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There is so much that people take for granted; the notion of being entitled. They naturally assume their needs and wants are more important and deserving, so they take more than they give. What irks me the most is when actions and behavior differ and there is an empathetical neglect / absence, when questioned, they justified and shaved off all responsibilities.

The epic tables-turning statements like, I didn’t ask for it, you did it voluntarily. And, different people appreciates differently, you have an expectation.

This is emotional abuse.

You. Let me straighten you up. You are a bully. Sometimes the other person isn’t looking for a reciprocation, an appreciation or even a return in favor of quantifiable value. It is because they somehow placed you on a somewhat higher priority than self and all they should henceforth deserve is you to return the gesture with nothing but just being a friend, a friend worthy enough and not used and reduced at your convenience.

What you did and didn’t do only magnified your selfishness and arrogance. In the laws of attraction, your pride and ego exude brilliance. But guess what, laws of reflection suit you better.


Other than work, errands and superficial brief interactions, I’ve been spending time alone. After all it’s not a bad thing to be lost in a familiar territory; my world. Few can tell if I’m socially and/or emotionally isolating myself, it’s voluntarily. Time, waiting or forgetting, I think I’m quite done with that. Perhaps I just need more solitude than others. Perhaps I’m already tired.

Am I functioning? Yes, I conceal that very well.

Stoned walls enclosed spaces,
Crossing boundaries blurring edges.
Barbed wires dirty mire,
Come what may set it on fire.

Make a wish they said,
I did, I’d hoped you’d stayed.

Pink Dot.

Hold on to your heart,
If only there is light.
Everything that seems lovely,
Is but a dreamy kind delight.

If I could keep your heart for a day,
A fire on the hearth I would lay.
If I could walk miles with you,
Across the glorious blue on a rainbow hue.

Grasping cold your beauty unfolds,
On a winter’s night your whispers ride.
Vivaldi’s four seasons softly plays,
Into melancholia you carry my soul.
Are you a reason or are you here to stay.


True beauty is not in its facial,
It’s reflected in one’s soul.
A little touch from heaven,
Imagination overflows.

You captivate from within,
A passion flower that grows.

A warm glow of embers,
Licking flames spring to life.
As if you’re on fire,
You set one’s heart ablazed with desires.

“As if you’re a fire from within, the moon lives in the lining of your skin.” – Pablo Neruda