Of talking to Strangers

You listened.

I never intended to unload all my drama on you. I didn’t mean to burden you with what’s going on with me. But I did, I still did, because somehow you knew, you could sense that something’s up, something’s wrong, without me having to say anything. And I guess I was comfortable with talking to you, you made me feel snuggly comfortable even if we were countries apart. You’ve heard from me all that was ugly but you made me feel pretty, you made me feel perfect. You gave the soundest lectures. You made sense. You made me laugh by acting all silly during the worst times. You diverted my attention to talks of aliens and outer space which was kinda cool. You showered me with flowers. You made me feel safe and I’m sorry that you’ve to constantly deal with me and the rest of me.

Thank you. Just thank you. It may just be words, sentences, conversations, a chat thread, a voice message, but know that it means a whole lot to me, a whole lot. Thank you, really.

 

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(Photo: Tumblr)

xx

DMV

End Results.

Our mind is a treacherous place. Trust is a fantasy. Monsters we have returned to. Malevolent we have become. We speak without knowing. We act without caution. We are selfish. A dark lore looms just above sanity; a sudden push might cease us to exist. Our epiphanies come to be catatonic. Everyday a catastrophic calamity of thoughts. We are broken pieces of glass. A bleeding inevitability of being incomplete. The predicament of wanting to be at all places at once. The dilemma of being stuck in between, having to choose between what is right and what is good. A far reach to sanctuary, a silent cry for comfort, a hopeful breath for relief.

Persevering patience for an ideal. A longing for normalcy.

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xx

DMV

(Photo courtesy: Tumblr)