Cluttered Set Of Emotions

If hoarding emotions and thoughts was a skill, I’d be a professional at this point in time. Hoping it will become easier as months goes by, and all of that.

To be honest, my writing has definitely impacted somewhat. You analyze yourself and others too much, as well as your surroundings and patterns.

Hard to believe we’re almost two weeks into the New Year, I’ve had a semi-productive timeline as of recent. It’ll pick up eventually, and so will the motivation and inspiration to do bigger and better things with my mind.

Reflection is good, to some extent. Just don’t overdo it, you’ll thank me later.

There is a lot I have to learn, and accept about myself. Bad habits, that one might need to take a second look at. A lot of books I want to read, places I want to visit and appreciate. Nostalgia seems to have hit me , ever so discreetly.

It’s also nearly four years without my grandmother, I am always in disbelief about this. Feels like yesterday when I held her hand, that last smile has replayed in my mind, more times than I can count. Her strength through it all has definitely played a major part. All I want to do is make my guardian angel proud.

Poem For My Guardian Angel

Within my heart
Y
our soul can reside

You were an angel
Before your time

Yet there’s a difference now
You’ve gained your wings

So fly, my angel, fly high
May your soul be at peace

Writing Session #7

Today felt slightly peculiar. I was nostalgic for a moment or two, longing for a familiar face that no longer co-exists on my path. You could say that I was speechless, perhaps taken aback of the memories that were flashing before my eyes. Out of all times to feel such a sudden, yet emotive pull. People often dare say that I; There must be something off with you.

My heart is a chord you often strike, like a puppet to their master, I am yours to manipulate in any which way. A collection of thoughts, that have a mind of their own. They see home in hollow bed sheets and in lustful perfume. They see home inside of you.

Tonight felt, awkwardly the same. I was always ashamed to admit that I loved you, but in the sense that love goes as it came. Perhaps, as I like to often say; There is something off with you, but I’d like to know more, about the you in the archive of dreams. Within arms.

How Does One Truly Let Go?

The intuitive aspect of unrequited love is clear as day, but the urge to hear from you seems to be clouding my ability to focus. I think I’m more scared of the reaction than I am of anything else.

 

 

Although, I must admit, being here has brought a lot of memories back, like I kind of knew in my heart that it would. Not completely tragic, but it does make me realize what I lost.

 

 

Not sure why it’s so emotive all of a sudden. And I usually keep my thoughts to myself, which is the kind of person I’ve always been, yet tonight it’s been on my mind so much, the need to write was heavier than usual. Excuse the perhaps repetitive nature of my blogging as of recently.

 

 

Next week, I’m sure I’ll be back to my usual self. But until then, I’ll just keep writing until it’s all out of my system for the time being. If only you could turn back the clock and alter the mistakes you made.

Losing You Was My Mistake, An Open Letter To An Old Love

After years of wishing to be present at this place, I’m finally here, in what seemed like the longest mission.

But the sad part is, you’re not part of the equation. You’d probably freak out if you knew, or perhaps that’s just me worrying about your reaction.

Being here is odd, wonderful yet strange. We haven’t spoken in over a year, calling you would probably be a bad idea, so I’m pushing my feelings aside and spilling my emotions here instead.

To be honest or just keep thoughts closed, the question spinning inside my mind.

I want to say what I feel, but at the same time, talking on impulse is never a good scenario when your emotions are on full speed.

People always did say that I was a little too vocal about this dear heart of mine, and without too much thought, ended up alienating myself from the ones I cared about the most.

Ultimately, the person on the wrong side of things was me, despite my denials and trials.

Because of my personal insecurities and stupid ways, I lost an important person in my life, someone who stood by me during the hardest moments, not because I deserved it, but because they cared unconditionally.

That’s what I regret the most, losing you.

And it’s not that I desire things to be back to how they were, or how they should have been, but I cannot deny the fact that I miss the friend I knew and loved, and still do.

PS: You’re a bright star in a dim world.

Muses & Archived Emotions

Wanted to share a poem with you today. This will be in my poetry book when it’s finally published. Title & release date is yet to be announced but this piece will give you a clue if you read down the starting points. Or perhaps it already sounds familiar?

 

This piece is called “MUSES & ARCHIVED EMOTIONS”

Continue reading “Muses & Archived Emotions”

chapters of your story to be written

This is not exactly my typical post on here. Often enough, it’s about deeper things and my thoughts regarding them. As much as this is an emotionally involved piece of writing, it is of a wonderful kind. Continue reading “chapters of your story to be written”

poem; under the moonlight

“This is a recent poem I wrote, titled: Under The Moonlight, a simple expression of how love can be a one-way street, and how letting go is harder than the actual falling in love

Continue reading “poem; under the moonlight”

ramblings of a writer, part 2: music

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Baie via Flickr.

As promised, this is the second part to my ramblings of a writer post not long ago…

It’s ironic that I’m writing this blog post on the 19th, and speaking about the emotive effect songs can have on you; mainly since it’s been exactly 9 months since I lost my precious grandmother, and many can imagine; and know the magnitude of what loss can be. At times, it feels like rain on your parade, and other times, it’s another, different story.

But, let’s get straight to the point: Music. Continue reading “ramblings of a writer, part 2: music”

why a broken heart does not define you

 

 

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Photo credit: Alessandra Hechanova via Flickr.

 

 

Love is like buying a house; you invest time into something that will ultimately either fall apart or benefit your life immensely as the moments turn into cherished memories.

 

The odds of it being the idealistic scenario you imagined in your mind for years is a short branch on a grown tree.

Continue reading “why a broken heart does not define you”