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Vositha's Blog

~ a story of life, love and other things

Vositha's Blog

Tag Archives: emotions

“I love you”

27 Wednesday Feb 2013

Posted by vositha in Fiction

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

emotions, i love you, love, relationships, smile

“I love you” he says.

She was a stranger to feelings.

At a certain point in life, where life was simpler, she believed she loved him, in a very stupid unrealistic way. The way Bollywood movies make people believe.

Silence, the norm.

“I know you love me” he says.

He had decided for her. As usual.

“Do I?”

“Don’t you?”

Sad eyes, slightly lost with child like expression on face, unable to decide what be the next line.

“I do” she says. Sheer words uttered merely for his sake.

A smile.

“Stale-mate”

22 Friday Feb 2013

Posted by vositha in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

emotions, love, passion

I think of him. the puffs of smokes, the stalking eyes and the bitter cynical behavior that follows. I tell him “black” and see him in “white” .

A paradox of all sorts, he and I live, which we name not, a thing that needs no definition, a passion not lived and brought to a stale-mate.

A moment of happiness and gentleness that I had not felt in a long time. I live. I feel. I taste. The tingling of skin, the brushing of lips and the eyes that watch me, as I feel his lips on the back of my neck, butterfly kisses long felt, and guiltless.

We live separated, by a very thin line, undefined, invisible where he lives for a moment that he awaits, and I, a life of duty.

“Is it you, me or just the weather?”

31 Tuesday May 2011

Posted by vositha in Random Moments of Life, Relationships

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

depressed, emotions, indifference, love, me, mum, relationships, you

You say you do not know what emotions are, and that it is all your mother’s fault. I wonder what that woman did to you, for you to blame the world on her. Get tired of your indifference, the one you claim to have acquired from her.

You say she does not love you. I think it is the stupidest thing I ever heard. What mother would not love her own child. Then again, it is you. And maybe you are an exception (at least in your imagination)

I hear of your daily fights with her. I think “at least she fights”. I don’t. Cz I am just tired. Tired of trying. Life with you has taught me that it ain’t worth it.

I do what I do best: wonder.

I wonder if it is you, me or just the depressed weather?

Rants of an Insomniac

24 Thursday Feb 2011

Posted by vositha in Fiction, Random Moments of Life

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

clawing, emotions, messed up, scratch marks

Emotions! Fuck them! They just annoyed her and they just made her feel a weakling. And what the fuck was she to do if they were all that flew/flowed (not sure about this one) into her head of late.

Aaaargh!

Yes she was up again at 4 am, and yes this time he was right, it was her conscience that was fucking her sleep. Yeah, screw it all! She had enough of pretending to be the “ice queen” and the emotionless bitch. She had enough! Stress on the word enough! ENOUGH ENOUGH ENOUGH!

Aaaaaaaaaargh!

His sweetness (measured and offered) scared her, or well, rather creeped her out! His roses on Valentine’s day, the necklace he had ordered for her, and put into her hands with all sweetness, well it messed her head. It messed her fucked up head because it was already fucked up. It was fucked up cz she had NO ffing clue how to react to someone being nice to her. She had no clue when anyone had been nice to her of late. Or would it be better phrased if she said “ she had no clue of anyone EVER being nice to her”!! Yea quite a sad plight.

So what does she do? Call him up, ask him “ would you think I am a royal bitch, if i were to tell you that i want some time for myself?” (pronounce it the fastest possible and pray that he does grasp it, well a stop in between would have made it a task that was impossible, meaning the pronouncing that whole ffing line, which she knew was a mistake but could not nevertheless stop herself from uttering, cz the moment she said it she did regret it)

Surprise! He does not get what she says! Yes, not her ffing day. She knew watching “Message in a bottle” would not be the best omen for the day. She tells her friend while talking to her and watching the last minutes of the movie, as the man drowns trying to save some people who were in the middle of getting drowned, that it ruined her day and it can NOT be a good start to the day. Well what can you say? She was right! Well she was most of the time, just that people failed to admit it out loud.

For some reason, “drown” be the word of the day. Flashbacks of books, Marlon’s poems, something about swimming and “drowning” while his warmth rubbed against her hand she remembered. A “drowning” of emotions, or emptiness, whatever the fuck it was that she endures.

Not good!

She wishes she could have swallowed those last words of her conversation. She knew people could NOT handle her non bitchiness. Well he seemed no exception to the rule. Was she happy? Was she sad? She had no fucking clue! Well that is what she told him when she was frustrated with those god forsaken phrases of ambiguity which messed her brain in analysis. “ Why do you talk like that? I don’t have a clue as to what goes in your brain!”

“That’s the beauty of it!”

Fuck the “beauty”! At times she wished there was clarity! What happened to that aspect in people’s life!

Back to pulling her already messy, fussy and frizzy hair. A friend tells her “it’s okay to cry, you do not ‘have’ to be strong all the time” before she moves to quote Bob Marley? Yeah, well tough luck, she was incapable of those tears! Never had been capable of those.

A bed that be too big, scratch marks thanks to her own clawing and eyes of swollenness. No memories of caring , sweetness of what be not bitchiness. Blocked. All blocked. Laughter, kisses, gentleness, yea yea whatever! Nails biting hard on her skin, her own. The self destructing mode. Mmm sadism, or sado- masochistic behaviour. Re Brown, yeah those random points of law that she remembers, from out of her pit of a brain!

The smarting of the skin that burns. The sting of the pain of what be maybe emotions that she does not feel.

Emptiness. An empty black hole.

A pit of illusions of her own lost brain or mind or whatever you called it these days.

Criminal law, mm yeah something she should pay attention to. A lot of attention to it I presume.

The lights in a room that burns throughout the night, the eyes that refuse to sleep and the mind that fails to shut off, and the tears that she knows would never flow.

Inside her she knows it is over. But then again she knew she kinda loved him. Yes “kinda” in her own screwed up way. Something many people never managed to grasp and well rather never bothered to grasp.

He tells her “ women should not think too much”

Yeah, they should screw instead!

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