Blue, Pink, Grey

Blue, Pink, Grey

The strangest thing I’ve seen her do is build a sky on her own. She took a piece of paper and a blue crayon and started coloring from the top left. She colored diagonally, and when she was half-way through, I thought she’d stop and pick up a different color to finish. The sky’s never all blue. Sometimes a little red seeps in and it can look beautiful and at other times, it’s white, full of clouds, as if it is a clean slate for you to look at and reboot. It blushes pink sometimes because there are so many poets constantly flirting with the sky. And sometimes, the sky sees people for what they are and goes grey.

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How to: Be happy

How to: Be happy

What makes you happy? Let me know in the comments section below. Enjoy!

Come out of the metaphorical closet, that you thought kept you safe.
Wear your favorite hat and pull it off with a grin.
Lay on cold grass in the park and listen to the rustling leaves tell you stories of love and the wind whispering poems of broken twigs.
Binge-watch a tv series or cartoon. (FRIENDS, preferably.)
Talk to a stranger every once in a while and listen to their answer when you ask “What is your happiest memory?”
Wrap that cozy blanket, that reminds you of your loved one, tightly around you, and dream about sunshine and hope.
Believe in sunshine and hope.
Every now and then, when you walk on the street, do a subtle dance move and giggle endlessly. Hippety-hop.
When home alone, walk around naked and accept every part of you. Your body is a masterpiece, the finest canvas for your emotions.
Love someone endlessly and unconditionally.
Look in the mirror: Because trust me, you are beautiful.

Instagram handle: myspirals
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Related post: How to: Be poetry.

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13 reasons why.

13 reasons why.

Love is an eight-year old, flying around and playing all the time. His favorite toy is a bow and arrows. I am so sorry, but his mother had failed to teach him that violence wasn’t the answer, because every time she did, he’d pout and say ‘But I make them feel happy’. He didn’t get it, and neither did she. Did we?

Here are 13 reasons why you should fall in love, even if your heart is broken.

  1. Cupid insisted that it’ll make you happy. You’ll smile like an idiot, while everyone in the room sulks like a stormy cloud about to burst.
  2. It’ll feel like a cold shower after an exhausting day in the heat of your city. Every drop that’ll touch your skin will make you arch your back and sigh in relief.
  3. Love will be the band-aid, hiding and healing your cuts while you smile and move on with your life.
  4. It will taste like coffee, waking up every emotion inside of you with whispered promises of a forever.
  5. Because if you do, you’ll have a human blanket that’ll keep the temperature just right.
  6. Your dog always needs more love.
  7. Cupid’s arrow is made of fantasies, happiness, tears and a dash of reality.
  8. Terraces, homes and hearts will be a little less empty, and the world could use the help.
  9. It’ll give you the same happiness that you feel when you touch a new paperback. He will be your paperback human and coffee-bean love.
  10. Self-love will become much more easier with her lips on your neck and her arms around your waist.
  11. Love will sound like a child-hood story that makes you calm down and fall asleep.
  12. Cupid knew that a little violence, a small heart-break can be overlooked for true love. The eight year old was right all along.
  13. The sex, duh.

Yes, this is inspired by and is kind of in honor for the season 2 of Thirteen Reasons Why.

Instagram handle: @myspirals
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A villain who fell in love.

Is this a love story? I don’t know.

I was fourteen when I fell in love. The girl was beautiful. Not ‘eyelashes on point, pink lips and tiny waist’ beautiful, she was ‘fuck you if you think of me as a villain waiting for your opinion’ beautiful.

She barely liked me. Yes, we spoke till four thirty in the morning because she was blabbering on and on about her bucket-list and I liked every dream she had etched onto her paper skin with a pen-edged knife. She liked it, because who doesn’t love talking about themselves? (I know a lot of you don’t, but smile anyway.)

We met every day at school, and I would see her laugh. And no, I wouldn’t think about how pretty she looks as she giggles. Instead, I would laugh with her, cause the joke she had said really was funny.

I was fifteen when she said she liked me. I couldn’t believe it, but I didn’t ask her to say it again because there was a small doubt inside of me. A doubt that went ‘what if she changes her mind?’. And so I shushed about it, and we dated.

A little back story: A week before she said any of this, I had texted a girl (her best-friend) who liked me and things did not end pretty. My bad.

We dated for about a week, so it wasn’t really a relationship but I liked her and I wrote poetry for her and that is why I, at least, say that we dated. I wrote her poetry that had crazy rhyme schemes, and terrible grammar because two people who like each other don’t really care about that, do they?

She broke up with me and called it revenge, a very pretty name for a game that is no fun. I had hurt her friend and oh god, how could I? I apologized to her friend, cause in all honesty, I knew that was my bad and she deserved it.

I’ve lied many times after all of this, to the girl I fell in love with when I was fourteen. I’ve called her my muse and I’ve said I still like her.

It’s been two years and I’ve been with other people but something went wrong inside this futile human body or heart of mine. I look at people and I see them wearing masks, tip-toeing their way across the lives of others, throwing grenades and being friendly at the same time. It’s crazy.

I try to like someone, and I feel like I do sometimes, but I end up breaking their heart and making them what I am. A monster. A villain not waiting for your opinion.

I’ve been called a lot of things. Am I all of these things?

Am I a fuckboy? Maybe.

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The thin line.

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“Condemnation without investigation is the highest form of ignorance.” – Albert Einstein.

Criticism is healthy as long as it is positive and constructive. Things can seriously get messed up otherwise. There is a very thin but fatal line between positive and negative criticism. Positive motivates, but negative demotivates. One builds, whereas the other can destroy. Positive upgrades, and negative degrades. A change in tone, a wrong choice of words, or outright complaints can push positives over the thin line.

I have seen both sides of this coin, and the negative is not as pretty as the positive. It is draining me out, feeding on my doubts and insecurities, but I know I have to stay strong. Whenever any of my friend is upset, I always promise them one thing. That it will be okay. Wise men say people always have the solutions to every problem except their own. I have to believe it will be okay, and so do you.

Here is the deal.

[bctt tweet=”When you grind, your mind starts progressing. The spark of creativity burns all doubts or fears. ” username=”MSpirals”]

The light at the end of the tunnel appears. When you awaken the fire inside of you, everything lights up. But the darkness can return if the doubts or fears are called upon in an inconsiderate way.

You have to learn to digest a few brutal criticisms here and there, but you have got to learn to believe in yourself and keep the fire burning if the darkness tries to rise. It will not be easy, it will definitely not be over soon enough, but it will end and as once said :

“In three words I can sum up everything I have learned about life: It goes on.” – Robert Frost.

A healthy mind can handle criticism. It blossoms because of it. You have to, too. Positive or negative, keep improving yourself. Be the best versions of yourself. Learn to take criticism seriously, not personally (Hillary Clinton). Be positive. The flower will blossom, just work till the right season comes along.

And to all you critics out there, do what you got to do. Just be a better version of yourselves at it. Thank you, too.

Criticism should not be out-right disapproval. Make sure not to cross the thin line.

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Related post : A pack of color pencils.

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