Imagine being reminded constantly, every ten minutes, that your wife is gone. Imagine never getting accustomed to the grieve, because it is always a new revelation. Imagine time never healing the wound, because in your mind it is always the morning when you last had coffee with her. Always raw. A merciless, griping pain with each heartthrob.

60 years. 

The woman who shared the warmth of your bed. He remembers her presence in the places they’ve been, people they knew, the routines they shared. The mind refuses to spare you the agony of heartbreak. The constant question. “where is she”. Dementia has slipped its unrelenting tendrils into the deepest recesses of my grandfather’s mind. The loss of a soul mate. The truth that never dawns properly. That takes strength

Everyone takes a little time on New year’s eve, on Christmas, on Birthdays to take a step back. Examine their lives. It seems the prerequisite before we are issues a clean slate. However on days like these when rain is outside my windows and the after effects of cocoa are working its magic, nostalgia naturally creeps on you too. It doesn’t really come as a surprise I guess, looking at how unfulfilled we all feel. At 18 we start feeling the weight of the world. All the 13 year old melodramas are our current realities. For those of us, the lucky few whom were lucky enough to have their place in the world, the rest look upon with envy. Unknowingly, we have succumbed to the ill fate that many adults are ensnared within. The monotony of work, family, and financial bemoans. We live for the pockets of moments where we are relive of this duty, of unrestrained laughter and mindless chatter. 

Dear you, someday I wanna be able to wake up on a bright sunny day. i would know, somehow, that today is going to be simply amazing. That’s the only way to describe it, no embellishments needed. I’ll saunter into the kitchen, the blankets draped around me still smelling fresh from the laundry. The kitchen would be as perfect as a scene from a photo shoot. Warm pancakes on the counter, stacked next to tall cold glass of juice. A bowl of fresh strawberries lie next to it, its colour as bight as stunning as the reddest of roses. My favourite music will come on the radio, as i close my eyes and dance nonchalantly to its rhythms. at that moment I’ll feel a pair of warm strong arms wrapped around me, as the music lulls into a slow step.

I was looking in the mirror today, like I’ve done so everyday. I saw those tired eyes, the limp hair, the crooked teeth. I saw the ugly marks on my face, the unequal proportions of my eyes, everything wrong all the more wrong. But yet someone thinks I’m beautiful,and he isn’t even a salesman paid to do so. Wouldn’t that qualify as a miracle in itself?

Catching an inspirational film can go both ways. You either attain an epiphany and charge gloriously at life, or take a look at your mess of a life and feel utterly disabled.

Dear you, in the past couple of days I’ve experienced rejection in more than one ways. I’ve grown up with the believe that I can get whatever I want, an arrogance backed by the absence of failure. I guess this is a taste of reality, where you are open to brutal ‘NO’s and nasty opinions. Your optimism is squashed as easily as a passing bug, and with each day your pride and ego is tamed. This has been a humbling experience but hey, you went into this knowing full well that luck is a fickle friend. You’re inexperienced, but for all it’s drawbacks, your youth is your redemption as well. You’ve got nothing to lose. So go on and fail, but don’t go down without a fight. show them the spirit of the nutcase, and fail with all the brilliance you can muster(: