And then in her deep conscience she pondered ,If anyone would carry her shopping bags as she went up and down the escalators , brawling to make them still and herself stiff.
She wondered , If those drugs were a magic bullet that everyone aspires or were they a summon to death coming prior.
She wondered if the nights will always be this fore saken. Will it always go the same way? Or will someone sing lullabies to her and swirl with her curls.
She wondered , the series of events , synchronized in her life. And imagined what it would be like to lead a normal life.
She wondered and wondered about life. But her wonders were just awful and never suggested something good about it. So oh! She did always wondered why did she wondered grief , if it rather could be glee.

What i really want is just to build up a home. Where we happily live away from all this competition and pollution. Away from this dark side. I want to live in the brighter one. I want to build a home where on the door there is this name plate with our name craved with the wood and then there are our handprints . The bigger one being his and the tiny one is mine. And then besides the door is the postbox. The postbox that has got its ***** a little loose with rust all over. But, Ah! The happiness it gives when in the middle of the pile comes your mom's letter. And you get so excited that you never close the box and run into open the envelope. Then as you enter there is this massive wall that has so much of charm in it. There are these tiny snapshots of when we went to our honeymoon in the islands , There is this grand photo of our marriage. There are portraits made by you. And everything inside of that walls gives so much of satisfaction , so much of happiness , that even if something happens to US , we have so much to miss , so much to remember , so much to cry and so much to laugh tooo. All that's lighted up with very pretty xmas lights. And then besides the wall there is the kitchen. Oh! How we wish that we could just shift our bed over there. Our kitchen- it will be like the most enchanting place. All sorts of junk. And the fridge- everything from ice cream to alcohol , from Chocolates to candies. It will be our happy place. We will cook together. We will dance together until the oven buzzes. And we will eat like no one's watching. Like we haven't eaten for days , like , like its the last pizza we will ever taste. We will **** together , we will make fun of each other , and at the end of the day we will laugh so much about all the super crazy stuff we did. We will sleep on our bed remembering everything. And i swear you look just the prettiest head when you're asleep. So i pretend to sleep because i know you are gazing at me. I wait till your snoring starts and it doesnt take a while to start , because you are so good at sleeping. And then i just stare you my love with the deepest love inmy eyes. Feeling your breathe against mine ; And even though we have come a long way together , i still don't believe the fact that i got someone like you , the fact that you are so pretty and you are so kind and gentle and sweet and caring and the qualities they can never be described fully. So i just lay down there kiss you on your head and sleep with me wrapped around your arms.
Not every story has to have drama , some are just real life stories.

I remember those days ,
My dear mom would make my braids ,
And i would sleep on my daddy's lap.
They would sing me lullabies ,
As i laid among them.
And we gained perfect lucidity.
I remember all those mood swings ,
The perfect fact about them being ,
Every fellow would still captivate me.
And How could i forget that spark that went through the eyes of mine?
Curious to know about the world.
The antiquity, The sagas.
How i dreamed that it was a prepossessing place.
But , but now that i have known what the world actually exhibits.
I no longer yearn to know anything else.
The past definitely has proved to be a dismay.
I wish that everybody had heart of a child ,
I wish that everyone could be decent without being fake.
That maybe life could be sober again.
Maybe i could be uncanny but free , and no one will judge me.
Maybe i could be a free bird and gaze and the world as i fly.
Maybe there should be no bars of restrictions.
That i could be passionate and inquisitive forever.
Oh! I so wish to be a child again. And live forever the life of a child.❤
#nostalgia

Let me take you ,
Into my fathomless fantasy.
Let me uncover , What it feels like to be the one to love.
I see our bodies pressed against each other.
Fragrances binded into one.
Lips being sober.
Adrenaline pumping it's pace over .
I sense your heartbeat against mine
And I hear everything , From the whispers to the moans and the sound of your breathe .
You loose sweat , you cry , you sleep , you care , and you love tooo?
I lay confused . I thought you did not exist for real. I thought you were made of metaphors.

Misleading. Thats what life is , these days.
She doesnt know the destination ,
She cant find the path familiar.
Usually , she knew every piece of it.
As if it were a jigsaw puzzle and the answers lied in her heart.
They told her - '  Follow your heart , dreams and all.'
It doesn't beat with passion anymore , her heart i mean.
She cant recognize the thumping of her heart.
It beats faster now ,
Though she wonders why she doesnt feel alive.
Like the five month old message ,
Lying beneath the drafts of your mails.
Adressed to that one broken love ,
Her emotions are equivalent to that now.
With the real colors , laid unstructured ,
In the hope of a revival.
And as she gets herself to sleep ,
Trying to keep up with all those body atoms,
She wonders if the adrenaline will keep pacing forth , If its usual now?
She assumes if it accumulates ?
The thought is provoking and intimidating at the same time.
But what if the secretion will burst her up?
She finds the thought relaxing.
She is happy now.
She hopes that the next sun would be the last her eyes gets to meet.
She sleeps now.

Like 6 digits on the odometre, makes the car a better one.
Isnt that the greatest revolution of all, For something to be good and then more good?
What if we follow this concept with women?
The times she has opened her legs , For different men ,
So as to impose her scars .
For being brave enough
For being stupid enough.
For reliving the pain and the breathes and fragrances again and again.
Then wondering in the back of her head if they all smell the same?
Its one of those nights, when she is solitary with herself ,
Curled within her , within her.
Only the thoughts ponder with her.
Regretting the bad decisions
For being timid enough , To let them all in;
She doesnt know though,
She has been macho enough ,
To spread her parts ,
To be able to give it all.
To be able to move out in the snow , Knowing she owned the fire place.
Some woman are petrified enough to sit in the warmth forever , without knowing the weather outside the walls , the world i mean.
She has been resourceful enough ,
She has spread joy enough.
She has been joyful enough.
She has given more than enough though.