sometimes people tel me that that you are too honest. almost blunt! but whats with being too honest. its the cult of extremist; either u r honest or dishonest. there is no such thing as too honest or moderately honest!
people only find you too honest when they are being dishonest themselves!
its something to think about...
Friday, June 11, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
WORRIES
there were times when i never thought i would come to this. today even the smallest thing make me worried. i hv lost the sense of differentiating between sadness and worries... everything that make me worried turn into sadness. sadness that is permanent.
Monday, January 11, 2010
~THE GOD~
days and nights, in awakening and slumber, for years, I worshiped him. staring at his feet and never looking up, I worshiped him. I never looked at his beautiful face, for I never had courage to do so.
he was my friend, my teacher, my enemy. he was god of my world. he is the fallen god of my broken world.
in the garden of flowers and fragrance, by the wooden bench, he stood beside me and took away all my power to resist and assumed all the rights of my life. the world looked beautiful with him or so i thought.
holding his hand and walking in the garden in the moonlight, is my favorite memory of him. he told me beautiful stories about the world. we walked in the garden for days and nights and I forgot if there exist a world beyond him and the garden, ah! the blissful thinking.
he said, he cared for me and i believed him, he said, he loved me and I believed him, he said, the world was nothing but him and I believed him. He called the day night and the night day. I believed him, because the world was nothing but him.
and the God disappeared and i woke up to a bitter reality, the claims, that i so lovingly believed were nothing but a lie, there was no garden but bare desert that he asked me to cross all alone.
he was my friend, my teacher, my enemy. he was god of my world. he is the fallen god of my broken world.
in the garden of flowers and fragrance, by the wooden bench, he stood beside me and took away all my power to resist and assumed all the rights of my life. the world looked beautiful with him or so i thought.
holding his hand and walking in the garden in the moonlight, is my favorite memory of him. he told me beautiful stories about the world. we walked in the garden for days and nights and I forgot if there exist a world beyond him and the garden, ah! the blissful thinking.
he said, he cared for me and i believed him, he said, he loved me and I believed him, he said, the world was nothing but him and I believed him. He called the day night and the night day. I believed him, because the world was nothing but him.
and the God disappeared and i woke up to a bitter reality, the claims, that i so lovingly believed were nothing but a lie, there was no garden but bare desert that he asked me to cross all alone.
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