something + something else (yes, too lazy for titles) + life
“something” “Brilliant”, she said. I disagreed. “This is real”, she continued. “This time you will see it for yourself, the wrath of the past, the revenge of the fallen.” I laughed, and told her: “isn’t that the title of the new Transformers movie?” As she ignored my comment, she said: “You have to see it, and feel it in order to grasp it. You have made mistakes, but this time, there won’t be a second chance.” That surprised me, and with a puzzled look I replied: “But I never asked for a second chance. I never asked for anything. It’s not like I never got punished. Never begged and rarely asked for

open letter to my glasses
Dear glasses, How are you? It’s been a while, what’s new? I hope you’re doing well and life is exactly how you want it to be. I’m writing you this letter, because I want you to know that I miss you. I am really sorry for being a bad owner. For not cleaning your lenses frequently and not appreciating all your efforts in making me see the world better. I know I didn’t always put you back in your case, and sometimes just shoved you in my bag, but I’ve changed. I’m a different owner now. I know I used to just brush you off, and use contacts, but I’m over that bitch. She wasn’t even half as good as you. Every time I wore her, I was thinking of you. I need you

she didn’t know
Once again, I cheated on you. For this, and all my previous sins, I’m sorry. I really felt like writing the other day, and I did. Then I didn’t post it. I’m sorry. I feel obligated to you, you being random statistics that I monitor. The number of visits, the number of hits…just numbers with no faces. I also wrote the beginning of what could’ve been a very good post, but decided to post in Facebook instead. Again, I’m sorry. This is what I wrote: “When nobody's watching...pencil and pen. Naked paper and the rest are just secrets. Pouring out, pain, fused with ink. Curves that shape words, describe years of sorrow. And the screams of th

time will tell
I smell like smoked turkey, and that’s cause I made one for dinner. I should take a shower and sleep, but I don’t wanna. Well, that’s not entirely accurate, I actually want to do that, but I don’t feel like it. Tonight, I ate like a beast, and in around 6 hours, I gotta run 5K for CIBC Breast Cancer: Run For The Cure, should be fun! My ankle isn’t %100 yet, but I think I can run straight without problems. I’m gonna wrap it, just in case. I tried to do a little jerk move, just to see how it feels, wasn’t smart. It still hurts. Tomorrow looks to be rainy day, which isn’t good for a bad ankle. I’ll hope for the best, it’s for charity man, how much shit could happe

bitter reminder
One day I woke up, and words became more clear. Bright like the sun, I saw them all, shining, perfectly perfect. One day I grew up, and it was a very sad day. The innocent escaped, all that was left was the bitter truth. The pessimistic view, the death of trust. I didn’t wear black, I knew it would happen, I always anticipated it, so when it did, I was ready. And there are nights, where I feel bitter. Angry perhaps, demanding an explanation. I give a dirty look or five, frown, cringe my teeth, and ask the simplest of them all; “why?”. I often miss it, it reminds me that I’m still here, awake, or perhaps not here, but somewhere very close. It assures me that