I can still remember the time when I wanted to be an adult, really bad. It was a kind summer. I was just eight. Kids were playing on the ground. When I am saying kids, I am talking about the “kids” a year or more younger than me. I never wanted to be called a kiddo or ‘kids’. None should have made the mistake. But one person did.
The weather brought cool breeze. Unlike in movies, the bangs of my hair were swinging wildly with the wind. Man, my mom, who happens to be a hairdresser doesn’t seem to know my struggle. No, I never had one of those moments when my hair flows perfectly against the wind to catch anyone’s attention. Nobody did. At least that’s what I thought. Continue reading
Writing is fun and addictive to some point. The act of writing gives you the contentment of being heard if not, respected. It is in itself an irreplaceable treasure. A gift for you to yourself. For me, it is one of the reasons to keep me going through the bitter phases of life.
This is the first journal that I am publishing over the net, PUBLICLY! It’s because I got so much love and had so much exhilarating experience after long. I don’t share about my life more often. But, today was an exception. I want everyone to have a life I had today. It started from the day to the end of the night, which is now. And, it’s currently 2:42 am at night. I don’t know why but I felt like I had to write this. I couldn’t sleep without finishing this thing. So, here it is. Let me get you started from how it all started.