Starters
In a quest to make life a tad bit interesting, something known as a fiction cooks in the mind. The plot hasn't thickened yet and in order to save you (loyal) readers from monotonity, I shall serve you (mentally) digest-able proportions of the afore-mentioned. Just a note before you start : I'm extremely fascinated by writers who unravel their stories in the present tense. Although I never really had any patience reading them and personally didn't find the style quite appealing, I've decided to give it a shot. I already fear the outcome!
So what if you’re happier alone? Romance, it’s all in the novels. It starts, blossoms and ends in those very books. Yes, so you have your own stories to tell. Of dates, romances, one-night stands, flings, crushes, loves. Over-rated. Big time. What does it do for you? Someone you can own to keep reminding you of your strengths even when your weaknesses are shining out of you like the sun? Ha. When is it that people will remind themselves of their strengths? That’s what you call security, being secure. Secure to that point when you need that other half to make you whole again. Insecurity, goodbye. You’ve taught me all you needed to. You’ve changed me. Changed to the extent that I don’t even know who I’m looking at in the mirror now. Thanks a bunch. It’s over now.
When he was young, the boy didn’t do much else but find comfort in things. Objects, the non-human type stuff. Then, one day, he grew up. That immaturity sure had its repercussions – his phone book was bloody empty, save a few emergency numbers which were probably obsolete by now. And as fate had it, at that point, those green bills actually sold his happiness ounce by ounce every time they were given away.
Screw it. I can find someone. I’ll go home, they’ll never refuse.
Bags packed at the speed of light (sound?), there he is walking away from the one place that always welcomed him with open arms. Anti-social. He instantly realizes that it was also the very place that blocked everyone else out and using that as his strength, he wipes a solitary tear off his cheek as he settles in to the front seat. Anti-human, almost.
So what if you’re happier alone? Romance, it’s all in the novels. It starts, blossoms and ends in those very books. Yes, so you have your own stories to tell. Of dates, romances, one-night stands, flings, crushes, loves. Over-rated. Big time. What does it do for you? Someone you can own to keep reminding you of your strengths even when your weaknesses are shining out of you like the sun? Ha. When is it that people will remind themselves of their strengths? That’s what you call security, being secure. Secure to that point when you need that other half to make you whole again. Insecurity, goodbye. You’ve taught me all you needed to. You’ve changed me. Changed to the extent that I don’t even know who I’m looking at in the mirror now. Thanks a bunch. It’s over now.
When he was young, the boy didn’t do much else but find comfort in things. Objects, the non-human type stuff. Then, one day, he grew up. That immaturity sure had its repercussions – his phone book was bloody empty, save a few emergency numbers which were probably obsolete by now. And as fate had it, at that point, those green bills actually sold his happiness ounce by ounce every time they were given away.
Screw it. I can find someone. I’ll go home, they’ll never refuse.
Bags packed at the speed of light (sound?), there he is walking away from the one place that always welcomed him with open arms. Anti-social. He instantly realizes that it was also the very place that blocked everyone else out and using that as his strength, he wipes a solitary tear off his cheek as he settles in to the front seat. Anti-human, almost.
