Checkpoint 11/4/14

Tough times ahead. Figured I’d remember what I need to remember.

Grace to remember not certain work, but certain behaviour is what is beneath me.

Humour, because one can never have enough of laughter.

Courage to smile on the days I can’t. Refer above.

Patience to wait till the next corner for life to throw a pleasant surprise. Or maybe the next. Or maybe the one after.

Wisdom to have faith. Funny, I should probably be asking for faith too.

“Pull no punches”. One of the best pieces of advice I got this month (I get a lot, being 22 and about to graduate and bookish).

To not bite may be virtuous, but to not hiss is foolish.

Again, wisdom. To realize I ask for this for myself, not for others. To realize that how I treat people is my choice, and how they treat me is theirs.

Knowledge that I am worth every bit of trouble I take (and get into, for that matter). Also, I’m terribly insignificant. That’s a tough one right there to wrap a head around.

But most importantly, to dare. Every. Single. Time. Forever.

My latest salutation. “May you have the odds in your favour and the gods on your side”.

And oh. Don’t forget to breathe.

The Nirvana of Nothingness

I wish you could see me now.

Standing at the edge, I'm almost, funny word, peaceful.

Which way?

I've been here often over the years.

At the depths of my darkness.

The place where it doesn't hurt any more.

So tempting.

Words don't work in this place. 

Neither do hopes, dreams and shooting stars.

There's a door here.

I either walk through or walk back.

I've been here often over the years.

So tempting.

Time slows down here.

I've always walked back.

Till now.

It's only me vs. me in here.

Which way?

You flip through your life, while you take you call.

Standing at the edge.

It lists out all that hurts.

It hurts because you love it so.

I can walk through.

But I can't take with me what I love.

And I love it so.

I can walk back.

But I can't make it stop hurting.

And it hurts so.

So tempting.

Which way?

Despair night

Feverish demon fingers,
Curling, clenching, clawing.

A long drawn moan
A beast wounded, the fight is done.

Despair night, rolling down the hill
Like a consumptive cough.

The stars wink down, content,
Far above from the beast, the demon, the fog.

Lives unnumbered, have been crossed by the stars,
Have the stars too been crossed by their lives?