Tuesday, April 22, 2014

By the list

Hey there!
 I decided to try something new. Let me know your thoughts on it. Enjoy!


To go by the list. She said
By the list you must go
Anything that escapes the beauty of my pen does not deserve acknowledgement
For years I have secretly penned the inner workings of my mind
Shutting it when a stranger comes into sight
For they do not have to know the journey of my mind

Or the confusion that lay in it
So by my list I go
Scribbling my dealings for the next day
That's not even yet in sight
But as my fidgety hands will have it,
Fuelled with its own nervousness,
And consumed with the pleasures of ticking and crossing off any list

ONE
I tucked in my duvet nicely today


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Sunday, April 20, 2014

Here's to the INTJ Personality type

When I look at the picture below, I'm reminded of myself and of how awkwardly I stand in front of the class to give a presentation. Hands rubbing off each other as if I just newly discovered something awesome. Legs either crossed together creating an awkward stance or fused tightly together bringing about unnecessary sweating and stickiness.


            "Oh the beauty of being an introvert I whisper to myself" Always being in my head even when I'm beside someone that I should be having a chit chat with. To give you a clearer picture, on my way to school, I sometimes choose bus time slots so that I can prevent any awkward chit chats. My excuse is that I love to have a good chit chat with myself in the morning but deep down I know chatting just makes me way too uncomfortable because instead of investing myself fully in the conversation, I'm constantly in my head.  So there you have the truth. The fears of every introvert.


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Here's to the crazy ones

Here's to the crazy ones that make you scoot over almost tumbling on your way to the next seat. Your next exact reaction is to shield your face and eyes from meeting theirs. You'll be in a hell load of mess if that happens.

              The next day you spot them again in the subway. This time, they are your next door neighbour. They prefer not to let you have the peace and quiet you need to regain your confidence or even your knowledge of words.
            "Hey there" He says with his mouth drooling with saliva.
            "H-e-y" You say nervously watching him as he rummages and scratches his groins ferociously.
He grins at you then takes a sniff at it exhaling with relief. You hear the announcement for the next stop  knowing it isn't yours, you squeeze your way through for freedom. Out there you let out a sigh of relief. It was a thousand times worth the abruptness.

                       Happy Easter yall.
                                                              

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Saturday, April 19, 2014

Here's to ridiculousness

             I can't possibly be the only person that gets a tad appalled when I see someone in their late twenties or early thirties with a skateboard.

Just the other day while on the subway home. I saw a plump scruffy looking man with a skateboard. He had tattoos, his hair flying in all manner of directions, oversized clothes, dirty looking sneakers and possibly reeking of alcohol and body sweat. I eyed him while he happily got off the train.
            It was after he got off that I fell into deep thoughts again. I wondered what fascinated men from the western world with skateboards. I have been living here for five years and I still can't wrap my head around why.


I always thought they'll grow out of this but each time the sun comes to pay respect to us in June, I am always proven wrong. Why?!!

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No way out

It is four cornered
Tightly sealed and yet slightly loosed
Letting the air flush in
Bringing in with it unpleasant odour of struggle...
Held bound with chains
Running east and west
Rolling like stones without directions
Scattered around and kicked once more
By nonchalant passer-by
Watching with curiosity as their eyes bulge out
And it still trails
But all starring like a sight to see
Yet no one puts a foot forward
To halt as they glide happily
Down the hilly mountains
But they have their hungry legs kicking daily
Trapping the pebbles in its four corners
And they turn away cheerfully
Because that is where the joy lies
When they become trapped
And stationary
They become controlled
As when their legs come over it again
It forces movement and to whatsoever direction
They can conjure easily
Because to the pebbles,
They are words they hearken to
But really it was just a cycle




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Friday, April 18, 2014

Here's to something absurd

       Some of my friends at school think I have gone nuts because I have tons of pictures on my phone and never seem to post any on social media. Anytime they snatch my phone away from my hands. I prepare myself for the puzzled look that will soon surface. I start by saying even without being asked. "I know. I just love documenting things. Its for memory sake" They become speechless for awhile and then say you should really get Instagram. I laugh dryly while responding "I already have one"


They do not try to press on further but their faces give away their thoughts. They have their eyebrows raised to denote a questioning look, mouth bent to the sides almost as if they are mumbling words from another planet. Geez! I can already tell what they are thinking. Not that I mind but it will be nice if they asked why I did so.
        So I pretend like I don't know what is happening as I engross myself in my phone. Well this are my thoughts, if you'll rather have your eyebrows raised without considering it necessary to inquire of the reason, I do not in anyway owe you an explanation.

                                                   Has anyone experienced the same thing?

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Saturday, March 29, 2014

Wilting flowers

          She starred down at the cuts, wounds and the blood that was dripping from her battered body, looking as if her mouth would fly open to recite her last prayers and her head, to lie lifelessly on the cold floor. She remained on the floor crawling with the tip of her dress sticking out and leaving traces of blood behind. Her cloth was drained in her blood and had become lucid because of the sweat that came so profusely, gluing her strap to her dark chocolate skin. 
          She sat there paying no attention to her environment but plastered her shaky hands to her face, to wipe away tears that had no end to it. Her eyes were cherry red and had become swollen from the tears that filled her weary eyes. She could barely move, still staggering but managed to lift herself with the support she got from dainty furniture's that were evenly spread along the corners of the room. She made her way to the washroom, pushing the door forcefully and starring at the room strangely as if her eyes caught an usual sight all buried within the four corners of the room. 
          She let go of her already stained linen dress, letting it fall quietly to the cold floor, before sticking out her tiny toes that had been trapped in the dress. She gave out a sigh that ushered in tears from her eyes, running its way through her cheeks, where its effects became a little more apparent with the white marks it left behind. She placed her hands on her mouth forcing herself to hold back tears before allowing her misty eyes to fall on her naked self as she scrutinized her body with open gaze.

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Saturday, February 8, 2014

Not all guys have had girlfriends

         Today I heard the most astounding news and for some reason, I could not get a hold of myself.

Benedict Cumberbatch bears close resemblance with Alex. Well except for those eyes. 
It all happened on a dreary Friday night at the library. My mind was filled with worries. I needed to come up with a concept for my radio ad campaign. I was running out of ideas because my professor had bored into my head that I needed to resist the usual if I wanted my ad campaign to standout from the clutter.

            I had my face buried in my work. I was doing absolutely fine until my friend came around. She wanted to converse while I on the other hand, craved for an idea to surface soon. I was not sure what to do so I listened while trying my best not to give my thoughts away. It was a bigger task than I realized. She could tell I was the least interested in what she was saying. I know. There is just something about my facial expression that always seem to betray me no matter how hard I try to conceal my thoughts. And so she decided to turn to her next victim. A young man, blonde hair, fairly muscular and with descent looks that made any girl turn for a minute. He was definitely good looking but the wow factor needed to capture any girl's attention for an endless amount time, was out of the equation.


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Saturday, January 11, 2014

A different Look at Creativity

           When I think about creativity, I think of it in subjective terms because of the variations attributed to the term by a wide range of people. To prove this, I'd love to conduct an interview on the streets of North York Toronto. This way, I would have substantial evidence to justify my claim.
         But yeah I have been contemplating on this topic for over a year now, pulling my hair out, rocking my chair, possibly throwing tantrums because of the insatiable desire to gather a new approach on this topic. I used to think of creativity in the most simplistic form which if you ask me, is the ability to create something new from the scratch. This, I believed only to be creativity and any other thing that might take a similar course to this, is only a disguise of the original. I believed that an idea had to be born fresh, anew before presented boldly to people as a creative idea that exhibits authenticity. Hence when people deviated from this, I would usually point a finger at them and say they lacked creativity, insight and the ability to think.
          Its no wonder why I was not the least surprised when I came across the artwork below. As like many others, all I could see was a fish. I had totally ignored the richness of the materials used for the composition of such a great artwork.

 


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Thursday, January 2, 2014

I Like (Love) You

          I like to think of love in a very quaint manner. This should not come to you as a surprise since I love historical fictions. Well I have never mentioned that before but it should be quite obvious since I tend to employ Old English in most stories I write. I find that in most historical fictions that I have read, a lengthy amount of time is devoted to the duke (or whoever the main character is) trying to woo his damsel. He spoils her with flowers which she sniffs on receiving it, a diamond ring and maybe a silk dress.
        Albeit, when I talk about being old fashioned, I am referring to something entirely different. A step away from the norm. Something that eliminates the use of "thou" and does not take into account the existence of letter writing between lovers. At least that's the picture painted to me when I am all curled up reading such books. I am in no way against this. I thought I should say that just in case I came across that way. Since I have no right to say to one use your money this way or to another, that's a stupid move.


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