.... and I Will Be Flying On a Broomstick

If you think I don’t miss you, I might need to have a word with the stars. They promised me they would pass on my message to you. You know, they have this giant communications network spreading across the night sky. Maybe there was a glitch in the network. Looks like even the stars can’t keep the promises they make these days. If you think I don’t miss you, I might need to remind the moon again. I told him that I miss you. But he’s getting forgetful. It must be because he’s been around for a long, long time. Sometimes, I see him staring down at the bright city lights with a sad look on his face. He seems to be thinking of the old days when he used to be the star of the midnight show. If you think I don’t miss you, I might need to shout a little louder to make sure the wind heard me when it passed me by. I whispered those three words into the wind because that’s how you’re supposed to say according to the books. But I guess its hearing capability is no longer what it used...

I thought I would write a story. We all know every story begins at that one particular point in time, don’t we? So, my story started out like this: "Once upon a time, I have come a long way with this story I am writing. Will it have a happy ending? I don’t know yet. We will have to wait and see. It’s still being written as we speak. I am not that concerned with the ending. It’s the middle part I am worried about. And I will admit this. I tend to lose the plot sometimes and I have to flip back through the pages to remember. To remember what I have written along with the mistakes I made, the words I crossed out and the characters I have forgotten. Some parts I couldn’t have written any better. Some parts I could have and should have done better. But there’s this one rule. I can’t change what I have written. One shot is all I get with this story. No editing the chapters I don’t like. No tearing out the messy pages. That’s why I am more careful now although I still make ...

Sometimes, I’m in a court. There’s the jury who barely knows me. Standing in the witness box, I can see their cold judging looks. That’s when I feel like it’s me against the whole world. Sometimes, I’m on the running track. I am running with everything I have. My legs are burning. My lungs are ready to burst. Ahead of me, I can see those people. Those people with their stronger legs; they run so much faster than me. That’s when I feel like giving up because I doubt I will ever be able to catch them up. Sometimes, I’m in the big city. It’s so easy to get lost in the busy streets and the never-ending flow of traffic. I’m just another nameless face in the crowd. That’s when I feel so small and insignificant. Such times, I stand alone on my own and I place my hand on my heart. That’s when I feel my dreams, my hopes, my love, all beating away quietly. And that’s when I find that courage to carry on, despite the fears, the insecurities and the doubts.

Once, there was a man. During a walk, he "fell head over heels in love". Love was like a hole. At first, "falling in love" was scary. But it was also a rush. A thrill. He thought he could fall forever. But it came to a stop. Now, he realized that he was "helplessly in love". After some exploration, he found that the hole had several buttons he didn't even know were there. He pushed one accidentally and a trapdoor appeared. And that's how he "fell out of love". The END

  It’s the city.  Sky-scrapers loom overhead, effectively blocking the sun. These giants spawned by human ingenuity and craft are everywhere, looking down at you from their vantage point in the clouds. Then, there are the billboards. Sirens in the sea of modern consumerism. Calling out to you and luring you in with their sweet words. Oh and the lights. Like someone trying too hard to prove something, they shine too brightly with forced enthusiasm. The big stores with their sliding doors, gobbling up people into their shiny showrooms. The powerful force behind the stream of traffic, pushing forward relentlessly. The city. It’s always in transition. The traffic lights, the trains, the trends. The city. It’s alive. Always hungry for more. Throbbing with the flow of people. The city. It’s where I am. Waving and drowning in the sea of a million other faces.