I had a blank canvass with which. I knocked the door of my lover,. But after a few cups of coffee here. And there And after those precious. 3 am conversations turning into. Just a thread of scattered words,. I saw his eyes making room for me to leave. It was a choice I made voluntarily. And the canvass that I took. Months to decorate with all.

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What once she heard as a fairy-tale now was reality to her innocent world. Only if she knew fairy tales in a modern world could rarely exist, as more of deceit was filled across his notion. Among her moments with him she looked for magic, overlooking aspects of sheer importance. What was this to make out of her? Would it really have any meaning? Or would this fade with the rising sun? She knew none of this, she just believed.

Get me outta here! Writing and eating, sometimes together, are the only times when i feel like i am not supposed to be doing something else. Save Our Doctors So That They Can Continue Saving Us. It is a case of pure unbridled irony that doctors, responsible for minute trivial things like saving lives and ensuring well being of people, are victims of violent behaviour and are losing their lives because of hooliganism by the relatives of the patients they work to save. Aka, what else is new? .

I am not afraid to keep on living. I am not afraid to walk this world alone. Let me help you kill yourself. 24 Hours of a Misfit.