Join me on the dark side

I’m generally a cheerful person. I’m usually full of love, life, and happiness. I open my eyes in the morning and feel excited to be alive.

There was a time, though, when it wasn’t so easy. When blinking and breathing and speaking all took so much effort that I thought I may as well give up: I was in a dark hole of sadness and anger and confusion.

I didn’t think I was gonna make it, but you did.

For the friend who stood by my side through the storm: the one who held my hand and never let as much as a finger untie from our grip, the person who could see through my darkness when I wasn’t able to.

For the beautiful soul who believed in transformation, who believed in healing, and time, and growth. Who never once judged me for my heartache, grief, and anguish.

Who, when the world was torture to live in, gave me a piece of hope, a breath of fresh air, and a tiny scrap of faith that things might begin to change.

For the friend who was delicate with their words and capable of pushing me forward. Who didn’t mind coming to join me in the dark corner, who actually came and sat with me for a while.

You endured my aching mind, heart, body, and soul. You crawled inside me and frantically looked for the broken pieces that I couldn’t find myself. You pulled me through an impossible tornado that I thought was going to eat me whole.

You loved me at my worst. You never gave up on me. You saw through my opaque pain.

You made me smile when I couldn’t do it myself. You spoke words for me when I was lost. You looked me right in the eye and knew that I wouldn’t be like this forever.

You knew. You waited. You never left.

Dear friend, Thank you.

Something borrowed from a deep soul, dedicated to the soul that is deeper than the galaxies the solar system can engulf ❤


The woman who takes off her clothes to make an impression

What is love? Ever been in love? Well yes! Several times. It is the most basic human instinct you can possess I assume right? And yet we complicate it by mixing it with emotions and needs otherwise unnecessary.

Hey! But what do I know? I am the woman that caters to the whims of the pathetic and I take my clothes off to make an impression.

“Think. It’s the new sexy!” – Sherlock: A Scandal In Belgravia is S2:E1

The intensity with which Irene Adler meets the eyes of Sherlock Holmes is fascinating and so intriguing it almost makes me want to question the basic instinct of life – Is it love or lust? Confusion. The character though played by actors bring to life the very existence of love we find, analyze, understand, confuse, mix, use deadly concoctions of and take for granted! The chemistry so strongly defined here is so intense that it blurs the very line between love and lust. So does this mean that taking off my clothes even before he can undress my mind is the new way to love? Taking off my pretentions, the disguise, the materialistic nature in my personality and down to nothing but the battlefield suit which I wear at birth is what will humanize my need to love.

Or is love like the person you meet during a Halloween party. You know the one where for a change you are normal; Just for that one day in a year and everyone wears a mask and you don’t need to hide yours! You gaze over the 10s of people at the party and your eye meets the one mask that seems the same as everyone else yet makes you feel different. The one that gazes back and you can’t believe what they see! You know exactly where they are looking, what they are thinking and it feels all too familiar. The kind that gives you goosebumps only to realize you felt that way hours ago.

Fools rush in, where wise men never go
but wise men never fall in love,
so how does one really know?
Shall I stay in the nude, would it be such a sin?

I lie in all modesty yet naked to my last bone, only because I took my clothes off it doesn’t mean I’m making a perfect expression. The Shakespearean sonnet, Kahlil Gibran, r.m. Drake and Oscar Wilde set us up to fail at love, this is why I will always win at sex! Sex is never the issue here and my lovers will testify.

Sex is not the issue, it is love. The basic human instinct is what I fail at!
Because ‘I love you’ after is mostly returned silently and met with tears, hence never used.
‘Let’s fuck’ comes naturally than ‘I love you too’.
The more I use, the more I feel used.

Irene Adler just before her execution texts Sherlock to say goodbye and closes her eyes, only to hear the sexy moan text tone. As she focuses her eyes open to Sherlock as the ‘Arabian Knight in shining armor’ who saves her into the world of cliché as she is clad in the black burkha from top to bottom. The depths of love is could be made out to be unimaginable as it power plays in their heads as lust, pride, greed, envy and wrath. Yet, they both stand fully clothed and are met with just their eyes. Is it still lust that power plays their mind?

Or maybe it’s just two people in love trying to save each other.

Will I ever know what love is without taking my clothes off? Will he ever know?

“It’s easier to lift skirts and bunch them on the waist than,
Lift broken spirits and stop them going to waste.”