Funny isn’t it, how some lines drawn upon people’s faces smeared on their clothes, stretched over their palms draw them together, the warmth of their voices and the coolness of their existence together at the exact moment shake up the present. And some other instance the same lines draw them far away, leaving the connection…
Read MoreThe wind blows, piercing cold radiating from the inside of the bones. Curl and twist to keep warm, dreaming of blossom as leaves fall over the ground. Chilly mornings, waiting for the sun to shine.
Read MoreNothing’s ever built to last, this is a line from Green Day’s 21 Guns. That song surges many emotions inside, but I’ve always thought of this particular line as a very sad one. Everything’s going go end, the Summer, the school, the best winning streak, the best times of youth. Someone will always tell you…
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I think of summer as autumn moves away opening the doors to winter. Strong gust of November winds blow past my shell ripping apart my safe house just at the start of the cold. Summer has ended, a season gone but work still remains to be done. I’ve been lazy dancing under the sun, now…
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As I stand on the terrace, chilly November wind brushes past the tip of my nose. I might catch a cold, there’s a 150% chance and I still stand there. There are lights everywhere, mostly bright blue and green, dangling from houses in vertical lines. They used to be milder and warmer before, but still…
Read MoreLayer after layer, skin everywhere peeled from one another. As the layers are gone so are the burdens with it. Everything’s lighter now. The peeling, indeed tough, but the result much better. I identify myself as an introvert. Much of my life I believed I couldn’t walk up and strike a conversation with anyone. Why…
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The Wordcastle 