I think the biggest issue I have with my self-image is that I don’t believe that I stand out.

And I don’t try to stand out either. I don’t call attention to myself most times. I am quiet, just listening—well, when I’m actually paying attention. But, I think the reason why there are people who are different from the rest—it’s not always because they want the attention from others—but to prove something to themselves. Or because they want to be whoever they want to be.

Not some poor imitation of their mother or father, brother or sister. Friend. Mate. Celebrity or even a fictional character. Instead, they take all of the pieces of the people they know and the experiences they’ve had to create a person completely new by the time they are adults.

They become their own person.

Life is a walkthrough on how to find yourself. What is our purpose in this world, and without realizing it, who will we meet and impact? Just as we get impacted by other people, we make a difference in others.

All I’ve wanted was to make a difference in someone’s life. Positive. Not necessarily to the extreme of saving their life. But have someone glad to have me in their life. That I truly mattered to them. Helped them be better.

But the thing with that is, it doesn’t look humble. Showing humility is doing things for others without asking anything in return, even credit. You do things for others because it’s the right thing to do and another important factor to remember, is that no one should define our importance.

That’s my trouble. I don’t think I am important. Like air. It’s there, but not noticeable to the naked eye. The air comes in gentle breezes, in quick gusts, storms. It is more than what it seems.

I’d like to look at myself in at least that perspective. I am more than what people think of me. I undermine myself quite often, and people underestimate me a lot too—because of my tendency to be naive or “innocent.” I’d be the first to admit that I don’t know everything, but doesn’t mean I don’t know anything.

And I have time to grow. If God, time and space will permit me. Because of course, you’d never know how long life will last. So it cannot be wasted.

And it’ll start from within.


Perhaps the poppies were our only option

for fully sleeping. Sleepless nights still

abound. And I sometimes wonder if I will ever

have the pleasure

of meeting you.


True, we were always in want.

And yet. Neither of us was ever satiated;

that hollow space full of yearning 

and empty of sentiment.

Simple sallow shades were all that remained.

And soon, we grasped at that nothingness

hoping it would fill a space that didn’t exist.

We never slept. We only waited for dawn 

to tell us it was over. And so,

perhaps the poppies really were our only option for sleeping.

That opium allowance to fade away every edge 

until we could reach that deep dark sleep

where the inky shades weren’t us anymore 

because we no longer remained.



Its been awhile, I usually save my blog posts just for Tumblr and some of you have access but whatever.

I’ve come to a point in my life where I’m so fortunate that my only woes are now superficial desires and memories of events passed.  I used to swear that I would live my entire life without a single regret but such was the idealism of youth.  Its a naiveté I wish I still possessed, along with other things.  

A lot happened last year that I won’t hash out here because you guys already know what went down.  Despite all the trouble I got into as a kid, I thought I’d seen enough, knew enough to know what I was doing.  I didn’t then and I don’t now.  I trusted my heart and it bit me in the ass.  Real life is ugly and tragedy comes in with such overwhelming darkness that I never thought I’d escape it.

But I am, and I guess that’s what I’m saying here.  The clouds are lifting, most days I am able to feel joy in the same ways that I used too before everything happened.  I have the incomparable gift of being able to start over and go forward without repeating the same mistakes.  Its difficult, and I slip up.  The thing about tragedy is that it takes as much as it gives, while lending not enough to your wisdom.  Lord knows I wish I had come out of all of that with the infinite knowledge of exactly what I’m supposed to do but unfortunately it doesn’t work that way.  I still knock my head sometimes and have to remind myself “girl, you’re young still, still learning, still learning, its okay.”  

This life has been no holiday, a complicated situation after the other.  We don’t get a limit on how much pain we see and experience and that’s a difficult thing for me to swallow.  I promised myself no one would ever take away my right to consent once and it still happened again despite my own precautions.  In 21 short years I have had more suffering than many much older people have ever experienced and the reality of it is that there will be more.  Knowing that makes it hard to get out of the house somedays, PTSD sucks, but life goes on.  I’ve gotten to the point where that hole that I was in after everything that happened seems surreal.  I can talk about it (to a degree) which helps, and I have accepted that people will always respond the same.  The shock, the pity, the questions, more pity, “I’m so sorry”, and the change in the way they look at me.  I can deal, its okay.  But they always say the same thing “I don’t know how I would survive anything like that” and I’m always surprised at that response, as if I had a choice.  What else could I have done?  Life is short, it continues whether you want it to or not and because of this, there is nothing but survival.  When faced with my own mortality in the moments that he tried to kill me, all I could think was “God, please don’t let me die.  Save my life and I promise I will go forward and I will be better.”

The thing about misery and giving up is that they are the privileges of a spoiled child.  I cannot ever again feel the pain that I felt last year.  Its not in me, if it were I’d cut it out.  I don’t want it, don’t need it to make me human or validate myself.  Living in hell was what made me realize that I would literally give anything to just experience the simplicity of peace and contentment, ideas that as a child, I was wildly opposed too.  So I have fought with everything in me to achieve the normalcy that comes with trivial displeasures and equates them to suffering.  The closer I come to regaining possession of my own body and the ability to let people into my life, the more joy I feel, knowing I am accomplishing my goal.  This is my gift, the second chance to do it right, value everything and reject all bullshit that won’t bring me genuine happiness.

I’ve thought a lot about who my daughter would have been if I hadn’t had my miscarriage.  And I know its weird to assign a gender to a broken limbs of fetal tissue that I flushed down the toilet but that part is as real to me as she is.  I am nothing short of grateful that I am not a mother as it has never been what I want, but death is still death.  I try to tell myself that the soul of my child was shipped right back up to Heaven to wait for a family that deserves her, and while that notion might be ridiculous, its played a tremendous part in my own healing process.  My second chance is hers as well, and in the event that one day that soul becomes a body and that body’s path crosses mine, I hope she’s proud of me. 

The King of Kings

A man came here like no other,

My King, my lord and my redeemer,

Who am I and why me?

I am left to wonder

That a man should die,

To save me dishonour.

I am ashamed, quivering and anguish

Oh lord is cast upon me…

To know that you died

For a sinner like me?

All praise and honour I give unto you,

My king and redeemer,

I give my life back to you.

You saved me from sin,

And dishonour within,

I am at your mercy,

My Lord,

My King of Kings.

You gave me new life,

And redeemed my soul,

I love and adore you,

And must let it be told.

I will make it my will,

To let the world know,

That your love for us cannot,

Be bought nor sold.

For none have seen,

The paradise he’s promised,

If only we believe…

He came here to die,

And because of his love,

We shall dwell together,

With the almighty above.

Make him your king,

And let him be praised,

And goodness and honour,

Shall follow you always…



Moms know everything.  She knows I’ve been gone a few times this past week and that I’ve snuck inside (sometimes not so quietly) long after four in the morning.  I think she knows I’m not drinking or doing drugs but I’m not sure.  Sometimes I wonder how bad she thinks I am.  A few days ago she was angry at me for thinking that I would host some wild party while she’s gone.  Mom, when’s the last time I’ve come home stumbling and slurring?  Have I ever come home stumbling and slurring?  I’ve been feeling high for days.  I’m in this chill mood and I can’t seem to snap out of it.  The only times I’ve been able to fully be aware are those moments when I’ve been with him.  It’s not that life is better or more exciting with him but my mind switches to living in the moment mode, which is really hard for me to do, even in yoga.  This is exactly what happened with the last boy.  I’m there; I’m really there and sometimes I feel so much I need to step away from him for a moment to fully absorb my emotions before they overwhelm me.  We would have great sex.  Maybe.  I mean, he’s the first one who’s waited for me and listens to me and doesn’t keep asking me if I want to have sex after I’ve said no.  I don’t know if I’d want my first time where I’m not pressured to be outside of a relationship, though.  Last night I was weighing the pros and cons but only for a moment, before he swept me back to being with him.  When I walk outside, the morning after, the world is so beautiful that I can barely stand it.  I never notice unless I’m really alive, living in the moment.  I asked him why he liked sex and he said a million things and they overwhelmed me.  I’d never thought of any of them before because I’ve never been in the moment and I’m too distracted by what happened in the past.  He’s missing something, though, something that he had.  It seems you’ve never been in love.  Maybe it’s for the best because I’ve never been in love, either.  It won’t be special but it might be nice.

I wrote this to a girl that said she didn’t want to be involved romantically anymore

If I told you exactly what I wanted in this relationship, I wouldn’t even know where to start. I can’t get close to people easily, years of emotional fucking turmoil has gotten me so jaded I find it hard to share love, hate and any other emotions besides sadness (not because I’m a pussy  but because everyone knows that feeling so well it’s impossible to forget). Anyway I had only wanted a fuck at the beginning of course, but regardless of what was though by anyone (especially yourself) I had grown to care about you quite a lot. It may have been hard to see under my off-putting defense mechanisms but I think it was most obvious when nothing was being said.  I often stared at you just thinking about your features and motions and the like with a reproachful look returned to me. I would have liked to continue seeing you on a romantic level but I don’t think I will see you at all because I don’t want to/cant not think of you in that way. My fondness for you will lessen eventually, preferably soon because I hate the thought of me thinking about you and you not returning the favour. I wish there was something i could do. I look forward to not seeing you, but seeing you when I interact with anything that I can relate to you… I’d like my Rooney shirt back please, but keep the really soft sweater



Submitted by http://cassetteimploder.tumblr.com/



Pause.  Think for a minute: will you really be truly happy if you lose those last ten pounds?  The answer is no.  You won’t be happy.  You’ll be wondering why you still look like you did when you were ten pounds heavier and why you’re old clothes still fit and why you don’t look as skinny as you thought you’d to be.  Then you’ll be wondering how you’ll maintain your weight, since you’ve been slowly starving yourself for the past few months, eating nothing but protein and vegetables.  You’ll be exhausted and you’ll wonder how many more days you can spend three hours running while you’re still on your six hundred calorie diet.  You might even try diet pills… or worse.  They won’t work, though.  They won’t give you what you really want.  You won’t be happy until you accept your body for what it is.  Look in the mirror and see that your body is your body and you need to take care of it and be kind to it and love it.  It is yours.  You need to take care of it.  It’s your responsibility.  Treat your body with respect.  Learn to love yourself.

Written by health enthusiast, vegan and yoga master, PeacockFeatherz.  

A lovely evening with a pretty lady in singapore!

My journey from India to Singapore , was for the purpose of my convocation , my master’s degree . That day ,ofcourse was special to me , meeting with old friends , who have moved to different parts of the world , and had come all the way to attend the momentous occasion . The memories of old times to be revived once again .Among all these things to meet old friends , attend the convocation , revisit the places where we had spent a lot of time together , was the moment of meeting my date , a special lady who is studying in singapore . That night was special , had to get gifts for her , my first date with her , met her near  clarke Quay , wanted to spend a romantic evening with her , so had planned out things accordingly .I took her for a boat ride , and then for a dinner at chijmes , a very lovely and one of most vibrant places in singapore , and best place to spend some time with the person you want to know better , the only reason for all this was i wanted her to remember that moment , the time which she spent with me. After having dinner , i dropped her at her  residence. It was a lovely evening , i had with her .The moment has been captured in both our memories , and like the memories which i had revived on the day of my convocation with my friends , i hope and if its in our destiny , would like to revive the memory with her again , some time soon.

If I was given the chance, I would start this night all over again. I’d step back and think of what I had to say before blurting it out like an outrageous baboon on shrooms. It hurts me that you are even considering distancing yourself from me just because you’re afraid you’ll get hurt. I’m terrified and it was just stupid of me to even joke in that way. I just wish to make it better. 

It’s not always the male in the relationship who messes things up. Some times the guy in the relationship is the one hurt and the girl is the one screwing things over. But you know what, I’m going to make it my goal to make you feel like a King again. 



A gentle kiss on the nose was all it took to send shivers down my spine. Maybe it was because I knew this would be the last time, that this would be it. I always thought love was meant to last. But I guess that was the difference between you and I. I couldn’t understand how it was so easy for you to walk in and out of my life. And there you went, too far out of reach, too far gone to feel my love.

Submitted by supahsulay.