Possessed- My book.

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So, have you ever had the beautiful opportunity to be scared in your life because of some unnatural, unexplainable event?

Have you ever been touched by an unseen hand?

Have you ever listened to a whisper by silence?

Can you imagine to be in a life of Conjuring where reality is far more worse than Conjuring?

Can you imagine a life of a girl who had to go through her whole life in such unnatural happenings?

If you are really interested in such a paranormal, mind-boggling thriller, head on to @wattpad and go to @LostIn2Sight and click #possessed, Only in #wattpad 🙂

This is an advertisement, I guess to myself because I want more people to know about the risk and clarity of reality. Because you believe in science, it doesn’t mean you are safe from Supernatural Science!

Read and enjoy 🙂

My first slam

Image result for abuse victim staying strong

I am gonna tell a story.

When I was young
And didn’t know the world was cruel
I somehow survived being myself. Then and now, A blessing; I guess.
When they teased me for being the biggest in class
When I wore spectacle as thick as me with a chain into class for the first time
And when I ate too much than they could fill in their stomach
I was teased, mocked and laughed at.
But, I used to stay strong
And laugh with them for the joke that shook my body, my belly
I never cried when they teased me or belittled me
Because I was never in reality,, I was always in a dreamland.
I was something else
Maybe that was how I coped with things-
When I didn’t know what love was, what depression was, what sadness was
Maybe I was too ignorant
And that made me smile all the time and sleep with dreams full of bogus glitters.
Oh, but, yes, I cried
I cried thinking about my mother
She was always being scolded by my father
She was always crying when we were never watching
And I cried for my father
Because he was always stressed in his workplace
He was always unhappy in his life
But he provided us with riches and things
But never happiness
Seeing our loved ones unhappy won’t make us unhappy
It makes us miserable

When I grew up to have little projections in my chest
It was the size of a cricket ball
And it wasn’t anything like the insect bites on my friends
And that got me attention
Lots of it
I didn’t like the projection but I didn’t know that it was my breasts
And that will attract man like a moth to the flame
I didn’t know it then
I smile like I did always
And I was touched when I smiled
I didn’t know it was wrong
He was speaking to me very clearly, jokingly, about his life in his hometown
And I miserably tried to get out from his hands because I thought he was playing
But they were held too tight and… I was touched.
I didn’t know it then
That he was sick and I was a toy
I didn’t know what he was doing.
Now, I know… his frame of mind was to be cleaned with acid and
He should be taught from the beginning how to respect women.
I was young. Only sprouting wings.
And he blemished my clean slate with a memory I can’t wash off.

I was never a writer,
It somehow stumbled on to me while I was learning a boring subject for exam
Beautiful strips of golden caramel oozed in through the windows
And like possessed by a foreign soul, I took up a pen and paper
And wrote about the radiance
And I became a writer- when my heart started to learn about fear, fat, ugly and depression.

When I was fully grown to a small woman
I learned about my body
And still feel irritated and hate the tingles that stay on my breasts thinking about that touch
I should have kicked him, scolded him, told my mother
But I never did,
Cause they won’t understand.
My young brain had this notion that they wouldn’t understand
Not because I had any experience that made me trust them less
But I couldn’t bring myself to tell them
That I have been abused by a desperate man in the grocery store that my father always shook hands with
I hid that pain and betrayal and sadness in my poetry later on.
You see, I am not a writer.
Metaphors are for insecure people who want to hide behind words.
Yet, I have been called a metaphor queen
And I have been said I didn’t understand what metaphor was.
But, I used metaphor like I used water
To hide my tears once I learned words had that sort of power.
I never wrote… I hid

When I was finally a woman
With feathers yet to be born,
With stones yes to be turned
And life yet to be understood
I know what happiness, sadness, and emotions are
I know what each makes one feel
I wish for the bubbles on my hands that connect with happiness, to stay forever.
Because he only comes once in a while
And sadness smiles and stays by my side, always.
He loves me every night and I sketch the feelings on my pillows.

I am not a writer.
I don’t know how to write.
How to plot a story and tell them effectively
Because when I started to write this,
I had a different story line in my eyes
But when I began, my heart poured words and I am ashamed that I can’t even bring out what I really want to say
But, my heart said all of this, so it’s true and I let it be
But I am ashamed
I know I will be read and re-read by many
Some will say, I said too much, it’s too long, you have grammar mistakes and you suck
Plain and simple; you suck
And I know I suck.
Should I nametag it myself?
I have been sucking my life for eternity
Because even when God created me beautifully in his eyes
My rolled out thighs and protruding stomach made it clear in the eyes of people, that I am anything but beautiful
And the people made it their personal agenda to make me feel
I am fat
I am ugly
I am big

I have no messages to share
I have no wisdom to pour
I have no ideas to dare
And I have no chances left to explore

But, somehow I did
I wrote in midst of all those sword slashes
And I wrote with ink from my blood
But that was not enough for people to understand
That I have already been through too many thorns
And I am already being shredded
I am something else… other than what I show
But, people won’t understand

When I finally learned to understand and learn to realize
I was too fat, too naïve, too shy and too misunderstood
Way too fat to shed some pounds
Way too thick to make some rounds
Way too naïve to make understand
And way too stupid to befriend with

And I was stressed by life’s personalized concerts
I was shredded in emotional downpour
And I was caramelized in life’s personalized hurricanes
I came to know about the riches of life
And only then did I learn that all this time, my smile was a fake mask that I wore
A fake mask that I wore to cover my frown lines
A fakeness that my own heart made for me so that one day when I sit and realize that life is not as I believe, I shouldn’t be broken.

I don’t know how to write what my veins convey
I don’t know how to write what my eyes are flashing to me
Yet, I am writing like a machine
And I don’t know how to stop
I have too much to tell
Too much to yell
But I am already swelled
And this is all leveled
The platform is torn
And I have no audience
I cry to my soul
Yet, my life is a hollow shell
I fell bloated, inflamed and shamed
I want to release my demons
But I am stuck with their marvelous tingles
I am stuck inside my own body
Shackled with words that won’t come out
I am stitched with my own chords
And I am being beaten up by my own fears
I crawl myself into a ball and listen to the rainfall wondering if I could ever call and be answered by someone
I want to be nurtured, to be cradled, and to be understood
By someone who can understand my heart.
My mother soothes me, my brother makes me laugh, and I am being loved
But never understood for what I really am
I smile and hide and laugh and cry
I am never understood
And I think, I will stop pouring words now,
Since what I want to say is not coming out
And I don’t want to cry when I stop writing this

I just wanted to tell you a story
But I ended up with just clipped scenes from my story
And since, I am not a writer
And I don’t know how to write
I will end this here
With a big yellowish smiley period

Apple tart melody and salted pillows as the stage- Meditation Fail.

 

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I tried meditating in the sun, pouring through dusty slits of defiance; while I let myself soak in the morning grace of Sunday’s profanity. Its bread and blasphemy for breakfast with a little bit of bitter truth, for syrup, you know. I don’t know how it’s supposed to be, but I close my eyes irritated by the incessant knocking of unmelodious belch that needed to move out from my dormitory. I didn’t let it go. I gulped down fresh breath of cheerfulness and rotated my head like a slow song. My eyes fluttered.

Is this how serenity’s supposed to be? With angry ringtones in the tip of my throat croaking ugly sonnets throughout the day while I tried to capture as much positivity that the universe’s throwing around. Well, I guess today is not my day to earn myself a tan. I once again tie my knot and sit straight with head poised like a statue wondering how long I should be seated like this to embrace solace.

Once, inside the tranquility, I guess… it will ease my tent and let loose the parachute in the wind. I don’t know where this is moving me, but I guess it has to reach somewhere the sky is always periwinkle and clouds soft as cotton candy. I ignore the dancing dust particles that look happy with the only attention they get when in the strip of lemon syrup. I blow hard; hard enough to disrupt their slow pacing around like elegant ballerinas. I did not open my eyes. I smiled.

I listen to the slow rotation of the minute needle. Like it’s taking a stroll in the greenest garden. I wanted to open my eyes and search for the finish point in which I will get my bag of crayons so that I can set to paint the future in one straight line and add too many colors for happiness. I deliberately ignored black and banished grays. I, also do not need white, since I am all done with stippling freckles in place of where the wetness have left stains. I am all done with jumping from this tense to that sense, since, I can never stay in one place. I seriously need that red dot to focus but all I see are too many happy specks dancing around. Some, even giggling.

I sigh, then open my eyes, slump shoulders, uncross legs, and roll my eyes at the decision of heart to relax. I dared to look up at the waltzing needles and gape wide… it has been only fifteen minutes since I sat down, dwindling in the strong morning rays. So much for peace and optimism. I threw my yoga mat and boosted the rotund fat belly of a black liar and shook my hips to the blazing tunes whilst I let it go in the shower.

Whoops, its wedding season here!

Featured Image -- 209Note to myself, this pic here!:D

True to my word, it is marriage season here in my part of the world. 😀 And I am seriously wondering how am I going to attend it all. It started from last week and it drags on to the last day of December and if I am right, I am sure I have a marriage in January.

wow, right?

Nope!

seriously, nope! Since I am already in the fat department, from the moment I can remember my body! may I add! All the food and wonders will only gain weight to my already weighted body and seriously, I am not entirely excited about all these marriages!

I mean, its fun, and its free food! But other than that, I have to face the mocking faces, the stupid questions, indirect insults on my body and direct mockery to the food I eat! Dang, I am one body shielding from too many bodies. Damn, I need the energy.

Though I have been fat my entire life and I am twenty-two now, so yea! Long period, and my dream, the foremost dream was to experience how it is to be slim! WOW, big ambition, yes, it is! I don’t want to be a doctor, I don’t want to be a business legend! I want to experience how it is to be slim and dress casually without fearing the bulging eye under my arms, on my belly and two pillars of my thighs! So, what was I gonna say!? Yes, though I have been fat my entire life and have been enjoying people’s damn comments on my body… I am strong and never… I repeat, never droop my head low and cry because of my fate.

I am fat, big deal! You are thin, so? So… If there are any people who are sorry for themselves for being fat… STOP PITYING YOURSELF! If you are fat because you can’t keep your mouth shut from fattening foods, then I should say, you really need to consider yourself! I am not blaming you not mocking you or anything. I am just saying you have a chance to be beyoutiful and healthy at the same time. It’s awesome to be yourself but it’s dope to be healthy and yourself, right?! I am sorry, I am not good at getting my points in the right directions! SO, don’t feel offended or anything! I am overly fat, so I know how it feels to stuff that next mouthful and promising that we will stop right then! 😉 I am in the unfortunate few who are fat from the beginning and have never been able to shed at least a few!  I think I am having some kind of virus to gain fat every few weeks :)) But trying is the new synonym for success! 😉

SO, where were we? Marriage! Yes. The holy night of squeezing two souls into one!

SO, yea, let me enjoy the colors, the mockery, the food and definitely the comments, “I will be single my whole life if I won’t shed some weight” Like that’s your concern granny gi!

Ciao, I am blessed to have my secret moments of ranting since I may be a huge blob of fat, but I am certainly not a superhuman who can stuff all the emotions in!

Thanks for listening to me Blog! I love you 🙂

Dear blog

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Ok, that sounds stupid. But I think I will keep it like that 😉

I created this blog with many ideas. Now… I am stuck. Stuck with no thoughts, no ideas, no words and definitely nothing. It’s like I am drained of everything. And that’ s true in a sense.

These days I feel so tired. I feel so drained and exhausted. I am writing a novel based on true events in wattpad and I am seriously getting disinterested.I am like wondering if I should just stop. But if one starts something… one should end it, right? I know where I should go with the plot, story line and all; but I’m seriously getting second thoughts about it.

So now, if only you have a voice dear blog, tell me, should I complete it?? Well, as you can see I am writing in wattpad and I am here in WordPress. So obviously there will be some connections, right? So, yea I am advertising my book 🙂 its free advertising. Come on, everyone gets a heart swell when some random reader from somewhere says, we have written a good story or poem or something right?

Now I feel stupid about it all. Haha, I am sometimes. The thing is when I am doing something I get many other ideas, inspirations, and thoughts which make everything jumbled and finally… I won’t be completing my first job and I won’t be saving any thoughts that sounded really good in my head.

Like right now, when I am writing my current novel, I get ideas for another book and I start writing the ideas of it and then I begin with the story completely ignoring the first one. Everyone gets that, I know… I have heard many say that. Funny… yea…

Anyway, I need to feed my stomach or my migraine will soar high and then I will be over exhausted as if I was the one holding earth.

bye bye, my dear. See ya soon 🙂

A mind vomit (Introducing AllPoetry)

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In the haze of fitness pleasure, my mind dwindled and I wanted to rant on about a moment, that I felt…..if only death would have been better. And in that dwindled hope, did I charm out myself in the dark hole of my own insecurities and I cuddled myself like a cricket ball and rolled back and forth, with only the feel of darkness hugging back.

I know the lines just came about and I don’t bother to check back and find the typos and for a person, who is looking for poetic details, shall not find any. Or maybe, I… without proper knowledge in English, will find myself too good but actually I was not even aware of the adjectives and noun I was placing. Language for me is the way of communication and I learned this foreign language with extensive reading and I am happy. Even though when my poems get applause, they usually say, you’re use of metaphors and placing of adjectives is astounding and I will be like wondering where this so called thing is? I know, even after reading this “mind vomit” people will applaud for either my way of saying unique things raw or my use of poetic details was immaculate, but either way I was meaning only my hurt and it was an accident that it came out gladly.

Freezing and sweating is a common thing happening to me, and I know not what to do of my body. My eating has rapidly changed course and I eat when I emotionally stressed and I never look at the portion. Thus resulting my curves and when I want to go out, the street will be all eyes peering in on me, saying, so warmly about my marriage and their affinity tugs a chord, but I have to smile….wildly and warmly…otherwise they will doubt some superstitious beliefs and I will in a deep hole of my own doubts.

It is not funny when my head slam too close to my screen and my fingers clinking away my rant, I feel uncomfortable…but, I have to vomit mentally otherwise I feel nauseated and want to end vaguely without any reason. Remember…social charms. To them, I am as happy as a parrot with a biscuit, chanting mantras and fluting songs to their liking…  Never shall they realize my heart, full of load, unable to dump because of society and then I mentally plan a poem with words raw and immaculate, leading to be a perfect anthem of mine and I sing it much too often in my brain, that I instantly snitch to a bloke, so hard that ‘a’ will never fit with a flower.

Besides the sun that sets in my heart always and never even bothering to let the moon rise for a nocturnal splendor, my heart is always dark and weary with memories too hard to digest and it stays bloated in my heart and my heart farts, shamelessly…loving each moment when a gold is right by its side. But, even them I realized, in AP, comment and acceptance is the king, thus the power of spotlight. Even if you have fifty medals in fifty contests, you will never receive a spotlight unless you have fifty comments with acceptance that shall nominate you and push you forth.

This has been pretty much the going on nowadays and I shamelessly and proudly say…ap spoiled me, in a good way.

ll

My valentine!

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I hear the town burst out with smiles
turning roses into cards, sighing out
my eyes wander out through the red
and I say, aren’t they so foolish
to fantasize!

I keep my breath and my pocket money
when the rose day passed I bought a bunch
I kept in under her pillows and said
“I love you!”

She must has seen in the mornings
for I saw it on her study table
I smiled within and I gave her a hug and a kiss

I walked out and there comes the chocolate day
even though she was diabetic, I bought her a tray
She kept it in the fridge and made a chocolate cake
and waited for me to come back and have a taste.

I let out a morning chill to the day so pale
the stars are gleaming red and also the town
I burst a few balloons and was chased by some loons
I took some roses and petaled the room.

And, finally the day has come
exchanging roses and kisses
I stood and stared!

I walked out into the middle and brought
My Mother on my side and dressed her red
took out my roses and flushed her with-
roses and kisses, that made her cry

I screamed to world she is my love
the only valentine I could ever have
can you show me someone who is better than that
And I will kiss your feet when you say that’s right!