Points Of Change

The authors riting this as he sits on his bed in the darkness in his room, his face lit by the light of the lappy. The reason he writes is because after a long time, indeed it seems like decades has he realised that he doesnt write for others to read, but for himself to breath.As he writes it, he takes a break to get up and switch on the light(the darkness was getting to him). Also, he takes out a moment to tell the grim reaperess that he loves her, its important to him that she knows.Her being there, now, at this moment in his life, it means the world to him, to have her with him, to have someone who understands him, who loves him, it means the world to him.Today he's been a fool, not a normal one, not a massive one, nor a dumb one, but a fool nonetheless, a depressed fool.
There are times when the author is a fool like this, when he forgets what some people mean to him, when he thinks of only himself, of his problems, his troubles and his heart and this is when he pushes them away, all of them, creating barriers, creating walls around himself. Even though he regrets it all later, at that moment he doesnt feel, he doesnt see, but later he crawls back to them, back to them on his knees and they still take him back, much like you people too, you always still come to me, even though i come and go and never tell when i go, and this is what makes the author realize that how important you all are, how important those people are, how very very important she is and all he can do is thank you all. Its inadequate i know, but thats all he can do, so sincerely, lovingly I THANK YOU ALL!. Each and every single one of you, every single special person in my life, and i dont promise that i wont be a fool again, nor do i promise that i'l never go away again. But, i do promise, i'l be back always, as long as you take me back, i'l always keep coming back.
The author would like to thank Blackmyst3ry, Flowie, Arty, BK, Krit, Hot fudge and every other person who has stood by this blog. He wishes you all feel good after reading this, and that Arty continues to be funny and that all of you are happy.
*Big Hugzzzz to everyone

Cry

I have seen pain,
I have stood alone in the rain.
I have seen a happy man cry,
All a part of this one big lie.

Some say, somethings not right,
Others say im out of my mind.
And yet I alone will know whats right,
A lucky one to escape these binds.

when alone, in my heart, I sing,
sometimes this madness is hard to believe.
Rite now i wanna go tra la la ling ling,
for tonight i'l think of you as im sleeping





sorry for bearing with this one, one of the crappiest poems by the author.......

Sillyness

I sit here and silently write,
to try and ease my troubled mind.
Sitting alone, with my thoughts to fight,
A little bored, as my mind i grind.

I wish to dance and sing and sway,
A wish to walk on an unpaved way.
To take a knife and beat a sword,
to find the needle in a rampaging herd.

I think of her sitting here,
I wish i could bite her ear.
My brothers sleeping on my side of the bed,
im thinking how large is his head.

Im talking to a friend who's sweet,
yet she must work, just so she may eat.
They took my phone and put it to charge,
I wish my stupid house had a garage.

These silly things dance through my head,
But, "Silly is sweet" i always said.
So now i prance about the house,
while they sleep, I chase an imaginary mouse.

Riveries of thoughts in the bus

I laugh out loud in my head,
Smiling out in vain.
With open eyes i feel so dead,
I poke myself to feel the pain.

To the world i am insane,
And yet this troubled mind is so sane.
Far away in my thoughts i seem,
My eyes feel vacant of their gleam.

Sitting here i think of her as i sway,
So close to me, yet so far away.
Silently i pray i was dead,
Just so i could fly away to her.

The Good Life

Loud noises and unclear voices,
Silently they sail over my head.
I see their laughing faces,
I wonder what was said.

My hands are cold,
My feet feel so numbed.
I listen to the singers sing,
The words continue to be said, I can't even hear my phone ring.

I try to speak, to be heard,
An unknown part of this crazy herd.
Is it me? or is it luck?,
Why all alone, so stuck?

Wait for me little longer

scattered clouds littering the sky,
watching, unmoving, as the world passes by.
with open wings, flitting through the clouds i fly,
Far above this world of deceit, an unending lie.

I fight against these invisible hands of time,
to let go of me, to let me be who i am.
these chains are clamped hard and strong,
yet there is nothing that can withstand a heart felt song.

I think of you and the chains do snap,
your beautiful eyes breaking me away from this trap.
a want to hold you in my arms,
to gently lay with you in the moonlit sands.

i fly faster at the moon, impatient to be with you,
after all the moon has got something to do with you.
just wait for me a little longer love,
Don't let go as of yet, we'll dance yet again in our cove.

The Tale Of The Reaper

The author has decided to go on a new literary adventure and has decided to write a story. He was inspired by the writings of three great writers, Flo, Arty and Blackmystery . So thanks to them, here he is, writing about the creation of the grim reaper. Hope it is entertaining to all the readers, please be generous with your comments. Criticism is most appreciated.(Yes the author is some what a gentleman.)


The Tale Of The Grim Reaper

The winds raged across the gentle green - blue surface of
his beloved planet, he had made it with such care, such
love. It had brought him great joy, the only creation of
his, that he had bestowed life upon.It had put a smile on
his ageless face for years. Even though time did not
affect him, the smile was something rare to behold for
one such as I. Yet we must go on, for this tale is not
about him or me, nor so much of the green blue planet
called earth, the planet of life, home of the humans.This
tale, this lore i tell, is of he, the one who ends all
life, the silent collector of souls.Now we go back to our
story, in the time before the creation of the infamous
Grim Reaper.

This indeed was the reason that bothered the creator as
he sat upon his pedestal, right in the centre of his
creation, the beautiful universe, a fine colage of
myraiding colors.A frown creased his ever gentle face, it
disturbed me to see him this way, for it had indeed been
a while since the creator had done anything but smile as
he had watched over his creations.As i watched he absent
mindedly knocked over a vase, causing rain to pour down
on earth, it often amused me as to how clumsy he could
be. what with being the creator of all things, one
expected something better, but still , i could not think
of any other man or immortal that could do what he the
creator did better than the being himself. His unfocused
eyes seemed, at that moment to find me standing beside
him, a sigh escaped his lips."My friend" he said to me,"I
know it worries you to see me so, but this problem i
face, it eats at me"."Then share it with me and we may
come upon a solution"i said to him as i walked upto his
pedestal."Aye, maybe that is indeed what i shall do"he
said with another sigh,"The matter my friend of countless
ages, is relating to earth, you are surely aware of my
love for the planet. The thing that worries me is bought
about by my own lack of clear thinking"I looked at him
with a little unease, he was not one to regret things.
This i believe more than anything made me want to hear
him out and thus i listened to him as he went on.

Responsibility

Responsibility, the word often used by mothers or even adults in general and also the one of the many words which creep teenagers out. Today the author would like at pick at the term, the concept of responsibility.(Yes, he was inspired to write about it because he got one of those 'oh so dreaded' lectures about it.) Responsibility is often confused with maturity, now the author would like to emphasize that they are completely two very different things.(No, not only because of their spellings, but also because of their meanings!) As far as maturity goes, it is more or less the act of understanding your duties and also what is wrong and right in life. Maturity does not, i repeat, it does NOT dump itself upon you. Whereas on the other hand, our dear old friend responsibility, at some point of time in every ones life's, decides to dump itself on them.(Yes the fact that it also help shape their lives is important.) Now as is widely believed, people tend to think that children do not have any responsibilities,(By children, the author also means teenagers, so kindly do not sue him for not making a separate mention). Children and teenagers in all their innocence (And not so much innocence, in the case of teenagers), still do shoulder responsibility. Lets for instance take the life of a school going kid, it is indeed full of responsibilities, the poor child has the often maddening responsibility of doing his homework(The author agrees that homework sounds like a trivial thing, but he would also like to point out that it is children we are talking about). Similarly in the case of teenagers, their responsibility is to learn the ropes of life and do well in their studies so as to have a good future.(Yes, it also partly means that they need to be more understanding towards their parents.).But, now we come to the point where adults seem to have a distorted view of things, according to most of the so called grown up and more responsible part of the population, being responsible means that a person should stop having fun in life and forever be bogged down by things which should not be thought on for too long. Now the author for one has a different view about responsibility, yes he agrees that it is essential to life, but also he believes that responsibility can never be completely full filled until you now what the other form of life is like too. Yes, be serious when you have too, be all responsible, but have fun while doing it too, make sure you know that you can laugh and make others laugh as well. responsibility is a part of life, not life a part of responsibility.
Moral of the essay - the author wants you to always have fun in life, come what may!

Singers Of The Song

i lift my hands up and try to pray,
falling down on my knees in vain.
This is all you can do they say,
so easy it flows, they dont feel the pain.

I see you in so many tubes,
fear grips my heart and holds it tight.
will you awaken from this bed of lies?
For you alone i carry on this fight.

Leave them all and come to me,
i wait with arms opened wide.
dont you feel? dont u see?
slowly you and i shall be drowned in their sea.

I wait here to pull you back to shore,
pull you back to where you belong.
not all are lies in legend and lore,
together we shall once again sing the true song.


The author feels like coming back to blogging again so holler up ppl and im coming back to town ;)

Emoness

Firstly the author would like to apologize to all the readers for not posting for so long, he was lost somewhere in his own mind (No he does not have a mind map!). The author would like to thank you all for still sticking to his blog even through its thick and thin. He would also like to take this opportunity to wish that all you readers have a nice day. =)

The author would like to touch on this very controversial topic of emo people, or as they are not so popularly known, emotional people. Being one of them, he would like to clarify certain misconceptions about emo people(No he is not crying or moping while writing this!!). Emo people are just people who have a little less control over their emotions, this is not something they like or have a choice over, mostly some incident in their lives makes them forget what it is to be like everyone else, they tend to start thinking a lot more deeply and profoundly(Yes the poems are a result of these emotions!). The stereotypes of being emo according to people is that emo people cry a lot, wear black all the time, always want to die, never take interest in life, never reveal their emotions and that they r dumb and sissy like. There are indeed people like these, but they are not emo's, we emo people are like other people too. We have emotions which are NOT dead!(The author would like to apologize for being a little pissed) Emo people may indeed like the concept of death and the color black, but that is usually due to the fact that they have been through some form of tragedy in their lives. It does not give any other person any right to make fun of us(Yes, the us refers to the author and the emo people). All of us have our flaws in life, and all that is wrong with emo people is that they have uncontrollable emotions. It is not so hard to be sensitive to other peoples emotions or feelings. The author would like to request the reader to be a little more sensitive to an emo person the next time they come across one.
Right now the author would like to stop writing.
He wishes that you all have a great day and keep smiling. =)