There are some things that just come to you out of the blue. I'm sitting at work, reading the news on every website I can think of because that's what my life's work is supposed to be. And for some reason I'm thinking of the movie 'Midnight in Paris'. The one with Owen Wilson.

Owen Wilson's character in the movie wanted to live in the 20's because he felt out of place in the present age. He thought that the 20's were more HIM than the present and he felt disconnected. But then he meets a woman in the 20's who believes that the 1890's were the Golden Age. Given a chance she decides to stay in the 1890's and Owen Wilson's character can't see why because of course, to him the 20's were perfect.

It is the idea of the grass being greener on the other side interpreted differently.

And it makes so much sense. You might think that you belong in an older time or even the future maybe but someone who lives in that particular time probably wants to be somewhere else.

I think we get so caught up in wishing we were anywhere else but the time we are in right now that we forget there just might be a reason we are where we actually are.

Thing is, we probably wouldn't be wishing ourselves in another time if we just knew why exactly we are living in the present time. That is the fundamental issue. Not knowing.

I think I need to start working more. Sigh.

Empty

I feel like I've gone back in time. Like I've reached a point where everything I thought I had fixed, is broken again. A point where everything was wrong. A point that I thought I had left behind, moved on from.

But it's like I'm back. Like I never really left. The journey till now has been a sham, a lie, an illusion, a waste. Because I never really moved on from that point. I followed all the steps, did everything like I was supposed to, made all the choices, took all the shit; all for naught.

I never left. And every single day since then has just been an attempt to escape, to leave, to survive.

Now I feel like I should never have tried. That now, I should just stay. And accept things the way they are - broken, wrong, diseased. I'm tired of trying to leave and move on. I don't have the strength anymore. I do not want to continue mending and dealing.

Maybe it's time to just stop. And accept that things were never mine to change. That my life was never meant to be whole.

That all I have to call mine are empty letters, broken poems and an incomplete future.

There was this post that a friend came across on Facebook. He sent it to me and it got me thinking.

It said, "After 65 years of being together with her husband an old lady was asked how they did it? She replied, 'we lived in a time when if something broke, we fixed it. We didn't just throw it out.'"

Our generation is too impatient to bother fixing anything. A phone, laptop or relationship. We don't want to invest the time and effort in fixing it. "If it's broken then throw it away." That's our motto.

But we don't realise that there are so many things in life worth fixing. So many things that are actually better when fixed. The cracks and tape tell tales of care, patience and love. The glue and sticky fingers tell of time invested and something saved.

And honestly, the fact that you fixed it just adds to its value.

So I'm gonna fix things. And use all the glue and tape I can. Because just maybe, that fixed mug or mended relationship is worth it.

What is love made of?

It's the stuff of poems and legends and stories, but what is it really MADE of? Then again, is it really made of some "thing"?

Is it made of stolen kisses in an empty lift? Is it those walks around the park? Is it the SMS conversations that last the whole day? Is it the movies watched together, the plays enjoyed, the concerts attended? Is the playlist that defined so much you couldn't say?

Is it hormones going wild? Ideas which never existed before but suddenly become important? Chemical reactions in the brain? Intangible feelings overly romanticized?

Is it two people tied together inexorably and completely? Is it lust and passion?

Know what I think?

It is made of all this and more.

But essentially, I think love is made of shared breakfasts and lunches and dinners. It is when you miss the other person for something as simple as food.

It's funny how every single time you think things are okay, something happens just to remind you that they aren't and never were. That you just thought they were okay and that was just the calm before the storm. And that your mind conveniently forgot that the storm was coming. That just because everything looked good and felt good, doesn't mean it actually was good.

Life has a way of reminding you that no matter how hard you try, no matter what you sacrifice, it eventually doesn't matter. Eventually, it is all worthless. Because your wishes and dreams and actions and pain and your very existence are just that.

Worthless.

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

- William Ernest Henley

This poem has always given me goosebumps. Every time I read it. And recently I saw another interpretation of it.

http://zenpencils.com/comic/william-ernest-henley-invictus/

I love the way the poem goes so well with the art. So perfect. And it made me love the poem even more.

What gets me most about this poem is its simplicity. Simple words which communicate so much.

You crouch
And brace yourself
For the impact
Knowing fully well
That it is going to hurt
Very much.

And you close your eyes
Real tight
And you ball your fists

Waiting
Till the seconds fly by
Till the impact you know is coming

And then...
There is nothing.
You stand up
You're still on the train
And that wall you were supposed to crash into
Doesn't exist

Maybe it did at one point
But it disappeared when you got close

And you look forward
Still on the train
And now you can appreciate the journey even more
Because you know
How close you were to it ending.