Dear diary

How do I fit you into a box?
How do I categorize you based on your likes and your dislikes if you keep changing them every day?
Sometimes I think you are a psychopath, but you seem so nice.
But aren't psychopaths supposed to be nice people? People who imitate being emphatic and nice.
Your answer to "What would you wish for if you had three wishes ?" was "Nothing".
Nothing? Really? Not even "Eat anything without gaining weight?" or "Lifetime supply of the most delicious chocolates and ice creams?"
Maybe you are just a really smooth talker and a very closed person.
But aren't these qualities of a psychopath?
...
I was reading the diary entry I made on the day I met you.
I cannot believe I thought that you might be a psychopath.
What did I even know of psychopaths really?
Now that I understand you better and like you and love you and cannot imagine my life without you.
There I said it, I cannot imagine my life without you. You.
You, I like. You, I love. You, I cannot live without.
Look at what you have done to my sentences. I am barely making sense anymore.
You.
...
I need to keep telling myself this. So, I am writing it down.
What happened was an accident. It was not intentional.
It was a prank gone wrong and nothing else.
What happened was an accident. It was not intentional.
It was a prank gone wrong and nothing else.
What happened was an accident. It was not intentional.
It was a prank gone wrong and nothing else.
...
Things have transpired which could have been stopped.
Bad things have happened which should have been stopped.
Whose fault was it? Who should be blamed?
...
Life will not be the same without you.
Look at what you made me do.
Your body a shadow of your former self, your eyes closed, you could just be sleeping.
But we knew it was hopeless all along, dint we?
Even though you insisted otherwise, I knew.
Look where we are now,
Me standing near your coffin, thinking about all your pleas to not do it.
Look what you made me do.

P.S: Needless to say this is fictional people.

Every time I want to write something.

I end up not writing anything.

So this is me not trying to write.

Not making any sense and not even thinking too much about what words I put here.

Just typing.

Not here to get comments on my posts or increase page view of my blog.

This is just a shout into the loud chaos that is the internet.

Squeezing in five minutes from a hectic life which mostly consists of hitting the keyboard repeatedly trying to make sense of things and things of sense.

Just searching and wondering where it all went. The passion, the get-me-a-pen-and-paper-I-just-thought-of-a-world-changing-blog-post writedness (Not even trying to make sense right now)

So, hi there. If anyone is still listening or reading.

If you have read till here know that I already love you.

Why settle ?

Why would you settle?

When your eyes still dream of skies.
When your heart still beats for more.
When every nerve in your body still craves for highs.

Why should you settle?

Try

One foot in front of the other,
One word after another.

Places reached, sentences written.

Why do we need memories ?

Why do we need memories?
We could do without them.

Why think about past summers or bygone rains?
Why dwell on the winters of loneliness or autumns of happiness?

Come live with me in the present.
Love yourself right now.

No reminders of insecurities felt.
No flashbacks of all the failures.

Take away the reminders of love gained or lost,
Take away the thoughts of all the misheard words and held back sentences.

Why do we need memories?
I can so do without them.