A Cold Christmas Jingle

Loneliness is not just a feeling or a circumstance but it's a part of your very being, melting into existence. Like the blood flowing through your veins. You may not notice it for long periods. But it's always lurking in the shadows. It might be advisable to have it out in the open. When it's walking step to step with you - familiar. When it can't creep up suddenly on a Friday night. When its there day and night - your solid companion every evening. A reliable shoulder to cry on. And that's not all.  You will share a few laughs too and have plenty interesting conversations. But when you put it away in some dark alley of your mind and have forgotten the cold caress of loneliness-it can be a little jolting. A stranger who has suddenly decided to pull a chair on your table and disrupt what you had thought would be a lovely joyful dinner. And then distrust and doubt hampers your feeble attempts at enjoying its company.

It's better to befriend it and always have it around, to never lose sight of it- lest it becomes an occasional but formidable foe.

And then all you can try is ridding yourself of it like the blood flowing in your veins. 

Lighthouse

It comes in waves. When was the last time you held someone and cried your heart out? Do you remember the moment? The person? How did it feel? That complete surrender and relief? It is so easy to tell oneself that you just haven't found someone worth surrendering to. But maybe all that talk about integrity and honesty and waiting for the right person is just hogwash. The truth something sadder and more pathetic. What if noone ever found YOU worthy enough to take in their arms while you let the tears lose, hold you while you ruin their shirt in tears and snob? Running noses don't always make for pretty damsels in distress afterall.

Being rejected for the upteenth time does not make you a martyr. It just makes your existence a little more miserable and pitiful.  All those moving- "strong and bold and independent", statements are nothing but moonshine. Because how many evenings will one spend alone writing attention-seeking-grovelling-pitiful-articles-about-love-and-loss?

Maybe the waves in me are just responding to the full moon tonight. Just a shout out to all the mad and the sad. Because sometimes that is the only thing you can do. An art you perfect- silently screaming as waves and waves of tears crush you from inside-out, while your pen moves flawlessly, calm and composed.