Heart broken?
Well, this too shall pass eventually, but the most difficult thing is when you are going through the phase. It seriously suck to be heart broken, it’s a horrible feeling. A feeling where you feel the whole world is coming to an end. But trust me that is not the end.
Well, you and I aint the only ones who have been heartbroken. There are many who have been through this. We are not alone; everyone gets their heart broken once in their lifetime. What matters is how long you take to get over it.
Me, I am heartbroken because of many things. Sometimes life just doesn’t seem to go your way. So I just hold my head and feel so depressed, and eventually I have a broken heart, I remain heartbroken for a long time. And the moment something starts going my way, my broken heart is mended.
Who says broken hearts cannot be mended? It’s all a matter of time and yeah, a lot of patience.I am no pundit in getting my heart broken but yes, I have had this only heart of mine broken many a times.
I once had my heart broken because I couldnot see my grandma again. Her death broke my heart because I hurt her just the night before she died.
The other time my heart really broke was when my little brother, my better half got married. Yes, my heart was broken because I was thinking selfishly. To have his wife (believe me she is such a darling) take over as his better half was really heart breaking.
Kay is an old friend, when friendship turns out to be something beyond that everything gets screwed up. I was heart broken because I lost my good friend. He is a tough guy though, I am counting on him to get pass this difficult passage we both have to face.
My heart breaks every time I listen to certain songs which tells you that is either a love song or you might be heartbroken or the songs which gives you the vibes and you just know that certain songs are a part of your life.
I was heart broken when I watched the movie ‘In pursuit of happiness’. It reminded me of myself when I am broke by the second week of each month. Yea, it is suffocating, depressing and seriously heart breaking.
My heart not only broke but I cried when I interviewed a woman for my article, “Battered Wives”. I was heartbroken that her story would cause anyone pain. It should be a source of joy. Her story is a metaphor about how we try to stay in our own little bubbles, we don't let life in, and we don't take the journey of life either.
My heart breaks every time my son falls sick, such a little innocent thing sick. I try to protect him from any thing that would harm him. But when things go beyond my control, I feel helpless, guilty and heart broken
.But most of all I was heart broken when I saw pictures of women carrying children to work. The women were sex workers, and their clients made them work infrount of the children. I have had my heart broken over a lot of things, but like how people truly fall in love once in their life time, my heart truly broke for the first time when I saw those pictures!
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Monday, August 11, 2008
The Art of Drinking!
Tequila makes me violent but that’s what I am and I love it.
Vodka sneaks up on me like an evil assassin of drunkenness.
Gin, on the other hand, turns me mean, it’s a perfect energizer just before a basketball game. I strongly refute the idea that port gives you worse hangovers.
Champagne gets me stumbling around quickly but this is likely to be because I only ever drink it at parties without eating properly.
Mixers make a difference too.
All alcohol is depressant and sedative but drinking vodka with Red Bull or Coke (loaded with sugar and caffeine) will obviously have a different effect than drinking it neat.
Beer often is a drink to get you laid, but it bloats up my stomach and heaven forbid what happens after that.
My sinusitis becomes clear with the strong smell of whiskey but to drink it is out of the question.I enjoy the classiness while drinking wine, but it makes me mistake words for thoughts.
I like our very own Ara, I have always liked it and that’s why I aint touching it ever again.
Druk 11000 has taken out a lot from inside me and 1000 beer has been my college drink.
Black mountain made me master the art of getting drunk and Baileys have basically made my pockets empty.
Traditional alcohol like Tongba and Bangchang always brings out the Bhutanese in me.
There is a devil in every berry of the grape wine, the drink responsible for getting me into trouble with dad.
I would take poison but I can’t stand the taste of rum.
I would rather have my belly burst than miss out on a drink like Jungle Fever.
I have always preferred the olives to martinis but the shaker always does the magic.
Changkey is the only alcohol I can drink without any limitations at family gatherings.
Rockbee is the cause and the solution to many of my life’s problems.
My rule of life prescribed as an absolutely sacred rite when I got a shot of dad’s $1000 worth scotch and how I wish I can lay my lips on it again.
And then again reality bit me when I had to bump someone to buy me a shot of screw driver.
And yet when I think of drinking, it is the most essential part of me.
I have made friends, I have drowned my sorrows, celebrated my happiness and above all it has kept me alive.
Drinking is one thing and getting drunk is another so hats off to all the drunkards.
Vodka sneaks up on me like an evil assassin of drunkenness.
Gin, on the other hand, turns me mean, it’s a perfect energizer just before a basketball game. I strongly refute the idea that port gives you worse hangovers.
Champagne gets me stumbling around quickly but this is likely to be because I only ever drink it at parties without eating properly.
Mixers make a difference too.
All alcohol is depressant and sedative but drinking vodka with Red Bull or Coke (loaded with sugar and caffeine) will obviously have a different effect than drinking it neat.
Beer often is a drink to get you laid, but it bloats up my stomach and heaven forbid what happens after that.
My sinusitis becomes clear with the strong smell of whiskey but to drink it is out of the question.I enjoy the classiness while drinking wine, but it makes me mistake words for thoughts.
I like our very own Ara, I have always liked it and that’s why I aint touching it ever again.
Druk 11000 has taken out a lot from inside me and 1000 beer has been my college drink.
Black mountain made me master the art of getting drunk and Baileys have basically made my pockets empty.
Traditional alcohol like Tongba and Bangchang always brings out the Bhutanese in me.
There is a devil in every berry of the grape wine, the drink responsible for getting me into trouble with dad.
I would take poison but I can’t stand the taste of rum.
I would rather have my belly burst than miss out on a drink like Jungle Fever.
I have always preferred the olives to martinis but the shaker always does the magic.
Changkey is the only alcohol I can drink without any limitations at family gatherings.
Rockbee is the cause and the solution to many of my life’s problems.
My rule of life prescribed as an absolutely sacred rite when I got a shot of dad’s $1000 worth scotch and how I wish I can lay my lips on it again.
And then again reality bit me when I had to bump someone to buy me a shot of screw driver.
And yet when I think of drinking, it is the most essential part of me.
I have made friends, I have drowned my sorrows, celebrated my happiness and above all it has kept me alive.
Drinking is one thing and getting drunk is another so hats off to all the drunkards.
Painful Success!
I stare at the keyboard, my fingers motion less, I stare at the screen, and it’s been blank for the last one hour. Where is the ponder which comes to me every night and gives me the words to write? (Hey it rhymes ha-ha) It surely seems to have disappeared today.
My note pad lies on my desk, containing one of the finest interviews I took and my pen which normally strikes off information used for my article has remained idle tonight. I curse the journalistic ethic of putting the punch line as the lead, getting the lead right needs a lot of brainstorming.
Somehow I always managed but tonight something is not right, I just can’t get the lead right. Am I missing the passion or is it the angered air because of some punks creating a scene outside my apartment?
Don’t be distracted, concentrate I tell myself.
Oh these words tonight just aren’t going anywhere, definitely not to the stories’ folder tomorrow morning.
After an hour of thinking, re-writing, cursing, smoking innumerous cigarettes, sending a few SMS, looking at some pictures, I get a 55 word lead typed.
Balls! A lead has to be about 45 words, I think again, re-write, smoke again (no SMS this time) and finally get a lead of 40 words.
Perfect! The flow is on, my fingers busy, my idle pen striking off the information used, smiling, there is no stopping me now.
Hell! Wait! I cannot figure out a word, damn, I should have asked the interviewee to slow down or I should have written it a bit slowly. I read the sentence over and over, trying to get the word. Damn! How I wish I could just presume it and go on. I figure it out after a while, voila, I get back with the flow.
What’s next? A quote doesnot make sense at all, I pick up my phone and try to call the interviewee to confirm it, and he isn’t answering. I try again, and again and again.
No answer! I rise from my chair, pace the floor to and fro, I stop, and pace again, I stop and kick a chair. I hit my darn toe. The ring of my phone doesnot let me curse the pain. I pick it up, great! I have the quote now.
I hop back to the keyboard and begin to type the last paragraph and get done with my article, finally!
Amazing how pain can unstick the words stuck in the middle of the night. My painful success! Happy and satisfied, I slip into my warm bed; I put off the lights and close my eyes.
Wait! I open it, “my editor better publish this article after all that I have gone through,” I close my eyes and fall into a deep sleep!
My note pad lies on my desk, containing one of the finest interviews I took and my pen which normally strikes off information used for my article has remained idle tonight. I curse the journalistic ethic of putting the punch line as the lead, getting the lead right needs a lot of brainstorming.
Somehow I always managed but tonight something is not right, I just can’t get the lead right. Am I missing the passion or is it the angered air because of some punks creating a scene outside my apartment?
Don’t be distracted, concentrate I tell myself.
Oh these words tonight just aren’t going anywhere, definitely not to the stories’ folder tomorrow morning.
After an hour of thinking, re-writing, cursing, smoking innumerous cigarettes, sending a few SMS, looking at some pictures, I get a 55 word lead typed.
Balls! A lead has to be about 45 words, I think again, re-write, smoke again (no SMS this time) and finally get a lead of 40 words.
Perfect! The flow is on, my fingers busy, my idle pen striking off the information used, smiling, there is no stopping me now.
Hell! Wait! I cannot figure out a word, damn, I should have asked the interviewee to slow down or I should have written it a bit slowly. I read the sentence over and over, trying to get the word. Damn! How I wish I could just presume it and go on. I figure it out after a while, voila, I get back with the flow.
What’s next? A quote doesnot make sense at all, I pick up my phone and try to call the interviewee to confirm it, and he isn’t answering. I try again, and again and again.
No answer! I rise from my chair, pace the floor to and fro, I stop, and pace again, I stop and kick a chair. I hit my darn toe. The ring of my phone doesnot let me curse the pain. I pick it up, great! I have the quote now.
I hop back to the keyboard and begin to type the last paragraph and get done with my article, finally!
Amazing how pain can unstick the words stuck in the middle of the night. My painful success! Happy and satisfied, I slip into my warm bed; I put off the lights and close my eyes.
Wait! I open it, “my editor better publish this article after all that I have gone through,” I close my eyes and fall into a deep sleep!
What is my existence to this world?
What is my existence to this world?
I am a subject to the realities of life
My realities seem to be just a dream
How so ever, I maybeThe way I perceive life to be
This is me
Often my past pulls me down
And then my future excites me
Then there is my present
Giving me an existence in this world
A reason to be in the worldNo matter how much I hate it
The biggest irony in this life
Is to smile when things are harsh on you
Just to make yourself believe
That a smile makes a day brighter
It does, for a while
But you just can’t go on smiling forever
My thoughts often remain within me
Subdued inside a person in me
Stubborn as can be but very volatile to
oMaking life be practical and not think positively
Aiming aimlessly too high
And not knowing where she is going
People can often be confusing
I aint no exception
It’s the confused life that makes people explicable
And yet people never try to look within
The outside aint just everything
A bigger world, a bigger life, a bigger person
Lives within every individual
Yet when I still question myself
What is my existence to this world?
I still get no answer
Because the answer is within myself
And until I don’t discover myself
I may never find out.
I am a subject to the realities of life
My realities seem to be just a dream
How so ever, I maybeThe way I perceive life to be
This is me
Often my past pulls me down
And then my future excites me
Then there is my present
Giving me an existence in this world
A reason to be in the worldNo matter how much I hate it
The biggest irony in this life
Is to smile when things are harsh on you
Just to make yourself believe
That a smile makes a day brighter
It does, for a while
But you just can’t go on smiling forever
My thoughts often remain within me
Subdued inside a person in me
Stubborn as can be but very volatile to
oMaking life be practical and not think positively
Aiming aimlessly too high
And not knowing where she is going
People can often be confusing
I aint no exception
It’s the confused life that makes people explicable
And yet people never try to look within
The outside aint just everything
A bigger world, a bigger life, a bigger person
Lives within every individual
Yet when I still question myself
What is my existence to this world?
I still get no answer
Because the answer is within myself
And until I don’t discover myself
I may never find out.
things have changed!
I was just casually talking to a friend of mine from high school on this article on “Sexual Revolution” I will be writing for the Bhutan Now Magazine (which must be forgotten by most people after its first issue). Don’t worry people, it is gonna make a comeback with the second issue soon.
Nevertheless, we landed up talking about how things have changed over the years. “Look at us,” was the justification to what our conversation was about.
True, “look at us,” just a few years ago, this us, were a bunch of teenagers only worried about how to miss school the next day or what western wear would be best suited to watch a basketball game at the swimming pool.
And “look at us,” today, in kira, sitting at Thimphu’s fine Art Café, sipping on coffee with our very own earned money and talking about work.
This was not us a few years ago.
A few years ago, we will be sitting in one of Hong Kong market’s shady restaurant, sipping on less milk- more water coffee and talking about boys. (Not that we don’t talk about boys anymore) This us would clean the house, help our mothers cook, help dad with gardening, wash the family car and be a good girl all week long just to go out dancing on Saturday at All Stars.
And today, we don’t even mention All Stars; it is rather embarrassing to even talk about it just randomly. Why? Because, today there are new discos to go to, with better music and more decent crowd.
Like I was telling my friend, All Stars was the place why we learnt to groom ourselves, dress properly and learnt to be the in-thing in town.Sitting outside the Zone, watching teenagers dressed in the latest trends often reminds me of myself when I was also a teenager.
Ofcourse, the skirts have become shorter and the tops a lot smaller.
Despite my age, I too try to be still in fashion and I have often dressed myself in the shortest of skirts and smallest of tops. Somehow, this teen fashion is only meant for teens as they look far better than I do.
We have come a long way now, we both agree on it.
It’s been a while, since we have got dressed before a week to the big day. It’s been a while since we have got butterfly in our stomach just looking at Mr. Happening pass by. It’s been a while since we have been grounded by our parents. At the age of 24, I know it’s not healthy to feel so old. “Life begins at 40,” we tell each other.
Yeap, it sure does, so if life actually begins at 40, we still have 16 more years to feel young.
Once another high school friend came and asked me if it’s normal to find a girl six years younger to him hot. I was like, “dude I have my eyes on my nephew’s friends, it sure is normal.”
So I look at my life before and now, I was once a girl with dreams, a girl with long hair ( I don’t know if this was necessary), a girl with a family, a girl without a driver’s license, a girl without a job and most of all just a girl.
Today I am someone who has fulfilled her dreams (well a larger part of it), a girl with a driver’s license and a car, a girl with a job and a girl who has become a woman. From a little girl who played in the dust, I have become a woman who doesnot play at all.
I have achieved what I have wanted and I have lost what I have wanted to keep. I have grown physically as well as mentally, become a woman from a girl.
And yet there are times, when I am still this little girl my father once used to know, the little girl who loves to play in the rain. The little girl who plays boxing with her three year old son and the little girl who still cries when her mother screams at her.
Nevertheless, we landed up talking about how things have changed over the years. “Look at us,” was the justification to what our conversation was about.
True, “look at us,” just a few years ago, this us, were a bunch of teenagers only worried about how to miss school the next day or what western wear would be best suited to watch a basketball game at the swimming pool.
And “look at us,” today, in kira, sitting at Thimphu’s fine Art Café, sipping on coffee with our very own earned money and talking about work.
This was not us a few years ago.
A few years ago, we will be sitting in one of Hong Kong market’s shady restaurant, sipping on less milk- more water coffee and talking about boys. (Not that we don’t talk about boys anymore) This us would clean the house, help our mothers cook, help dad with gardening, wash the family car and be a good girl all week long just to go out dancing on Saturday at All Stars.
And today, we don’t even mention All Stars; it is rather embarrassing to even talk about it just randomly. Why? Because, today there are new discos to go to, with better music and more decent crowd.
Like I was telling my friend, All Stars was the place why we learnt to groom ourselves, dress properly and learnt to be the in-thing in town.Sitting outside the Zone, watching teenagers dressed in the latest trends often reminds me of myself when I was also a teenager.
Ofcourse, the skirts have become shorter and the tops a lot smaller.
Despite my age, I too try to be still in fashion and I have often dressed myself in the shortest of skirts and smallest of tops. Somehow, this teen fashion is only meant for teens as they look far better than I do.
We have come a long way now, we both agree on it.
It’s been a while, since we have got dressed before a week to the big day. It’s been a while since we have got butterfly in our stomach just looking at Mr. Happening pass by. It’s been a while since we have been grounded by our parents. At the age of 24, I know it’s not healthy to feel so old. “Life begins at 40,” we tell each other.
Yeap, it sure does, so if life actually begins at 40, we still have 16 more years to feel young.
Once another high school friend came and asked me if it’s normal to find a girl six years younger to him hot. I was like, “dude I have my eyes on my nephew’s friends, it sure is normal.”
So I look at my life before and now, I was once a girl with dreams, a girl with long hair ( I don’t know if this was necessary), a girl with a family, a girl without a driver’s license, a girl without a job and most of all just a girl.
Today I am someone who has fulfilled her dreams (well a larger part of it), a girl with a driver’s license and a car, a girl with a job and a girl who has become a woman. From a little girl who played in the dust, I have become a woman who doesnot play at all.
I have achieved what I have wanted and I have lost what I have wanted to keep. I have grown physically as well as mentally, become a woman from a girl.
And yet there are times, when I am still this little girl my father once used to know, the little girl who loves to play in the rain. The little girl who plays boxing with her three year old son and the little girl who still cries when her mother screams at her.
The end...the beginning!
I asked for another shot of Vodka, another double and then another.
The day was what I would call today, “D-Day.”
It was the day which gave me the freedom to finally be the real me. It was a day I had waited for all the while.
A set of mixed feelings had overcome me, I was happy but I was sad as well.My best friend called it “a state of confusion which gave me happiness.” True were her words.
What I feared the most was that it happened when I wasn’t ready at all. It just came suddenly and one signature on the paper from me was gonna decide it all.
I sat there, with the paper infront of me and a pen in my hand, looking out my window, wondering if should sign it or not. I must have read it over and over again, looking for some flaws so that I could send it back, so that I would have more time to think about it. But everything was perfect, what ever was required was there, the only thing missing was my signature.
I started to think about the very first time we got into a relationship.
Were we ever in love? I wonder.
No we were never; only circumstances bonded us to this life time commitment which was soon to be over. We were never happy together? We were not the same? The only thing that kept us together for three years was the bond. Bondage we never really approved from our hearts.We were miserable in this bondage, and it wasn’t fair on him to force himself to be in this bondage and neither was it for me.
I always thought a fine person like him deserved much more. I felt guilty keeping him tied to a relationship which had no future. I always thought we could be friends for the future of the one person we both loved so much. But I was wrong; we were just screwing up each other’s lives.
At that moment, going our own ways would have made me the happiest.
I wished for everything to end, to have my own freedom, to have happiness in my life without having to associate with him at all.
The first sight of the paper made me truly smile after three years. I was happy that it had come to me finally. But then at the same time, a sudden fear made me realize I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready to face this world alone as a single mother.
I didn’t want my son to grow up saying, “my parents don’t live together anymore.” I didn’t want my son to grow up in a single mother’s home.I feared that my son would grow up to become an angry teenager, hating his parents for doing this to him. I feared that my son might suffer just because the parents wanted to be happy.
But then on the other hand, I look at how unhappy we both have been. I see myself crying everyday, wishing life turned out right for me. I see a person with a lot of self respect losing it because he got himself into a mess with me.
I could see my son growing up in a very unhealthy atmosphere at home.I close my eyes, take a deep breath and tell myself that if I don’t do this today, there will be three people who will be unhappy for a lifetime.
And if I do sign it, things will always take its shape into brining all three of us a better future if not a better present.
I finally sign it.
An end to another chapter of my life and a beginning to yet another completely new chapter.
The day was what I would call today, “D-Day.”
It was the day which gave me the freedom to finally be the real me. It was a day I had waited for all the while.
A set of mixed feelings had overcome me, I was happy but I was sad as well.My best friend called it “a state of confusion which gave me happiness.” True were her words.
What I feared the most was that it happened when I wasn’t ready at all. It just came suddenly and one signature on the paper from me was gonna decide it all.
I sat there, with the paper infront of me and a pen in my hand, looking out my window, wondering if should sign it or not. I must have read it over and over again, looking for some flaws so that I could send it back, so that I would have more time to think about it. But everything was perfect, what ever was required was there, the only thing missing was my signature.
I started to think about the very first time we got into a relationship.
Were we ever in love? I wonder.
No we were never; only circumstances bonded us to this life time commitment which was soon to be over. We were never happy together? We were not the same? The only thing that kept us together for three years was the bond. Bondage we never really approved from our hearts.We were miserable in this bondage, and it wasn’t fair on him to force himself to be in this bondage and neither was it for me.
I always thought a fine person like him deserved much more. I felt guilty keeping him tied to a relationship which had no future. I always thought we could be friends for the future of the one person we both loved so much. But I was wrong; we were just screwing up each other’s lives.
At that moment, going our own ways would have made me the happiest.
I wished for everything to end, to have my own freedom, to have happiness in my life without having to associate with him at all.
The first sight of the paper made me truly smile after three years. I was happy that it had come to me finally. But then at the same time, a sudden fear made me realize I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready to face this world alone as a single mother.
I didn’t want my son to grow up saying, “my parents don’t live together anymore.” I didn’t want my son to grow up in a single mother’s home.I feared that my son would grow up to become an angry teenager, hating his parents for doing this to him. I feared that my son might suffer just because the parents wanted to be happy.
But then on the other hand, I look at how unhappy we both have been. I see myself crying everyday, wishing life turned out right for me. I see a person with a lot of self respect losing it because he got himself into a mess with me.
I could see my son growing up in a very unhealthy atmosphere at home.I close my eyes, take a deep breath and tell myself that if I don’t do this today, there will be three people who will be unhappy for a lifetime.
And if I do sign it, things will always take its shape into brining all three of us a better future if not a better present.
I finally sign it.
An end to another chapter of my life and a beginning to yet another completely new chapter.
Sometimes!
Sometimes life can be cruel and unfair
Sometimes love isn’t just meant to be
Sometimes friends can’t be understoodSometimes family isn’t the only thing
Sometimes beauty is unreal
Sometimes god just seems to disappear
Sometimes truth is too harshSometimes lies are a great support
Sometimes death is beautiful
Sometimes a smile comes through tears
Sometimes a wish comes trueSometimes you just can’t find a home
Sometimes light brings darkness in your life
Sometimes the poor are happier than the rich
Sometimes nothing can be everything
Sometimes silence speaks a thousand words
Sometimes a heart is lostSometimes a doubt leads your way
Sometimes people can be animals
Sometimes faith misleads you
Sometimes science is a tragedy
Sometimes a believe ruins you foreve
rSometimes accidents seem so sweet
Sometimes jealousy can be warm
Sometimes words do not cost much
Sometimes joy is just being silly
Sometimes a tragedy brings a new life
Sometimes being young can be tiring
Sometimes comprehending is the only thing
Sometimes being candid is being misjudged
Sometimes peace is found at war
Sometimes ugly can be you and I
Sometimes music is the food for life
Sometimes character contributes to beauty
Sometimes beautiful old people are works of art
Sometimes the night starts a brand new day
Sometimes being mellow too can be tiring
Sometimes deception is the only truth
Sometimes nonsense makes a lot of sense
Sometimes a reason leads to enmity
Sometimes art can be fairer than the evening air
Sometimes wonderful can be strange
Sometimes a man is a torment of his soul
Sometimes a secret answers to many questions
Sometimes an answer is just not enough
Sometimes age is the level of learning
Sometimes a sword is more powerful then the pen
Sometimes seduction is falling in love
Sometimes virtue dwells together with beauty
Sometimes sadness can be momentary
Sometimes happiness causes the world to asunder
Sometimes loneliness is a man’s best friend
Sometimes a will cannot find its way
Sometimes listening is all you can do
Sometimes a promise brings people together
Sometimes memories are left behind
Sometimes a brand new day is the end of life
Sometimes a mistake wakes a nation
Sometimes perfection is dangerous
Sometimes drugs are the only remedy to live
Sometimes an ass can be an angel
Sometimes beginnings are the most difficult phase
Sometimes inevitability goes away
Sometimes ‘I love you’ can mean ‘fuck off’
Sometimes seeing a shooting star can be a bad omen
Sometimes a stranger can make a difference
Sometimes ice cold martini can suck
Sometimes even Romeo can cheat on Juliet
Sometimes men can cry
Sometimes a sad face can have a happy heart
Sometimes your future can be your past
Sometimes marriages can be broken in heaven
Sometimes a conspiracy can do good to the country
Sometimes power is the only weakness
Sometimes high school is the end of education
Sometimes diamonds are no better than shit
Sometimes there can be a god in a hooker
Sometimes long tresses down to the floor can be gorgeous
Sometimes hunger is the craving for life
Sometimes tears look better on a woman than make up
Sometimes a discovery might be too stale
Sometimes history will repeat it self again
Sometimes contributions can be overflowing
Sometimes emotions can be irritating
Sometimes destiny is not a matter of change
Sometimes there aint no key to success
Sometimes a fanatic can change his mind
Sometimes troubles are blessed
Sometimes a journey does not end where it begins
Sometimes money can grow on trees
Sometimes lunatics can make more sense than philosophers
Sometimes battered wives can kill
Sometimes determination can stop you there
Sometimes there can be no limitations to life
Sometimes pain can hit you and do no harm
Sometimes freedom means asking for death
Sometimes a baby can be the devil
Sometimes brothers can be the sister you never had
Sometimes you choose your own family
Sometimes foes can give you hope
Sometimes brotherhood has to let go
Sometimes fathers can be mothers
Sometimes night isn’t night
Sometimes day isn’t day
Sometimes friends aren’t friends
Sometimes love isn’t love
Sometimes life isn’t life
And sometimes I am not I
Sometimes love isn’t just meant to be
Sometimes friends can’t be understoodSometimes family isn’t the only thing
Sometimes beauty is unreal
Sometimes god just seems to disappear
Sometimes truth is too harshSometimes lies are a great support
Sometimes death is beautiful
Sometimes a smile comes through tears
Sometimes a wish comes trueSometimes you just can’t find a home
Sometimes light brings darkness in your life
Sometimes the poor are happier than the rich
Sometimes nothing can be everything
Sometimes silence speaks a thousand words
Sometimes a heart is lostSometimes a doubt leads your way
Sometimes people can be animals
Sometimes faith misleads you
Sometimes science is a tragedy
Sometimes a believe ruins you foreve
rSometimes accidents seem so sweet
Sometimes jealousy can be warm
Sometimes words do not cost much
Sometimes joy is just being silly
Sometimes a tragedy brings a new life
Sometimes being young can be tiring
Sometimes comprehending is the only thing
Sometimes being candid is being misjudged
Sometimes peace is found at war
Sometimes ugly can be you and I
Sometimes music is the food for life
Sometimes character contributes to beauty
Sometimes beautiful old people are works of art
Sometimes the night starts a brand new day
Sometimes being mellow too can be tiring
Sometimes deception is the only truth
Sometimes nonsense makes a lot of sense
Sometimes a reason leads to enmity
Sometimes art can be fairer than the evening air
Sometimes wonderful can be strange
Sometimes a man is a torment of his soul
Sometimes a secret answers to many questions
Sometimes an answer is just not enough
Sometimes age is the level of learning
Sometimes a sword is more powerful then the pen
Sometimes seduction is falling in love
Sometimes virtue dwells together with beauty
Sometimes sadness can be momentary
Sometimes happiness causes the world to asunder
Sometimes loneliness is a man’s best friend
Sometimes a will cannot find its way
Sometimes listening is all you can do
Sometimes a promise brings people together
Sometimes memories are left behind
Sometimes a brand new day is the end of life
Sometimes a mistake wakes a nation
Sometimes perfection is dangerous
Sometimes drugs are the only remedy to live
Sometimes an ass can be an angel
Sometimes beginnings are the most difficult phase
Sometimes inevitability goes away
Sometimes ‘I love you’ can mean ‘fuck off’
Sometimes seeing a shooting star can be a bad omen
Sometimes a stranger can make a difference
Sometimes ice cold martini can suck
Sometimes even Romeo can cheat on Juliet
Sometimes men can cry
Sometimes a sad face can have a happy heart
Sometimes your future can be your past
Sometimes marriages can be broken in heaven
Sometimes a conspiracy can do good to the country
Sometimes power is the only weakness
Sometimes high school is the end of education
Sometimes diamonds are no better than shit
Sometimes there can be a god in a hooker
Sometimes long tresses down to the floor can be gorgeous
Sometimes hunger is the craving for life
Sometimes tears look better on a woman than make up
Sometimes a discovery might be too stale
Sometimes history will repeat it self again
Sometimes contributions can be overflowing
Sometimes emotions can be irritating
Sometimes destiny is not a matter of change
Sometimes there aint no key to success
Sometimes a fanatic can change his mind
Sometimes troubles are blessed
Sometimes a journey does not end where it begins
Sometimes money can grow on trees
Sometimes lunatics can make more sense than philosophers
Sometimes battered wives can kill
Sometimes determination can stop you there
Sometimes there can be no limitations to life
Sometimes pain can hit you and do no harm
Sometimes freedom means asking for death
Sometimes a baby can be the devil
Sometimes brothers can be the sister you never had
Sometimes you choose your own family
Sometimes foes can give you hope
Sometimes brotherhood has to let go
Sometimes fathers can be mothers
Sometimes night isn’t night
Sometimes day isn’t day
Sometimes friends aren’t friends
Sometimes love isn’t love
Sometimes life isn’t life
And sometimes I am not I
Losing Parts of Myself!
A part of me wants to write and a part of me wants to draw. There is a part of me who wants to study environment and another who wants to be an anthropologist. Yet there is another part of me who wants to travel and at the same time a part who wants to remain just where I am.
There is a part of me who wants to love and there is a part of me who wants to be loved. But there is a larger part of me who wants to break free, live life on my own principles and grounds. To put myself into all parts will take a larger part of me.While trying to find happiness in myself by keeping other’s happy, I have lost the biggest part of me.
My whole life has been fragmented into these small parts, confusing me every new day. What I am today is a reflection of the broken part of me.I have fallen and never once risen to put bits and pieces of myself together again. “I will never be the same, I will never find the person within me that I have lost,” I often told my friends.
Yes, I do believe there is yet a whole life ahead of me and yes, I do believe things won’t be the same forever. Destiny and fate, yes, I do believe in them as well. “After every stormy day there is sunshine.”
Indeed!But what I don’t understand is how long the sun will take to shine on me. I have often tried to fix the broken parts of my life. I really did, believe me! While trying to fix the broken parts, somehow, I always couldn’t find a few parts of me who used to be determined, who used to be in love with life and the part that used to sing the joys of life. Without these parts I will never be me.
The missing parts of me which I cant seem to find makes me feel different in my own skin.Years have gone by and I have lost many parts of me as I journeyed through life. If only I took care of the parts I lost, I would still be me!
There is a part of me who wants to love and there is a part of me who wants to be loved. But there is a larger part of me who wants to break free, live life on my own principles and grounds. To put myself into all parts will take a larger part of me.While trying to find happiness in myself by keeping other’s happy, I have lost the biggest part of me.
My whole life has been fragmented into these small parts, confusing me every new day. What I am today is a reflection of the broken part of me.I have fallen and never once risen to put bits and pieces of myself together again. “I will never be the same, I will never find the person within me that I have lost,” I often told my friends.
Yes, I do believe there is yet a whole life ahead of me and yes, I do believe things won’t be the same forever. Destiny and fate, yes, I do believe in them as well. “After every stormy day there is sunshine.”
Indeed!But what I don’t understand is how long the sun will take to shine on me. I have often tried to fix the broken parts of my life. I really did, believe me! While trying to fix the broken parts, somehow, I always couldn’t find a few parts of me who used to be determined, who used to be in love with life and the part that used to sing the joys of life. Without these parts I will never be me.
The missing parts of me which I cant seem to find makes me feel different in my own skin.Years have gone by and I have lost many parts of me as I journeyed through life. If only I took care of the parts I lost, I would still be me!
Changing faces of motherhood!
“You are pregnant; you are on your third month.” The nurse’s voice teamed with these words pricked right through my heart.
“Please let this be a joke, this has to be a joke. I can’t be pregnant.” Words started to tread heavily in my head.
I was only 21 and still in college, still very young to become a mother. It wasn’t a dream for sure, although I would have given everything for it to be a dream. Unfortunately, it wasn’t!
I didn’t know how to react to it, had no idea what I was supposed to do. Was I supposed to cry, or laugh or jump into the river? I was a shocked, scared and confused mother-to-be. (FACE ONE)
I guess I didn’t realize it then, but motherhood started from the first time I heard I was pregnant. But I feared to bring the life inside me into this world. Of course I wasn’t ready. “But, what the heck? What’s meant to happen was bound to happen anyways!” (FACE TWO)
As I went on to my sixth month of motherhood I was still in college. My fashion statements become loose track pants and big T-shirts. Yes, I won’t deny it; I was trying to hide motherhood. I was shy, too shy of what people will find out (although I figured out later people had already known). (FACE THREE)
After my parents knew about it, I felt more secure. My whole life started to take a new meaning to motherhood. I started to smile at motherhood, started to love motherhood and finally felt comfortable with motherhood. (FACE FOUR)
The morning sickness seemed to last for ever, my stomach looked like it was going to burst open any moment, pigmentations had invaded my face and I can never forget the long minutes I took to stand up every time I sat down. The only clothes I could wear were the most hideous maternity dresses which made me feel very grandmother. The last few months of pregnancy was depressing, suffocating and annoying. (FACE FIVE)
The most important face of motherhood I missed was to feel the pain of giving birth (I am not talking about the face I saw on my friend while she was in labor). But I am talking about the pain full joy of motherhood. Due to some complications I had to have a cesarean and since it was an emergency one I felt no labor, no contraction and no pain. (FACE SIX)
Sagging tummy, the swelling boobs, the 30 extra kilos I had put on during pregnancy, all the morning sickness, my fashion statement of grandmother clothes, missing the wild night outs with friend and even having to leave college, everything seemed to fade away.None of these mattered to the joy I felt the moment I saw my son’s face.
All my miseries seemed to disappear when I put him on my lap and close to my heart. That was indeed a beautiful feeling! Somehow, I feel, the joy of having your first child will never be the same as the second, or third or fourth. My achievement was motherhood and my trophy was my son. (FACE SEVEN)
Then it was the crazy moments of learning to be a mother. Motherhood does come naturally but with that come a completely different life. From changing diapers to getting the right baby food to knitting the most hideous tiny sweaters to bathing them to putting them to sleep to watching them laugh to holding their little hands. Everything thus becomes an adventure. (FACE EIGHT)
Motherhood takes a completely different face as your child grows. There is never a moment that passes by when you have related something to you child, be it good or bad. Then there is this proud moment when your son can draw a perfect “A” and calls you “Ama.” There is no greater joy in knowing your child is learning and you are learning too. (FACE NINE)
Being a single mother is a completely different form of motherhood. Trying to be the father as well as the mother is indeed difficult. I often fear in being questioned by my son as to why he grew up in a single mother’s home. What will I say to him? But then yet again, there is a joy to being a single mother. From playing football with him to dressing up as a ‘ninja’ to fight him to teaching him how to pee, everything makes me a kid too. (FACE TEN)
Motherhood changes your life forever, it transforms you completely. It’s an experience of a life time which starts from the day you are pregnant to and goes on for ever. Motherhood itself is a new life!
“Discovering that with every child, your heart grows bigger and stronger - that there is no limit to how much or how many people you can love, even though at times you feel as though you could burst - you don't - you just love even more.” - Yasmin Le Bon
“Please let this be a joke, this has to be a joke. I can’t be pregnant.” Words started to tread heavily in my head.
I was only 21 and still in college, still very young to become a mother. It wasn’t a dream for sure, although I would have given everything for it to be a dream. Unfortunately, it wasn’t!
I didn’t know how to react to it, had no idea what I was supposed to do. Was I supposed to cry, or laugh or jump into the river? I was a shocked, scared and confused mother-to-be. (FACE ONE)
I guess I didn’t realize it then, but motherhood started from the first time I heard I was pregnant. But I feared to bring the life inside me into this world. Of course I wasn’t ready. “But, what the heck? What’s meant to happen was bound to happen anyways!” (FACE TWO)
As I went on to my sixth month of motherhood I was still in college. My fashion statements become loose track pants and big T-shirts. Yes, I won’t deny it; I was trying to hide motherhood. I was shy, too shy of what people will find out (although I figured out later people had already known). (FACE THREE)
After my parents knew about it, I felt more secure. My whole life started to take a new meaning to motherhood. I started to smile at motherhood, started to love motherhood and finally felt comfortable with motherhood. (FACE FOUR)
The morning sickness seemed to last for ever, my stomach looked like it was going to burst open any moment, pigmentations had invaded my face and I can never forget the long minutes I took to stand up every time I sat down. The only clothes I could wear were the most hideous maternity dresses which made me feel very grandmother. The last few months of pregnancy was depressing, suffocating and annoying. (FACE FIVE)
The most important face of motherhood I missed was to feel the pain of giving birth (I am not talking about the face I saw on my friend while she was in labor). But I am talking about the pain full joy of motherhood. Due to some complications I had to have a cesarean and since it was an emergency one I felt no labor, no contraction and no pain. (FACE SIX)
Sagging tummy, the swelling boobs, the 30 extra kilos I had put on during pregnancy, all the morning sickness, my fashion statement of grandmother clothes, missing the wild night outs with friend and even having to leave college, everything seemed to fade away.None of these mattered to the joy I felt the moment I saw my son’s face.
All my miseries seemed to disappear when I put him on my lap and close to my heart. That was indeed a beautiful feeling! Somehow, I feel, the joy of having your first child will never be the same as the second, or third or fourth. My achievement was motherhood and my trophy was my son. (FACE SEVEN)
Then it was the crazy moments of learning to be a mother. Motherhood does come naturally but with that come a completely different life. From changing diapers to getting the right baby food to knitting the most hideous tiny sweaters to bathing them to putting them to sleep to watching them laugh to holding their little hands. Everything thus becomes an adventure. (FACE EIGHT)
Motherhood takes a completely different face as your child grows. There is never a moment that passes by when you have related something to you child, be it good or bad. Then there is this proud moment when your son can draw a perfect “A” and calls you “Ama.” There is no greater joy in knowing your child is learning and you are learning too. (FACE NINE)
Being a single mother is a completely different form of motherhood. Trying to be the father as well as the mother is indeed difficult. I often fear in being questioned by my son as to why he grew up in a single mother’s home. What will I say to him? But then yet again, there is a joy to being a single mother. From playing football with him to dressing up as a ‘ninja’ to fight him to teaching him how to pee, everything makes me a kid too. (FACE TEN)
Motherhood changes your life forever, it transforms you completely. It’s an experience of a life time which starts from the day you are pregnant to and goes on for ever. Motherhood itself is a new life!
“Discovering that with every child, your heart grows bigger and stronger - that there is no limit to how much or how many people you can love, even though at times you feel as though you could burst - you don't - you just love even more.” - Yasmin Le Bon
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