Little things

I count on little things like blessings. The morning coffee, that last scoop of ice cream, bed, pillows, sheets, half read books, half eaten cookies, videogames and a hell lot of sleep. I take the same route to work, I miss public transport and the random people I encounter. The staircase keeps me company, it…

Routine – collaboration

I reminisce the same old memories, cry for the same reason, laugh at the same joke and write the same thing over and over again. Life itself is repetitive, what’s there in routine? There is a rhythm in chaos. I sway to the beats of psychedelic laughter; memories sneak out of my eyes and roll…

It comes and goes.

I just don’t understand how the world works at all. I was jobless but happy then I was working and miserable. It’s only after I got out of college that I was interested in learning. I am surrounded yet I’m alone, they sat with me, ate with me and lived with me but not once…

Good morning.

My eye is on fire; there’s soap in it. I run into the wall trying to get that bristle stuck in between my teeth. I should change my brush. My toe hurts, I hit it against the bucket. What a morning, eh!? The door hits my knee as I open it and I slip while…

I think, I don’t.

Thinking is hard: It’s like I can’t think when I try to think because my thinking fails to realise even trying to think is also thinking. What do I think about ? That mirror that makes me look at myself even if I don’t want to ? Or that tap that keeps leaking no matter…

Routine.

“It’s gonna be okay” I tell myself as I get dressed; almost ready for work. There’s breakfast on the table; not my favourite but it has to be eaten. Breakfast is the least complex thing to start with in the morning but it somehow stirs discomfort in my half empty stomach. Every step I take…

Mundane.

Maybe the worst thing we can do to ourselves is to be unhappy and being content with it. There are a million things bothering me and another million to be happy about but when was it ever about numbers? We have our preferences, don’t we? That’s all that matters. I long for something I don’t…

Routine.

Mario always fascinated me. As you play through the stages one after another, you’ll notice a repetition; certain stages reappear with little changes and a few new characters that hurl their shit at us. Then there’s a fire breathing demon spitting fireballs out of its mouth, one hit and we’re toast. You beat your ass…

“broken”fast.

“Too much water.” I thought and ran back inside, emptied half of the bowl and walked outside. “The flame should be thin.” Had to rush inside again. It took ten minutes to figure out how thin it must be. “Make sure to use some oil so that they don’t stick.” Mom yelled from the other…

Every morning.

Looks into the mirror; Oh! it’s you again. Walks away.

Life right now.

When things are the same, we crave for change. When everything changes, we miss the routine. Life, being itself.