Something like Poetry

Gaslighting Logoleptic

  He is as cynical as they come Ask him and he will laugh at Anything that remotely resembles A hopeless romantic Anything that remotely reminds Him of you Do not fall for that so called passion His love for art that appears genuine Genuine only to lift its Ugly head of pseudo intellectualism when… Continue reading Gaslighting Logoleptic

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Original Writings

All About Cody

Cody works for an insurance company. I ask him what his job is and I sense him beat around the bush like a pro, intentionally omitting what he does for a living, and instead taking me on a verbal tour on where he works and for whom. It's not entirely his fault. The cubicle where… Continue reading All About Cody

Something like Poetry

Hope

Someone once told me, our hearts are nothing but mirrors that reflect each other. That we are all in search of, bodies with souls that one day may complete one another. Oh we do meet every other day, when you and I cross roads outside our favorite landmark. I do turn my head today, hoping… Continue reading Hope

Original Writings

Josie and I

The oldest memory that I remember or have of Josie Salem is the one from 9th grade. I used to be this overweight, fourteen year old stout kid, who wore his pants high-waist, and combed his hair sideways everyday of the week, and who didn't think twice about my crooked spectacles, because appearances hardly mattered.… Continue reading Josie and I

Original Writings

Letters to Felicity (I)

Dear Felicity, Today I took the 13:15 to the call center that I work at. It's usually a half hour ride to the city from my hometown, and I normally get to cover the 2 to 8 shift. It's not exactly the best, but it's either this or the night shift, you see. And I… Continue reading Letters to Felicity (I)

Original Writings

21 Days

He boards the 20:10 every evening that takes him home from his workplace. He was once told by his Pharmacology professor during a lecture on ‘Pharmacokinetics’ in his second year of medical school that, if he ever wanted to make something stick in his life, then he would have to do it consecutively for 21… Continue reading 21 Days

Original Writings

Zoya

"So, if I ate the meat on my plate without separating it from its bones, if I just chewed the flesh right through them, would you call that evolution or just downright lazy?”, Zoya asked me smiling with her big, bubbly eyes. I stared at her amused, for a moment or two, and then chuckled… Continue reading Zoya

Original Writings

Chatma (The Dining Table)

Chatma believed that she needed to be a little less meek. The other day she happened to have this conversation with her mother, while they were having dinner on that dreaded and boring looking dining table that she despised since she was 12 years old. She was told that old habits die hard, and it… Continue reading Chatma (The Dining Table)

Original Writings

The Girl from Dihan

Prologue Day 430 "Sorry, but I don't talk to strangers." Nirodh Day 432 I smile as these words play over and over in my head without any sign of tiring anytime soon. Apparently, The Girl from Dihan never disappoints her mother by disobeying her. The Girl from Dihan never talks to strangers. But she certainly… Continue reading The Girl from Dihan

Original Writings

Sonder

It was a normal, dull poster of the azure sky with the edge of a cliff at the bottom. Pretty stock material if you ask me. But what grabbed my attention wasn't the cliched blue sky or the done to death cliff-edge. It was this unusual word that was painted in an atypical font that… Continue reading Sonder