The Drink That Killed Her

If you think I was writing about you, you’ve got it wrong 😀

He  says he drinks just enough to kill all his fears
And he drinks till that bottle drowns him in his tears
And then to a different world he escapes to
Somewhere he thinks he can start things anew
He dreams of places beautiful and things nice
And he listens to everything but his own cries
He’s desperate to make his way out of his own grave
But he’ll put himself down if there’s someone to save
He sips his drink, a glass of whatever at a time
Then looks down at the bottle like it’s a crime
He’s killing himself slowly and he knows it  pretty well
He took one more sip, that’s when the dreams and he fell
Sitting there, wasting his short life in his own time
Claiming at ease all his problems only to be mine
Memories flood his mind but simply he ignores them,
And pretends to be a person sunk deep in fame.
He whispers his words and muffles an innocent cry
And they give him disgusted looks as they pass him by
The blood will kill him someday but he doesn’t care
Cos life without his drinks would be a nightmare
His eyes a bloodshot red, he stares longingly at the stars
Looks at Venus, smiles painfully and then names it Mars
“The good times will pass”, he sighs and says
But he doesn’t take a step away from where he stays
He wipes the sweat off his dirt grimed forehead
And believes and swallows all the lies he’s ever been fed.
He’s a lone person walking down the street tonight,
Looking for a life, looking for a sign to start a fight.
But, at the end of the day he’s still the people’s friend,
He’s their man and they just won’t pretend.
He drinks all day but that’s a secret he’ll never tell
But all things came down the day he tripped and fell.
That day he lost not just his own poor life,
He also lost his daughter and his loving wife.
“A car crash” was all over News Flash
But that bottle was that man’s real trash.
Tonight that bottle’s in the hands of another,
Crying for her destiny, at home is her poor father
She sips it, falls to the floor and yelps in pain,
And another life is lost in vain.

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Your Story

“Parting is such sweet sorrow.”
Sometimes you have to say goodbye not to the person itself but to a tiny piece of a person hidden among the many other pieces.

I looked at your eyes and saw a story there. A story waiting to be told but one that no one would ever stop to listen to. I looked at it, trying to read between the lines but all I saw was a blur of colours because you were covering it up. You were hiding the best parts of the story, forgetting the person standing in front of you. Your story, waiting to be heard but forever yours to keep. I could read the lines underlined, I could hear the words you chose to whisper instead of scream, I could see the tears you never let go of because you were ashamed of people seeing it. You were breaking down in front of me but you covered it up. The smart and formal clothes you wore so proudly presented a person you never were. Your true self shone through all of that, there are some things that just can’t be covered… like the thoughts you were so skillfully hiding. You thought you were good but when you realised I was seeing right through you, you tried to hide them, but then you forgot what you were hiding… The smiles that you were proud of , lost in time and covered by dust… there was something in the way you smiled that took you back to the times when you ran around, played like all kids did. Your tears, though painful and sad came with a price. I was listening to the song your soul was playing… the music that I was so touched by. Your true self shone, your true colours were brought out… I looked at you one more time and I knew things would be alright. I had learnt something though you didn’t know. You may have tried to hide the story from me, but I saw you adding me in your story for just you to know. I looked at you one last time and I knew I’d never see you again but I’d never forget you either.

Update (Yeah, my life’s intersting) Part iii

It’s 00:30 as I type this. 50% of the people who live in the same place as me are asleep but the other 50% are awake. I just finished studying one subject for tomorrow’s exam and I have one more to go. I’m nibbling on a biscuit filled with chocolate cream and listening to “You were mine” by Dixie Chicks and I think right now is the perfect time to update my dear friends (and strangers who read my blog. Sorry if you’re here for the first time, hello to you as well) about what’s going on in my life. So, if you didn’t know, there have been some drastic changes in my life… with places and people. I’m somewhere new (I’m almost comfortable here now), with people I hadn’t known for the last seventeen years of my life and guess what? I’m starting to like it. I must admit the first few days were very very challenging and horrible things did happen but I survived, and I guess that’s what’s important. In some ways I’ve tried to change my ways of thinking but every now and then (and a little too often) I go back to what’s been part of me for long enough to define me. I still somehow make time to write because as you know that’s the thing that I enjoy doing the most even if I’m not very good at it. I’ve met a lot of interesting people and they all seem to fascinate me in weird and wonderful ways. Some people I’ve met, I may have once had a dream to meet, some others I feared meeting, and then there are the others who will always surprise me with how their thoughts coincide (or not) and how creepy it is that we know each other. With time and place, things around me have changed in certain ways and never will in some other ways. So far, so good.  It’s 00:45 now and I’m the only one still up. And I have an entire book to study before 10:00 tomorrow. Seems like there’s hardly going to be any time for sleep, but right now… more country music. Goodnight, Good morning or whatever and happy 17th of January.

Chasing Shadows

If you look beneath the layer of a stubborn teenager, you might see that I’m writing about someone who’d go through anything just to know he’s alive. Someone who dances with shadows. After all, we know we’ll fall but we jump anyway.

“I DON’T CARE!” I screamed and ran away from the cold words that were made to penetrate my skin. I could hear the sound of my heart beating against my chest and my breathing increase in pace as I took every turn and every twist on the road. The wind blew into my face but it wasn’t refreshing. The hot sun blazed over my head and all I could see was a blur of a figure crossing my path. I had to reach it before the shadow disappeared, before the sound of the footsteps drowned my words. I gasped for air but kept my pace steady. My legs were buckling under the weight of the troubles I was getting myself into, and I tripped a few times. The rough road was agonizing me, giving me just as much pain as I would have known coming. Nothing was helping my situation because I was going out of reach, out of touch, out of my world. I kept running till I finally saw the shadow slow… I put in all of the energy I had left to reach out for it but the moment I stretched my hand, the shadow disappeared. I had seen it all coming but I wasn’t ready to accept it. I fell to the ground and sat there waiting for the lost energy to come back to me… I waited long enough to figure out it was never going to come back.
“I don’t care,” I said to myself and picked myself up for I had to look for another shadow to chase.

You Don’t

I found the first stanza that I left incomplete three months ago today and thought I should give it an ending.

Do I cross your mind like you cross mine,
Or have I become an element of time?
How far have things changed since then,
Am I now not good enough to be your friend?

Are my words forgotten and memories gone,
Or is the war in your head still raging on?
Do my memories sting at the back of your mind,
And make you selfless, hurt and almost blind?

I stopped thinking about you a little while ago,
Cos thinking of you only makes me miss you more
But I feel like I’m losing the only part of you I had
Cos memories don’t change even if you’ve turned bad

Where do I go now when I want to relive the times
And who’s going to repeat to me my own punch lines?
Go right ahead and ask me to fix the broken hearts,
But do you know what it takes to remove the poison darts?

Things change but people change faster, promises are broken just as fast as they are made, you ask people to trust you when you don’t trust yourself. Everything around you comes crashing down just when you think you can start building your way again, and when you think you’ve figured out someone they take you by surprise all over again. We learn time and again how not to trust people yet we do the same thing over and over again. The worst part comes when you think you’re fooling the world but fooling yourself instead. You accept the truth in secret but deny it in public. This post seems like it means nothing to you but you’re pondering on the words, aren’t you?

Aside

Interesting Stories

“Interesting” you may say. I’ll nod and say it is.

To you it’s nothing but a story… a story you were lucky to hear and lucky also to have never been part of.
You weren’t the one there being shot at, you weren’t the one onto whose arms the the needles went into. It wasn’t your child they took away from you. You never had to see your brother killed slowly while all you could do was watch and cry. You weren’t the one who slept by the trash cans night after night hoping some stranger would throw some food at your feet. You can listen to the stories with your drinks and chips and laugh about it, question the story teller, think of clues that add up to the resolution or argue with the mindset of the storyteller to try and reveal the truth… Did it ever occur to you that the he’s been through all that you’re laughing about? She’s had to face the demons, he’s had to feed  the town with nothing to eat himself… that little kid you think is lying has been through  more that you’ll ever think of. The smile on her face you say makes her pretty is only her way of covering up for the tears that no one sees. The bruises on her face don’t come from gymnastics… she been nowhere close to the gymnasium yesterday because her boyfriend beat her up at that very moment. She still holds on to that abuser because he’s the only one she’s got. You show interest in the story because it entertains you. Your entertainment is his only way of buying a piece of bread for his dying kid. This is why his wife had threatened to set the house on fire… their tiny shelter on the roadside is going to go in flames because no one cares. You laugh at the woman, you call her mad but really she has more strength that you… she’s had hope for so long. She’s had hope on you, and you simply laugh. He laughs. She laughs. They all laugh at her… but who does she laugh at? No one.
That man in a suit stole money to buy it.. all because he’d get a job if he dresses up well. That would be the only way he could build his home, and you look at him in disgust because he wears old shoes. That’s not how he’d like to wear, they’re the only pair of shoes he has.
You call her everything no one would like to hear. You laugh at the things she does and tell the world stories. The sad thing is how you never stop to listen to her story first. In your eyes she’s a woman who’d do anything for money… but to her, it’s easier listening to your words than to give up on the only ways to earn her money. That’s how much she struggles to see her daughter smile, to give her the future she never had.
The kid who you pointed a finger at has enough fingers pointing at him already. It’s not his fault that he’s young and into drugs… that was his only escape and you’re taking it away from him.
Don’t judge me when I write these fancy words into a blog. Don’t say I don’t know what I’m talking about, don’t call me a know-it-all. I know I don’t know it all and you don’t either but here’s something I can tell you… I’m a storyteller but just like the kid on the road, the boy who made the wrong decision or the woman who set herself on fire, there’s a real story behind the sugar-coated words that I say as well. So don’t judge me, because you’re judging me wrong.

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