I write & shoot (photographs) occasionally

Month: September, 2015

the sparrows are floundering in the haze because their solid resting ground has become obscure


in these moments i almost feel like i am not existing; a drifting presence, a person among people undetected. and we are all doing our things, the cars moving and the toddlers running and the friends talking and i am suspended before a glass wall looking out into the world, contemplating the remnant scenes of a movie i’ve just watched but haven’t understood. my mind is running and i am speaking to myself without moving my lips and i cannot even begin to tell what i am feeling or doing but all alone this feels strangely right.


somehow it felt like I would stay seventeen forever; for years and years and indefinite lengths of time. it felt like i would always fill in personal information with ’17’, summarise social media biographies with ’17’, be barred from watching M18 movies always. but i guess it’s the same inertia we feel every time a new year begins; writing 2014 behind the date and admonishing ourselves for absent-mindedness. pretty soon 18 will be normal- everything peters out into normalcy with time.

it just feels a little strange now, this small sense of being quite a lot older, being accorded more legal power, yet still living the exact same life. perhaps i will realise how different things are/ can be after all this is over, and the weight of a moment is really just what it is, not saddled with guilt and regret and extra grams of knowledge of opportunity costs that accompany every move. perhaps when i’m truly free 18 will welcome me with open arms.

today at 3.30am

the fear of being forgotten by those who matter to you is so real every time. tiny glitches in time thrown off course and veering undecidedly into space, floating and wandering through dark masses. yet time always wins, crackling back into life, propelling forward assuredly, confidently. hours pass and you enter the moment and it is so much more than what you’ve believed it to be. the forays into my negative imagination are always reduced and negated by the love that people can have, and that is what surprises me every time- that people bother to remember; bother to take out their phones and write 12am texts; bother to write a card; post a dedication.

the gifts are lovely, but at the end of the day it is the affirmation of friendship and love that i most appreciate; that feeling that washes over me anew when i re-read cards years down the road.

we all just have that one day which is absolutely special to us, and to others that’s just a passing day. but they’ve made it so special for me, and for that i am immensely and overwhelmingly grateful. i really shouldn’t fear if i can help it; not at all.