The Cliched Croissants.

Winters are here and I love mist and the melodrama that comes with it. So I haven't been able to write a poem for months and all it took was a 2:30 minute song by Adele to write this down and if you're looking for inspiration, she's the person you need to go to. But before you read it, I need to ask you this one thing..

Did you all get your someones to lean on? If you didn't, get them before it gets too cold OR, a latte maybe?

This is how the story went..
When I met someone by accident.

I thought I could do better without you by my side,
But then we made history every night.

I would've asked you to warm me up and hold me like your favorite cushion,
With me just lying on top without the wrong intuition.

This is how the story went,
When I met someone by accident..

Turning texts on whatsapp into calls that strapped us broke for the rest of the week,
Days into weeks and months into years, just by looking at each other. So as to speak.

A cliched romance dipped in hot chocolate sauce,
Conversations that went around trigonometric functions of sin and cos.

"I never thought we'd be like this." I said with a tint of blush,
Who was I kidding? I could always write him poems, even with a paint brush.

So this is how our story went..
When we met by accident.

No casualties with no signs of hit-and run,
Wait. Was this orchestrated all along?
Even if it was, who cares because I got my someone.
Even if, in arguments he proves me wrong.
Even if, the asshole's someone I can never outrun. 

About what I said, 2 posts ago about the mistletoe and love?
Well, I second that because LOVE brings out the best in you.

The Paris Attacks ; My Take.

I fail to understand why this happened. As an act of revenge or just out of insanity that drove the eight ISSI members to cause this disaster?
I FAIL to understand how can somebody have so much rage inside them that they bloody become capable of instrumenting such attacks.

I found out about the Paris Attack the morning of 14th November, while I was in the loo, checking my phone when I came across this hashtag on instagram that had been repeated, #prayforparis.

Thanks, to Google and the fast Wifi I pay for, I found out the whole story minutes later and I didn't even care to read WHY did the attack happen.
You know why? Because there cannot be ANY rational explanation for killing innocent civilians like that.

What bothers me the most is, WE are supposed to be smart. There's a reason why we sleep on beds with doors closed and animals live in the forests and what I feel is, we're starting to forget that reason.
We know better than murder and we know better than anger.
The actions of an individual or a group of individuals do not reflect their whole nation and every body of the same nationality.

We, as humans have divided this ONE, small world into so many pieces that we all have forgotten the one thing we all have in common, HUMANITY.

What happened shouldn't have happened and the lives that we've lost, weren't supposed to be lost.
The more pathetic side of the story is, that because the nations stood in solidarity with France, they're being claimed to be irrational in their ways of world peace.

I mean, 132 people died.
Can we, please, FOR once forget who didn't support whom and can we for ONCE stop pointing fingers and just give a minute of silence to pay our respects for the lives lost?

The Mistletoe.

Somebody once said to someone they love, "You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire you." and god, when did people stop saying things like that?

When was the last time you saw someone by a 100 roses for their lover?

Do you even remember the last time you eye-witnessed a flash mob proposal?

I mean, HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN?

To be honest, it bugs me. I mean, when the fuck did a lousy text saying "Hey you wanna hang at dominoes?" outrun the classic way guys had to go through so much trouble for one date.
Sometimes, I think we girls give away too easily.

My point is, when did classic romance turn into texts and when did phrases that would knock you off your feet turn into stupid emoticons?

I think love used to be so much deeper back in the 60's. I mean, all the shit women did to all the poor guys. My grandmother once told me how a guy who lived down the street stood in front of her house for eight months consistently even before she looked at him.
Also, guys used to be so darn romantic.
I know stories of how guys spent months looking their best, trying to impress the girl's parents for marriage and it's just not the case anymore.

I mean, are relationships these days that shallow that they don't even seem worth the effort?

Because how I think, fifty years ago or fifty years later, LOVE is always going to LOVE and there's no way that feeling of looking to your right, seeing him talk and smiling because you're so sure he's every thing, can change. EVER.

So bring out the romance people because if you love someone that ridiculously, tell them just how ridiculous you can be.
Also, take out the mistletoe because Christmas is coming and because
legend says, it's mandatory to kiss under them.

It's not enough.

I didn't get good sleep last night.

You know what I mean?

I mean, I was tired and I had to stay up and then when I was done, I couldn't sleep. I just couldn't sleep.

For the first hour, I tried tossing and turning around. You know, adjusting the pillow thinking it'll work even though it never does. 

When that didn't work out, I stared at the small portion of the ceiling that was ignited with the light from the window.

After another hour passed and I got up to pee for the fifth time, I realized, I was having trouble sleeping because five times in one night, and without beer, meant I was up for a long time. 

Then, I tried looking out the window where everything looked the same. 

For the last 2 years that I've lived here, nothing's changed actually and then I saw something..

Heard something*

Noises. You know, the sound of two people kissing and I realized the source of the noise was the room down the hall. 

I stood outside the door of the room, thinking who's in there because this room is supposed to be empty and did curiosity kill the cat?

I opened the door and I saw two teenagers making out and you'd think they'd be smart enough to lock the door if they're planning second base. 

Well, the cat was still alive, even though, it could be in shock.

You see, the girl was her little sister and the guy was her best friend in the whole wide world. 

So, how do I respond?

For a minute, I stood there thinking if it was a dream because this can't be real. 

I didn't even know they talked.

I mean, except the usual greetings when they bump into each other because of me, they had never exchanged anything. Not anything I knew of. 

Then, I thought should I be mad because my best friend, the guy who tells me everything and by everything, I mean, I knew his ex-girlfriend's entire lingerie and now he's making out with my little sister in my house and didn't bother to mention it. 

Then, I thought of my little sister. I mean, when did the girl who couldn't even go to the mall without my approval for her outfit get a guy who's 4 years older than her in her bedroom. 

For five minutes I stood there looking at them as they were cloth-hunting under the sheets and the bed. I heard noises and I saw their lips moving but I was so shocked and furious that I couldn't understand a single word they said. 

The sixth minute, I walked three steps inside, bent and picked up my little sister's pink bra that we bought together at the mall and I handed it over to her putting an end to the cloth-hunting. 

I turned around and marched down the hall back to my room when I felt a hand on my back. I turned and it was him. My so called best friend who didn't even bother to tell me that he was screwing my sister. 

I looked him in the eye, and he removed his hand and said four words, "I am really sorry."

I went to my room and lied down on my bed with the heaviest heart I had in years. 

Ten minutes later, he came into my room and asked me to say something, and all I could say was, "It's not fucking enough."

Betrayal. 

It makes you angry and gives the feeling of something burning inside your chest and you feel like it's going to crack open. 

It makes you feel as if someone punched your stomach so bad, you're going to puke. 

It makes you suffer from this pain, this excruciating pain, that doesn't end. 

Forgiveness isn't the challenge, forgetting is. 

Funnily enough, after he left the room, I tossed right and hugged my pillow, almost as if it were a person and guessed what?

I slept like a baby.