The Night I Saw Him Cry

A very, VERY short story I wrote.
Just so you know, the narrator of the story has the power to let her soul drift out of her body, invisible to everyone. This is like those little fantasies you have about being there for the person you love: even if they don't want to tell you their problems, you want to let them know you'll still BE there for them. Always.

THE NIGHT I SAW HIM CRY

It was night. The moon was out and an endless expanse of stars spread out around the pale white crescent. I was standing in a tall empty building with the entire city in view. The windows should’ve run from ceiling to floor but no windows were there. It was just a ledge.

And sitting on that ledge, a few feet in front of me, was someone I could recognize from anywhere, and any angle. The boy I fell in love with. He sat there, quietly, looking down at the city, his curly hair (a little long) moving with the wind, making me want to tangle my fingers in them. I wanted to see his face, to see what kind of expression he had. Was he peacefully happy or intensely thoughtful? What kind of mood is he in when he’s alone and in a setting like this?

My soul drifted out of my body for a moment and glided over to his right, only to be jolted with a shock. Salty wet trails run down his cheeks, tears sliding so stealthily and noiselessly no one would’ve known he was crying until they saw his face.

My soul was back in my body the next second. I contemplated what to do. I wanted to know why he was crying… I have never seen him cry and his sister told me he isn’t the sort to cry. He is in no way a touchy or sensitive type. But more strongly than ever, I wanted to go hug him and tell him everything will be alright.

I followed my heart.

Suddenly I found myself wrapping my arms around him from behind. I hugged tight and stayed like that.

“I don’t know why you’re crying, and you don’t need to tell me,” I whispered. “But I want you to know that I am here for you and I always will be.”

A moment passed in silence. He must’ve been shocked by my presence, and my hug. Then I heard his voice. “Thank you…”

*****************

Hope that stirred up some emotions! I've left it at this, because it's perfect just the way it is. If I try to extend the story, I might ruin it. Why take that risk? Who the characters are, why they're in that setting, what happens after this, and everything left unsaid is all left to you, the reader, to imagine. Because, like I said, this is more of one of those little dreams we have, not meant to turn into an actual complete story.

Hope you liked it!

 

Unrequited Love

I don't usually write love themed poetry, but I tried it and I like it! So guess what the theme of my next few posts will be?

I think EVERYONE knows what unrequited love feels like. You care about someone with all your heart, and he/she is just perfect in all his/her imperfections to you. But sadly, the object of your undying affection doesn't feel the same way about you. *sigh* And you knew it all along- that's the worst part. But you're still gonna love them anyway right? Because this is love! You can't stop fantasizing about them, caring for them, wanting to always be there for them. It's an exhilarating experience! You know it's going to hurt, because they'll never feel the same way about you. Ah, this is unrequited love in all its grandeur, and all its agony!

UNREQUITED LOVE:

I see you there and my heart beats faster,

Faster than a racing horse.

And all I want is to be next to you,

By your side forever, of course

When I close my eyes and I see you

And whisper ‘I love you’ a thousand times,

I know the message will never reach you.

‘You’ll never like me,’ point all the signs.

But still I’ll continue to yearn,

Continue to dream and

Continue to think of you,

And care about you like nobody else can.

This is unrequited love in all its grandeur,

And all the feelings of flying and being crushed

Can’t stop me from loving you, no matter what,

And I’ll always remember that time our hands brushed.

No, I’ll keep loving you,

Knowing it’ll hurt me,

Knowing it’ll break me,

Knowing you’ll never love me.

This is unrequited love

In all its agony,

And I’ll love you knowing

You'll never love me.

Darling, whether you are a boy or a girl reading this, know that there will be plenty of girls and guys who will love you. And somewhere out there, your soul mate exists and your paths are fated to cross one day. Maybe this person just isn't worth it, because they don't realize how lucky they'd be to have you. You'll think to yourself a million times a day, "If only they understood, if only they realized! Oh, why won't they just open their eyes?" If they don't like you, it's their loss. It's not your fault at all, sweetie. So don't feel bad. It'll hurt. It'll hurt a DAMN lot more than you'll be willing to admit, but if they don't see your worth, they're not worth it.

Wish

Have you ever seen a shooting star and made a wish? Have you ever stared up at the stars in the vast night sky and talked to the tiny twinkling dots millions and millions of light years away? Have you ever poured your heart out to the heavens and wondered if the stars are listening to your story or if they're just turning a deaf ear to you?
This poem is about that.

WISH:

I sit here and I dream
And I wish and it seems
Like the stars might someday
Listen
I stare up at the moon
Stare deep into the gloom
Hoping the stars would
Listen
Are my goals but simple whims?
Are they but for garbage bins?
Or is it possible somehow:
Miracles!
Someday, I hope,
I pray, I wish,
I dream the stars might
Listen

Someday I hope the stars will hear me, and listen... Maybe, like it takes light a couple of years to reach us from far off bodies, it takes our voice some time to reach the stars. Who knows? For now, let's keep dreaming and taking baby steps towards our goals.
And when our story finally reaches those heavenly ears, you'll know, because that'll be the day your life will start to turn around. Be patient. When it reaches the right star, expect miracles to happen!

Fear

WHO LIKES LONG DRIVES AND TRIPS?
*Raises hand*
Long ones?
*nods head*

Okay, have you ever gotten that weird feeling then, in the pit of your stomach, when you're on a long trip away from home? Like, it could only be a few hours sometimes, but you suddenly get this fear, this queer sensation that something is terribly wrong but you don't know what! And the only thing on your mind is "I have to get home."

Anyone else ever gotten this feeling, or am I the only one?

This poem was inspired by that feeling.

FEAR:

There is a fear,
A silent fear.
It is buried deep in my heart,
Subtle and submissive.
The fear is of a nature
Unknown and incomprehensible.
It only comes out on
The rarest occasion.
There is a fear.
I know not of its origin,
Know not of its significance.
A fear of unknown importance.
But it’s always there.

YouTube Video: Like An Angel From Heaven

Heyyy! I uploaded my next song on YouTube recently, so if you wanna watch it, here it is:
Like An Angel From Heaven

It's dedicated to all my friends, the ones who have always been a great source of encouragement, hope, and inspiration! What would I do without y'all?

The lyrics are in the description of the video. You can follow along!

Friends are ALWAYS there for you when you need them. Maybe sometimes you don't realize it and think you're alone. But I guarantee someone is always trying to watch your back. ALWAYS!

When you lose hope, they'll be there.
When you lose courage, apparate next to you.
When you're ready to give up, THEY'LL COME AND PUSH YOU FORWARD!
They'll be your own personal guardian angel.
And you know you'll do the same for them.

Through fun times and the tough ones, friends will help each other out and be there to laugh and cry together. Not to mention, go crazy! (Seriously, lot's of people think I'm crazy as I am, but wait till they see me with my BEST FRIEND!)

So, yeah, THIS SONG IS DEDICATED TO ALL MY ANGELS OUT THERE! THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! I hope you like it. Comment, share, and give the video a thumbs up!

Heartless

ANOTHER LITTLE STORY I WROTE!

   The fall wind blew gently between the trees of Central Park. Kids were going home after playing, couples were walking through the park hand in hand, and here and there were a few dog walkers pulling canines big and small on leashes as the sun gently dipped behind the tall buildings over the horizon.

   A page of the evening paper flew through the air and landed on a park bench where a plain, average young woman sat feeding the birds and singing softly. The headlines read:

PSYCHOPATHIC MURDERER STRIKES AGAIN

YOUNG BOY AND GIRL BRUTALLY KILLED, BOY STABBED TO DEATH, GIRL SUFFOCATED AND THEN SHOT, FAMILY DEVASTATED

   "Oh dear, not another one of those cold blooded murders... What is becoming of the world these days? Innocent children being killed like that... It makes me sad," she said softly to the birds as she glanced at the paper.

   The birds chirped back.

   Mere yards away, hidden in the shadows of the evening light, a large, hefty man watched the woman. He wore dark clothes and heavy leather boots.

   There. She will be my next target, he thought. She seems easy enough. I'll follow her around and collect information on her. And then... in exactly three weeks... A cold smile stretched across his face. Your countdown begins now, he thought.

   The man was none other than the infamous, and all the same feared, psychopathic murderer whose recent exploit was detailed in the newspaper.

   Aristotle Barnes had been a bully since his school days, and had dropped out of school to engage in underground drug dealing businesses. He was a thief until last year when he killed his robbery victim, and now he kills for the fun and thrill of it. He selects a random victim, follows them around for a few days or weeks to gather information on them, and then murders them.

   And he just found his next victim!

   Aristotle followed the woman home that night. Creeping along the shadows, he saw her stop by at an old age home to spend time with the elderly, and generously give money to the homeless. Her home was a small apartment on the second floor of a little red brick building. She stayed up till late at night before the lights went out in her window.

   He continued to stalk her over the next three weeks. He found out a lot about the woman- whose name was Sofia Haven. He followed her to work (she was a librarian) and the park everyday, to the shops she went to, the old age home she visited every other day, ..... he stalked her everywhere. 
   The night of her execution finally came. Sofia arose that morning with a strange feeling in her gut. She did not know what it could possibly account for. As she carried on with the day's work, the feeling slowly faded and the thoughts of unease were pushed to the back of her head.
   At 10:30 that night she went to bed, unsuspecting of the fate that awaited her.
   By 11:00 she was fast asleep, dreaming.
   The door to her apartment creaked open. Aristotle had found her spare key when he was stalking her, and stole it to use on this night.
   Tip toeing across the hall and living room, he arrived at Sofia's bedroom door. Taking a deep breath, he entered.
   It was now 11:45pm. Aristotle stood there in the dark over Sofia's bed, who was in peaceful slumber. He stood there, knife in hand, ready to slit her throat and end her life. In fact he had been standing there like that for fifteen minutes now!
   He thought of the day in the park he heard her sing. It was a song about hope, hope for a better world and where she could help everyone. She was lively and sweet, and her voice was chocolate to Aristotle's ears. She was kind hearted and caring even to the birds and animals. 

    And all at once, standing here beside her bed over her sleeping figure, Aristotle realized he could not do it. He could not kill her. Seeing her kind nature made him want to go feed the birds and help people too. She had softened his heart. He did not know how, and didn't realize it until now.

   Sheathing his knife, he instead went to her desk, borrowed her pen and a piece of paper, scrawled something on it, and planting a chaste kiss on Sofia's forehead, quickly and quietly left the apartment.

   The next morning Sofia woke up to see a note on her bedside table next to the spare key she had lost a week ago.

You stole my heart and left me confused,

because I didn't know I had one

until I met you.

-AB

   Intrigued, Sofia wondered who her mysterious midnight visitor could have been. But she had to get dressed and go to work now, so she put the note aside and got out of bed.

   However, it was not long before she guessed who it might have been.

   It was all over the news- the notorious Aristotle Barnes had walked into the police station just after midnight and turned himself in! And when asked, he simply repeated that he lost something he didn't think he had till now, and was ready to accept his punishment and repent for his ways.

   A trial was to be held for him that very afternoon.

   Sofia looked at the name of the police station Aristotle turned himself in to. That's only two blocks away from my apartment. She remembered the note on her bedside table that morning. Aristotle Barnes.... AB.

   At that very moment, across town, Aristotle had just been awarded a death sentence. The court had listened, bewildered, as he quietly confessed to all his crimes and calmly answered every single question posed by them. It's not everyday you see something like this! A harsh man turned into something like that... could it be the work of magic? He had just one request. "If a woman named Sofia Haven ever wants to see me... Please let me see her, one last time, before my execution." And her name was instantly all over the media. The headlines read HEARTLESS MURDERER TURNED HIMSELF IN, ONLY ALLOWED TO SEE SOFIA! The internet exploded with people asking how this woman named Sofia Haven could have possibly changed a psychopathic murderer into this. "Could it be that Aristotle fell in love with her? Is love really so powerful that it could change such a person's heart?"

   And Sofia, of course, went to visit him the very next day. She had to know why, why her?

   When Aristotle saw her, his heart beat faster than a racing horse. And yet, there was sadness on his face.

   "I don't understand...," Sofia started softly.

   "I don't either," Aristotle replied through the glass that separated them. "But I couldn't kill you. And seeing you... Watching you all the time made me want to be a better man. I thought I was heartless. People have called me that for as long as I can remember, and I've done my best to live up to that name. But then... you stole something I didn't know I still had!" He laughed.

   Tears slid down Sofia's face.

   "I know I can't change now. I've committed too many crimes. I don't deserve life. I'm glad I was given a death sentence. I don't deserve to be given a second chance in this world."

   A pause. Sofia is sobbing quietly now.

   "But I just wanted to see you... one last time. To thank you, Sofia. At least now, I have changed. And I owe it all to you. Thank you."

   Sofia was covering her mouth and crying into her hand. She slowly raised the other hand up to the glass and placed it there. Aristotle raised his and placed it on the other side, on top of hers. His hand was far bigger than hers.

   Sofia couldn't think of anything to say. She could only cry because this was the saddest thing she had ever heard of, and she couldn't believe that it was she who had brought about this change in the former criminal.

   Then, Aristotle asked her to sing just one last song for him, a song of hope. And through her tears she sung a devastating song of a nightingale in sorrowful woes, but how hope would prevail and better days would come. And he listened and remembered her voice till the last second of his life. In his final moments he saw only Sofia. He saw and he heard only her soothing song, as he took his last breath.

THAT'S THE END OF THE STORY! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THAT! TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK IN THE COMMENTS!

  





Depression and Death

   Lately, there's been a lot of awareness spreading in the world about 'mental illnesses'. Depression is one of them. And, like many people, I too have experienced depression.

   Now, why did I get depressed? Different people get it for different reasons, but I succumbed to depression because of school. I got so stressed out about my studies and couldn't stop comparing myself to my friends and classmates that I was constantly sad. And this has been happening since 9th or 10th grade, but it was at its worst in 11th grade. I'm alright now, I guess. But I have three short poems I wrote last year when I was feeling depressed enough to contemplate death.

 

QUESTION FROM THE DEPRESSED:

Oh Sun, your rays are so warm,

You spread so much light,

You represent happiness,

You facilitate sight.

Then why, I ask you,

Am I in the darkness,

Submerged in cold and cruelty,

Tormented and depressed?

 

DEATH WISH:

Wish I could fall asleep and never wake up again,

Wish I could die and just escape to heaven.

Want to escape this hell,

To run away from this world.

Wish I could close my eyes forever,

Be in peaceful eternal slumber .

Allow darkness to engulf me,

To escape the darkness around me.

DEATH:

God, help me.

I’m going to die tonight.

I can already hear

The angels cry,

Ever so quiet

But ever so loud,

In my ear

When it’s time to depart.

I fear not oblivion,

I fear not the dark.

I fear just the pain

That will inevitably start

When my soul is torn

From this earthy body,

When I depart this world

For another abode.

 

To all of you out there who can totally relate, we've all got our battles. Just remember: you'll survive. You deserve better.

Also, don't even think of suicide. Dying is excruciatingly painful, I'm sure. And while it may last only a few moments for you, ..... you'll leave a permanent ache in the hearts of your loved ones. Don't do that.

Everyday is a new day. So start it off with a smile! And then, keep on smiling!

The Choice

   Growing up is hard. REALLY hard. Harder than it usually is for some people.

   People like me. 

   Why? Because some of us would like to preserve our innocence for as long as possible. We've seen what has happened to our friends and the people around us- how they changed along with everyone's views about them.

   Ugh. People are so quick to judge others these days. It sickens me.

   And childhood is filled with FANTASY, imagination. As I've said in a previous post on a poem called Imaginary Rain, I feel imagination is VERY important. So I'm childish because I would like to KEEP that imagination as alive as possible! But that doesn't mean I don't know about the things my friends talk about. You see, there are three types of teens.

1. Those that act according to their age, or at least mature enough (if not more) for their age.
2. Those that are a bit innocent (because they really don't know and find certain topics appalling), but are nonetheless mature enough for their age.
3. Those that KNOW everything but people think they are innocent because they are deliberately childish. And, well, they have a set of values. Like, I know all the bad words. I know what they mean. But I have a strict policy not to use them.
You know which kind of teenager YOU are.

   The thing is, the third type of teen is the one who constantly finds him/herself lonely because of the way they outwardly act immature. However, close friends of these people know their dark side. They understand ALL the jokes, but just don't let people know they know, making them great liars and actors!

   However, they find themselves in a dilemma about whether to act mature or not because loneliness is a terrible feeling. So this really short poem describes the dilemma.

  

THE CHOICE:

I am lost on a road between
Fantasy and reality,
Lost between the two worlds
I really want and really need,
Torn between two choices
Of what should and what needs to be,
Torn between two sides in the debate
My heart and mind are having.

   This poem can ALSO apply to a variety of other situations where there is an internal conflict when it comes to choosing between what you want and what you need.

   As Albus Dumbledore once said, "There will come a time when you must choose between what is right and what is easy."

   Hope you enjoyed this poem! Please feel free to leave a comment below. Share your thoughts and if you can relate!

Change

Change.
It isn't easy.
And as they say, old habits die hard.
But when you do change! When you finally manage to change something about yourself, how do you feel?

Does it really feel good? Or did it backfire?

This poem talks about how changing myself had undesirable consequences. See, I used to be an introvert and I never showed people my feelings or anything. But that made me lonely, and I wanted to change that. So slowly I began to show my true emotions a little to my friends and the people around me. Unfortunately, I have become emotionally weak now. I don't really know if that is a direct consequence of changing or not, but at the time I was writing this poem, that was what I believed.

CHANGE:

I am a city without walls,
I am defenseless against the world.
I used to be strong, then I opened the gates,
My sorrows for the world to know.

I used to be a boulder,
Nothing could make me move.
Then time changed and weathered me weaker,
Now I’m just sand in a groove.

The city I was wanted connection with the world,
So the gates were opened to public.
Slowly the walls broke down and crumbled,
Without knowing, I had weakened it.

A strong person who was cold,
Who would turn against the world,
Became emotionally weak.

Change can be a double edged sword.

 

Can anyone else relate to this? Has anyone else ever felt like a change has backfired in an unexpected way and has acted like a double edged sword?

I'm not saying change is always a bad thing. Contrary to that, actually, change is sometimes JUST what you need. However, it cannot be denied that we must take the good with the bad, and every advantage with its disadvantage too.
 

Bad Person Or Not: That Is The Question

A lot of times we come across mean people in our lives. You know, the bullies, the b****es and the a******s. (Excuse the language, but I've been told these are common slang words these days, and they're the EXACT words used by people to describe the kind of jerks I'm talking about here. Otherwise, I follow a strict rule not to use such unparliamentary words.)

 

We've all come across people who made our life hell at some point or another. But my question is this: are they really like that on purpose? Is EVERY single bad thing a person does to another person intended? I mean, I get that there are a few sadistic people who really DO enjoy hurting others and enjoying the 'fun'. But not everyone does this right?

 

You're probably confused. Let me explain.

 

I always try to be a good person. A NICE person. Friendly, sweet, helpful, caring, et cetera. But despite the fact that I never try to hurt anyone, I find that there have been a few times when I HAVE hurt someone! And it's surprised me every time, really, because people who know me should know better than to take my exaggerations and sarcasm seriously! And every time, I realize that, though it was not intentional, that person doesn't know that and probably hates me. And all of a sudden I'm a bad person.

 

THE GUILT! IT KILLS ME!!!

 

And that's just the few times I REALIZED I hurt the other person! Imagine how many people would have hidden their hurt? No, seriously, think about it. The number times you have felt bad about something someone did or said, and kept quiet. That's about how many people, give or take a few hundred, that YOU may have hurt in your lifespan so far.

 

Let me just take a moment to say to all of my haters out there that I'm sorry for any wrong I have done you. My deepest apologies.

 

When people hurt other people, there are chances that it wasn't meant like that at all. Unless they have a motive such as revenge.   

 

So what needs to be done?

 

Two things.

One, try to be more sensitive to other people. And if you realize you've acted contemptuously, apologize IMMDEIATELY.

Two, hone your powers of forgiveness. That's right, forgiveness. Why? Because the sooner we LET GO of things, the happier we'll be. Forgive and forget. That's the way to go.

The more conscious we are of how we affect the people around us, the sooner we start to build a better place on Earth.

The next time someone's given you the cold shoulder, ponder over the possibility that it may not have been intended. Don't jump to conclusions that the person is ignoring you or hates you or something.  Do not plot revenge.

And if it IS intentional.... well you go out there and show him/her how the game is really played!  

A World Of Art

When you google the exact definition of art, this is what you find.

The definition says it's something to do with artistic expression and creativity. But look at what Wikipedia says. It's something that takes tremendous skill.

Art is the intersection of both those definitions. Allow me to explain.

Let's take gift wrapping first. How the devil are you supposed to wrap a present with circular dimensions, such as a cylindrical box, or any other oddly shaped object? I certainly can't. But hats off to the people out there in the world who can do it PERFECTLY! While struggling to wrap a gift for my friend properly without unnecessary creases and crinkles, I realized that gift wrapping is an ART.

Let's move on to food. Have you seen Masterchef Australia? Some of those dishes are just so breathtakingly beautiful. I mean, the plate up is just straight up artistic! My conclusion? Cooking, plating up and serving is an art. Don't even get me started on cake baking.

Who would eat that? I wouldn't. Ever. It's too beautiful!



 

 

Writing, painting, drawing, story telling, acting... they're all art. But there's more, SO much more in this world that is art too. Even architecture! I mean, from extravagant medieval palaces to sleek modern skyscrapers, you gotta admit there's something beautiful about them that makes you unable to pry your eyes away. Even nature is art. Everything around you is the result of some skill or the other of some individual living thing or by the hands of god.

My point is, if you seek art for inspiration, don't go to an art museum or something. Look for it in the world around you. Everything in your immediate surroundings. Art is everywhere. Our environment, our planet, our solar system and the whole universe around it.

Everything is art.
 

Vengeance

OK so have you ever been separated from your friends? Like, all your friends are in one group, and you're forced to be somewhere else? So now you know you'll miss out on a lot of fun? And you just end up getting so mad at the person who made this decision?
Well yeah, that's the kind of situation that made me write this poem.

VENGEANCE:

You don’t know what it’s like,

You don’t know how it feels,

You don’t know what it means

To be disconnected.

You brought down your flaming sword,

Pounded your gavel in the court,

Passed your verdict without thinking.

Now all I want is vengeance.

Revenge, sweet nectar of my

Uttered curses that crossed my mind.

Revenge against your ignorant soul

That forced me apart from the whole.

 

There's a story behind this. But it's a stupid story, so I'm not gonna share it with the internet. I've long since forgiven the person who separated me from my friends for that short amount of time. But comment if you have ever felt this way too!