Take twin mounds of clay,
Mold them as you wish, you may.
Shape one mound after me,

Shape the other after thee.
Then quickly break them both,

Remix and remake them both.
One will be formed after thee,

The other formed after me,
for,

Part of my clay is thine,

Part of thy clay is mine.

He was messing with her head yet again. Nora knew better than to take things to heart and start crying for that man. And yet, when her eyes welled up with warm, salty tears that trickled down to her lips, she knew she was in for a rough night.
A million thoughts swirled about in her mind, and what dominated those thoughts was the pain she felt. Deep inside her chest, her heart ached and cried out for him. It never made sense to her that she
should cry over something so trivial.
Trivial, for him. She would never associate the word trivial with anything related to him. Every word he spoke, every action and everything about him had no less than a huge impact on her life. She couldn't possibly understand why he wouldn't understand the fact that he was her life.

What was she to do? She didn't think it clever to give up her life to prove her love for him. That was just plain stupid and of course, she was a coward. Wasn't there an easier way out? She pressed on to that question as the pain lingered on.
Her body ached and she was tired as hell, not forgetting the terrible wave of flu she had been having for a week now. She lay on her back and lifted her arms and then her legs into the air, just to make sure they were still functioning. And that she was still alive. She kicked her purple and cream blanket aside furiously and frowned when she realized that she indeed was.

What had she done this time? She couldn't place a finger on it. She remembered him keaving abruptly while they talked about the Batman movies  They always had fights, but Nora knew that this was the first time he had left that way. And for what? Just because she wasn't her usual talkative self and was ill? She had expected a little sympathy and she got something way better..insensitive/ confusing behaviour, and this. A night that just wouldn't pass.
With her eyes closed, she tried counting sheep but her lids shot open before she could say 'five'. This wouldn't work.
Nothing would, in fact. Because as much as she tried to ignore the fact, it was true. Nora knew things between them were changing. She let her mind drift.
Two years, it had been two years and she still loved him with all her life. He would always be her top priority and she still would die for a minute with him even after all these years.
But she wasn't sure if he felt the same way.

She knew that he loved her, of course he did. She trusted him with her life over this fact. But it wasn't enough anymore. How would she make him realize that they had come a long way from being just a couple? He had become a necessity for her. Her friends would tell her that she was obsessed and though she would shush these accusations, Nora knew deep down that they were right.
She had become so used to him. So much so, that she would easily go without eating or getting any sleep at all, but a day without him would make her lose her nuts.
But did he feel the same way? She doubted it, but she couldn't blame him. He was the guy, after all. She liked to believe that all guys were like that.

If these walls could talk,
you'd know my body is dead,
my mind has been taken over,
that's why I am so scared,
I can't control it,
anger is making me blind,
I've been left here on my own
chained to a hate of some kind.

If these walls could talk,
you'd know about my fears,
about all those nights I screamed for help,
about all my fallen tears.
You'd know about the demons
haunting me at night,
you'd be able to help me
and keep my fire alight,

If these walls could talk
they would say that it's all right,
God sends His angels
to look over me at night.
They'd gently pat on me,
say though I am alone
it doesn't mean I'm on my own.
He watches me, from above
and showers me with his love,  

If only, these walls could talk.
(NM)

What I have seen in the past few days cannot actually be put into words and this is merely just giving it a shot. It's not easy to describe how you feel when you're locked up inside your house in your own country, with a complete warzone outside. Gunshots, explosions, choppers, chants, screams. Fear. Living in constant fear that a wandering bullet might reach your doorstep, or a loved one. Trying to zone out from the racket outside by playing loud music on your headphones. Constantly telling yourself to quit googling for updates just so you remain at peace for the next few minutes thinking that everything is alright.

It got better, of course. There's no more violence. There's peace in the country and yet, not in the mind or the heart. Nothing feels right. My smiles are plastic and laughs, weary. Why is my head so messed up? I don't know what to do to make this better. People seem to piss me off all the time even if all they're trying to do is being nice or express how they feel. I told myself that I need a break, but really, how many times has that actually helped?

I need to recover. A lot has happened, and what I've mentioned is just a minor part of it. It's too much to take. I've forgotten how it feels like to be genuinely happy with your life. To smile from your heart and laugh till your intestines start popping out.  I miss that. 

I hope I find my happy place soon. Because this IS too much to take. And I have a little brain.

No wonder my brother calls me a 'birdbrain'. =/ Sigh.

At the end of the day faith is a funny thing.
It turns up when you don't really expect it. It's like one day you realize that the fairy tale may be slightly different than you dreamed. The castle,well, it may not be a castle.And it's not so important - happy ever after, just that its happy right now..
Once in a while,once in a blue moon,people will surprise you ,and once in a while, people may even take your breath away.

 - Grey's Anatomy

Things don't always turn out the way you want them to.

That is all.

Feels nice to be back on my personal space. Wonder why  I quit blogging anyway. Till date, it has been the only effective remedy, a sort of happy place to my nonsensical whirlwind of a life.

So much has happened. So much to say, so much to do. Not blogging had made me feel claustrophobic. It's like I can finally breathe. What would I ever do without my words?

Its 3:22 am. I had a really bad dream. Actually, I really can't say if it's bad. It was.. strange.

So, I'm walking down the street with a cup of Starbucks coffee in one hand and a German Shepherd tagging along on my other. And it's weird because dogs bigger than the size of a tabby cat, freak me out.

Passers-by are staring at me for reasons I can't understand, just when the most adorable Chinese kid tugs on his mum's skirt and points over at me and says "Ma, why does she have blood on her shirt?" 

The mother walks up to me and gives me a hug. "It'll all be alright", she says and walks off. And I'm standing there, all alone in the middle of the street. The dog has wandered off but I still have my coffee and it tastes damn good.

I really don't know what to make of this. What does the blood even mean. And a huge dog? It's like it was guarding me from something. Like it just saved my life, did its job and trotted off. Very strange.

Anyway. Now that I've come back to this space , I finally feel better. I'm never going away.

"Joy can take care of itself, but to get the full value of grief you must have somebody to divide it with."
In this case, it's something, and it's you. Thank you, blog.

I think you can love a person too much. You put someone up on a pedestal, and all of a sudden, from that perspective, you notice what's wrong - a hair out of place, a run in a stocking, a broken bone. You spend all your time and energy making it right, and all the while, you are falling apart yourself. You don't even realize what you look like, how far you've deteriorated, because you only have eyes for someone else.

- Handle with Care, By Jodi Picoult 

2:45 am. Nobody that I love is online. Sipping on glucose, and waiting for Sehri. Perfect time for an update.

I love how the sky looks at this time. And how the only sounds I can hear are the clunks of my ceiling fan, the cars on the highway and the occasional cat purring. Beautiful.

The past few days have been nothing less than a turmoil. But right now? I can't feel a thing. It's as if my Intelligious Majoras has gone off to hibernate. Feels lovely to block out, and forget for a while.

I hate decisions. Mostly because I suck at them. Why can't somebody hand me a manual? If only I knew all the answers. Heh. 

Anyboo, life's okay for now. With the last few days of Ramzan left and Eid coming up, I can't help but flash you a smile with all the 28 teeth that I have. I had a haircut, I shopped quite a lot, and I just spoke to 3 of my best friends for more than 2 hours. Sigh. I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but I miss college.

And I know I said I hate making decisions. But, you gotta do what you gotta do.
Maybe it's true what they say, that you have to look at life through the windshield, and not the rear-view mirror.

Time for sehri =D. Be nice, love more, hate less. Oh Dee =P

Its 8 am and I'm lying awake, curled up inside my tiny blue blanket - a replacement for my insanely huge dark pink comforter which is at the dry cleaners.
I wonder why I give off unimportant information. Oh yes, maybe because I'm still groggy and can't think of anything else to write. Sorry.
But seriously, I can't wait to get my comforter back. =(