sublime-ape

You're my rock, she says. But I have rough edges and jagged corners I hurt her when she hugs me.

what terrible malaise is this that paralyses my being, robbing me of my will to live and negating all feeling give me fire and brimstone, ignite my placid heart, set ablaze my satisfied soul, let it shower down in sparks let me howl in agony let me scream in rage, for living without passion is a fate worse than death.

love doesn't belong to you or me, love exists for itself. we are just wind-blown leaves and random bits of paper fallen in love caught in its meandering flow sometimes rushed, sometimes slow you and i are prisoners of its eddies and currents, its whims, its fancies you get snagged, i float on, you get free, but i've moved on... one thing is certain: the ending: we all sink from the weight of our expectations and love? with or without us, love goes on.

"The woman of my dreams" And you (choose to) forget that the dream dreams you, not you the dream "Living a dream life" Yes, you are the hero, but not yours the script And you don't know how it will go, nor how long it will last, nor how it will end "And then I awoke" With only a fleeting memory fading fast like wisps of smoke from your grasp "So beautiful it made me cry" And though the tears are of joy, All you are left with is despair.

A shudder passes through his body, and she hugs him harder. "Let's stop and take shelter somewhere, or you'll catch a cold." "Hah! I've ridden in far heavier downpours than this. This is nothing." Forced bravado, and he knows it. It's getting icy cold, and they've been riding too long in the rain. His hands are frozen and the shivering becomes uncontrollable until he can no longer hide it. "Please let's stop. Look, there's a tree. We can stand under that." The worry in her voice makes him stop the bike. He parks it at the edge of the road, and they stand under the tree, drenched to the skin, dripping wet. The foliage above doesn't offer

Moving, moving, moving, the world is swinging, swinging, swinging in rhythm with his walking, walking, walking. The buildings are bowing, bowing, bowing, the lampposts are thrumming, thrumming, thrumming, the sky is swaying, swaying, swaying, the earth is humming, humming, humming. The world is swinging, swaying, dancing in rhythm with his steps. "Watch out!" A hand roughly grabs his shirt from behind and pulls him onto the sidewalk. A bus roars by so close that he can feel the wash of breeze left behind by its wake on his face, and his shirt flutters in the wind. "Didn't you hear it?" asks the man who has just rescued him from certain de

"I've seen her. She's one ugly cow." He scowls at the crass colleague who has made the comment, and keeps scowling until the crude man slinks out of the room. Then he turns back to the phone and takes the call. "Hi, good morning." "Hello!" comes the high-pitched voice. "Good morning, how are you?" "Fine. And how's the day treating you so far?" The girl's voice at the other end goes on to tell him how she got stranded in traffic and that it caused her to be late to the office. Thankfully her boss is a sweet man, and didn't complain. And so on and so forth. He's not listening to the words she says. He is entranced by the sound of her voic

you are the poison that makes my throat blue. i cannot expel the sweetness of who you were, nor swallow the bitterness of what you have become.

I woke up dead. A crow flew down, hopped about, and settled beside my head Feast, my friend, I said. He cocked his head and looked at me with a suspicious eye: Why? Eat, I said, before larger birds descend from the sky And deprive you of your share. Why do you care? I believe it's only fair, said I, That every creature gets its due: Be it eagle or hyena Or an ordinary chap like you. Oh? And what about the worms? the maggots? Certainly, I meant them, too: All are equal in my eyes. He seemed to ponder gravely, Then said: You are indeed wise... A rare condition for a man who thinks he has died. What do you mean? cried I, Do yo

progression of a successful love story: stage 1 : innocence / blind faith  (kissing the frog with the belief that there is a prince under all those warts) stage 2 : revelation / disillusionment  (finding out he is actually a warty frog under the human skin, after the transformation) stage 3 : maturity / acceptance  (what the heck, he is a lovable frog despite his queer taste for insects)