Moonsong

There's more to life than just what the societal norms tell us

[lunacanticum]

There was a rainbow out yesterday. It looked like a waterslide from heaven. I wondered what your face would look like while you watched the sunset and rainbow with me. Come soon, I want to know the answer.

[lunacanticum]

I feel like incomplete dreams is a way of my subconscious taking revenge on myself for starting all those stories and leaving them incomplete IRL.

[lunacanticum]

I am filled with a certain kind of guilt every time I am lighting a cigarette, but it's the only way for me to reminisce all those times when you'd let me borrow yours. Later on, our jackets would smell like we sprayed them with perfume made of timber and ash.

When I put the rims of the wine glass to my lips, the cold that I feel constantly reminds me of how you contrast the glass that now stings my mouth with its wine as young as us. It tastes bitter and makes me grit my teeth like I did when I let go of your hand and my vision was lost in the blur of my tears.

'How childish', 'how immature', ' ugh embarrassing', are all the comments I think of with the little voice in my head when I see stupid couples holding hands and walking down the streets. This I do, only to realize I want to be childish too, I want to be immature as well and I hate to admit, I am jealous.

Every day feels the same and yet it's different? Days are long and nights are short and my sleep? I don't even know how I could be so at peace and so anxious when you intrude into my dreams. I am bad at math so I never really bothered to know what big of a difference a single kilometer made, but now that you're far and I long for you to be near I thank god for the technologies that have been discovered to this day. So if you think that I have suffered enough know that I'd suffer some more if doing things that make me seem like an air-head makes you believe that I love you.

[lunacanticum]

[lunacanticum]

"Just like a little child, the sunlight peeps through the clouds. While the mighty clouds try to cover the kid with its arms as huge as a boulder."

I remember thinking this while I looked up at the sky. I was out after a long time and the world seemed strange from the other side of my window. My friend beside had given me a paper towel to wipe the stickiness that the running ice cream had left on my hand. There was this wonderful bliss mixed with a little trippiness that pulling an all-nighter had caused but oh! It was a wonderful moment on a wonderful day.

[lunacanticum]

Seasons.

Seasons will come and go and they bring memories of you in different forms.

Sometimes you pour down like monsoon

In summers you shine like the sun.

In winters you're gentle and soft

Like the snow I'd seen as a child.

But nothing compares to the bloom of spring when you bud a little smile

Filling my world with cool breezes, spreading the citrus scent of lime.

I've saved the treat of colors for the last when leaves turn yellow, red and brown,

Autumn feels like you'd embrace me again

And in your strong, warm arms I'll drown.

[lunacanticum]

All day.

Someone plays on my mind the entire day.

[whitepeopletwitter]

[lunacanticum]

The first time I met him was like the first time I cried,

I don't remember a thing even though I've tried.

But as he was leaving I could feel something crack,

I couldn't say a word so I just stared at his back.

The second time I met him was more like the first,

Because I still remember my happy, little outburst,

He told me he would be staying this time,

I said, "If it's long enough I'll make you mine".

But as fortune would have it he left once again,

Out of my arm's embrace, into the pouring rain,

I told him " Love! Stay a little longer"

But apparently his calling for departure was stronger.

So the next time if we are both not dead,

I'll wait for him in front of the mountain's gate,

And when he arrives I'll be sure to make him stay,

He'll know I'll love him in the future as I've done till today.

[lunacanticum]

More than once have I scarred myself, sometimes on purpose sometimes by accident. But it's funny how I still want to run, jump and climb and crawl under hedges, up the trees and spiked bushes. A slight fear always remains ' what if I don't recover from this one? What if it leaves a permanent bruise?'

But the greed for even a momentary freedom makes me give in to my temptations, and before I know it I'm running again, huffing and puffing but still skipping through the rain. Scraping my knees on tree barks but laughing at the same time, bleeding out my nose but also facing the sunshine.

[lunacanticum]

'On a cold day two friends greeted each other with a warm hug as if to heal a whole year of scars with the joy of reunion.'

Empty cafés are the best. An empty café furnished with old books and posters are even better.

'It's a pain to spend time and energy on people but the time and energy spent on someone you love is an investment. You being imprinted on their minds, them remembering you at random times, that is the return and it's worth it. It's worth it.'

January brings with it the joy of new beginnings when we can tear off the blotched scribbles of the past and write a new chapter everyday.

[lunacanticum]

I took an early morning walk in the forest and picked up this Sacred Fig leaf also known as 'Peepal' in Hindi and Nepali.

The road covers a distance of 7km and is quite shady to be honest but it's the best route to avoid people and interactions. The 5 am walks hit different because it makes you face facts that you may be running away from but although IT'S TERRIFYING TO BE ALONE WITH YOUR THOUGHTS it's worth the pain.

[lunacanticum]

I am simple minded. Little things make me happy, like a letter from a dear friend. Although we haven't seen each other in a while I hope all these good wishes that I just put out there in the universe finds a way to you. The sweet nostalgia of our friendship keeps my heart and mind warm during these chilly winter days. Do let's meet soon, much love.

[lunacanticum]

Abstract Journal: Entry #1

It must be nice to move around like the cold winds, lightly grazing everything on the way and when trapped inside libraries and museums, to carry their scents to the cemeteries and graves; to whisper praises from a lover’s lips and to cool the broth a mother feeds her child. Doing all this with no destination in mind, but to travel the world with the sun, the moon and the stars as the only company.