To the ones who are imperfect,

If anyone perfect is reading this please stop reading and go back to your amazing life. Yup life has to be amazing if you are perfect. Well if it's not that amazing read on maybe you can relate to some of it.
Nobody is perfect. Everyone has his or her own imperfections. But is life just meant to be spent on trying to be what you are not?
Good grades, dream college, well paid job, excellent personality with a good social circle and of course a beautiful and loving wife. PERFECT?
Basically someone who has excelled in all possible fields of his concern. This type of a guy would be perfect right? This is the perfection that everyone tries to achieve. Oh wait! I should say the society tries to make us achieve.
But what if someone was to step outside the circle? What if someone doesn't try to achieve this ideology of perfection?

A person with low grades or someone who isn't in a good college or doing a job he loves but pays less is called incapable or incompetent. Why? Because he didn't achieve that mark of excellence or because he didn't try to achieve it.
That's it, everyone around you starts to advice you, criticise you and breaks you to a point you can't handle anymore.
They blame you for not being perfect.
And to top it all you feel helpless and trapped.

It's impossible for people to not judge you but it is up to you to be affected by their judgement.

Your imperfections make you unique. You may have bad grades or end up in a low paid job but there is something in you that makes you special. But you know what those who criticise you just can't see it.
Make sure that you perfect that unique thing about you. Cherish it and make sure that someday the people who criticised you can only see that perfection. Maybe you yet haven't found your speciality but the day you will maybe even 10 years later will be when you will realise that YOU ARE PERFECT THE WAY YOU ARE.

P.s: There may be many out there who feel they are emotionally and mentally strong but still may fall prey to those who criticise you. To all of them, what you think about yourself matters ​the most, be yourself and shine so that world is forced to look at you!

Here in the desert
it's been raining
on and off
            for days
making the succulents and cacti
glisten with wetness
their thick skin sparkles
and catches nature's ironic eye
flowers and plants shine
so much better in the half-grey
Here in the prehistoric depths
Of rocky whitewash and silt
             flash floods rush through
flushing out all guilt
         And inside
a raging storm commences
and I feel so blessed
to be a part of this celebration
my lungs expanding in my chest
I breathe in deep
that fresh purity of air
let it cleanse right through me
from my toes up to my hair
It rushes in my body
taking no prisoners in its force
flows through every vein
cleansing poisons in its course
its power flows into me
washing out this stubborn pain
Turning the confusion
                     into clarity again
From inside subconscious thoughts
           realization thunders
rinsing from my mind
                 the emotional strain
and replacing it with euphoric wonders
Come, my raging desert tempest
Bathe me
       penetrate me with wet
restore and purify
my being
take over and disinfect
let me feel my own strength
until it pours out from my cells
into the space inside my heart
where love and lust still dwell
My tears mingle with the sweet drops
                as I fling arms open to the sky
releasing strikes of lightening
for every word I cry
as I summon, pray for lightness
mixed with the sturdiness of earth
Let joy rise up and bubble
within my being
as rebirth

They use soft gentle tones,
as if the scream of already known truth
is feared to burst my eardrums
and shatter my seemingly delicate china glass
of a soul.
I am not as broken as they think I am.
My mind may be frayed in places but
never do the patches become too worn and the seams
unravel and burst against my will.
They can throw all their unintelligent thoughts at me
and mistaken my non-catching for clumsiness.
But I have myself by my side and that is all that is needed.
Pity is a misguide and a sentence of the weak,
and I know I am better.
They are wrong, and
I am strong.

And now
It is time
To get to know myself.

What a frightening
Wonderful
Thing.

You deserve every flower.

The ones that people worked to create.

And the ones that people had no part in.

When the sun gets low,
The city starts to glow.
Walk to the tallest point,
And roll up a joint.

Inhale exhale
Watch the stars sail.
Vivid images above the atmosphere
Only then do things seem clear.

Good vibes no stress,
Don't worry about the progress of your success.
Put on a good tune,
And sing as if your howling at the moon.

Dance as if your feet are on fire
Then rest and watch the sky turn sapphire.
Don't contemplate on what you haven't done.
Just live your life, time waits for no one.

i cannot be your anti depressant.
i cannot transform into a warm blanket
every time you feel the cold.
i cannot seep into your veins and rest
underneath your scarred skin.
not all promises can be kept and
i am only trying to speak the truth.
try to understand i have my own demons to tame.

don't make your happiness so dependent
on my rise out of bed in the morning.
don't rely so much on this frail veiled soul
to mend each broken piece of yours
while i'm still only trying to kick myself out
of my own shark infested seas.
the speaking of pure fantasy only assures me,
i will soon be suffocated by your adding of more water.

you cannot intend on making me your hero.
you cannot be fixed by these clumsy hands that
can't always be there in time to hold yours.
so please. i am only human.
you have to save yourself.
because i can never be your anti depressant.

i cannot do.
make do i cannot.
to understand what makes only my surroundings happy.
what wrong keeps returning inside of me to leave me out?
envy those lucky and careless, i do, for i cannot
do no more than merely wish for a smile to spread,
not the numbness weighing down my chest, flooding the gateways of my veins with its poison like wet black paint.
i do not want to make this all i know;
its familiarity scares me.
what am i missing out on?
when sad longing eyes scan from the corner
over the strangers i do irritate myself seeing,
the fault in isolating myself is clear.
finding too many flaws and reasons to
throw away the key of eternal joy.
why do i do this to myself, thinking about
how upsetting it is that i find it sad how
i am not alive only in dreams.
my mind begs me to stop all this from happening.
it needs a get out jail card, but unfortunately these types
do not come for free.
because i cannot always feel what others feel.
i am cast out from having too much fun,
and jealousy accomplishes so little.
but indulge in too much pity i refuse.
the universe doesn't care about anyone
it does not keep promises for anyone.
believing in its reliability to keep you feeling
wanted, and with purpose and worth
is not worth it.
it does not stop for anyone
especially not to make sure i am feeling okay
on this gloomy monday morning.
i would rather be anywhere else.