( 😛 )…. Try to forget?!…. Prepare ourselves for ‘next time’…. et al. But not me. HE-HE-HE-HE-HE!

Not me. The first thing I do is make sure I push the rage out of me through some writing (you are reading this, remember?). And then…. HE-HE-HE… I stand ready with a  hammer behind that person, like his shadow, and hit him , POING!, on the  head every time I see it will hurt! Makes me seem like a monster, no? Not exactly, actually….

You try and play with me and I make sure I give you hell for that. For example, just an innocent example, I dedicate this ENTIRE post to that one person who has set me upset recently, and….. that person, just you wait. *Devil Horns*

FIRSTLY. Dearest reader, since you have made it this long into this post, you deserve to know that the furious volcanic temper discussed earlier is not that frequent. 😀 I DO forgive. I DO know there’s a thing called ‘mistakes’! I am not Satan’s child, seriously! But really, neither am I an apostle. So if people tiff with me, and cause me hurt just for the fun of it, those evil monsters, they can’t expect mere tears and fright from me, I AM AS BAD. And that’s only fair!

Running Man

NOW, back to that cheat. Scoundrel. Oh don’t  worry, I don’t hate you yet!

You hurt me. You knew it when you did. “Don’t be angry plssssss.” “Are you in an okay mood?” “I really feel awkward!” My foot.

You thought you would do it over the net, you didn’t have to see my face. You chose the last day of school. Nice touch, I must admit. But sweetheart, it’s just 48 days till I see you again. What will you do then, squeaky meeky rat-sy!!!

You thought you would copy the things I held dear, I worshiped, I LOVED myself for achieving! You stole all of that and thought that you could always lay back on ‘inspiration’! You DID tell me- “You are my true inspiration!” But what you didn’t account for was My New Policy.

Article One of which reads- Do Not Indulge in social service anymore, in social formalities anymore IF it co-incides with your General Well-Being.

I’ll make it simpler for you, you illiterate bufoon! It means I no more take crap from cheats like you (believe me, the insults repeat in this shallow circle only because of a certain Internet Code of Conduct in me.)

I no more sit back when someone takes advantage. I no more let it pass. Not I make BLASTS! I make sure everyone has heard of the disgusting thing you did, and I do it AS YOUR FRIEND. It’s simple; you play mean, I play false.

You stole My Things. I will make sure you never like that. But, look here smarty! I WON”T EVEN WASTE MY TIME ON THAT!

I’ll just push this ‘mission’ to the back of my mind until I find the opportunity (no planning, no time-waste) and then I SHALL STRIKE! And I’ll rest again. 🙂 I always did like dormant volcanoes you know.

What’s more, you thought you’d get away with it. You would tell the world- ‘Ya she was more into this kind of stuff but I just wanted to do this… You know, I always had this passion…” and so on. But anyone can read the fine print. They’ll know.

There is no law for this kind of crime. But it’s the make-or-break thing in school you know. Ohh, you’re so dead 🙂 (I can’t control my emotions! I can’t help it!)

Of course I am jealous! But that’s not gonna be your excuse. You’re gonna GO DOWN for treachery! Miss, who cares about jealousy, huh? And you thought you nailed it when a local news-bee chatted with you… “Ohh! So sweet!” he had said. Don’t make me laugh! That’s heights of cooing a baby! 

This is what I’ll do to you! Cartoon you already are, I’ll just make you this exhausted.I won’t even cry, “Catch that Cheat!” You are ALL MINE!

So there’s my 720 word love letter to you. Read it all? feel upset NOW? Good- see you later.

Disclaimer;  FICTION