5.17.2012

Pandora's Box


Isn't it awfully funny when you get that sadness deep in your heart for no apparent reason? Isn't it hilarious when in a few minutes you can go from being ok to being miserable? And isn't it extremely hilarious that your scumbag brain won't even allow you to cry though you're crawled up in a ball on your bed? I mean really what better way to end the day?

It's a big void. Like stepping into a black hole. It eats all you give and is never placated. Nothing soothes you tattered soul. Not writing this blog, not listening to your favourite songs, not even your little soft toy-like puppy. And when you think it’s too much, then and only then, the vortex of memories comes. And not one by one, no. They seem not to have learnt what staying in line means. Instead it’s a blast to the past, a blitz in your brain, enough to leave you vegetable, not enough to numb you.

And my brain face palm’s itself in disappointment. My heart sighs as it steadies itself for yet another long night, as the world around me turns black and I lay on my bed waiting for sleep.

Horrible unexplained emptiness. Loneliness when there are people who love you. Despair when you have everything. Anger toward yourself for being so stupid. Emotions. A lidless Pandora’s Box. And just a pinch of hope that tomorrow will be a better day.

I'm left rocking myself to and fro on my bed, a tearless face, an aching heart, a lost soul.


5.16.2012

wanderlust


I want to travel the world.
I want to backpack around Europe.
I want to go on a road trip with my friends in America.
I want to grab a plane to an unknown destination.
I want to go somewhere where Autumn is really Fall so that I can step and hear the red crunching leaves under my feet.
I want to make a snow angel.
I want to stand under the Eiffel tower and have coffee and a bagel.
I want to start each year in a different city.
I want to go to New York, Connecticut, Los Angeles, Broadway, San Francisco, Chicago, Boston.
I want to walk in Central Park.
I want to go to London and see the Peter Pan statue.
I want to go to Africa and spend some time with each of the different tribes.
I want to photograph strangers from all over the world and put them on my wall.
I want to make friends with other wanderers with whom I'll never be in touch.
I want to photograph a war.
I want to sleep under the stars.
I want to eat spaghetti in Italy and taste 'vino' in the vineyards in Tuscany.
I want to have 'fromage' in France.
I want to go to Starbucks.
I want to visit a forgotten country in America and sit in the yet-to-be-remodelled cafeteria and write a book.
I want to wander.
I want to leave this place and come back only when I've had enough. Probably never.