Dreams are like clothes. People grow out of them. And then they need to be modified a bit for them to fit again. The stitches need to be let out of the pants, maybe a belt needs to be bought, the shirt might have to be mended.

Sometimes though, the old dreams need to be thrown away, even though the oldest things are the most comfortable. It's like throwing away that tattered blankie, or the oversized shirt with holes in it which smells and feels just right. Like old dreams, which don't fit anymore.

Yes, this coming from a hoarder like me is a little contradictory, but I've understood that some things need to go, only to make place for better ones.

So those old dreams, though comfortable and just right, need to go. Or need to be modified, fixed. Whatever makes them fit better.

Because hey, what else do we work towards but making those dreams come true.

It's four!

I just realised it.

This blog, a dumping ground for my ideas, fears and everything in between, turned four this month. Four years this old thing has been chugging along. Collecting all the bits and pieces I have fed it over the years. Sometimes one post post per month, sometimes none, sometimes more; it has taken it all and stored it away.

A testament to me.

Four long years it has been since I decided I wanted to keep writing. With or without readers. With or without comments.

My first post was on Aug 12, 2008. And it's belated, but HAPPY 4TH BIRTHDAY, THINGS AND THOUGHTS!

And to all of you who have read and commented and stuck with it, thank you.

Here's to you, dear blog.

Broken poems

Later
Soon
Never
Just words so casually spoken

Promises made
Easily forgotten

Hours spent
Watching the seconds tick down

Waiting
While everyone rushes ahead

Tiptoeing
Through broken glass

Every sentence measured
Edited
Chopped down

A life on hold
Trips never taken
Memories never made

A future
Never to be

Thoughts
Taboo
Forbidden

Dreams locked away
The key hidden forever

Empty letters
Broken poems

I am tired

I am tired. Bone tired. I can feel it in my body. In my head.

I am tired of being strong and being the one who's collected and calm all the time. Of struggling every day to keep my sanity. Of holding the world on my shoulders.

I am tired of taking the fall when I don't have to. Of beating myself up over things I never had to even do. Of feeling guilty all the time. Of apologising and taking the blame.

I am tired of waiting. And watching. And waiting some more. Of convincing myself that this is the way things are, when I know they aren't supposed to be this way. Of staying in the same place, stuck in time. Of being patient.

I am tired of counting on someone and having them fail me, every single day. Of making excuses for other people's behaviour. Of cutting everyone slack while keeping my own line completely taut.

I am tired of saying everything is alright when it really truly isn't. Of being an outsider after I have opened my heart. Of always being on the periphery. Of working so hard to please only to be shown that I am worthless and have no place belonging. Of being nobody.

I am tired of getting up every morning after a restless night full of nightmares. Of being angry all the time.

I am tired of reaching out and finding that there is no one there. Of always being there come hail or high water, and not having anyone there for me. Of spilling my guts and having it all completely ignored. Of giving and giving some more while getting nothing in return. Of caring and not being cared for in return. Of loving and not being loved in return.

I am tired of planning, only to have it blow up in my face. Of building, only to have it kicked to smithereens.

I am tired. Inside and out.

I am tired. And I don't know what to do.

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.