Often, not always.

Often, not always.

What problems of your life are you willing to tackle? Tell me in the comments section below. Also, I added a donate button in the footer of my page, so any one who’d like to use it, is appreciated. Love to all of you, fam ∞


The existence of one,
Often justifies another.

I sometimes face a writer’s block,
But it validates my existence as a writer.

An eighteen year old woman,
Carries sanitary napkins in transparent bags,
Because things are changing.
The twenty-four year old however,
Covers every inch of her thighs and cleavage,
Because things aren’t changing,
As fast as they should.

A boy aged fourteen is in the gym,
And every one is shocked and downhearted.
A seventeen year old boy has love handles,
He is fat-shamed.

You are facing a financial crisis,
Your money is now around your neck,
Instead of growing on a metaphorical tree,
But it validates your financial existence.

The existence of one,
Often, not always, justifies another.

A fifteen year old is cutting her wrists,
But not her veins,
So that she dies only a little.
Because this pain will help her forget,
A part of her life.
Bullshit.

A thirty year old is watching a television show,
And is late for work,
Because he doesn’t like his job,
And it isn’t working out anyway.
Bullshit.

I don’t tell her I love her,
She’ll see my chapped lips and hear my slurred speech,
Laugh like a devil disguised as an angel,
And say no.
She definitely won’t say yes, will she?
I am scared and so, reluctant.
Bullshit.

Often, not always.


Instagram handle: @myspirals
Previous post : You believe me.
Related post : Hearts

Give me prompts in the comment section below and share if you liked this!

Kisses.

Kisses.

Comment down below the story of your most cherished kiss, or your first kiss.


I’ve kissed you a thousand times,
Each time a little differently.
The first time,
I pinned you against a wall,
and looked into your whiskey eyes,
on your sunset lipstick,
and on your flushed cheekbones.
I kissed you with passion.
I’ve always wanted to die,
And you tasted like poison.

The tenth time,
You had sand in your hair,
and attraction in your eyes.
Vodka lingered on your lips,
And every story inside of me
That needed some courage,
Tasted you near the blueberry waves.

The sixtieth time,
We were naked on a red bed-sheet,
No eyes prying to find the secrets of my hollow heart,
or of the stories hidden behind your mountain chest.
I kissed you,
Your chest pressed against mine,
My hands on your inner thigh,
And you tasted like water,
My goddamn necessity.

The last time I kissed you,
You were crying and shivering,
I was stunned to silence,
As if a bullet had gone right through our hearts.
The kiss tasted a little salty,
and it tasted like the last fucking time,
I kissed you.

Infatuation,
Attraction,
Lust,
Love.
I have kissed you a thousand times,
And each time a little differently.


Instagram: myspirals
Previous post : Damn, your eyes.
Related post : Kisses and cravings.

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Happy Guide: A Giveaway

Hey!

hg-cover-half-size

Happy Guide (amazon) is a totally new concept and unique in the world of health. It lays out a crystal clear vision of a happy and healthy life and gives you powerful tools to achieve it. No other “health and happiness” book states WHAT to change and HOW to change, in a clear and precise way that anyone can use.

So, I am collaborating with the Author and his half-brother to bring this giveaway to you. We will be giving away three copies of the book in either a paperback format or e-book, depending upon your choice. This is an international giveaway.

QUESTION:

“What is one change that you want in your lifestyle?”

The rules are very simple and are as follows:

COMPULSORY
● Answer the question in the comment section below. (For 3 entries)
● Follow my blog. (For 1 entry)

OPTIONAL
● Repost any one of my blogpost on your blog (For 5 entries)
● Follow my Instagram : here (For 3 entries)
● Head over to my Instagram for additional ways to get more entries.

Before you comment, do the others and then come back here, answer the question and write a small list of everything you’ve done. You can answer the question on Instagram, too. The winner will be chosen randomly on Saturday at 9 P.M. (IST) , so the more entries you have, the more chances there are of you to win.

It starts now (7 P.M. IST). I can’t wait to read your answers. All the very best.

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
Previous post : A villain who fell in love.
Related post : It’s okay.

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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.


Instagram handle: @myspirals
Previous post : The thin line.
Related post : It’s okay.

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