Nightmare.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a little white,

A little speck of light,

Shining through the dark,

Waiting for me to fall apart.

So she can come and save me,

And hold me in her arms,

And tell me I'm not lonely,

I'll never be alone,

So I chase after it,

In the dead of the night,

The angel never sees me,

As I run after her.

Wait for me, I'll come too,

Never mind that it's two,

Dawn is breaking and if it's later than this,

I will fall into this endless abyss.

She should have reached out for me,

Flown me into paradise,

But she turned and looked at me,

Breaking from her disguise.

Razor-sharp claws, and horn-like teeth,

Scowling and screaming, she lunges at me.

Kicks, cries, screams all die,

As she breaks me.

Last thing I remember before she puts me down,

She looks at me and smiles as I frown.

Don't you know, she says

I'm just the beginning of your end.

She is, she is, I think.

I know exactly what she is too.

She is my most beautiful dream,

My worst nightmare come true.

Boom

Why is it wrong
To hope that this love we have lasts a little longer than forever?
Why is it wrong
To not be contented with a few smiles and plenty quarrels?
Why is it wrong
To seek more than just a pretty cover
To what has become of us,
Just wait it out till it's all over?

Tell me how wrong is it,
To want out right now?
Tell me how fast,
How long it will take you to run out?
Tell me,
I'll count,
I can't wait,
Can't just sit around.

Gunpacking round town,
Gonna leave soon,
Shoot for the stars,
Land up on the moon.
There you stand, smiling,
Oblivious of your impending doom.
Run now while you still can,
Run before the silence, before the BOOM!

*this made absolutely no sense sorryy*

Our Time

We were told to grow up,
We were told it's a wonder,
We were told we'd be free,
Free to make any blunders.
They spoke of such a paradise,
The talks made us wait,
The minutes turned into hours,
The hours into days.
We counted the time on our little fingers,
Kept counting till they grew bigger,
The count had now gone beyond measure,
A smile lights up as we realise we're adults.
So we searched for the paradise,
Far and wide,
Hunted for days and weeks,
Not sleeping at night.
The mistakes we made,
Did not slip,
The prices we paid,
Were way too big.
But we never stopped searching,
Searching for this Wonderland,
And we never realised,
It was all a trap.
For growing up was not being free,
It was being caged,
Like a bird bound to a tree.
But we keep singing,
Hoping in vain,
Someday we'll be free,
Someday our time will come.

But now we realise, we know, we feel.
It's time to break the chains
It's time to fly, soaring the blue skies,
Full of wonder, full of joy.
Take one last look at these binds, my friends.
Then set fire and run.
Take one last look, my friends,
Our time has come.
.
*cue evil laughter*
*vanishes in the flames*

You need help.

Mommy and Daddy have been having lots of fights lately.

They fight every night. I pretend to be asleep, but really, I hear the screaming through the paper-thin walls of our tiny house.

Last night, I heard a vase break, and I heard Mommy crying. Daddy then started crying, too.

Today at lunch, as Daddy sat at the head of the table and Mommy sat opposite of me, I noticed the purple marks on her neck and arms. I wanted to ask her, but there was a chilling silence this afternoon that I just couldn’t find in myself to break.

So after lunch, as I sat reading my book, Mommy came up to my room and shut the door. She grabbed my hair in her fists, her face red and tear-blotched. I screamed in pain as she thrashed me against the headboard of my bed. Again and again. I passed out for a while after that.

I missed dinner. And now as I lay in bed, I hear the screaming. More throwing things, more vases breaking. More crying. There was a short silence, and then I think I heard Mommy scream. It ended abruptly.

Something made me get out of bed. I went outside. The door to the basement was open.

I went downstairs. One dim light was glowing, and a foot behind it, Daddy stood, hunched over a long table. It was much too dark to see anything.

‘Daddy?’ I ask. He turns around, and I see what’s on the table. It’s Mommy’s body, pale and lifeless, blood oozing out from various spots. Daddy’s hands are red, he’s holding a butcher knife in one.

He looks at me, forming words in his mouth. ‘Sweetie..’

‘Don’t,’ I say, walking towards him. He looks at me with tears in his eyes.

I look at my mother’s body.

‘Can I help?’

He smiles.

Avenge my Soul.

You can cut me,
You can make me bleed.
My bones may break,
But it'll take more than that to crack me.
I'll still have my soul,
Unhurt and whole,
I'll survive even in the cold,
Because I'm dead already, don't you know?

Perfect Lovers

They had skin like paper,
Cuts much deeper,
All their lives they searched for someone like themselves.
But fate said no, they shouldn't meet,
They should never be.
And so, it was tragic,
When they passed each other,
They walked right by,
the Perfect Lovers♡

Fate.

Telling someone not to be sad because someone else is going through more crap than they are is ridiculous.
It's like telling someone not to be happy because someone out there has better things and a genuinely better life than theirs.
People are so stereotypical, that they sometimes don't even realize that they are hurting others' feelings.
Like, I've heard so many people justifying that, no, just because someone did something bad, they aren't bad people.
You know what? I disagree.
Yes, bad things happened to them, so they did something bad.
But, you know what? Bad things happen to everyone.
Tragedy strikes everyone, not looking at whether they're old or young, or innocent or not.
Everyone is equal in the eyes of life and death, right?

Yes, bad things happen to everyone.
Now, see, that's when you find out who's naughty and who's nice.

Why, I know so many, literally SO MANY people that have been through shit, and yet they're the nicest people I know.

Bad things happen to everyone. Everyone cries the same tears and endures the same pain.
These tragedies are what make the bad people do bad things.
They're also what make the good people, good.

It depends on you, entirely.
It's all in your hands.
"It is the fool and the coward who says- "This is fate", so says the Sanskrit proverb. 
It is the strong man who stands up and says "I will make my fate"."

Ps.- Yes, okay I quoted Swami Vivekananda. So sue me. 

I Know.

You wanna see the scars? They've faded.
You wanna see my heart? It's torn.
You wanna be a part? Go ahead and join in.
You wanna see what it's like on the inside? I dare you to even try.

Why would they say something, when they have no idea what it's like on this side?
Why make someone feel like trash?
Does it make them happy? Is that happiness worth someone else's? Or rather, their pain and misery?

I asked him for forgiveness long ago.
You know what he said? He said: "I may forget, but I will never forgive, The scars will remain for as long as I live."

I tell you, I assure this,
It isn't worth someone else's life, their happiness, their joy.
I say this, for I know,
I know, and I feel so low.

Terrible Things.

Tears flow steadily,
The ground shakes beneath me.
I keep asking myself, over and over again,
What have I done to myself?

I watched a movie today,
It said everything I had to say.
It showed the story of a little girl,
And how she was scarred by the big bad world.

I sit, tired and alone,
I feel like my insides are torn.
Oh, what am I going to do now?
Where should I go now?

I want to see how great the world is,
I want to see the sunshine and the butterflies.
But how can I, how will I ever?
If life keeps doing these terrible things to me.

Everything Plastic

Paper cuts and blood stains,

Reasons never ending,

Mirrors, make up- being so vain,

The rules never bending.

The smile never faltering,

The grades are perfect,

Spirits never dropping,

Tears are tears- they remain wet.

Some relief to all this pain,

The touch of a hand,

The cut of a blade,

The music by that band.

And so what if you don’t cry at lunch,

You conceal it,

You don’t say anything much,

Refusing to reveal it.

But people will be people,

Never too gentle,

Words can weaken,

When they’re harsh and judgemental.

Yet look around, how they are living a lie,

Look at the faces they make,

It’s just a survival instinct, a way to get by,

Yet I’m the one everything plastic and everything fake.

SHIT.

I am not a very regular blogger, since I often have no idea what I should blog about.
Since no one reads this crap anyways, I thought hey, what the hell? Let me just blog about my butt loads of problem because really what have I to lose anymore?
So, this is pretty much gonna be me whining about my problems maybe not I'm just writing right now.

I am not strong. I would like to believe that I am, but I'm honestly just not. I'm a coward.
I have started cutting myself again and it's 9.30 pm right now, I have been in bed since like 9 in the morning, and all I have done is watched 'Adult World', that's a movie, and four episodes of American Horror Story, had real shit conversations with friends and all through this I was bawling my eyes out for no apparent reason.
Maybe it's because I returned from my dad's yesterday. I won't see him for another five months.
And after those five months I might permanently move to the city he lives in. And leave all my friends, dreams, everything behind.
I haven't spoken to any of my friends in like, two weeks. The only people I have met and spoken to in the past two weeks are: my mum, my dad, my stepmom, my grandparents, cousins(like that counts), and my uncle.
I had breakfast this morning- half of the pizza that was leftover from last night. I had milk after that. I had no lunch. I drank seven bottles of water, puked twice. I haven't had dinner yet. I'm sitting in my room, watching some shit movies and crying.
I look around, and honestly, everything hurts. I have no idea why I'm hurting this much.
And my friends? Hell, feels like no one cares. No one probably does, anyways. And no one understands what I'm going through?
Honestly, I feel like a shit person surrounded by shit and shit people in a complete shit world.
And to say that, would be an understatement.
And my views on love? It doesn't exist. It just doesn't. So wake up and move on, stop holding onto shit that doesn't matter. And people that don't deserve your love.
Music is the only thing I still love, and my books. And of course my mother.
Everything else can seriously go to hell man. I will personally send them to hell and watch them burn and then laugh in their faces as their skin burns and boils and crumbles layer by layer.
Not literally of course. So chill you don't need to call the cops.
Last night, hell til noon, I was a clean slate. Literally, no cuts on my arms.
And now? Man, it honestly looks like some bizarre symbol that I've cut.
It's funny how loneliness can change a person.
I have made the mistake of thinking loneliness was depression. Well, now I know what depression really is.
I don't feel like going out to have dinner, even though I'm starving. I only get out to pee.
I just want to curl up into a ball and sleep. And never wake up.
I know. Messed up, right?

Well, basically, if anyone else is going through this shit- you can always talk to me. I understand if you are going through this. 

best Things That Ever Happened To Me.

Pizza is the best thing that ever happened to me.
I mean, thin crust or thick crust, double cheese or single cheese, veggies or meat (okay maybe not veggies so much) it's absolutely amazing. And it's like junk food which makes it 100X tastier no arguments alright.

On second thought, scratch that- yogurt is the best thing that ever happened to me.
Frozen yogurt is heaven. It is life. It is absolutely amazing and I love this little place called I think Sixth Street and it has amazing yogurt like wow i want more. and more. and more. some more. just a little more, i swear!
YOGURT, YUM!

Actually, well, music is the best thing I guess.
I mean no arguments, music can heal and make you happy and it'll just be there at the end of the day you know? It just feels so good, so right.

Guitar, too.
I mean, those six strings though*heart emoji* One of those breaks, and it's like my heart breaks and someone please save me I'm not even breathing anymore.

You know, I really need to make up my mind ugh I'm such a mess.

It's Gone, Going.. Gone.

I've been an all-over-the-place thoughts kind of a person all my life.
To be quite honest, I have no idea where my loyalties lie, I'm not too sure what that says about me.
Skipping the part where I doubt myself majorly, I'll move onto the important stuff.
One question each one of us struggles with: What is happiness? How do we find it?
It's not an easy answer, not easy to find, and definitely not too easy to understand.

Happiness is simplicity. Happiness is satisfaction. Because, never can you be 'happy' if you remain unsatisfied.
Happiness, therefore, comes with self-acceptance. You can't be happy, or even a thousand miles within, if you can't learn to love who you are.
So, tell me this: how will you find happiness with that one person that constantly makes you feel insufficient? This person that makes you feel like your smile isn't just the brightest thing ever, like your eyes aren't the most beautiful irises, full of life. Like your tears aren't wet enough, like your words aren't read-worthy. Like you aren't worth it. Because love itself is acceptance, and if that doesn't exist, know this- you have no reason to believe that it is love.
How will you find happiness with all that wealth? For one day, when you may be deprived of it, you may be left broken and tattered like that old pair of jeans you threw away for the new ones that cost thrice as much? What about when your resources exhaust themselves and isolate like that old bag, the one which you threw in the dumpster for that expensive Louis Vuitton?
Material thing will leave you. They aren't forever. They will cherish, just like this much-alike 'happiness', that isn't even so in the first place.
It doesn't matter where we came from, or how we came here, as long as we're true to ourselves. As long as we did the right thing.

There's a song by the Black Eyed Peas. Called 'Gone Going' featuring Jack Johnson.I strongly suggest you listen to it, it's a beautiful and meaningful song.
Here's my fave parts, just two don't worry:
"Cause, what happens when they take your material,
And you already sold your soul."

"All that money that you got gonna be gone
That gear that you rock gonna be gone
The house up on the hill gonna be gone
The gold purse on your grill gonna be gone
The ice on your wrist gonna be gone
That nice little Miss gonna be gone
That whip that you roll gonna be gone
And what's worst is your soul's already gone."

Ouch man, right in the feels.

Anyways, Keep Calm, Stay Rad and Peace Out! *zaps herself into thin air*
*zaps back* also guys, don't forget to comment, it would mean a ton! and check out my Instagram page, official for And She Wrote. @shejustwrote i'm gonna post random stuff but follow anyways? Keep reading thankss loveyouuuu<3 

Fun Things To Do In The Vacations.

Well, vacations can be boring without your friends, or boring in general. Oh dear, have I experienced that. Every vacation I go live with my father, and every time I bore my brains out.

So, what makes this time different?

Here's the answer~ I have a list of fun things I can do!

Wanna know what these are? Yes? Alright, then. (No? I'm gonna tell you anyways so hold on tight lol.)

*Some of these are gonna be pretty lame but I'm fourteen and I bet they're fun anyways so please bear with me thankyew*

1. Learn how to play the drums.

2. Learn how to play the piano.

3. Learn how to play the guitar(if you don't already know, unlike me).

4. Learn to play the bass.

5. Learn to play the ukulele, because it's such a cute little version of guitar you could just eat it up lol.

6. Join a band.

7. Meet new people.

8. Join dancing classes.

9. Dance.

10. Sing.

11. Join a band temporarily if you can.

12. Download those apps that allow you to record your voice and create songs, or like the karaoke apps. Even if your voice sucks, much unlike mine, do it because it's fun.

13. Paint your room.

14. Paint. Make canvas paintings. Even if it means writing your name in weird colours in a weird handwriting.

15. Keep a diary. Write things that interest you, people that interest you.

16. Go meet new people, Meet cute guys.

17. Flirt your brains out. Lol I know, but do it.

18. Skate. Buy a pair, and do it.

19. Swim.

20. Go trekking. If you live in that kind of a place, trek thrice a week. 

21. Go adventure sporting. It's always fun and you can go with your friends, family, guy-you-met-on-the-way-here-but-seems-interesting-so-you'll-just-tag-along, whoever.

22. Go to the kennel, volunteer to work there. Playing with dogs all day long, who doesn't love it?? They're cute and fluffy and they bark and you could just cuddle them awwh. 

23. Take up part-time jobs. Work at the local library, the kennel, take up an online job as a writer for a magazine maybe. 

24. Take up an internship. Even if it means shredding papers and sharpening pencils or getting coffee, you can always dress up in a dress-shirt and formal pants and be all formal and cool. 

25. Take pictures. Take lots and lots of pictures.

26. Start a YouTube channel. Interview people, strange events, put it up. That can always be fun, and it doesn't even require much effort.

27. Go Shopping. Dear Boys, IT CAN BE FUN. DO IT. IT WILL NOT MAKE YOU GAY OK.

28. Cook. Take up cooking or baking classes.

29. Do stuff that excites you. That depends on you really, what further excites you.

30. And, oh, the last thing. Don't remember to have fun!

Well, yo. Keep Calm, Stay Rad and Peace Out!

Parents. *Sigh*

There are things that are just better when they aren't known to anyone.
Why keep a secret? Because, isn't that a lot like lying?
It is.
Invariably, people consider it lying.
But, is it a lie when you don't actually actually tell it?
No, this isn't a trick question alright.

One thing I have learnt, it's important to tell the truth to your parents if you wanna have an adult relationship with them.
But don't ever, I repeat, EVER let them in on the little white lies.
Whether it's taking a puff off someone's cigarette(though you coughed a lot and never did it again), or whether you took a swig of the beer bottle lying almost-empty at that family part.
Whether you had your first kiss, or your first.. you know. But girls, DO tell your mum or dad if you get your first period.
I mean, if you do end up telling them any of this, you just get egged on, you know.
Like, it never leaves. You've got to hide your face in the household.
But I guess its better they get to know of it from you rather than getting informed by someone else or even worse- catching you in that dark alley, all messed up and smoking a joint.

This was all over the place, really shitty advice, it's a half past midnight, and I have nothing to apologize for.
So, Keep Calm, Stay Rad and Peace Out!

She. [Part I]

She had been hurt and slashed to pieces.
And so, she lay there, scattered on her bathroom floor, blood dripping from her wrists, stomach and thighs, from the wounds that had been left due to the incisions she had made.
She heard a pounding on her bedroom door, a sound so distant and unreachable. She knew it was her brother, but she didn't worry, for she knew he would soon leave.
The banging finally stopped, and she wiped a few tears from her cheek.
She tried standing up, and with all her strength, she stood up after hours. She whimpered from the chill in the air, covered only by a singlet and her underwear. And she stepped in front of the mirror.
She almost stopped breathing, what she saw was terrible: her hair was a wild mess of tangles, her face was hollow from eating so little, her arms and legs trembled, blood all over and cuts marking her skin.But her eyes, they were the worst. Her eyes held the demons.
It was depressing to see what just a boy could do to her.

She fought the urge to go back into hibernation, for it was time for dinner.
And so, like she had been doing for the past few days, she slipped on tracks and a hoodie, elongated the sleeves to a point where she looked like an unkept, sad scarecrow.
She headed down the stairs, playing with the sleeves of her hoodie.

Dinner went by as usual, she played around with the peas in her plate, barely eating anything. She had half the steak, though, which she would later puke up into her toilet. She watched as her parents talked, as her brother laughed, and as their dog, Bob, wiggled his tail and barked. But she just sat there, smiling occasionally, but she was dying on the inside.
"I won't wake up," she half-wished, muttering to herself, like she did every night before sleeping.

And yet another torturous day lay ahead of her as she walked to her Law class, clutching her books close to her bosom, avoiding any unnecessary attention.
She hated every bit of it. She hated having to hear the taunts.
She hated having her best friend 3000 miles away from her.
She hated having to face her culprit every single day.

"Hey." And yet, he manages to pretend like nothing ever happened, like the party was just great, like he didn't do what he did.
"Go away, Max," she said, gritting her teeth. He swung his arm around her shoulder, grinning. She bit down on her lip to the extent that she could feel the sweet-sickly taste of her blood pool in her mouth, just to keep herself from crying.


  

Happy.

Give up everything else and look around,

Is it still the same place that you'd want to be?

In an alternative universe as compared to this one,

Is this still the same person you'd aim to be?

You'd think that this is all, 

This is the ultimate achievement,

But bare your all, and make the call,

In these material things, do you still find contentment?

There is nothing that exists for sure,

Nothing is permanent,

Life is a joke, so laugh through it,

Everything else is just an illusion.

The hands will slip away,

Just as the bonds will fade,

Everyone and everything will disappear someday,

The memories only serving as a source of pain.

So fight for the finer things in life,

Things that will make you strive,

The people that love you for you,

And anything and everything that brings joy to you.

Be Happy, It's All That Matters.

These Walls.

It's hard to forget him.

It's hard to forget the color of his eyes, and the softness of his lips, the weirdness of him altogether that I so deeply once admired.

And looking into the depths of my heart, one may find, all these things, I still admire about him.

Because I'd always put up these walls- tall and strong, refusing to let anyone through my tough exterior and into my vulnerable, damaged self.

But he did. He got through. With his soothing words and calming glances, he melted me.

And now he's gone. He's gone and taken away the piece of me that was finally understood.

And suddenly, I feel trapped again. Like I'm drowning, struggling for the littlest of air,craving the open.

And I can't get it out of my head, that I let him slip away.

Sure, I can live without him, but that wouldn't be much of a life now, would it?

It had taken a lot, and even more for me to let him in and see who I truly was.

Why I did so, you ask? Because every other person had turned, to hurt me and break me.

And I didn't wanna be toyed around with and broken anymore. So I pushed him away.

But as my heart beat, I pulled him back almost instantly, dying to be heard, seen and understood.

I desperately needed someone who would hold me and say 'it'll be okay', even if that was a lie.

So, when everyone asks me why, just why I can't let go, what do you suggest I say?

Do I let them in to my vulnerable side, let them hurt me again? So they can leave just like he did?

Do I let them wrap their arms around my neck and strangle me as I'm already gasping for air, holding on for dear life?

Do you now see what the walls that I put up are made of?

Never Know.

But how will he ever know, now?
He won't.
He won't know how much I loved him.
No, how much I love him.

He'll never know what it was like on the seemingly immature side of the relationship.
I wonder if he felt the same way: this wasn't just a relationship, it was a bond.
But he'll never know that's how I felt.

"Don't," they said. "He treats you like shit."
"He doesn't see," they said.
"But how," I reasonably questioned. "How can I ever stop loving him?"
"Why not?" They asked.
But he'll never know the warmth and the love and the peace that washed over me as I simply explained:
"Because, I fell into this endless abyss that is him, and I'm too far in it, too far to ever get out of it."

He'll never know of this love, so strong and so alluring, unless he felt the same way.

I hope he did.
I hope he still does. 

Better Land.

Sometimes you just gotta get lost,
You gotta show them who's boss.
Don't let them push you around anymore,
Show them you're not ordinary, not another clone.

Because where are the morals in judgement?
Wherein bullying lies the happiness?
A world where pain paves a way to joy,
To such a world, you'd be glad to say goodbye.

But that's what they wanted,
To see you in pain,
Don't give them the satisfaction,
Don't let those labors go to a waste.

Because what you feel sometimes isn't what is to be believed,
Everyone has problems, with which they deal,
And sometimes what you see isn't to be concealed,
Secrets are kept, only to be revealed.

And what a shame, if you were to be no more,
What a waste, of all that talent you bore,
And so, the first time you stand with the knife in your hand,
Know that somewhere out there, exists a Better Land.

This City

Because when I look around,
I don't like the sight and sound,
Souls drowning in their misery,
And to this dreadful city, they are bound.

This city, where the night never sleeps,
This city, always playing for keeps,
This city, where there is nowhere to hide,
This city, where you'd hit a rock bottom so deep.

And when the clock strikes midnight,
Like creatures of the twilight,
They come out and play their vicious game,
And then come the highlights.

A shuffling in the bushes, the sound of footsteps,
Someone widens their eyes and their heart beats faster,
And then the unfortunate event of a trip and fall,
And then there's a cut, which does it all.

He grabs ahold of her neck and pierces them in,
And when the fangs enter, they burn her skin,
He rips her heart apart when he's done with her,
And just like that, he just wins.

That is until someone decides it's high time,
Time to rise against the crime,
The crime and the supernatural activities,
The activities that will forever haunt this city.

A Case of Me

You're like a flower that lost its fragrance,
Just like a child with no imagination,
And if this is your situation,
You know you've got a case of me.

When you can't tell what's day and night,
When you can't tell where you went right,
Right enough to get to me,
You know you've got a case of me.

Every step feels like a mile,
But it only took me a while,
And you'd give up a million bucks just to see me smile,
You know you have a case of me.

When it seems like romantic songs played on the guitar aren't gay,
When a visit to the guy with flowers isn't so rare,
When you actually start giving a damn,
You know you've caught a case of me.

And my name is popping up everywhere,
You start to choose your words with critical care,
Kissing me would shoo away the nightmares,
You can be sure that you've got a case of me.

And when I kiss you, smell the flowers,
When I talk to you on the phone for hours,
Then we both know I've got a case of you,
And you're the one and only cure.

Paradox of The Heart

You like putting me down,
While I like showing you off,
We're so completely opposite,
We're so much like a paradox.

If you are day, I am night,
I am dark, while you are bright,
We need each other to be alive,
Without each other,  we'd struggle and strive.

If opposites attract, I'll be your cross,
And if they don't see it, it's their loss,
We'll reach out and reach across,
Like lovers that are star-crossed.

Wherever, whenever, whatever may be,
Promise you'll always remain next to me,
And so will I, I won't leave,
I'll always love you, even if it's my last, dying deed.

Hard to believe I'd fall, and follow you to the opposite direction,
You are my miracle, my worst distraction,
Everyday I live in sweet confusion,
I'd never understand this paradox of my heart. 

Self Harm

Self harm isn't suicide.
I know, because I do it.

People that don't harm themselves, usually think this:
a. "You do it for attention. Wannabe."
b. "You're not even gonna die! Why not cut your head off?" Aaaaaaand then back to the attention-seeking thing.
c. "OHHHMYGODD  she is soooooo creepy. She's such a psycho, ew."

I know this, because I have gone through all three.
Well, here's the truth:
I don't know about the rest, but I don't do it for attention. I can have attention if I want it.
And, yeah, I don't do it because I wanna die.
My reason for cutting is that... You know how, when you grow up, it's so sudden, and it finally starts to feel real, but soooooo much changes and it all feels like a dream? That's somewhat what I go through everyday. 
Sometimes, the dream is more of a nightmare. And maybe, I can't take it anymore, maybe I just wanna wake up from this hell of a life.
But, that's when I cut. 
I cut, so I can remind myself, that this is who I am now. I have to brace the pain, face my worst fears, because life isn't a playground anymore, it's all real, and I'm real. This pain is real. 
I don't give up when I cut. I keep myself from doing just that when I do. 

And I'm no psycho, period. Have you met or seen Norman Bates?
.... Now, that is psycho.

And, here's a little word of advice to everyone who cuts: 
It'll go away when it has to. I can try to stop you, but you're the only one that can really stop yourself. Find comfort in someone older or wiser, maybe some friend, even, someone that understands. And of no one does, do what I do: write. Or sing. Or dance. Anything that makes you happy, really. But don't suppress the pain.

And, here's advice to those who don't cut:
If someone you know cuts, don't make fun of them, or call them 'psycho'. You may not even know it, but you're cutting even deeper into their soul. These words hurt, and it'll someday make someone completely hollow.

So, yeah, self harm isn't suicide.
To me, it's a way for the truth to settle in.

It isn't dramatic, like in the movies or books or legendary stories.
It isn't even brave, hell.
But it isn't fake and cowardice, either.

STAY STRONG. 

"Okay."

"Okay."
One word, right?
Wrong.

It' more than just a word, you know?
It's got a lot of emotion in it.
It's funny how just one word that consists of only four letters can describe such an infinitive, yet somehow undescribable feeling.

"Okay" has just been an everyday word, for the longest time for me. Just, yeah, okay.
There's this book, that's been adapted into a movie. "The Fault In Our Stars."
Heard of it? Of course you've heard of it.
'Till I completed that book, and watched the movie, "Okay", to me, was just another word.

You know what I love about the book?
The fact that their love story, Hazel and Augustus, I mean. Their love story didn't need a, like, a long punchline, or like a 'Forever and Always,' or 'For as long as we both exist, our love will exist, and even after all the world seizes to exist, I will continue loving you'.
No.
Their love is based on this one simple idea:
Oblivion is inevitable.
At Gus' prefuneral, Hazel says somewhere in her eulogy, "I will not tell you our love story, because like all other real love stories, it will die with us. As it should."
As it should.
I love that about it.
They both know that they're gonna die at some point, you know? Yet, they risk falling in love. Because, of course, one of them would die, and it would hurt the other. Most people don't want to hurt.
But that's the kind of love I believe in, the kind of love I look for. The kind that is ready to feel the pain and hurt and emptiness for the next five years, ten years-maybe even the rest of your waking moments on this planet-just to spend that one month with that one person you know you can never stop loving.

"Perhaps 'Okay' can be our 'Always'."
The kind of love that will speak for you, that will tell you, 'You don't need forever, as long as you've got each other.'
Okay, I'm not gonna lie and say I don't want forever with the boy that I love; I never want to let him go, ever.
But, I want to have that kind of courage and faith in myself, in the person I love, and in love itself, to let go, and say 'I'm ready for the impact.'

Love isn't easy- to find, keep or let go of.

"Oblivion is inevitable. And I'm in love with you."
The kind of love that gives you not the physical strength, but the courage to go on.
The kind of love that even disease and death cannot undo.

"Okay?"
"Okay."

EK VILLAIN- Every love Story Has One, This One Has Three.

Ek Villain..
Okay, so I totally watched it for Siddharth Malhotra.. The cutie that he is, I really like him as a bad boy, too:p
But, well, he was the ONLY tolerable part of the movie.
And I do mean the ONLY part. 

Shraddha Kapoor's character was IRRITATING as hell, and that is only to be subtle.
And as far as Riteish Deshmukh's character is concerned.. Aah, well, don't ever give your telephone repair guy shit lol, or you might end up dead in the balcony.

The movie had ABSOLUTELY no solid ground, or a sensible story whatsoever.

TORTURE is what it was, with annoying jokes by Shraddha Kapoor at almost all times. There are jokes cracked during funerals, when Siddharth Malhotra is running behind a train in which Shraddha Kapoor is. The movie so much as ends with a terrible PJ.

The movie makes you want to shoot yourself, that is, until the end just does it for you.

The movie is Chinese torture.

You wonder why the movie is titled 'Ek Villain', it seems like a murder mystery but then comes along the line 'Every Love Story Has One' and you think maybe it's Riteish and Siddharth fighting for Shraddha?

Truth being told, the movie couldn't be more obvious, with Guru(Siddharth) as the angry young man, who turns good after meeting a bubbly Aisha(Shraddha)- gee, isn't that ABSOLUTELY ORIGINAL?- who cracks the lamest jokes of the century at the oddest of times. And Riteish Deshmukh's character is completely psycho, he is driven to madness by his wife, who keeps criticizing his every move.

I usually find even the WORST movies somehow entertaining- I am ordinarily very patient with Bollywood, but this is the ONE MOVIE YOU MUST AVOID WATCHING UNDER ANY CONDITIONS.

*Even if you get free tickets*

This movie is injurious to your health. You may want to tear your hair out, and poke your eyeballs with pencils, shoot all the three actors plus the director. 

AVOID WATCHING THIS MOVIE FOR YOUR OWN SAKES. 

You Have Been Warned.

PS: Sound off in the comments :) 

Dear Friend,..

I told everyone I hate you. I started believing it, too.
You hurt me, I hurt you.
Somewhere in between these lies I lost it, too.
I thought I'd turn around and say something impressive, like, "I'm afraid it's too late to apologize."
But truly speaking...
I'm afraid I'll always have a soft spot for you.
No matter what, I'll always want to know what you think of a situation too.

I can deny it for the rest of my life, and live caring about you..
Or.
I could admit it right now.
You were a piece of my heart that I lost for a fraction of a moment.
Every guy I crushed on, every time I moved on,
lacked your idiotic comments and ridiculously contagious smile.
At a point I felt so hurt, by me or by you, I'm not too sure.
I stopped caring for a while.
Yes I said mean things, yes I was a bad person,
But the moment you said 'hey' again,
I saw nothing but a friend.

Some people would just make a call,
but you know me, I'm awkward.
Writing is my way of saying what I feel.
And I'm sorry. 

Questions

If seasons can change, why not people?

If people can change, why not habits?

If habits can change, then why not our minds?

If our minds change, why not surroundings?

Everything can change, then what's the big deal about it?

If change is the only constant, then why make a big deal about it?

Everything changes, then why curse them and hate them for it?

I don't like weird people.

Weird people are weird.

People find me weird.

I don't like people that judge.

Does that make me a hypocrite?

The sky is blue in the mornings.

It's orangish something in the evening.

It's dark blue at night sometimes.

Sometimes it's black.

What the heck are astronauts doing up there again?

Say you love a person.

Then you break up with that person.

Then you cry over that person.

Then you try to make that person jealous.

Why all the complications?

If you hate someone,

how can you love that person?

If someone bullies you,

how can you love that person?

If someone is a jerk,

how can you love that person?

Human nature is one damned labyrinth.

It changes with every turn you take.

Every nook and corner will bend out into something different.

Why the heck am I writing down such dumb questions?

The Fruit

There was once a little girl inside,
that didn't have to run and hide,
One that wasn't afraid of the world,
What she felt, she spoke.

She had trust in the world,
She never felt the cold,
She had faith in God,
She had faith that he'd help her do what's hard.

Every little moment, she ceased,
Every little thing, she treasured,
She spread light wherever she went,
And to the things she could do, she knew no end.

One day she went to the tree,
Like a bird, just as free,
Her mother had told her not to eat,
The fruit that hung by the branch, looking so sweet.

She looked at it, and widened her eyes,
In the background, her mother cries,
Don't dear, it's not a good fruit,
She didn't bother to look.

She reached out with her hand,
But couldn't seize it,
She was a little girl, yes,
But determined and stubborn nevertheless.

Her eyes were bright and full of light,
Who knew, it would be the last time,
Somehow the fruit fell into her hand,
Who knew, it would be the last time she would stand.

The bright red fruit that she held,
She took a bite of it, and she felt,
The bright red turn into a dull shade of nothingness,
black takes over as she falls to her knees.

She drops the fruit,
She looks at her hand,
She realizes what's happening,
And lays down on her back.

She looks up at the tree and the sky,
And on her face there's a smile,
She shuts her eyes,
She says a small goodbye.

Just like curiosity killed the cat,
I saw the girl fade,
I saw her trust in the world,
Go away.

Three days later I came back where she once laid,
I didn't see her, I'd seen her fade,
With the tree, lying under it,
I saw the fruit, it had turned grey.

When People Leave

Yesterday, me and my friends gave another one of our friends a sending-off party.
He is a close friend, and he's moving overseas on a permanent basis, so... :'(
We planned a surprise party for him, with a picture of all of us so he wouldn't forget us, and his favorite, blueberry cheesecake, which was so tasty.
People come into your life. Some of them, you're gonna enjoy their company. Some, you're gonna want to strangle. But, hey, bottom line is, people leave.
Everyone has to leave someday. That's the sad truth about life.
You're born alone, you'll die alone. It's not like The Notebook where you'll die with your spouse in the same deathbed. Yes, you're born alone, just as you'll die alone. But the period between these two events, is the true miracle, called life. It's where you meet new people, get to know them. It's where you lose people, where you learn to love, to trust.
Sometimes, when they leave, you're gonna be really sad. You're gonna cry, and your brain's gonna feel like it's gonna explode. Your heart's gonna hurt so much that it's gonna feel like no amount of crying is gonna make it go away. The truth is, sometimes you're gonna hurt so much that no amount of crying is gonna make it go away.
I'm not gonna be a hypocrite, and say, "Don't cry." Cry. Cry till you can cry no more. Because when you lose someone, your heart IS gonna hurt. You WILL cry. You WILL lock yourself in your room. You will do all of these things because, well...
As Norman Bates said(I've recently started watching Bates Motel), "I think grief is just the period of time it takes for your brain to accept that someone's gone.Cause everything in your body, your mind, your entire being, just keeps bringing you back to the moment that they're still alive. It takes a long time for your body to let go of that. It's the hardest thing of all... To let go of someone you love."
It's so true, don't you think? Grief is just me trying to catch up to the fact that someone I love, I just lost.
Someone I spent my days with, laughing, smiling, talking, is going.
Tears will spill, hearts will break.
But, I think the thing to remember is..
Sometimes, even the good ones leave... And the better ones arrive.

My heart isn't made of glass, it's an organ, silly. Neither is yours.
Someone will leave, but for the better. Someone will come, and make you that much happier.
Just like the night will prevail, to pave way for the light of the day.

When people leave,
you're gonna cry,
You're gonna ask why,
But you'll be alright.

When people leave,
It's gonna hurt,
It's gonna seem unfair,
And the world won't seem to care.

But remember this,
It won't last forever,
Cry for a while,
Then smile, and get on with life.

Some Days

So, I remember this new year, being stuck with a particularly interesting group of five adults.
A warm day on a Dubai beach, four grown-ups swimming in the water and the last of them standing with me in the ankle-length clear blue-green water, led to a very interestingly mature and deep conversation that is not washed out of my system as of yet.
She told me not to care what other people thought of me. She told me to follow my dreams, irrespective of other's expectations of me. She told me this, and one of the other grown-ups came out of the water.
On hearing our conversation, he expressed his own opinion.
He said if a writer doesn't care what his readers think of him, he will lose all his readers soon. Agreed.
This rose to an argument between the two. I could not help but smile as these two completely different people argued.
Somewhere along we talked about success, and truly successful people.
And then, the question arose:
'Can success be measured in terms of money?'
This is probably a question each one of us ask ourselves, a question each one of us has a different opinion of.
Many different possible conclusions went through my mind, but I stated only one observation:
'Money can't buy everything, but no money can't buy anything.'

A slight drizzle prevailed, and we decided to call it a day.
As I have said time and again, I'm just fourteen. I do, at times, behave like I know everything. My Twitter and Facebook wall is full of these emotional thoughts and all. But, I am just fourteen. I try being deep, and I think that to a certain point, I am. After that, I'm just plain dramatic.
You may think I am incapable of having an opinion of my own. I tried, but my mind kept changing sides.
As we sat in the car, one of the adults told me something. Which I will never forget. Those few words, have helped me form an opinion. It's not too deep, or complicated.
It's simple:
'Whatever you do, do it with enthusiasm. That's all you really need to be happy.'

Some days, still, when I feel lost, I think of this, and it leads me back on track.
Do what you love, or love what you do. Either way, don't do something you don't want to.

"Sometimes I lay under the moon, and thank God I'm breathing..."

Apologies, etc.

I’m sorry if I ever gave you a reason to be upset with me,

I’m sorry if I ever behaved badly.

I’m sorry if there’s something I’m not seeing,

I’m sorry it’s got to do with me.

I’m sorry if I never listened,

I’m sorry it has come to this.

Every time you lied,

I'm sorry I never stopped to think, why?

I'm sorry I gave you my forgiveness way too easily,

I’m sorry I treated this so coolly.

Every time you forgot me,

Every time you lost me,

Every time you just never remembered,

I’m sorry I never said anything.

But I’m tired of being the bigger person,

I’m tired of having to be the one that gives in.

I’m sorry to be saying sorry,

I’m sorry it wasn’t my mistake.

I’m tired of not being listened to,

I’m tired of you.

Do It All Again

School is like a second home? Sure.
Teachers are like second mothers? Okay...
Come on, none of us teenagers really like studying, now, do we? I can be home-schooled. The only reason we attend that stupid mental asylum, is because...
You wake up, and sleepily do everything, have a bath, change, do your hair, apply lotion. "Only 8 hours of sleep isn't freaking enough time for me to sleep!" Drink the milk, wear your shoes, and the bus honks.
"Leave!" Your mum shouts, and the next thing, you've slung your bag over your shoulder, and you're rushing down the stairs."Ow!" You wince when you trip over the last step and land on your butt. But before even 2 seconds, you're back on your feet, rushing to the gate.
Everything seems to move in freakin' slow motion as you run towards your bus. You see the bus almost going, and you finally reach. The conductor shakes his head, and you enter the bus, panting, but smiling nevertheless.
You finally made it. You sit on the crappy seats of the bus. You listen to your idiot juniors yap and crack stupid jokes that aren't even funny. To say that you roll your eyes every minute is an understatement.
Wait. Just another 15 minutes...
You sleepily smile as you make it into the school premises, but are completely awake as you see your friend's bus pull in just after yours. She waves frantically, and you head down. You wait outside her bus, and she comes. "Heyyyy!" you both yell, hugging the very life out of each other.
And that's why we teenagers go to school. Friends.
It's commercial studies. You yawn and can barely keep your eyes open. You almost sleep, but snap your head up, and look around, when you see your friend's face. It looks ridiculous, and she makes faces when the teacher turns her back. Before you know it, she has a paper ball in her hand, and throws it on the teacher. "Who was it?" Seems to be the teacher's question, and for some reason, the teacher reminds you of Mrs. Dodds from Percy Jackson. Your friend smiles mischievously, covering it up with a very obviously fake cough.
That's what kept me awake today during commerce!
Recess. Ah! Food and friends! The deadliest yet most fun combination ever!
The bell rings, and you shut your books and dump it into your bag. Your friends from the other division rush into your class a moment after, and you remove your food. You gobble it all up along with your friends, and as soon as you do, in goes the box, and out go you.
And those last ten minutes you just get lost with your besties. Roaming the school like it's your kingdom and you're the king! Spending five minutes going from the topmost floor to the ground floor. Finding that one flight of stairs no one uses, and sitting there, all of you, reminiscing about the 'old' days. Thinking nothing could be better than this. Thinking nothing could ruin this moment.
Then the bell rings, and all of you shoot up the stairs, mowing down anything and everything that comes your way. You have to reach in time for next period. Panting, you hug them goodbye, and enter the boring class of yours. Ouch.
Cracking dirty jokes during class, laughing behind the teacher's back. Tickling your friend, her trying to control her laughter. And, oh! The teasing.
Then the bell rings, and it's time to go home. You're not as excited for that as you are to meet your friends for the last time in the day. You rush down the stairs, and there, you see your friends waiting for you on the ground floor, where you hug them and start walking(yeah, we girls hug a lot). The walk from there to the buses, are filled with talks about the day's event. Who pranked whom, who likes whom*giggle*, who fell down, which teacher suspended whom, et cetera. And then there's that point when your buses have to leave, and you frown.
Ouch, I wish the day didn't have to end.

But, hey, you know what? The best part about it, is you go home, fool around, and sleep at night, and then... You get to do it all again.

"There won't be another tonight nut as soon as it ends... We'll do it all again!"

Love According to me

Love.
What do I think about love?
Let's see. I used to think it is overrated. To some extent, I still think it is. When I hear people say, "I can't live without him!" And "I don't know who I am without him anymore! He is all I have!" I just don't get it.
I'm sorry, but I honestly just don't.
I believe that love, to a certain extent, is fine. When you love each other, et cetera. Like in movies. The moment the other person starts becoming your identity,.I lose track.
I believe that there truly is only one person you can trust- yourself.
Don't depend on other people for your happiness. Not on your parents, not on your friends, not on the guy you love. Everyone else will let you down. Trust yourself, and get on with life.
Know that when you will give your heart to someone, there is that 5% chance of them breaking it. If you're ready to take that risk, then do it. But if you're not, then don't blame anyone when your heart breaks.
You're gonna fall, and get up. Fall a hundred times, but get up and try again every time.
I heard this song, Say Something. The lyrics goes something like:

"And I will stumble and fall

I'm still learning to love,

Just starting to crawl..."

I think that explains what I'm trying to say. 

I want love someday. Not the overrated kind, the normal kind. 

Everybody needs somebody to love. And love isn't love 'til you give it away.

Nothing in life comes for free; if it did, we'd all be happy right now. But we're not. 

Often, we're sad, that's when we know what happiness is. What's the light without the dark? Or the music without the silence? 

Everything in life comes at least, at a risk. Take it. You've got nothing to lose.

Trust

Trust is like glass. If a person trusts you, make sure not to break it.
It is not an easy thing to gain. It is not very easy to give it so someone either.
To me, trust is complicated.
I trust my friends. Some of them are worth it, some of them break it. I think after fourteen years, I know what people are to be trusted, and who are not.
I have broken the trust of someone very important to me. Someone that was once very close, someone that once meant so much to me. That person still does. Hence, this post.

Someone once told me, "Trust, once broken, can never be gained back."
I beg to differ, though.
Everyone deserves a second chance. Everyone deserves a chance to explain themselves. Everyone is a human, and makes mistakes. But make the same mistake more than once, and it's not a mistake.
If you can work out the differences, set the meter back to zero, by putting it all out there, the trust can be gained back.

Trusting people is something not many people can do.
Trusting people is not something I can do very easily.

"I don't trust easily. When I say I trust you, please don't make me regret it."

If I were a Bird

Soaring above my head,

A bird of many colors,

As I watch it pass by,

I think to myself,

'How interesting life must be,

For a bird so free!'

Just spread your wings,

and fly away,

Life can be what you want it to be,

Living life by the day.

No worries for tomorrow,

Just seeing new faces,

Going new places,

And be on your way on the morrow.

The world must seem so small,

From up there, high up in the clouds.

No school, no homework, no studies,

No heartache, just fly away from all your problems.

That's what my life would be like,

If I were a bird.

Who you are

I am a fourteen year old girl. As you must know, teen girls are fussy, throw tantrums,  obsess over their hair, take loads of selfies, live off of the internet and phones. There are two paths this post could take-  in the first, I say I'm not like that. I say I'm Miss Goody Two Shoes, and move on to say how perfectly I do things. In short, I could lie.
And in the second one, I say I'm exactly like that. I obsess over my hair, wash it once every two days, tie it when I go to sleep so I don't have tangles in the morning. I have a brush, a normal comb, and a wide toothed comb. I like trying new hairdos. I don't like it if anyone touches my hair or messes it up. If you do, you better run for your life I'm on your case now. I'm being serious right now, yes. I take so many selfies, honestly, it's not even funny. Go ahead, look up my Facebook or Twitter. My mother is sick of my selfies, and my phone storage is full. I had to delete some really good ones, too, recently. Aw, shame it is. Anyways. I am fussy. I don't like it if anyone cleans up my room. I cannot live without my laptop, it has my music, and most importantly, my stories. I cannot live without my phone, please that's common sense. Ditto with my iPod.
I go with the latter.

But, you know, I wasn't always like that. There was a time when I was Miss Goody Two Shoes. I listened to my mum and never threw tantrums.
But all of that changed in one year. In the year 2013, when I turned thirteen.

I started being a pain in the bum teen. My grades went lower and lower like a mountain slope- a steep one, at that.
Everything changed for me. In January 2013, I wanted to be a dancer and perform on Broadway. In June 2013, I wanted to sing.
It's funny how life can turn upside down all the way through in just four months. Take it from me, I have experienced it.
For me, dancing was escape. But I soon realized, dancing is to obtain perfection- the right mudras, et cetera. I'm not criticizing the art, I just wasn't that kind of a person, I'm still not.
I used to learn Kathak, and I told my mum I wanted to quit. Everyone tried to get me to continue, but I had my mind made.
And after that, for three months, I just didn't know who I was. Dancing. That was all I knew of myself, and now that I wasn't doing it anymore, what was I supposed to do?
It was like floating around in space, with no gravity to pull you back home. It was looking down at my hands and just wondering, "where am I?" The worst part was questioning myself. "Is this who I really am?"
All that disappeared soon enough.
One day, just sitting in my room. I looked around myself and saw a mess of a person. I sighed, and looked around once again. And then I saw something. Something, through the thick mist. I got up, and walked towards it, and the fog started to clear. And the moment I picked it up, I knew it is my identity.
The guitar is my identity.

So, I started learning the guitar. It's such fun. Each string means something, each is a different voice. Each hits a different note with such beauty. It's medicine to the ears, really. To the soul, too.

And then everything started going back to normal. Well, not really, but I started to be... okay.
My thirteenth year. It's the year that I looked into the mirror and I wasn't the same girl anymore. And the thing is, I felt no regret or remorse looking into that mirror. I felt good. Because you know how people say you never know what you have til you've lost what you have? I lost myself.
And then I realized, I hadn't. I realized that, 'I'm just thirteen. If anything, I may have just found who I really am.'
When you give everything up. Throw it all away, you're still gonna be left with... YOU. Your soul, the real you.
You can never lose who you really are. It's always gonna be there with you as a part of your soul.

"Just be true to who you are."

Today

Life is like a roller coaster,
It will take you up and down,
In unexpected ways it will take you places,
Up, about and around.

Life is like a book,
With many pages to be written,
Blank it is as of yet,
Now fill it with emotion.

Life is like a flower,
Yet blooming, yet fresh,
Water it, nurture it,
It's beautiful, you will see.

Life is like music,
It is to be created,
It is in your hands,
And it is waiting to be played.

Life is beautiful,
Life is short,
Live it to its fullest,
And don't let any obstacle of the sort,
Stand in your way,
Because you only have today.

MUSIC

I wanna talk about music.

What is music? A bunch of instruments being played together to form a tune? Maybe, but that's only on the surface.
Music is so much more than beats and rhythms and chords. Music is deeper than any other ocean.
Music is what emotions sound like. It says what cannot be expressed. It is connecting with your soul. It is finding peace within oneself.

Music means as much to me as my writing does. To think of life without music is like living a life with no oxygen.

You may never even realize it, but the music will always be there, to calm your nerves, to soothe you, and for you to groove to.

The feeling that you get when you listen to a song and it explains exactly how you feel, is unexpressable. Music can give you so much joy. When you hum a song while doing some important work.

It can be so many things to so many people. To me, it is my escape. No one can do anything about my music. It is the one thing in my life that remains untouched and unmoved, irrespective of other's views and opinions.

No one can tell me my music is 'wrong'. No one can edit my playlist. It is in my hands.
When a song can tell exactly how you feel at that moment, it is one of the best feelings. It feels like so long everything has been going haywire, and suddenly, the universe decides to align the stars in your favor.

Music has the power to heal. It can heal a broken heart.

You know it's good music, when it has the ability to captivate you entirely- your mind, your soul and your body. When it can make you want to cry, and does make you cry. When it makes you smile. When it makes you feel like you're not the only one in this world that's suffering.

Music is poetry. Music is the truth. Music is my escape.

"The purpose of my music is to take it all away..."

My favorite quotes

Okay, today I'm gonna make a list of my favorite quotes. I may know some of the names of the people who said them, and then I may not, too. Expect quotes by musicians and stuff, or even lyrics from songs. Yep, I'm that kind of a person.
"The only thing I know is that I know nothing at all." This is from an Emblem3 song, Curious. I love this quote, it completely explains me right now.
"When life hands you lemonade, make lemons. Life will be all like... WHAT?!" This one is by Phil Dunphy in Modern Family.
"My guitar is not a thing. It is an extension of me. It is who I am."
"Life is short. Smile while you still have teeth."
"You can't start the next chapter of your life if you keep re-reading the previous one." A reader would understand this the best.
"Do not pray for an easy life, pray for the strength to endure a difficult one." This one's by Bruce Lee.
"I find beauty in the most imperfect and odd things. They're so much more interesting."
"People are more difficult to work with than machines. And when you break a person, he can't be fixed." Rick Riordan.
"If my life is going to mean anything, I have to live it myself." Also Rick Riordan.
"With great power comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later." This was in The Last Olympian.
"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." Wuthering Heights, Cathering Earnshaw.

These are the quotes that make most sense to me. They teach me something and mean a lot.
Like I said, this is gonna e dramatic. So, I'm gonna end now, with another quote.
"When all else fades, the music will still be playing."

Drama

I can't really think right now, to be honest. Let me tell you something about myself. I am fourteen. I love writing. It's my passion that has been burning bright ever since I can remember. But here's another thing about me- I get distracted way too easily. I can't do continuous stories. I can't maintain a diary. But that's not an excuse. So, here I am, blankly typing in some words onto my laptop, hoping it is a good enough topic to start out with.
I want to be a writer- like Chetan Bhagat or Rick Riordan, perhaps. But if I have to, I can't make up random excuses. If I want it bad enough, I have to show it. I have to try. I have to try and write.
Let's see, in a total, I think I have had about seven diaries. All of those, and mark my words, not excluding one, are full of some crap for the first three to four pages, and then blank.
I'm the kind of person that likes to complicate things in life just for the dramatic effects. So, expect many emotional, sad, over-exaggerated narratives of my life in further posts of this blog.
I've had my shares of ups and downs in life. It's all so normal, but I, as a writer, dramatize everything.
Other trivia about me. I have a lab named Neo. I live in Mumbai. I do not believe in Valentines Day or Holi. I have very recently started believing in love *blush blush*. Music and writing are two things keeping me alive. They're my food and oxygen, can't live without either. I read loads and even more.
I have no idea why I just typed in what I did, honestly. I guess this is how vain my thoughts actually are. Or maybe not. I have no idea what topic I'm supposed to write about next. I wanna write more, I really do. But my battery is dying and it's 10 in the night and my mother is shouting at me, asking me to go to sleep. Ugh my life is so hectic.
Thanks for reading this post. And if you are, please read on. I think it's gonna get more interesting, I'm gonna look up a few blogs later in the week.
But, expect drama, drama, and some more drama.