sometimes I wonder if I think like other humans.
I think about odd things.
I act in an odd way…
one might tag it as craziness and another might tag is as uniqueness.
yes mistakes are inevitable, but my mistakes are “priceless”.
odd right?
it’s like my life is replaying right before my eyes
if only I could press the fast-forward button, get to the interesting part.
“c’mon I knew this will happen……..”
“uhh!! I’m not surprised……..”
between the “why??” and the “oh noo!!”
is the “chill the end is perfect”
and along the way, parts worth replying in a million times.
if my life was a novel, you will get lost between the pages and get back on track at the last 10 pages.
crazy ain’t it?
if my life was a movie, you would impatiently anticipate the ending.
and so I’ll let it play on and look forward to the ending.



I once wrote about my difference with so much confidence, undaunted and certain it was a unique one.
I once said I don’t listen to how people say the world works.
never knew I would be in a state of total give up. never knew I would be looking for the real me.
so?? I make odd choices.
so?? I look beyond the surface.
it’s cruel that society has made some certain ideologies, cultures crafted by what we consider “norms”
I want to be different.
I want to be recorded as the unique one.
stand out from the crowd,
dig out the truth to the surface.
repaint that wrong picture and show you why diamonds are rare and are found underneath the ground.
I want to be me, but society wants me to be a replica of humans,
play a role as part of the ideologically accepted human crafted culture.
I want to make a difference, discover, and explore but society is content with just the human routine achievements.

But what if I was made to achieve something much more than that?


I used to think that writing is a skill.
I used to think I just had to hit those punchlines to be great, had to be outstanding and a pro.
but I got to realize the greatest version of a writer is the unedited version, those parts where you just want to be you and pour it all out.
no rhymes, no perfect similes, no poetic lines.
That moment you have this absolute “whack” piece and you look down on it and about to shove it aside and then you realize that by just mere Reading it, you experience the feeling. “that feeling”
let Me be poetic!
that feeling that kills the doubts in you and buried them in self-appreciation.
that feeling that awakens the realness in you and tells it you are amazing! keep doing better!
that feeling that takes all your faulty and “not so poetic lines”, your spelling errors, your doubts and self depreciation, and all your perverted ideas and weaves it into a masterpiece a beautiful art that lets people in through the door of words
then makes the room conducive through the windows of imperfection.

I used to think writing is skill, but i discover that writing is an undiluted expression.

The future I picture

This is the story of my “blink-of-an-eye” future. I like to close my eyes and picture a future with lots of echoes from applauses, standing ovation from the crowd, as I stand on that iconic stage putting on that “I knew I’ll make it” smile on my face and a deep sense of fulfillment resting within me.
A future where I could sit and reminisce with those amateur draft that form the foundation for an award-winning icon.
A success themed future where the word of the day would be “congratulations”!!
A future I could be a source of inspiration for the former “me”.
As I open up my eyes, I get awakened by the realization that I have a lot to do in accord to that future.
I get fueled up for greatness!!