She was a short little, cheerful girl skimping around her backyard. Her eyes gleamed with innocence and mischief as she ran, giggling when her legs gave in and she fell to the ground. She was as happy as she could be, sadly, as she’d ever be. Time weaved itself into months, years and before she knew it, she was an awkward little thing in high school, eyes full of wonder and a heart bursting with the desire to try it all. Oh and that she did. From then life was a whirlwind that came and took hold of her, coercing her to be as wild and unpredictable as itself . And she let it. She embraced it with open arms and welcomed it into her heart like a prodigal son. The wild entered her heart, set up camp and got so comfortable that you could even find pictures of it hung on the walls. It gave her what she cried for, the idea of belonging. That’s how she got hooked. She was so hooked to the adrenaline that sometimes she would just sit back and and let it guide her like a GPS.She was hungry to fit in, blindly following a crowd that didn’t know where it was headed.
But the earth is constantly rotating around the sun, that’s why there’s a downside to everything. When the sides flipped the crowd left her in a ditch. Even the whirlwind packed up its bags and left.
It left her empty, void.
Young and wreckless.
Now she was young and restless like a junkie suffering from withdrawal symptoms. That’s what made her cling to anyone and anything that did as little as look her way. It was a fix she was desperate to have at whatever cost. Each one took his fill of her until there was nothing left to take, so they left. Everytime leaving her more broken than before and if possible, even more empty. Later they would share stories of how she was easy-to-use, susceptible, vulnerable. To be honest they wouldn’t be lying.

Finally, she got tired of being a casualty and climbed out of the ditch.
Then in her twenties life took her through different stages and like a game of Temple Run,
she crawled through them,
stumbled through some,
took sharp turns and other times she just plainly ran,
Ran out of words,
out of ideas,
out of friends.
Unbeknownst to her, something inside her was changing. Sure, she was still a broken little girl, limping from time to time and struggling to find balance. Only she wasn’t waiting for something to lean on,she wasn’t counting on a helping hand. She was starting to appreciate all the parts of herself she had so easily let others depreciate. She was rediscovering herself like a long lost relative, reintroducing herself to family and friends.
So now she ran,
Into new faces
Into new ideas
Into love,
Into perspective.
She was evolving and she knew she would be different in each stage and that was fine. Sometimes she was a perfect extrovert, getting acquainted with people faster than the speed of light.
Other times she was an introvert who preferred to bask in the sunshine of her own company than going out to party.
Some stages required her to be fierce and assertive. Others soft and sensitive.
She simply rose to the occasion.
She adapted

That’s what I loved about her, how she could take up any form or shape the situation required of her. She was, liquid.

A liquid is a state matter without a particular form.It changes with ease and moulds to its recipient. The human body is 70% water.

Vis a Vis

You can’t be one rigid character in this life. You can only hope to keep your original principles safe as you rise to the occasion.


I loved to lose myself in the throes of my imagination. To see something beyond the obvious. To imagine something so mundane and remote to reality. I could feel myself floating, other times drowning in my own thoughts. Not even time travel could be as exciting as the journeys I took. I was gliding from one realm to another , hastily at first, then once again like a forensic, exploring each small detail, searching for the prints I left during my first visit.
See, when you have something so deeply etched to your imagination, you begin to think that’s the only place you could find it. You begin to treat it as if it were a secret haven, a place that you can only visit but you can’t bring home. And that’s what I did. Despite all of my expeditions where I flirted with madness, I still couldn’t imagine bringing my safe haven home to be a reality. I couldn’t imagine the two worlds being synchronized into one.

But the amazing thing about life is that it was the kind of movie no one could ever spoil for me. It didn’t matter how many  trailers I had watched, life would always find a way to twist the story. It had the kind of unpredictability that forced me to improvise. It forced me to find forces within me that I never knew I possessed.
Suddenly I understood the law of inertia in a way I never did in high school.It was like listening to a heartbreak song before and after having had your heart broken. I could now relate. I had reached a point where I couldn’t continue moving in the straight line society had made for me. I couldn’t be safe and stationary anymore, I wanted to explore the line between my dreams and reality. I was getting too big for the cocoon . I had reached a turning point, a different state of mind. This was a time of sublimation with me as the sublimate. I had reached what I could only describe as leaving my state of inertia.
Only this time it wasn’t an external force that pushed me to embark on the journey of self discovery, it was an  internal force. A force I never knew I had because life has a tendency of waiting for the right moment to leave you on edge.
It leaves you at a point where you have exhausted all the conventional way of solving issues and you have no option than to use your wildest card.
So when life left me on edge I understood something I had missed during that boring afternoon physics class.
I wasn’t safe anymore,but I was free.
Free to be hit by any external force.
Free to make unbiased life decisions.
Free to make mistakes of my own.
Free to delete any toxic mentalities.
Free to adapt.
Free to be.
And freedom was imperfection, but the greatest discoveries in history came from mistakes and at that moment all I could hear was my heart whispering, “Eureka“.

You can’t conform.
You can’t go on being whatever is necessary.
I hope you have found or are close to finding a way to leave your state of inertia.


Last night I thought of you as I watched the gentle September rain from my bedroom window a little past midnight . It fell steadily, the most gentle pitter-patter as if it were afraid to wake the world as it slept, as if it only wanted to be a background act, a back up singer just loud enough not to divert any attention to itself, yet an essential accompaniment to buffer the silence of the night. I watched it fall for a blissful hour until it disappeared just as swiftly as it had come. The moist ground was the only sign of its secret visit. I stood, rooted to my spot by the window long after it left, mesmerized by the uncanny resemblance.
Love, I thought of you.
I thought of how you cry yourself to sleep each night, softly, in silent sobs buried in the feathers of your pillow as the world sleeps soundly. For an hour the world is yours to pour your heart into. For sixty minutes you could freefall into the pools of the numbness that is your pain. For a time given at a rate of three-sixty seconds per hour you could face your demons, you could FEEL .Yet you choose to break yourself down piece by piece, pour your heart out in careful, calculated, almost symmetrical portions. You fall, slowly and carefully as if you could control the speed of gravity, skimming through the emotions, scratching only their surface, terrified their depth might consume you whole. Finally when you’ve had your fix for the day, you swiftly weave the pieces back together into something acceptable.
Only the moist, creased pillow remains evidence of your routine after-dark despair. It’s a little silent cry for help after a long day of saying the right things, walking the right way, conversing with the right people. A long tedious day of being ‘fine’.You spend each day word for word to the script, with the pieces you so hurriedly brought together on the verge of crumbling.
But I see you.
I see you jog around the block each morning. I see the path your tears traced in the night, down by your nose, branching into small tributaries around your cheeks as your sobs intensified.
You’re a ticking time bomb, a time capsule on its last minute, slowly emptying out its last bit of sand.
I wonder how long till you’ve nothing to lose. How long before you shout and scream, not sob and sniffle? I shudder as I wonder how long it will take before you give in to the temptation of ending your peril in a few milligrams of ecstasy.What happens when you can’t or rather, when you won’t keep it together?
But all I can do is pray.
Pray that perhaps this isn’t the only possible outcome.
That just like the soft September rain, may your tears evaporate as the sun rises. May they take some of your scars with them. May you never have to hide the ones that did stay. The ones that were left behind.
I pray you find a limitless outlet for your anxiety. I pray you get well soon, of what started as just,
A ‘twenties’ fever.