tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56505083659820089602024-02-19T18:04:33.259-08:00❤ Cabbages and Roses ❤...Of Love, Life, Dreams, & Dish Washing...Falaxyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06388232602145681323noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650508365982008960.post-40820884319574801682011-08-04T22:14:00.000-07:002019-08-06T15:47:27.436-07:00Catharsis<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She rushed into the bathroom, her hands shaking violently as she locked the door. She sank into the floor and the tears started coming, dripping into her lap, leaving tiny, wet pools that quickly gave way to little, black spots on her jeans. They looked like miniature black holes... so dark, so empty... She stared at their gloomy emptiness as she thought about <em><span style="font-size: large;">them</span></em>. </span><br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrZUT4D-7ZHLs9rTz_1SKWV9-KQkUysuPsuTKty9MeXxscOtsTUu4hGl5zupYmJ7RXASa-sLfwQgPuLVFQlQ-qsNwPYiTGNWDTSE8j6Kf20x-hc0NoukIJOwPxYl3aPyRBYFJAobA81hAl/s1600/heart_shaped_tear_drop_by_cherrylolly-d3g4iv6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrZUT4D-7ZHLs9rTz_1SKWV9-KQkUysuPsuTKty9MeXxscOtsTUu4hGl5zupYmJ7RXASa-sLfwQgPuLVFQlQ-qsNwPYiTGNWDTSE8j6Kf20x-hc0NoukIJOwPxYl3aPyRBYFJAobA81hAl/s320/heart_shaped_tear_drop_by_cherrylolly-d3g4iv6.jpg" t="" true="" width="286px" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">All of them, one by one, how they had treated her.</span></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><em><span style="font-size: x-large;">drip,</span><span style="font-size: large;">drip,</span>drip,drip,<span style="font-size: x-small;">drip</span>,<span style="font-size: xx-small;">drip</span></em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She shut her eyes tight and tried to think of one person whom she could lean on. She grabbed the bottom of her plush bathrobe and pulled it off the hook it was hanging on behind the door. She held it close to her body and buried her face into it's warm softness.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><em>No one...</em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She had never looked to her parents for support, she had always felt like more of an adult than either of them, forever trying to resolve their petty, never ending arguments; always stuck in the middle.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She didn't want to bother either of her sisters about it, Amani was never comfortable dealing with other people's problems and Maya was too young.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Musa, her brother, had grown distant from her a long time ago.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She had always been the Problem Solver, the Blame Taker, and she was getting tired of it, so tired...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And then there was HIM...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The person she had always leaned on, even if it was just in her thoughts, was the reason she was sitting here on the bathroom floor, looking to a bathrobe for comfort.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><em>No, I will not do this...</em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><em>"Suck it up, it's not the end of the world"</em>, she told herself. "<em>You are so pathetic sometimes, stop being such a martyr..."</em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She re-arranged the bathroom mats, scrubbed off a spot on the bathroom mirror with her sleeve and took one last look at herself before she unlocked the door. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Her eyes were an angry, swollen red. She reached for the faucet but quickly turned it back off.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><em>The water was too cold and no one was going to notice anyway...</em></span></div>
Falaxyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06388232602145681323noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650508365982008960.post-88421953927375139572011-06-16T20:05:00.000-07:002011-06-16T20:06:57.281-07:00Life's Unfortunate Irony<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">The more you get used to </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">being <em><span style="font-size: x-large;">strong</span></em> for everybody else,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">The <em><span style="font-size: x-large;">weaker</span></em> it will make <em>you</em>... </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKi3vGi5PXh-eAmy4OG-rKm5RaLDRulIJ6u7LaVPWS-zYFPDalonxbztZnEh_3Dl81Xiia-TpV9N7J_Um_9DjoQVhNddIhM7uEphv8hlkXR_Pc2eHGiQ_QfTF_74T3-0Xv8WTCr0Ax2hC3/s1600/ironic__isnt_it_by_korshio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKi3vGi5PXh-eAmy4OG-rKm5RaLDRulIJ6u7LaVPWS-zYFPDalonxbztZnEh_3Dl81Xiia-TpV9N7J_Um_9DjoQVhNddIhM7uEphv8hlkXR_Pc2eHGiQ_QfTF_74T3-0Xv8WTCr0Ax2hC3/s320/ironic__isnt_it_by_korshio.jpg" t8="true" width="305px" /></a></div>Falaxyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06388232602145681323noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650508365982008960.post-25642392870664225212011-06-11T14:32:00.000-07:002011-06-11T14:33:36.713-07:00Lesson Learnt!<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Poetic</em> as it may sound,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>DO NOT</em> wear <strong><span style="color: #990000;">rose-scented, crimson lipstick</span></strong> to the park...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZFWZknCxO_Pv3TLt_MTrIlbssA32JFR2qLDeHUR-Nky8kloIxqrDwli3sV-_OewAnE4ROHXdgKmC0Z123dwkMrs1KjdfVxu6ruTk1P4CyC2g6JatL51TXKsge1F1K98emtehnUbGEDZ0v/s1600/tumblr_lgt9ytUYb41qduyu1o1_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZFWZknCxO_Pv3TLt_MTrIlbssA32JFR2qLDeHUR-Nky8kloIxqrDwli3sV-_OewAnE4ROHXdgKmC0Z123dwkMrs1KjdfVxu6ruTk1P4CyC2g6JatL51TXKsge1F1K98emtehnUbGEDZ0v/s320/tumblr_lgt9ytUYb41qduyu1o1_400.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">unless you <em>WANT</em> the bees to mistake your mouth for a <em>flower</em></span><em>!</em></span></div>Falaxyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06388232602145681323noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650508365982008960.post-43948705076588909552011-06-06T19:28:00.000-07:002011-06-11T14:35:15.335-07:00Memory Lane is A Lonely Place<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFD_2i7Ms-_mQ-RDUg5wsA1h6IaZXVBMkIPH-WAZiiuno4ejVSWqFH1yWvYaLhyphenhyphen6gK6e3m8aIPF2apEdcWUJIBRt3PMUpb31K4uS9TN8MAxJm8erK2an0OoHemOLWZrQXunJWg30efGZ3U/s1600/Bed3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFD_2i7Ms-_mQ-RDUg5wsA1h6IaZXVBMkIPH-WAZiiuno4ejVSWqFH1yWvYaLhyphenhyphen6gK6e3m8aIPF2apEdcWUJIBRt3PMUpb31K4uS9TN8MAxJm8erK2an0OoHemOLWZrQXunJWg30efGZ3U/s320/Bed3.jpg" t8="true" width="212" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It was just another lazy Monday afternoon, the sun was streaming through the white chiffon curtains so that it felt almost soft and creamy against her face. It put her in a good mood, ready to tackle the day's chores. She put aside the book she was reading and went to the closet to get bedsheets.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Usually she despised changing the sheets but she was unusually happy this afternoon.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">She pulled out the cream colored, satin sheet set. She ran her fingers on the fabric. Silky, smooth and creamy, just like the sunlight had felt on her face.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">She threw off the old sheets, and spread the fresh ones on the bed. The crisp and clean scent of freshly done laundry wafted through the air. </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It made her smile...</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>But something didn't seem right.</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was something. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">At the back of her mind, trying to crawl back into her thoughts.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">She tried to ignore it, but she couldn't.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"It's been a year...", she said to herself aloud.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">She took a step back from the bed, like it was a time machine and it would suck her into itself. Walking away wouldn't help. It had already taken her back. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Back into his arms....</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">She had stopped thinking about him as much now. She hadn't forgotten him, she just chose not to think about him so often. She had stopped reading the hundreds of text messages over and over. <span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Reading them now made her feel like he had been taunting her love for him, telling a needy woman what she wanted to hear and not even that, he had never been the expressive, romantic type. She had s</span>topped going to his blog. Stopped refreshing the memories. Stopped hoping.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And it had worked. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">She had convinced herself that she was never as important to him as she had thought she might be in the past, that it just wasn't possible. That he would never think about her and she shouldn't think about him either. That he must have forgotten about her a long time ago. That he was happy in his life and she wasn't even important enough to be a memory.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Why did it all seem so real then?", she thought to herself many times, how could she have been so naive?</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">You'd think it would make her sad, but she was stronger than that, it actually made not having him in her life anymore, a lot easier. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">She had buried the memories, the thoughts, the love, deep in a distant, lonely corner of her heart, one that even <em>she</em> didn't have access to.</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>But it had all come flooding back that lazy Monday afternoon.</em></span>Falaxyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06388232602145681323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650508365982008960.post-84865526768930064022010-11-23T21:02:00.000-08:002010-11-23T21:05:46.232-08:00I'm Sorry but I'm Not Rihanna, and I Don't Like the Way It Hurts!<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Stop the car, I want to get out right now!", I yelled as loud as I could.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The car screeched to a halt at the red light, he ignored me.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Don't think i won't!"</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Fine then, get out!"</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">As I was unlocking the door, he said, "You don't have the guts".</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Oh yeah?"</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I unlocked the door and I got out of the car. I could feel a billion eyes on me, gawking in surprize and anticipation. This was Saudi Arabia, women don't create scenes and they certainly don't storm out of the car in the middle of one of the busiest roads in the city, on a weekend night!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I got back into the car and slammed the door shut.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I didn't think so", he said, I wanted to punch that smirk off his face.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"If I created a scene, <em>you</em> would go to jail for it, so maybe I should just do it!"</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The traffic light turned green and he started driving.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">We didn't say anything. I was glad the music was blaring as loud as it was, silence just makes it all worse. It gives people the chance to voice their thoughts, thoughts better left unspoken.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>♫ ...Just gonna stand there and watch me burn,</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>Well that’s alright because I like the way it hurts... ♫</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Nothing seemed more idiotic, ironic, and senseless than those lyrics at that moment.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span>Falaxyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06388232602145681323noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650508365982008960.post-74712000791159121092010-11-09T22:53:00.000-08:002010-11-09T23:04:35.845-08:00Say NO To Sunday Stealing!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLO9qJZ7mHYiL9rkpuSwIJIOsrtwUSA3_uHa1OadOjzrIqN_oBbWrILKKHA7PY5Q-tBWLWBEFlo3ciAD-bg9t-kHOAEsoM7SWX5EGUUmGcmBVkUnC85TZ7ISZwFcFslHdhliatI2kPmQwR/s320/writers-block.jpg" width="283" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">However <em><span style="font-size: large;">uninspired</span></em> I may be, I will <em><span style="font-size: large;">not</span></em> resort to posting <span style="font-size: large;">Meme's</span>!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-small;">*No offence meant to anyone who does!*</span></div>Falaxyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06388232602145681323noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650508365982008960.post-60306962452888020822010-10-20T19:14:00.000-07:002010-11-09T22:58:04.940-08:00Back to the future!<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The alarm on my cellphone rang it's annoying ring!</span><br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuet8ebDPrIcCw4j_ee8b1kopCMf7lRUfLQkuaNjtvhssHMK5BuHZx_xx5ctBu89Pf9BNDvgEkTan4l018CFoMMbmEiPP2_CG1fi4wgVVp-M8H9RS-7j9wEaKMh64NEmKMNt5SNWrYJmLg/s1600/Bubble_by_dev1n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuet8ebDPrIcCw4j_ee8b1kopCMf7lRUfLQkuaNjtvhssHMK5BuHZx_xx5ctBu89Pf9BNDvgEkTan4l018CFoMMbmEiPP2_CG1fi4wgVVp-M8H9RS-7j9wEaKMh64NEmKMNt5SNWrYJmLg/s320/Bubble_by_dev1n.jpg" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>"God! Can they make any more annoying ringtones?", </em></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I thought as I stepped out of bed rubbing my eyes. I hadn't gotten much sleep and was irritated that I had to wake up. I tried to think of an excuse to stay in bed a little longer, but was too sleepy to do even that, so I made my way to the bathroom still half asleep.</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and tried to open my eyes wide to look at my reflection. Leftover mascara from the night before had left me looking like a raccoon. But the bathroom lights were disturbingly bright for a person as sleepy as me so I closed my eyes again as I turned on the faucet. I reached for the soap and started to lather it in my hands.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It was a new bar of soap. Creamy white with patches of peach. I had my eyes closed still and the fragrance of the soap wafted up with the warmth of the water. A comforting, familiar fragrance. I tried to recall the smell. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>"The soap we always used at my parents' house!"</em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I shut my eyes tighter and I breathed in the scent with the longest, deepest breath I could muster.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It filled my senses and took me back to a distant past.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">My eyes still shut tight, I imagined standing in my parents' bathroom.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I imagined the still running faucet was the faucet I grew up using. I washed a finger under the warm, comforting water, being careful not to wash off too much soap. Not just yet.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I imagined the bathroom mirror and it's exact position so high up that it I couldn't see my reflection below the chin.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I imagined the pink and white, flowery shower-curtain to my left, using all my willpower to block out the fact that my gold shower-curtain was on my right at that moment.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I imagined the dark brown door on my right and I imagined turning the golden knob and stepping out onto the rug outside the bathroom; a rug, worn but still comfy to step on.</span><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I imagined walking further towards my room, passing my parents' bedroom on the way.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I peeked in and imagined seeing my dad, just back from prayer, collecting his files and folders from the shelf to finish off some work; work that never ended.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I imagined walking past my brother's closed bedroom door, the loud music blaring, almost making the door vibrate. </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I imagined reaching my room, my sisters sitting inside, one sitting in front of a huge pile of papers and the other on my bed, looking bored and picking at her face as usual.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I imagined my mom calling me from the family room where she would be sitting in her favorite chair watching her favorite soap on tv, a cup of tea in her hand and the remotes in the other; my dad's cup waiting for him on the coffee table. I wanted to touch it, feel its warmth.</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Just then the cold marble of the sink touching my hand startled me and I opened my eyes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">It brought me back.</span><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>Back to my bathroom, the shower curtain on my right and the door on my left.</em></span></div>Falaxyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06388232602145681323noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650508365982008960.post-66937012507213306252010-09-27T19:53:00.000-07:002010-09-27T19:53:44.401-07:00Drowned<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1FO-NR19-kPSal8o5Wu1YiYp7pfWs9gr8rx_EpkKTzKh9hmh3iXL9MQife91bNi9c5e7k9rg8gPSUW-vacAqHYnOkj9-WPr7mhWWYHlFUn_R3LgRmo39e_2GomuwmEHPyyBlec2eQFdz9/s1600/a978f4eb021ce476.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="189" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1FO-NR19-kPSal8o5Wu1YiYp7pfWs9gr8rx_EpkKTzKh9hmh3iXL9MQife91bNi9c5e7k9rg8gPSUW-vacAqHYnOkj9-WPr7mhWWYHlFUn_R3LgRmo39e_2GomuwmEHPyyBlec2eQFdz9/s320/a978f4eb021ce476.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It had been three days since they had spent any time together, literally. It was amazing how they managed to do that living in the same house.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">She missed him, missed laughing, having a conversation, sharing a bag of chips, watching a rubbish movie, doing things that a couple do together. She wasn't sure if it was him she missed, or just spending time with another human being, someone who wasn't either two years old or a person hidden behind a computer screen. She missed sharing her thoughts. She felt as if she had stopped having any, she had been keeping them to herself for too long, they had overflowed and were now just draining away from her mind, being wasted...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">She was sulking, he was tired.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">He made the effort to stay up the extra hour, she wondered why he did it. She would have thought it was because he genuinely wanted to spend time with her too, but he looked too exasperated for her to believe that. Maybe it was so he could have the satisfaction of knowing he had done his part. That was always important to him.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">They were watching a movie but she found her mind drifting off, far away, like it did so often now. She had no idea what the movie was about, she didn't care. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Let's gossip!", she said, a <em><span style="font-size: large;">twinkle</span></em> finding its way into her eye. She always said that when she wanted to know about how his day had went, who he met, and what they said. To anyone else, it would seem like the most boring thing to "gossip" about, how <em>Arif bhai</em> had borrowed yet another pen from him, or how the <em>samosa waala</em> had kept annoying him into buying those overly salted <em>samosa's. </em>She had heard the same stories over and over, but still listened to them with the same interest with which she heard them for the first time.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"There isn't anything interesting to gossip about", he said staring at the screen. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Oh come on! There must be something, you are out of the house almost 12 hours a day, something must have happened!", she playfully tugged at his sleeve, urging him to say something, to talk to her.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">After a few moments of slience, he still felt her anticipating eyes on him, so he said, "Yeah, a black car drove by the office today".</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Who was in it?", she asked, the <em><span style="font-size: large;">twinkle</span></em> in her eye getting "twinklier".</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"A man, and it had four wheels too", he said in a bored tone, still staring at the screen.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">She searched his eyes for the mischief that a person who is teasing somone has in theirs. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">She didn't find it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I feel distant from you today", she added "today" because she didn't want to make him feel like it was always the case, eventhough it had been, for a long time now. She was afraid of annoying him, afraid he would resent her for saying it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">He let out an exasperated sigh, "What did I do?".</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Nothing".</span><br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"What do you mean nothing, there is reason behind everything, there is no such thing as nothing", he said, trying to give her a taste of her own medicine, trying to show her how annoying it was when she said these things. She wasn't annoyed at all.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"No, you didn't do anything, it's just how I felt, so I told you", forgetting in an instant why she was feeling the way she was. She was starting to doubt herself again. It was always the same, she was so afraid of upsetting him, that at moments like these she had no idea why she was complaining, she had nothing to say to him. It was amazing how her mind went completely blank each time, and how confused she began to feel.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"What do you want me to do? Put a chain around my neck and sit at your feet all day?".</span><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"No, that's not what I meant", trying hard to put her thoughts into order, trying to think of something to say to defend herself. </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">But as usual, like every other time, she stayed silent while her mind was a chaotic, confused mess. She was trying to rationalize his annoyance. She was trying to tell herself that she was making a mountain of a molehill. It had become second nature to her, but tonight the tears came.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">She buried her head in her lap and started crying inaudibly, she didn't want to annoy him anymore, like not hearing her would somehow hide the fact that she was sobbing incontrollably and he wouldn't know. Crying felt like meeting an old friend, it felt good. She imagined standing across the room and looking at herself, and at him. Even in her imagination, she did not look at his face, afraid to find spite.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">He did not say anything and neither did she.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">When she felt like she couldn't breathe, she lifted her face from her soaked jeans and went straight to bed, feeling sad, not for herself, but for the drowned <em><span style="font-size: large;">twinkle</span></em> in her eye.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>Falaxyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06388232602145681323noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650508365982008960.post-42532347009862610462010-09-22T19:04:00.000-07:002010-09-23T08:35:45.256-07:00Secret Admirer - Be Your Own!<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">You shouldn't need a <em><span style="font-size: large;">man</span></em> to be feel <em><span style="font-size: large;">beautiful</span></em>....</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqYT_KIkKBWaHCeiwU8itXeOmHshFNkhb5o4wQweogs9JXSCccY7VbsPiyRk6Eh76pgOOCsi_60CLFgCcbVZxxZ-cv82pAL6rtNlxCPX2zsQLtHyxNuIZvc3srj-cyDN7W_Y4Ew1zpDzXI/s1600/Smile__You__re_Beautiful_by_anothercoldfire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqYT_KIkKBWaHCeiwU8itXeOmHshFNkhb5o4wQweogs9JXSCccY7VbsPiyRk6Eh76pgOOCsi_60CLFgCcbVZxxZ-cv82pAL6rtNlxCPX2zsQLtHyxNuIZvc3srj-cyDN7W_Y4Ew1zpDzXI/s320/Smile__You__re_Beautiful_by_anothercoldfire.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">but it does help!</span></div>Falaxyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06388232602145681323noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650508365982008960.post-43497384101883583742010-09-17T00:09:00.000-07:002010-11-09T22:58:20.672-08:00Blogstory<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL3JM9ZXu9z7mHsPQSJ7v9TwVkk-sflfVN0U8Nb_cqe22eKOtlzIhgO9g5PfA9P1ShTKJyQ6nwEuyxA1dEL7OhfsbM1A_HDHD5YfZxbqypldPZaD84SsbsVFbYpQbC1jImJ6PcxwuiC8lH/s1600/___he_is_gone____by_Artmguy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; height: 336px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; width: 321px;"><img border="0" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL3JM9ZXu9z7mHsPQSJ7v9TwVkk-sflfVN0U8Nb_cqe22eKOtlzIhgO9g5PfA9P1ShTKJyQ6nwEuyxA1dEL7OhfsbM1A_HDHD5YfZxbqypldPZaD84SsbsVFbYpQbC1jImJ6PcxwuiC8lH/s320/___he_is_gone____by_Artmguy.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Will there come a time when we'll lose touch?"</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"We have lost touch before... a lot of times!"</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"No, i mean completely... forever..."</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Yes, it's a distant possibility, Rimsha might come back to me, not that she will, but yes, there is a slight possibility." </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Hmmm...."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Why did he always have to be so practical?! And eventhough it was so unlike my pessimistic self, I didn't believe him for some reason... maybe I didn't want to... maybe he made me believe that she wouldn't come back to him...</em> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><u>2 weeks later:</u></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">We sat on the shore watching the sun set.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Well atleast you can always read my blog to know where I am and what I am upto. How will I know? You should start a blog too."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">My mind had drifted off by now and blogs were the last thing on my mind, I dug my hands into the sand and grabbed a fistful.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Say something".</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"There isnt anything left to say", I managed to reply trying my hardest to keep the sobs from coming.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">He was silent.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The sand in my hand was slipping from between my fingers, and I knew trying to hold on to it tighter wouldn't do any good.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I love you, I love you so much!", I said almost panicking, trying to cram in as much emotion as I could in those last few seconds.</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I have to go...". With that, he walked away, without a word, without looking back.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I wanted to stop him but I didn't. I watched the sea swallow the last rays of light instead.</span><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">That night i started this blog.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">No, I didn't tell him about it, how could I? We had already said our forever good bye's. Do I even want to tell him? Honestly, I don't. But sometimes, I do wonder if he will ever stumble upon this blog and how it will make him feel.</span><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I will never know and he will never tell me, </span></div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">becuase</span><em> forever is forever...</em></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>Falaxyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06388232602145681323noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650508365982008960.post-9771583224119604302010-09-06T23:15:00.000-07:002010-09-07T00:00:48.191-07:00Hello, I Am Falaxy and This is My Elephant.<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I walked in reluctantly, accompanied by that <span style="font-size: large;">huge elephant</span> that had conveniently decided to show up just in time for the family gathering...</span><br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9oU3BGFgCNnzdJ7hfzsvAzMPiKz5H5pZdcDYB-0hvbWnChJRexATX49spnlKFm-G7jDiXsn5xkjBBWmVMONTYFQx4bSBuzS-daC8RJhU2tewlhrvkFYKTlxoCdSKq4tVssGIiUhM_X80M/s1600/elephant-room1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Why me?!", I thought, angry and irritated that I had no choice but to bring it with me.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgej6jQAUxeqtNt8lMmTsRAXv44ET-tkWZ048-uqqqkpUVvtACfNUk3vy25oDe2oCJa6zquA4fSNWsWZ3-KHFwXzr3HAzDgnTYWRcR87bcNI-CuquuhwPJStzMAb_FeAgts7auRvSDABS03/s1600/elephant-room1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgej6jQAUxeqtNt8lMmTsRAXv44ET-tkWZ048-uqqqkpUVvtACfNUk3vy25oDe2oCJa6zquA4fSNWsWZ3-KHFwXzr3HAzDgnTYWRcR87bcNI-CuquuhwPJStzMAb_FeAgts7auRvSDABS03/s320/elephant-room1.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">As always, it showed up at the perfect time, the day my inlaws threw that huge party, and a week before <em>Eid</em>! </span></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I know it'll still be here on eid, and if it isn't, they'll be able to tell it was here not that long ago."</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I knew I couldnt hide it so I walked in with it, hoping no one would notice it, but that was asking for too much.</span></div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Someone will say something as soon as I walk in," I thought, "N</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">o, <span style="font-size: large;">EVERYONE</span> will say something..."</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I looked around to see if anyone was staring at it.</span><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Baaji</em> was busy talking to my husband in that hushed tone that always annoys me.</span><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"She better not be discussing me again!".</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Bhai jaan</em> was keeping Ahmed away from the <em>iftaar</em> table, and Maya and Reem were busy acting "busy".</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Trying to act like they've been slaving all day... yes, we can tell from your perfectly primped selves!"</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Everyone else was sitting waiting for the call to <em>Maghreb</em> prayer to break their fast.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">No, didnt seem like anyone was staring... I walked further into the room, there was no turning back now!</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">"Maybe I should have pretended to be sick"...</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I bet they will notice but wont say anything. Like a true <em><span style="font-size: large;">elephant in the room</span></em>, everyone knows it's there but they will ignore it, not because they are nice but they're afraid it might somehow leave me and end up with them!</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">If only that were possible, I'd give it to Reem for sure, or Maya, she never liked me.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Hmmm... maybe both!"</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">I willed with all my <span style="font-size: large;">might</span> for it to disappear and appear elsewhere.... <span style="font-size: large;"><em>anywhere!</em></span></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Georgia;">I stopped to check if it was still there... ofcourse it was!</span><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Georgia;">"Oh Falaxy, you're here! Have a seat, it's almost time for <em>Maghreb</em>!", someone said, I was too distracted to notice who it was. I had to pick someone <span style="font-size: large;">blind</span> to sit next to. Unfortunately there weren't any blind people present on the occasion.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">So, my Elephant and I sat next to <em>bhabi</em>, she was the nicest person in that room, she won't say anything.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I'm relatively safe..."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I soon realized she was also the most blunt and straightforward, </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Uh-oh, <span style="font-size: large;">wrong choice</span>..."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">She'd point it out and then the whole room would turn to look at it! I started to feel panicky...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe it'd be better if I just say it myself and got it over with...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"What perfect timing zits have, bhabi! Just in time for the big family iftaar party!", I blurted.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"What zit?", she squinted her eyes trying to locate it on my face.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"This huge thing on my cheek", I said discreetly, making sure no one else was looking, "It's the size if an elephant!", I was annoyed that she <em><span style="font-size: large;">wasn't</span></em> making a big deal of my elephant, err, i mean zit.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Oh, that....", she said looking at it, "Did you put toothpaste on it?", She turned back to her guests, the least bit interested!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I touched my cheek to see if it had magically shrunk in the last two minutes...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Nope! On the contrary, I could've sworn it had gotten bigger!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I decided <em>bhabi</em> needed glasses and made it through the rest of the party without worrying as much... even if I did look insane with half my hair falling on my face the entire time. </span>Falaxyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06388232602145681323noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650508365982008960.post-84457426214602126882010-08-29T00:40:00.000-07:002010-08-29T00:56:21.134-07:00Well, EXCUSE ME for Caring!<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZCN9dTfnUqfI1XzcrGEtWH3Tb1rkwtMLBn74g1y-nOz-Zp08njS64fJ_3jm-rF2ZRtYzPGrshyphenhypheniWpLIhkHC4tllVloPxq7a2C0-17qhG73pOZsZTJWNdGSdTcBCcDYdbHV3-Y7V_f8Ipf/s1600/Disappointed__by_Whatsername2609.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZCN9dTfnUqfI1XzcrGEtWH3Tb1rkwtMLBn74g1y-nOz-Zp08njS64fJ_3jm-rF2ZRtYzPGrshyphenhypheniWpLIhkHC4tllVloPxq7a2C0-17qhG73pOZsZTJWNdGSdTcBCcDYdbHV3-Y7V_f8Ipf/s320/Disappointed__by_Whatsername2609.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Why do you have to leave now?"</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I have to work, why else!"</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"You can go in a little late today... pleaassseeeee!!"</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"No, I can't, have to see a client around noon."</span></div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Well then go around 11, it'll give you plenty of time and you can get some rest."</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>*annoyed glance in my direction*</em></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"10? "</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Look, I don't know the exact time she'll show up, what if she arrives at 10 and I'm not there?"</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Ask her then?"</span></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>*silence*</em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"You havent't slept all..."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>"What the hell is your problem?</em> <span style="font-size: small;">What do you have against me and work? Why don't you understand this is serious, it's not a joke, this is real life! It's not a game that I only play when I feel like it, this is how I earn a living, how I put food on the table!"</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I just thought..."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"No, do me a favor and don't think!"</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Forget it... do what you want..."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And as he walked away I added,</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>"By the way, my problem is that I love you."</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span>Falaxyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06388232602145681323noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650508365982008960.post-48236646189627091812010-08-26T18:10:00.000-07:002010-08-26T18:10:29.651-07:00Eazie Peazie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga2OYm63GT9lqV6whljLm-quaSyjQfliRtFs-_7aUFUkN8YxprtdwxGXG0-q1WdH8qyr0nET8GGVuB8fFpD3l21MZU3sBnJApjZOQ9Yd1IhgZps2COy-uvRUoLfRuEEW7lPv7lnl54ATnx/s1600/reserved_by_fallen_red_soul.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga2OYm63GT9lqV6whljLm-quaSyjQfliRtFs-_7aUFUkN8YxprtdwxGXG0-q1WdH8qyr0nET8GGVuB8fFpD3l21MZU3sBnJApjZOQ9Yd1IhgZps2COy-uvRUoLfRuEEW7lPv7lnl54ATnx/s320/reserved_by_fallen_red_soul.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="color: black;">When you are too</span> <span style="font-size: large;"><em>tired</em></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> T<span style="color: black;">o even think about what to make for dinner,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="color: black;">Make</span> <em><span style="font-size: large;">'reservations'</span></em><span style="color: black;">!</span></span></div>Falaxyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06388232602145681323noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650508365982008960.post-53658470751972555852010-08-23T14:49:00.000-07:002010-08-23T15:06:57.153-07:00Who Said Life Would Be Fair?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirtuaclntdF-q7__vj-gyAglDUFLonkdckBHkciP9Zo4MTFUqH7q_CdV0tD_PiiUTypHW-eWGd0NyISdeJsHivV9SwlNWaJnPufmsgFXn6zDE9VfSxw2dIDO9sv5MeHL-TkUd6_JJd-T4c/s1600/too+much.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 233px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508729709459595826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirtuaclntdF-q7__vj-gyAglDUFLonkdckBHkciP9Zo4MTFUqH7q_CdV0tD_PiiUTypHW-eWGd0NyISdeJsHivV9SwlNWaJnPufmsgFXn6zDE9VfSxw2dIDO9sv5MeHL-TkUd6_JJd-T4c/s320/too+much.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">... If too much of a good thing is <em><span style="font-size:180%;">bad</span></em>,</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">Why isn't too much of a bad thing, <em><span style="font-size:180%;">good</span></em>? ...</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><em></em></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><em>Hmph!</em></span></div><br /><div></div>Falaxyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06388232602145681323noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650508365982008960.post-55724156556408101992010-08-23T00:28:00.000-07:002010-09-22T19:36:58.449-07:00The Devil Wears Prada and Eats Chocolate for Breakfast!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1lSDsJmArgbFg1OPrESHB5JDGqvOgol4PETgs9IyVBTfeDst2RsyE5IuW_emlz9R5ALn28ZqTNnc2Rub6LUH_ZwW0TN3GCJo4rGdjcxpuAQsiRR2m-pW5P4ClagtWyM0IMFnedsnESCEJ/s1600/Valentine__s_Chocolate_2_by_Medori.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508513984387346418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1lSDsJmArgbFg1OPrESHB5JDGqvOgol4PETgs9IyVBTfeDst2RsyE5IuW_emlz9R5ALn28ZqTNnc2Rub6LUH_ZwW0TN3GCJo4rGdjcxpuAQsiRR2m-pW5P4ClagtWyM0IMFnedsnESCEJ/s320/Valentine__s_Chocolate_2_by_Medori.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: right; height: 320px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 241px;" /></a><br />
<div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Having the usual 9:30 p.m. munchies, I opened my fridge today and spotted the beautiful, fuchsia and gold, box of chocolates sitting all pretty and innocent on the top shelf. The lid all done up in a big, chiffon bow, lying elegantly beside the box, leaving it half open, showing just enough of its enticing contents. It looked coy almost... inviting... I could have sworn it said "eat me"! </span></div><br />
<div><span style="font-family: georgia;">I reached for the lid... </span></div><br />
<div><span style="font-family: georgia;">"Naah, I shouldn't", I thought and quickly put it back on the box, not leaving it half open this time. </span></div><br />
<div><span style="font-family: georgia;">"One wouldn't hurt", said the box. </span></div><br />
<div><span style="font-family: georgia;">I picked it up and was about to lift the lid when I thought,"Yeah right, like I'll eat one!".</span></div><br />
<div><span style="font-family: georgia;">I shoved the box behind the bread where I wouldn't be able to see it and switched my gaze, and interest towards the vegetable basket. </span></div><br />
<div><span style="font-family: georgia;">"Hmmmm, carrots..."<br />
<br />
Yep, I ate 'em <em><span style="font-size: 130%;">all</span></em>!<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 130%;">And I am <em>not</em> talking about the carrots!</span></span></div>Falaxyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06388232602145681323noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650508365982008960.post-65253273019674804602010-08-21T14:21:00.000-07:002010-08-23T15:08:15.606-07:00Pointing Finger, Point At Thyself!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9rKey6poe7udA2GE0Uec3ckTRVKQoMzD8BTwQzk3FzzkPKjLIzpW1CM2xxvSv09xd76rvxFCQ6LqgjI_gLbd5K3E70YEO1Cq1oAMVPbUzGKfHj7mL1X6K_SxRQjk-mPrfuIETmJemgnDl/s1600/3e014506fccfc366e878b6e9b426e145.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507977307623889202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9rKey6poe7udA2GE0Uec3ckTRVKQoMzD8BTwQzk3FzzkPKjLIzpW1CM2xxvSv09xd76rvxFCQ6LqgjI_gLbd5K3E70YEO1Cq1oAMVPbUzGKfHj7mL1X6K_SxRQjk-mPrfuIETmJemgnDl/s320/3e014506fccfc366e878b6e9b426e145.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;">....Why <span style="font-size:130%;"><em>Practice</em></span>, when it is <span style="font-size:180%;"><em>so</em></span> much more convenient to <span style="font-size:130%;"><em>Preach</em></span>?....</span></div>Falaxyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06388232602145681323noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650508365982008960.post-77635713103975811372010-08-19T01:48:00.000-07:002010-08-23T15:09:21.747-07:00Where do I know her from?<span style="font-family:georgia;">I was browsing the shoe section, lusting again after those ridiculously high gladiator heels, debating whether I should finally buy them or wait till they would go on sale. Gorgeous as they were, I did not need another pair of heels I would never wear.<br /><br />That's when I saw her, rushing past me in an uneasy state of panic almost, telling her son to stop grabbing things in an agitated, audible whisper. She was taking large, hurried steps, looking behind herself again and again, which is why she probably didn't notice me. I looked to see if one of those perverts who hang about at women's department stores was following her, but didn't see anyone. Maybe he got scared that she would make a complaint when he saw how panicky she had gotten and left. I realized I was staring at her and looked away. </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikx4ElKnjjmp3r079NF8ruWqBNfhj30h5vmD6OA-xfgDsSB4oKYhmY3xUnJjBtB46h6Hao0RT3IOUHs7Zi-QnYu5EpGlGuBxGIHW1P4ykzm59U5LSsdUbcNDqMjC1anX8YQ08tPY6fLWkF/s1600/shop_lifting_by_theafterfall.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 243px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507045322751780194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikx4ElKnjjmp3r079NF8ruWqBNfhj30h5vmD6OA-xfgDsSB4oKYhmY3xUnJjBtB46h6Hao0RT3IOUHs7Zi-QnYu5EpGlGuBxGIHW1P4ykzm59U5LSsdUbcNDqMjC1anX8YQ08tPY6fLWkF/s320/shop_lifting_by_theafterfall.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;"><br /><br />Where had I seen her son? He couldn't be older than three and had pretty, hazel-ish eyes. I knew that eventhough i hadn't looked at them, because I was sure I had seen them before! I strained so hard to remember that i forgot all about the heels. I was annoyed that I still couldn't remember. I considered going upto her to refresh my memory and to tell her that she should tell security if someone was trying to harass her, but I got distracted by an unusual looking, purple candle. </span><span style="font-family:georgia;">"Perfect for that empty spot on my dresser", I thought, as I decided that she was probably rushing because her husband was waiting impatiently in his car outside. Maybe I was thinking like a drama queen again, so without giving it a second thought, I continued my shopping spree at the Home Decor department.<br /><br />A half an hour later, we had paid for our purchases and were just about to leave the store when it happened, the loud and obnoxious, almost siren-like, rapid <em><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">beep</span> beep beep </span><span style="font-size:180%;">beep beep</span></em>....<br />Everyone looked towards the store's large, glass doors, there she was again, it was her bag that had triggered the sound. The store employees should really be more thorough in removing those metal thingamajigs from their customer's purchases! I felt annoyed on her behalf and wondered why she hadn't left as yet, especially since she had been in such a rush thirty minutes ago. Her husband must be fuming by now!<br /><br />I turned my gaze towards her. She had an almost forced, surprised look on her face, and in what seemed like an impulse, instead of handing over that skimpy looking plastic shopping bag to the security guard, she shoved her purse infront of him! At that moment, I knew she had been shop-lifting, and so did the security guard.<br /><br />"Maybe it's something metal, maybe it's something metal", she kept repeating, trying to hide her embarassment and panic. The security guard was now calling for the store manager on the intercom.<br /><br />"What do you want to have for dinner? Mexican or Lebanese?", asked my husband as we walked out of the store.<br />"Hmm, what?", I asked, trying to pay attention to what he was saying. </span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">I clutched the shopping bag holding the unusual looking, purple candle a little tighter, as I took a last look back at her, feeling relieved we hadn't recognized each other and that I hadn't gone upto her before, and saved her the extra embarassment</span>!Falaxyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06388232602145681323noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650508365982008960.post-9918482650780613262010-08-18T20:02:00.000-07:002010-08-26T18:14:37.924-07:00Time to Detach<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8E3bR5BaAatikrHh7BqeYd4UzgrF5QWYUuoTkgCTRtbhS4EyFmXO44dJIa2LVlc3ceXD5mWD4n3-Jz_k7Cx4eKk5YuopTYnOx-mQPIinC8GyFtSD5KEpnkZz-9K8DVdDxRPZJJQVnniy4/s1600/stainless_steel_jaws_by_foodshelf.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506952899458331378" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8E3bR5BaAatikrHh7BqeYd4UzgrF5QWYUuoTkgCTRtbhS4EyFmXO44dJIa2LVlc3ceXD5mWD4n3-Jz_k7Cx4eKk5YuopTYnOx-mQPIinC8GyFtSD5KEpnkZz-9K8DVdDxRPZJJQVnniy4/s320/stainless_steel_jaws_by_foodshelf.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 214px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Some people are like a <span style="color: #660000; font-size: 130%;">snagged</span> nail... sure, it used to be a part of you, but who wants to keep a <span style="color: #660000; font-size: 130%;">potentially painful</span>, jagged bit of uselessness?</span></div>Falaxyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06388232602145681323noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650508365982008960.post-71641981563148358752010-08-17T13:40:00.000-07:002010-08-23T15:09:54.027-07:00You don't love me...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2eMsopB5r1B1kAL10ot1uu6lRf3KoZMVHoHCdLPOh_zNguDr-C0brkVAXzdgtl3CFcMLkwQsvLxLe4212oa7osq1eML5oJ4JnPdGqBPn7mj6RYUF1iR-0sKO9PFhAtUnfQDQWb75SEljh/s1600/1cda1f72924d4fc6f5eee5cd66c8514c.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506482594283240306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2eMsopB5r1B1kAL10ot1uu6lRf3KoZMVHoHCdLPOh_zNguDr-C0brkVAXzdgtl3CFcMLkwQsvLxLe4212oa7osq1eML5oJ4JnPdGqBPn7mj6RYUF1iR-0sKO9PFhAtUnfQDQWb75SEljh/s320/1cda1f72924d4fc6f5eee5cd66c8514c.jpg" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;">"Do you really think I dont love you? Don't I care about you?"<br /><br />"You do... But you do it because you have to! What does that have to do with love? You care about everyone else too, it's your nature..."<br /><br />"I care most about <span style="font-size:180%;color:#660000;">you</span>", he said, looking wounded...<br /><br />I didn't say anything, because I believed him, because it was <span style="font-size:180%;color:#660000;">true</span>. </span></div>Falaxyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06388232602145681323noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650508365982008960.post-26557667190073712322010-08-17T07:13:00.000-07:002010-08-26T18:14:14.655-07:00My Sweet Prison<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV6mCgKNlg21CMe63Z4314zR80bYYj_OQRVllikI9Nz6OfOI9OspL7Tv9KSRSCmcmRD__LSC4V1FllvLewBvz9tYZi4KJGWK-sCFdg5XytRNXgoKaSD4lvkeA8cW7jpxf8dFBdWsLa2PJT/s1600/Trapped_by_LeishaWolfeh.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506394383586020114" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV6mCgKNlg21CMe63Z4314zR80bYYj_OQRVllikI9Nz6OfOI9OspL7Tv9KSRSCmcmRD__LSC4V1FllvLewBvz9tYZi4KJGWK-sCFdg5XytRNXgoKaSD4lvkeA8cW7jpxf8dFBdWsLa2PJT/s320/Trapped_by_LeishaWolfeh.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 213px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<div><span style="font-family: georgia;">I, sometimes, feel like my life is a slightly claustrophobic box made of <span style="font-size: 130%;">honeycomb candy</span>... I can easily shatter it if i want... and that will leave me being, not only <strong><span style="font-size: 130%;">FREE</span></strong>, but also sitting in a <span style="font-size: 130%;"><strong>HUGE MESS</strong>!</span></span></div>Falaxyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06388232602145681323noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650508365982008960.post-34630564071612639142010-07-11T19:34:00.000-07:002010-07-12T09:18:37.904-07:00Love Letter Goodbye's<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioKQto8xXUXZX4b3v258_XnhMGDzNPzHS3oYqNBxjeTssxE1wMSAoEvWdq1qXkW10DMTmQUMJoeHvBgNxzuOxo7CcG3uphDp7DDjXc_Jdrr_iLjLCzcEdRzBHgG3Ur0Lvxl9gk-5MHhesK/s1600/With_Love_by_DistantTree.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 211px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492850800861272194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioKQto8xXUXZX4b3v258_XnhMGDzNPzHS3oYqNBxjeTssxE1wMSAoEvWdq1qXkW10DMTmQUMJoeHvBgNxzuOxo7CcG3uphDp7DDjXc_Jdrr_iLjLCzcEdRzBHgG3Ur0Lvxl9gk-5MHhesK/s320/With_Love_by_DistantTree.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong>From: Falaxy<br />Date: Sat, Jul 10, 2010 at 3:01 PM<br />Subject: i love u, forever<br />To: Vicky</strong><br /><br /><br />i thought i would be ok now, but the tears have come back tonight...<br />i'm not telling you because i want you to sympathize with me.... crying will make me deal with this better (plus, i also cannot stop these damn tears), you said u dont want me to cry... but u dont have to say that... i dont expect u to say anything....<br />what's wrong with crying anyway? thats something i have yet to understand, i really dont get it, its just an expression of emotion like any other... it may not make the world a happier place like smiling, but it causes no harm like expression of anger either... right? but why am i discussing crying?<br />dont worry about me, if you are, i may look like a harmless fuffly hippo, <em>(yes, i deliberately wrote 'fuffly'-inside joke)</em> but i'm tough! ... then why is this is so difficult?<br /><br />the problem is i see you everywhere and in everything...<br />especially when facebook suggests that i add shahid khan as a friend! :p<br />whenever i so much as pass by my livingroom, i see you, i see "us" (was there ever an "us"?)... talking, laughing, sharing silence while your head rests in my lap...<br />when i am on my bed, it reminds me of our closeness, both physical and emotional... thank you for those magical moments... i will cherish them forever...<br />when i look out the window, i wont see you walking towards me.... the last time you were here i was secretly watching you from the window, you "casually" looked up at my window, it made me smile : )<br />whenever i make <em>daal chawal</em>, i will think of you... havent been able to make it since i made it for you...<br />whenever i cant reach that purple bowl high up on my kitchen shelf.... i will wish i could call you again to get it for me...<br />whenever i get a text message on my cellphone, i will secretly always wish that its from you...<br />there are so many things... kaar-e-foor, internet slang at its best (read "worst"), addu teddy, telegu songs, even persil abaya shampoo and the science behind it!<br />i wonder if you will also ever think of me once in a while....<br />i will, very often...<br />Thank you, for the memories, for the laughs, for coming to Paris just to be with me, it made me feel special... thank you for everything...<br /><br />i probably wont send you this email... maybe on the 9th...<br />i cant talk to u right now, so i'm writing this pointless email... did i have a point? i forget...<br />my thoughts are all jumbled up right now... and these damn tears arent making it any easier...<br /><br />lol, isnt it ironic that after all these years, the only chance we had to really be together was when its time for it all to end? maybe thats a good thing... if this had happened before i had Michelle, i might have contemplated doing some pretty stupid things, not that i havent thought about it these past couple of months, but i would have had the courage to actually go through with it then!<br /><br />i cant believe you will not be a part of my life anymore, actually thats not true, you are and always will be an important part of my life... but you know what i mean...<br />even between the long silences where we didnt text or email each other for months, i always had this comfort in knowing that i can reach you somehow when i wanted to... and that you will reply...<br />that comfort will be gone, and its leaving behind a void in me that will always be there...<br /><br />pls dont get me wrong, i want you to be happy, and i am happy for you too, all this crying makes me feel like i am being selfish, i hope you dont think i am... because i am really not...<br /><br />like you said, its not easy to lose someone you love,<br /><br />and i love you Vicky,<br /><br />forever...<br /><br />P.S. Sorry about the lens cover! i guess u'll never know if i ever find it...<br /><br />.........................................................<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong>From: Vicky<br />Date: Sat, Jul 10, 2010 at 3:15 PM<br />Subject: Re: i love u, forever<br />To: Falaxy<br /></strong><br /><br />it makes me wanna cry. its unfortunate that i have to let go of someone who loves me so unselfishly.<br />who always thought that i was not in love with her and still loved me whole-heartedly.<br /><em>daal chawal</em> will never taste the same and it will be difficult to get pizza home delivered.<br />i wish i could have a baby with you but it doesnt mean that i dont think of Michelle as my own. There is an unbelievable bonding which is very obvious.<br />Being with you, however brief it was, will always be the best memory of my life.<br />Its unfortunate that i cant even keep this mail with me to read it again and again.<br />you take care of yourself falaxy... fuffly hippo... januuzzzzz or whatever your name is. even if your name was nouna nun i would still be so crazy about you.<br />you were in a hurry to get married. as i said earlier too, this time i was a little late. Next time i will come before him and then i will see how you marry him.<br />falaxy... i love you. </span></div><div><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">......................................................... </span></div><div><em><strong>(Names and Details changed to protect privacy)</strong></em></div>Falaxyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06388232602145681323noreply@blogger.com3