I like you too


Thank you for making me feel beautiful. For letting me realise that my ego and confidence isn’t something that I created out of the hot air of insecurities.

Maybe love could exist between the spaces of our fingers when we fist bump. In the pause between puns, and in the baskets of Cappadocia hot air balloons. In the awkwardly placed plane seat armrests, and floating in the stale air of the bus that drove 13 hours from Antalya to Cappadocia. Isn’t it funny how we skipped steps and did some pretty romantic shit together? Yet, we remind ourselves, baby steps.

I can’t imagine how you find the strength and patience to wait for me to sort out my life, and for that I promise I will. I’ll chase away the ghosts that broke my heart before I met you. I’ll clean up all my messes and hopefully, if you are still around, come back home to you.

“Walk with me, hand in hand through the neon and styrofoam. Walk the razor blades and the broken hearts. Walk the fortune and the fortune hunted. Walk the chop suey bars and the tract of stars.

I know I am a fool, hoping dirt and glory are both a kind of luminous paint; the humiliations and exaltations that light us up. I see like a bug, everything too large, the pressure of infinity hammering at my head. But how else to live, vertical that I am, pressed down and pressing up simultaneously? I cannot assume you will understand me. It is just as likely that as I invent what I want to say, you will invent what you want to hear. Some story we must have. Stray words on crumpled paper. A weak signal into the outer space of each other.

The probability of separate worlds meeting is very small. The lure of it is immense. We send starships. We fall in love.”
― Jeanette Winterson, Gut Symmetries


How I feel sometimes (blended into the crowd)

How I feel sometimes (blended into the crowd)

“Why must everything have to have a beginning and an end?”

– the BF while we debated over the existence of God. (I’m agnostic, he’s atheist)

Because. Because we find comfort in beginnings, we find comfort in happy endings, sad endings, endings period. Because we would then know our lives were more than just a speck in the space-time continuum.

A space-time continuum.

Even though it is against all my powers of logic, I still believe that everything needs a beginning and an end. Logically, the world exists externally, appears as discrete objects with no causation. We need our continuum, we need our stories, so we give them cause and consequence. We plunge our hands into the world and imagine we had a role to play in shaping it.

But I digress. I guess I can’t really call these writings the beginning, since I’ve done it all my life. The only difference is that I want to put these thoughts out there for all of you (yeap you, actually all of one of you) to read, and maybe you will have a different perspective, another lens that you can see through.

After all, writing is just providing another lens, a new pair of spectacles.

I just hope that through my speck of existence, I have given my lens to other specks so that we can continue to imagine that we can change the world.