Melancholy

I still think melancholy is the most beautiful feeling in the world. It was one afternoon in school, during lunch break that I found myself hanging by the corridor, alone, in the midst of the busiest crowd of students. Every time someone passed by, they asked me if i was ok. And I nodded, even smiled. But really I felt a kind of deep sadness. The kind from which i thought there was no return.

There is something that is bothering me. I once loved a man. It was not the acceptable kind of love. He was my boy friends friend. We shared a space long enough for me to feel attracted to him. But in my mind there was a kind of fighting. A fight between me and me. I suppressed my feelings towards him. But I could no longer love my boyfriend after that. We both tried to be together for two years after this incident, but there was so much fighting, that in the end, we broke up.

Well, about the fight that happened between me and me, I realised that I’m not married and that this is what love felt like and I went after what I felt was right. I went after his friend.. I liked to talk to him. His voice attracted me the most. I thought that there was nothing more beautiful in this world, than his voice.

But after a couple of meetings he realised that I was way too short for him. He was 6 feet tall and I am 5’1. When we fell in love we were both sitting and I connected to his eyes. There was music and weed. There was Nothing more mesmerising than our love. But when reality hit us.. He realised that we were not meant to be. Our physicality’s brought us apart. The irony of life. We kissed once. It wasn’t great. It was way better when we would just look at each other and smile. When smiles were better than kisses. Doesn’t happen everyday.

Now to the thing that is bothering me, I sent him a message two days ago. I told him that I was sad.. I told that I missed him and asked him to come to my house. (Well) So we could kiss again but he didn’t reply. And I’m feeling embarrassed and hurt. Why would I ask a six feet, grown, thirty two year old man to love me. Was I just desperate for sex? If I really was then I should be sending messages to a few other men who would be interested in such an endeavour.. But I am not. Not interested.

Hmm.. So it turns out that I was desperate for sex with him. Would I call it love? Well… Ya I would. Because When I decided to send that message I thought, after this much expected kiss he would fall in love with me, and we would marry each other and spend the rest of our lives in the presence of love. What a dream. Like I said earlier, he didn’t reply. #The kind of things that happens within a mind.

I wonder what he would be going through himself. But I am feeling ashamed. I find it rather odd that my reaction to shame is anger, because really it should be acceptance, and I am going through it. Its a wonderful feeling to accept your mistakes. Acceptance brings pain, but it brings the kind of pain that transforms. When everything is over you realise that somehow everything is magically transformed into beauty. I like being beautiful.

Life is the greatest feeling there ever is. The kind of problems that comes in life and the strength we come up with to face it. The kind of fights we put up and the prayers, life is truly magical. I like life. I like to face life with a big smile on my face that says, I love you, please come to me, give me abundance in all aspects, give me happiness. Give me love, take some even from me, you deserve it. I like life at all times. I want to remember this.

2010 – 2011
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The place that would blow your mind.

the guy i know.

I have to forgive him tonight before the night is over so I can sleep and wake up tomorrow. So I can live my perfect life again. But I wonder if I can.

Our life was so perfect and he destroyed it like he always does. He is the destroyer. He eats ants. He eats small red ants. He takes them and puts them in his mouth when he sees them crawling on the floor.

He said that they taste sour and asked me to do the same. He destroys things for no reason. People do different things. Some people create art out of trash, some people create new things, like-wise, some people destroy things.

This guy I know was a destroyer. He’d destroy anything a well functioning lighter, a beautiful pair of sun glass, a motorbike.

Its not that he would do so intentionally because his intention would always be to fix it but somehow he was never able to fix any of the things he ripped open or apart. I am a blamer. I am almost at the verge of blaming myself for his stupid act but that would be wrong.

On the upside, I loved him. We had the perfect relationship. We have had those unforgettable moments of laughter. Those moments feels like the best friendship in the universe. Kind of like love.

On the upside, I had an amazing time with him. A slow downfall with the best peak points. What a show that was.

On the upside, we were different. I was different. He was aimless, irresponsible and greedy as hell. He was loveless and gave me a lot of pain.

I will always remember him. I cannot change that. I will always be happy when I think of the of the best times we’ve had and sad knowing that he is not part of my life anymore. I learnt a lot from this relationship. I learnt that people are meant to be understood.

I learnt that men fall in love. And I realized that I am beautiful. How can I not forgive this extraordinary man. After all, I will always love him. Love is real only when you can accept their unacceptable wishes and not want to change it. He wanted to move on.

Yeah, well he wanted to.
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The most beautiful things in the world aren’t really things at all.

I remember this line from the movie american beauty. We watched that movie at my sister’s friends place. It was one of those really fun times. My sister’s friend had working parents. In India it meant freedom. Meaning there is no way in the world the parents would come back, between 9 AM and 5 PM. There would be home cooked food and my sisters friend would invite her boy-friends. So as curious as we were, my sister used to take me along during holidays because she was afraid of the idea of men and being together in a house.

We would watch movies, listen to songs, eat lunch, spend time. I honestly had no clue about what was going on between the older people but i can be sure that they were a decent bunch.

Anyway, that is where i first saw the movie american beauty. It was quite a sensational film at that time, even in america, i heard. Anyway, In that movie the hero asks the girl if she wants to see the most beautiful thing he has ever filmed?

The hero is a lonely filmer. He makes videos of random things he sees and has a cassette collection in his shelf. So the girl agrees to see and he shows her a video of a plastic bag on the road. You can find that scene here.

I have never understood this scene and therefore it has never left my mind. The things that haunt you, haunt you because you have not understood it yet. Once you understand something, the mind changes. It starts to look for more meaningful things. It grows. The mind grows like a plant, leaf after leaf it spurts its opinion from inside of you, and thus, creating you.

I feel a lot of pain in my heart. I wonder if that’s how real pain begins. The kind that leads to heart attacks and everything. Anyway. This pain is caused by love, betrayal and rejection. Its rejection mainly. In simple words, its the lack of attention from the people i love. Yes I am 27 years old and i still need attention. This probably is a reminder for myself to look into my needs.

I’ve been thinking a lot about money and the i feel comforted by the idea of working hard in order to live the kind of life i want. I like the idea of working. I like the idea of coming up in life but I wonder if i had leaned more towards the idea of money and forgotten to love.

It happens very easily, when life gets serious, its easy to feel stressed and not realize what you are feeling. What is life really?

Life is a gift. Life is magic. Life is the only precious thing there can ever be in this world. It is very easy to forget this and to find ourselves blended with the problems. Problems like what to do, what to wear, what to eat, how to look pretty, do they like me, do they hate me, why aren’t they happy, why are they famous, when will i ever get my break, why is life so difficult.. breathe.

The answer to all of those problems are in a single line, They are not real.

Because the truth is god is always helping us. If you have a problem, solve it. If you cant find a solution, pray to god for a solution and it will come up. If you are feeling too happy, thank god. If you are feeling too sad, experience it.

Don’t forget to pray for change. God answers prayers.

Last night i was too sad, i couldnt sleep. I couldn’t pray either because i had no idea what i was doing. So i went to my balcony and sat there. It had rained in the afternoon, and all evening, and there was some water on the concrete railing. Inside that water, i could see the reflection of a street light. I focussed my eyes like a camera and the street light was so clear that it looked like a painting. I moved forward and backward, and from left to right. The street light moved along with me. I could also see the reflection of the light on the highlights of the water. They were like small yellow dots as they were out of focus. It was beautiful. It reminded me that life is that extraordinary painting that we are meant to see and admire.

I realized how i had forgotten all about it, ever since i started worrying about my age and marriage. My parents think im too old to get married at 27. and i feel that im just as young as ever. After all 27 is just a number. And numbers don’t mean anything.

Sure, i still believe in age, because it means i have had a life for 27 years, and i have met so many people, i have had so many painful relationships and I’m still afraid of butterflies. But i also believe that life is magical, but i don’t know if love is real.

Oh mahananda Maye. Shree Krishna, the merciful. Please love me. As i am your child.

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Trippy Morning.

Weird Memories.

This is and will always be a stark memory. We were sitting by the infamous generator room of a coffee shop in the heart of the city and we were happy. Which never happens with me because I’m perennially sad. Moving on.

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One strange day while i was sitting alone and waiting for this stranger/best friend, he arrived with a foot ball in his hand. For a 29 year old it was weird to hang out with a foot ball i thought. Anyway that day, unlike all the other days, i had a camera in my hand and we ended up taking selfies of each other (the word had not-yet been invented).

Now that we broke up, every time i look at those pictures, i realize that those were the only few pictures i have of us together and i feel a weird kind of sad. The kind when i don’t know that i’m happy. I feel so burdened when i realize our friendship. I feel the need to write this down because its hard to remember that story.

Our relationship was like a motor-cycle ride. A really long motorcycle ride. Say you had to travel from goa to chennai on a bike and you were out of cash and all you had was fuel and an olden-type motorcycle that is a lion by the winds of the sun.

I’m going to tell you a story now. We started our journey thinking that it would be extraordinary, but inside his heart he was afraid, because he had no idea how this ride was going to be, and i was just excited because i was with him.

He rolled his bike into the highway, the wind and the dry heat were slowly making its presence felt, the sun was scorching my back and a few miles later our engine seized. We were abused by the on-going traffic, he was confused and we hadn’t a clue about what was going on.

God bless his strong mind i thought but i was still pissed off because all that i wanted to do was relax. I would have preferred staying at goa itself. Anyway, he fixed the bike and we were out rolling on fire and on the last day it began to rain and he rode like he didn’t care.

The ride went on for three days, it rained every two hours, and occasionally the sun came out and tanned my skin. I did not even know that bike-rides had pit-stops. 

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Love is unexplainable. I have spent a lot of time trying to understand it and i now realize that love is a conversation. Its an endless conversation between two people, two minds, that truly care for each other. 

Is it a sin to move on? Because as long as we were together i had no such emotional feelings towards him and i only felt insecure around him and suddenly when i know that he is gone i miss him. I also have questions like, there are one million people in this city and we need not have met at all but we did and now its over, what was all that time supposed to mean?

Was it a lesson? Or was it something that i created for myself? Did i want him to leave me and go? If i wanted all of this to happen, then why does it hurt?

I have almost forgotten him. When i see him somewhere, i feel scared. I don’t know why. It brings me back to that age-old thought about love. Cant live with someone and cant live without.

Sometimes i think feelings are the same for all of us, especially when we’re in love. I think, i feel so far away from him that seeing him makes me realize how close we really are. Is it possible that he knows how i feel? Or is he just wandering about aimlessly without a care in the world about what I’m thinking. I really think i should just forget him and move on, but in my heart i know all our struggles were for each other and for one purpose. Why would i want to hurt or destroy something so pure?

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Why I think we live in a magical world.

because of trees and flowers and fire and water and art. 

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Art is an exploration of the unknown, into the unknown. It is a little bit like water flowing into water. A waterfall that joins the sea, perhaps. What a wonderful visual poetry it creates while at it? Art, is such a creation.

Art is the secret of man-kind. It is in everything. It is in engineering, it is in science, it is in mathematics. Art is the ability to create meaning. The meaning can be in the form of a word, an equation, an image or even a world.

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It was from a single piece of limestone that the Egyptians constructed the great pyramids. From imagination, the Eiffel tower was built. Today, everything we see and use, from bikes to computers. From mobile phones to aeroplanes, cycles even clothes. Everything, was just an idea in someone’s mind before he chose to build it. To break down an idea and to understand or evaluate the things necessary in order to “create” is called visual thinking.

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I am carried away by visual arts. I think that visual arts, is a remarkable form of magic, because magic is that feeling when man cannot possibly imagine how something is done. To me art is like that. When an artist creates an image from nothing but raw colours, i am simply stunned.

How does he do it? Remember how you felt when you saw a youtube video of an artist at work? If you haven’t seen any art videos, please youtube “art time-lapse” and see how an artist creates an image right in front of your eyes. You will know what i mean. The mind sees what it wants to see and art is the perfect explanation for it.

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I was in a van travelling back home. The van had stopped somewhere in the hills. We were coming down the holy hills of Tirupati. To the left of me was a window from which i could see the dense forest. At first, i could only see the forest. But Soon i saw things that i could not see before. A garland hanging over a tree, the colour of the tree bark, the cold wind.

My eyes were constantly shifting between the window, the forest and the rose garland that i had just found hanging on one of the trees. I saw another tree. It was a firm, thick, strong and beautiful tree and my eyes slowly shifted to what was at the bottom. There was, as i recall a statue of a hindu god. I could not tell if the statue was real or a stone. My vision was fading and the distance between me and the statue were far enough that i could not possibly go closer to see if the statue was real or part of my imagination. So i asked my father who was sitting next to me, and he said that it was just a stone. I wondered.

Why would a stone look like god to me? The driver who was now about to drive the van, said that he could also see the same statue that i was seeing. Hmm.. How did he know?

I knew it was just the colours on the stone that made it look like a statue of god. Maybe someone spilt colours, may be those were not even the colours. May be it was nothing but how could i stop from thinking.. O Mahananda MayE.

My friend asked me this question, quite an amazing thought process it led me on. “How do i know that you and i see the same red colour ! ” There is not a way to know. I could spend my entire life imagining that green was in fact red.

How do i know that you and i see the same thing. Well these are just some crazy thoughts but it is possible to see things in reality that are not really there, and those abilities are actually diseases. Like schizophrenia and psychosis.

So, What is magic really? I have always thought of this great question and I think i may have finally found an answer. Magic is an extraordinary feeling of surprise. We all like pleasant surprises. It is the same reason we like magic.

Magic makes us believe what we cannot otherwise believe. That the world is in fact, a magical reality.

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The way i can prove this to you is by making you understand art. Art is the result of imagination. Traditional art especially is created by visual thinking. In photography there are three tones of light. Highlight, mid-tone and shadow. The same applies for traditional art as well. Appropriate lighting and change of colour with the appropriate light is what creates an image.

If you think about it, the world is our 3 dimensional painting, created by colours, light and shadow. How can you possibly prove that the world exists when everything is just a perception created inside your mind. Sometimes i have memories in the form of smells. My childhood is filled with extraordinary memories and my life as a photographer has given me the wealth in observation.

There is magic everywhere. and all around us. There is impeccable beauty in the world. The world is entirely beautiful but we are in such deep sleep that we cannot see it all the time. The universe and the endless net of the galaxies and the idea that the universe is probably just a neuron inside someone’s brain, is all very, very beautiful.

Life becomes magic when we realize that everything is just a perception, your problems and your reality. You can be free from worries and every wish of yours will become true. Like inception, you only need to dream fearlessly.

Green is the meaning of a colour. Tree is the word to a structure. Water is an element, fire is an element. Elements are all part of another dimension. They have their own abilities. Its like they have a mind of their own. The natures mind is far greater than our own. Elements are very different from us. Physics is an extraordinary subject. What makes the air move? Why do we forget that we breathe? What are magnetic fields? How does life really change?

The buildings we see and the glass we break, the things we love and the things we lose, the men and the women and the children we care about, are only real as long as we stay in this magical world. We are all going to die one day and we are never going to remember how we lived. So while we are still alive, don’t you care to know how beautiful life really is?

Who are we? Where do we live eternally? what is our divine abode? The body is such a beautiful thing. Like a tree or a flower. Like a bottle in which you pour water and keep.

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The body has healing powers. I find it magical everytime prayers are answered. I find it magical when a wound naturally heals. Nature is magical and above all love is magical. There is nothing more beautiful than the ups and downs of love. Time is not real. Time is only a way to measure change. Change is constant. I want to think that love is family.

There is nothing more magical than the story of life and the time it takes. The dreams and the breaks in between before you see your dream come true. What a beautiful thing is our mind, to remember everything and to experience a life in the presence of god who would give you everything you can possibly imagine. In mY mind forever.

The butterfly.

Writers block

It’s been a long time since I wrote, but Every-time I sit down to write, I am always thrilled and shocked by the power of knowledge. I sometimes don’t understand where thoughts originate from. The more I think about it I feel a bit distressed. But eventually I understand that writing is an extraordinary talent. It’s the only way to express your feelings without shame, guilt or fear. I always feel that when you write, you take a load out of your heart and leave it aside for you to read later on, it’s like a photograph in a way, you know..

Sometimes I feel like there are so many thoughts that have never been voiced. My mind is like a cage of voices. Each one shouting for its freedom. Can thoughts be prisoned? Is that really a sin?

What happens when you drop a chain into the ocean? Will it ever come back up? Do cats really respect each other? Is friendship better than love? Why is it so hard to love the people you really love? Why are colours so beautiful?

I believe that curiosity is what makes you grow. Unlike growing physically, you can grow mentally, and to grow mentally you must be curious and courageous, to accept your own knowledge. You’re own light. Because, once we understand something, then the search is over. We are then, out there, looking for something more. Man is always looking to understand. The hunger for knowledge and the thirst for freedom are the only things man should cherish. Because there is nothing more beautiful than freedom and happiness.

Writing brings out your true self. Once you get past writers block, you’d be surprised how much you can think.

School

I was sitting outside my hindi classroom, by the canteen, with my mom. My dad had gone to find something in, im guessing he wanted to find a place for me in the classroom. It was the first day of school, i remember it so well. When i returned back home my mom was really mad at me because i went to the tamil class instead of hindi.

She really wanted me to study hindi. She was an expert in the language having passed her prathmik exams. Thinking about it i now realize why i never learnt hindi.

I took hindi till i was in the seventh standard. From my eighth i learnt french. I loved the teacher, the friends and especially the classroom. There was only one french teacher in my school, so students of all sections were sort of mixed up during this class. It was the best time of the day. Students overflowed from every bench, checking out MRS. PEREIRA’s pretty smile.

I loved going to school. Not a fan, but i still enjoyed the ups and downs of a 12 Year-long life.

I fell in love, with a few men, a woman, some teachers, we sold gold, we bought fancy-ass phones. We drank beer in school, we fought with the hostelites, won in fashion shows, acted, fought, jumped, ran, hid, prayed, swayed, went to nightclubs, and faraway drives. Ate the world and we were still not satisfied.

School was a time, when the thirst for fun began. Fun for no reason. Meaningless, shameless, prideful dangerous living. Dangerous for its creed and crude forms of resolutions. To play with rules. To escape school. To escape the painful hours of education?

Most of us took home science and psychology and clothes designing as our major study in twelfth std.

Twelfth std is the secret of my school.

the in between year between knowing what to do and being told what to do. School was being told what to do. It was a mesmerising time, I was mesmerised by the friendship and not knowing what was going to happen next sort of feeling. I had really good friends back in school. Friends who don’t tell each other we’re friends. Friends who plan every single move to absolute continuum.

A continuum of fun and danger. We liked being dangerous. We liked taking control. We liked building stories about each other to teachers. Mostly it was just me. I build stories. It’s what I do. Whatever I did, I never rat about each other. It’s just that I liked telling teachers that I write for magazines and that’s how I got the money to buy a phone.

Reputational lies.

Omg. School.

Fear of Butterflies

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I was six or younger, may be even older, i don’t remember my age as much my memories. We were living in Chennai, the place i grew up. There used to be an annual trade fair that happened at the YMCA palace grounds. One particular year my brother, Its funny how i associate this brother as the root cause of my non-understanding of relationships and the fear of butterflies. This brother isn’t my real brother. He is a family friend. Anyway. He put up a stall at the trade fair. He sold paper butterflies.  It had a sort of mechanism, made of rubber band. If you wind the rubber band and let it go the big huge butterfly would fly so far away with a rattling plastic paper noise.   I was his assistant for this project. My job was to go pick up the butterflies and bring it back to the stall, every time he wound it to demonstrate.

This is my first memory that i associate with the fear of butterflies.

My question is, if i was scared of butterflies before this incident then there was no way i agreed to work with him on this project. I don’t remember exactly since when i’ve been scared of it, because if i knew then i would know what the reason is. This fear isn’t small or simple or as many people have told me, Irrational. I understand that it is an irrational fear, but nevertheless it is true, to me. I can tell you  what scares me in a butterfly. You may try to make some sense out if it and it might help me understand this so called, irrational fear.

I don’t remember who told me this, but i think its my mom. We were younger and we were discussing something in our old house, when someone, i’m not sure if its my mom or my uncle because she says that she doesn’t remember saying this, so.. someone told me that the butterfly’s wings are so fragile that if you touched it, you will leave behind a hole on its wing and the colour will stick on you. For some reason this is a very scary idea for me. If you need to know why, let me tell you, it makes extreme sense to me. How do i elaborate, if i did it would reveal my true nature. I will feel naked, to myself if i told you what sense it makes to me.  Nevertheless, i assure you, sense keeps changing, and so there is no reason why i should believe the sense it just made to me.

This is something i feel ashamed to say, i don’t think butterflies are beautiful.   I’ll tell you why i feel ashamed. I am a photographer, the only reason i started doing photography is because i believe in beauty. I believe in harmony, i believe that when everything is in harmony, it is beautiful. The problem with the butterfly is that its colours or patterns on its wings are not even. I mean its like a fractal art rip-off.  Its too uncoordinated, its harsh and the dark spots. God, those are eyes, i used to think that that was the eye of a butterfly. But, later i found out that the actual creature is somewhere in between these giant scary wings.

I have a lot of stories to tell about how embarrassed i’ve felt at the sight of a butterfly. I don’t want to run through it, but in short they are all extremely embarrassing situations. If you need to know, i wouldn’t care what i have to do, in order to escape a butterfly. Be it jumping of a building or running on thorns. In that immediate position, my brain will quickly calculate the easiest way out and i will run for my life. Even if i were sitting in a coffee shop or relaxing and if i notice a butterfly far away in my sight. I will not be able to look at anything else, except be aware of which direction the next wind would take it. For some reason, when i care so much about it, and when i pray to god, asking him to take it away, it will always come closer to me.

Its like, i feel negative. I feel that my mind always wishes for what i don’t want.  Does that make sense?

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How to save your life

Hi. My name is yamini and i am about to transform a disastrous journey into the most amazing life in the world, get a good look on both sides.

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Five years ago i was pursuing a dream career and i left it all behind and walked away with a boyfriend i wasn’t sure i was in love with. Five years later i am sitting in my dungeon, puffing away my lungs and watching ugly betty because i cant get a grip on my reality. I admit it. I have lost myself over some stupid love affair that i dont even understand. I have kept my life in stake over a guy who thinks im not pretty enough for him. Or wait may be thats what i think. But who cares, he never made me believe otherwise.

I only ask myself why? Why do women like to be treated like a mans shoe? Why did i let this guy into my heart and let him break it into pieces that can never be put together again?

I would be lying if i said i am not trying to vent my emotions, but the truth is i dont care so much about my emotions as much as i care to remember what it is. Emotions, the unexplainable phenomenon of a merely animalish life.

What are emotions? Why do i cry when i think of the past. Why is my mind clouded with these useless thoughts of a stupid guy? Who am i? Why do i have to live, love or die for someone else? Do i have an answer for any of this? Do we know what we do with the only opportunity we have to be? Do we know what we do to our lives?

We dont. We are people who cant do anything on our own. We are people who have given our life away for the meaty desires of this stupid world. Its not like we always need someone  from the outside to tell us who we are or what we do, but no, that is just exactly what we do. We turn around and bend over to strangers in the hope of letting them decide what we want to be.

We are women. We are submissive women for bad men. Its kinda kinky the way we do that. Kinky and stupid. But there is just one thing i need to tell you.. I ve been there, i ve done that and i know i will do it again. I will let this guy hurt me and i will not regret it. you know why? Because i am that woman.

i know nothing is going to change my life if i dont change it, but how do i change something if i dont know what it should be. Ah, that’s my string to reality surfacing on the shore. I am in love and love makes us all go blind to the truth of ourselves. This is my pathetically wasted life and i can tell you a million stories about it or i can let you imagine it. This is a breakthrough i am experiencing and you will too, if you stop to question yourself.  In the end, there can be only one reality. If you dont save your life nobody else will and not especially that guy you are completely in love with and ready to die for. Good morning. Image