not a closet

  
It’s not a closet, it’s a box. An heirloom in the box. Like packing away an heirloom inside a box, sealing the package, and placing it in the back corners of the attic. But the things is, the box contains something important to you. The box contains something you think about everyday. The box contains something not chosen, but gifted upon you. The box contains something that, whether or not you initially wanted it, holds sentimental value. An heirloom that holds a part of you, possibly tells a portion of the story of who you are. Everyday you want to retrieve the box, unseal it, and appreciate the beauty of what’s inside. Instead, you leave it in the box, in the corner of the attic, because someone else said your heirloom was ugly.

It’s not a closet, it’s prison. Continue reading

simply love


I’m in love with me.
After fully falling in love with all of me, I fell in love with she.
She caught me by surprise; never something I intended. Her beauty initially caught my eye. And then the wrinkle of her nose when she smiles real hard caught my heartstrings and began to play sweet tunes telling of the inner beauty she held within. The words she spoke, less than eloquently, but intelligently and with sincerity caught my mind. The confidence and truth in her words, often replying in my head, caught my respect. And respect led to trust. And then I found myself in trust, and then I found myself on a free fall, all in, without hesitation. In this I learned something new. When the fall is right, and when the fall is good, you never quite reach the “fell”. The falling in love is a continuous experience that can, and did with she, happen over and over again. Getting butterflies still at the ringing of my phone. Smiling involuntarily at the sound of her laughter. Every new discovery of her mind, persona, aura, causes me to simply fall again as if for the very first time.

I fell in love with me completely, and then enters she… Continue reading

Is…

Love is age? Love is gender? Love is race? Love is religion? Love is nationality? Love is family status?
“4Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”                                                                      – 1 Corinthians 13
Think about it. Happy Sunday

beautiful dreamer…

  

It’s like waiting for natural disaster. You know it’s coming, you can’t change it, all you can do is brace.You feel sorry for yourself, but mostly feel angry for being where you are in the first place.

You blame someone else for their lack, and blame yourself for your excess.

It reminds you of being stuck between sleep and consciousness; not quite being able to land on either side, but wanting to so bad.

It involves a wanting, a longing, a hoping…but knowing the day may never come.

It requires continuous efforts of staying afloat even when it seems like sinking is inevitable.

It’s scary.

It’s scary good at some times, but then you remember how simply scary it is.

Short of breath from the good, short of breath from the possible bad; you’re never exactly breathing.

Waiting to exhale.

The “butterflies” in your stomach so intense at times that it actually hurts.

Tears leading to laughter, and laughter leading to tears.

So uncertain.
It’s like waiting for sunrise and nightfall simultaneously.  Continue reading