Tuesday, 13 October 2015

amor vincit omnia.

Circumscribing herself with everything she thought was her cluster of happiness, she kept looking for the one thing she couldn't find.

She had it all, everything she thought she needed.

Is all you need defined by what you think you need?

Sometimes there is an incompleteness, and you don't know what is it that could fix it. 

Few days later.

Sitting across a coffee mug was a boy in a black t-shirt, with the smile of a movie star. 
He did his hair right.
He wouldn't speak too much, just carry along with her conversations. 
He would often straighten up, especially when he had a point to make.

He could keep up with her intense sarcasm, without crossing the lines in between.

After a while.

As they left the movie theatre after not concentrating on the movie at all, she looked at him and saw that the missing puzzle had found its block. 

"If I give you up, to whom I'll go?"
There's more to life than fixing oneself.
Sometimes, fixing is about forgetting the very existence of everything-not-fine.

Thursday, 1 October 2015

there's truth in my lies.

Being broken inside makes you incomplete outside. 

No, she didn't look for flaws anymore, she had moved past them. This time she started being scared of her lies, 'cause they were now telling the truth.

It was like she was compromising with a part of herself, to make peace with the other half. 

But couldn't she realize that part of her would still be broken?

Not that she didn't like him. 

She knew he wasn't hers to keep. 

She was yet again doing the same thing, breaking herself, different piece at a time. 

“If only she could be so oblivious again, to feel such love without knowing it, mistaking it for laughter and bread with only the scent of jam spread on top of it.” 
― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief