She is Me | Who I Used to Be

Good Old Days

I wish somebody would have told me,
Someday, these will be the good old days
All the love you won’t forget
And all these reckless nights you won’t regret
Someday soon, your whole life’s gonna change
You’ll miss the magic of these good old days

Maybe these are the moments
Maybe I’ve been missin’ what it’s about
Been scared of the future, thinkin’ about the past
While missin’ out on now
We’ve come so far, I guess I’m proud
And I ain’t worried ’bout the wrinkles ’round my smile
I’ve got some scars, I’ve been around
I’ve felt some pain, I’ve seen some things, but I’m here now

-Macklemore & Kesha-

Just Call Me Elm or Something

There was a girl once that was afraid of saying “I love you” but after a while, she got over her fear and revelled in the blooming exultation of wanting to say it. That girl said it to someone, happy, smiling because it was correct and there was no fear attached, no turning back from the gaping yet welcoming truth. The idea of a feeling crashed inside her chest as waves on sand, shaking with the enormity of it; she carried it in her heart, a glorious gift of secret longing. Solid and golden, it was just beyond the hand of someone else, flittering; they kept it, shared, forever. Until it wasn’t.

There was a girl who loved writing. Words poured out of her, like expelling a breath; they tangled together in waves and shadows and created pictures she couldn’t see. She tasted the air and it echoed with words:…

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True Love

We speak of “falling in love,” as though it were a pit or an abyss

True love is friendship, highly intensified, flavoured with sentiment, spiced with passion, and sprinkled with the stardust of romance.

True Love can be no deeper than your capacity for friendship, no higher than your ideals, and no broader than the scope of your vision.

True Love, in the Broadwayite, is expressed by an insatiable craving to buy things for a woman.

True Love, in a husband, is expressed by his willingness to give his wife anything, from the tenderest piece of steak to a divorce, if it will make her happy.

True Love, in any man, is the essence of unselfishness; and the most selfish thing in the world. It is the selfishness that transcends selfishness; the vanity that puts egotism in the shade.

True Love, in a bachelor, is exemplified by his willingness to marry a woman—against all his instincts, his sense of self-preservation, and his better judgment.

True Love, in a born flirt, is evidenced by his inability to think of any other woman, while he is kissing a particular one.

True Love, in an author, is demonstrated by his self-restraint, in refusing to make “copy” out of a love affair.

True Love, in a college boy, is expressed by his ability to think of somebody besides himself for a whole hour at a time.

It is the flash of light, by which one sees clearly that to do for another, give to another, and sacrifice for another, will get one the most happiness out of life.

True Love, in the poet, is expressed in soul kisses, and by his inability to do any work for days at a time.

True Love is the light on the mountain-top, to which we must eternally climb. It isn’t the kind that endures through long years of absence, but the kind that endures through long years of propinquity.

It still exists, here and there, but in the face feminism, and the growing masculine determination not to marry, it may someday have to take a place beside the Dinosaurus in the Public Museum.


Title: A Guide to Men Being Encore Reflections of a Bachelor Girl
Author: Helen Rowland



A Guide To Men.

Reflections of a Bachelor Girl

The modern bachelor is like a blotting pad; he can soak up all the sentiment and flattery a woman has to offer him, without ever spilling a drop. He is so sure of his ability to dodge, that he is willing to amuse every pretty girl he meets, by handing her a rope and daring her to catch him.

A bachelor is a large body of egotism, completely surrounded by caution and fortified at all points by suspicion. His chief industry is dodging matrimony; his undeviating policy “Protection!” and his watch-word, “Give me liberty or give me death!” The average bachelor is so afraid of falling into matrimony, nowadays, that he sprinkles the path of love with ashes instead of roses.

A bachelor’s idea of “safety first” consists in getting tangled up with a lot of women in order to avoid getting tied up to one. He is an altruist who refrains from devoting himself to one woman in order that he may scatter sweetness and light amongst the multitude..

There is nothing quite so intriguing to a bachelor as flirting with the “idea of marriage“—with his fingers crossed. He just loves to “consider marrying” in the abstract and to go about pitying himself for being so “lonely.”

There are three kinds of bachelors: the kind that must be driven into matrimony with a whip; the kind that must be coaxed with sugar; and the kind that must be blindfolded and backed into the shafts.

If you want to be chosen to brighten a bachelor’s life, first make it dark and dreary; as long as women are willing to make his existence one long sweet song, naturally he isn’t anxious to exchange it for a lullaby.

When a man actually asks a girl to marry him these days of bachelor comforts and the deification of single-blessedness, she has a revelation of human unselfishness that stands as the eighth wonder of the world.

That tired expression on a bachelor’s face is not so often the result of brain-fag from an overworked mind as of heart-fag from overworking the emotions. Lovers look at life through rose-coloured curtains; old bachelors see it through a fog.

Somehow, a bachelor never quite gets over the idea that he is a thing of beauty and a boy forever! A bachelor fancies that it is his wonderful sixty-horse will-power that keeps him from marrying, whereas it is nothing but his little one-horse won’t-power.

The “vicious circle” in a bachelor’s opinion, is the platinum one on a woman’s third finger. A Bachelor of Arts is one who makes love to a lot of women, and yet has the art to remain a bachelor.

Never give up hope as long as a bachelor declares definitely, “No woman can get me!” Wait until he is so sure of his immunity that he sighs regretfully, “No woman will have me!”

Credits: The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Guide to Men, by Helen Rowland

Second Chances

There are some rocks on the otherwise smooth road, it’s life.

We live in a world of kissing many frogs before you find the right one, we have to dip our toes in the water for tries. Where the final test is to settle with someone whose little quirks you can handle. The whole process is a slow crawl while I would prefer a gallop. I tried to hasten the process but it won’t work my way: what a pique! At times I wish I could wave a magic wand or sprinkle some pixie dust and skip all those other frogs so I could meet the one already.

The ideal way to have a healthy relationship is to have things run smoothly from the very beginning. However, does it mean that a tough start can’t lead to a good relationship?

I have had friends complain about their relationships in the beginning: Significant differences in opinions, feeling like the relationship is one-sided, lack of communication, lack of financial support, unrealistic expectations, jealousy issues, insecurity, excessive reliance on social media which mostly amounts to emotional infidelity, sexting “internet friends” is a big one…the list is endless. Most of these relationships sadly end after a bit of back and forth.

Some relationships are difficult at the beginning. I think we all learn the hard way that even when you’ve found the right one your relationship will always require moulding and nurturing. I think we tend to forget that no one is a blank canvas. Everyone has some sort of baggage, some more than others. Sometimes they manage to break the pattern and choose to be better. I believe I have, so can you. My lying issues -I wrote a post about this earlier incase you missed it here is the link- Lies were too intense that my relationship with someone I still hold a great love for sputtered. Last night though, I was reminded that the tiniest gleam of hope does go along way. So loves whatever you are struggling with always remember your past doesn’t have to be your future. On the other hand, a person with issues has to work on themselves and not just wait for someone “to save them”.

Life has a way of throwing all of us off course now and then, it is how you and your partner deal with it together that matters. To sum up, let’s just say the possibility of a tough start resulting in a good ending is just an exception. I hope we all get second chances at love.



Contentment or Happiness?

There are many shades of green.

What does happiness mean to you? A kind deed?  Someone’s smile? Finding the right lover? Self-love? Or is it when your expectations get fulfilled that you feel happy? Too many questions right?

I think happiness is a temporary emotional state that comes and goes based on the situations that we face in life. Your insight or the manner in which you view life can also be considered as a key factor of happiness. If someone is materialistic, their happiness will depend on goals and achievements. This goes to show that happiness is very subjective. It’s fun, it’s exciting, but it doesn’t sustain.

Unlike happiness, which usually involves moments of extreme joy or elation, contentment is the long-term satisfaction or deep fulfilment that comes from the cumulation of good times. It can even be considered as a way of life. When you are satisfied with your current life situation and accepts the conditions, this creates an aura of contentment. In this sense, contentment involves enjoying the beauty of one’s life in a calm manner. Contentment is not influenced by external forces.

So much of our lives are geared toward the attainment of happiness, probably because it’s more immediate and it feels darn good. But contentment is what counts. Contentment requires an effort over time, and that effort might be disagreeable but the results are worth it.

Marianne Williamson’s words, “Whose race am I running?,” remind me how senseless it is to compare where I am to the success of others. I define what success is for me, and I alone decide if I am measuring up or not.

It’s my goal to live life with my eyes open, to let go of the person I am not, to own my story! It’s food for thought as I wonder why I don’t have that job, that body, stacks on deck or whatever. Maybe it’s because I never wanted it badly enough to make the necessary sacrifices, rather than a reflection on my capabilities. Maybe I had other priorities. I chose my paths for a variety of reasons and take pride in whatever I achieved along the way. When I’m ready to try a new direction, I am free to make a detour in search of a different landscape.

So while you seek to achieve either, I hope you always remember happiness adds a bit more spark to an already satisfied individual.



 Project Semicolon ;

Miles To Go

You know that feeling when you have been through a tone of bad experiences. The kind that leaves you with extreme hypersensitivity, a bottomless pit of the feeling you’re failing, but three days later, you feel you can do anything, only to end the week where you began. It is not learning from your mistakes. It is moments of knowing your pain is self-inflicted, followed by blaming the world. It is wanting to listen, but you just can’t anymore because your life has been too full of people that have judged you. It is fighting to be right, so that, for once in your life, someone will respect and hear you for a change.

It is a tiring life of endless games with people, sensation seeking. It is a hyper-focus, so intense about what bothers you, that you can’t pay attention to anything else, for very long. It is a never-ending routine of forgetting things. It is a boredom and lack of contentment that keeps you running into the arms of anyone that has enough patience to stick around. It wears you out. It wears everyone out. It makes you question God’s plan. You misinterpret everything, and you allow your creative mind to fill the gaps with the same old chains that bind you.

It narrows your vision of who you let into your life. It is speaking and acting without thinking. It is disconnecting from the ones you love because your mind has taken you back to what you can’t let go of. It is risk taking, thrill seeking and moodiness that never ends. You hang your hope on “signs” and abandon reason for remedy. It is devotion to the gifts and talents you have been given, that provide temporary relief. It is the latching onto the acceptance of others—like a scared child abandoned on a sidewalk. It is a drive that has no end, and without “focus” it takes you nowhere. It is the deepest anger when someone you love hurts you, and the greatest love when they don’t.

It’s not just about suicide and mental health but also everything under the sun that you can imagine that’s not good; Rape, sexual and physical abuse, bullying, neglect, multiple addictions, self-harm, toxic relationships, grief…

On those days you feel black and white, no alternative view, maybe it’s both! maybe it’s neither! When your body and brain make threats of passing out, I hope you remember you are not Atlas tasked with the responsibility of holding up the world by your shoulders.

A semicolon is used when an author could have chosen to end their sentence but chose not to. The author is you and the sentence is your life. In this short life, there is no time to waste on giving up. Your story isn’t over yet. You are a survivor, a warrior so fight on!

-For My Dear Friend Liza Sagini-


Starting Over, Moving Forward

Invisible threads are the strongest ties.

I still can’t bring myself to accept that he snipped our thread with scissors made of “sorry”. I have been stuck in this maze inside my head, trying to figure out if I want to start over or move forward. Truth is I am not ready to start over with someone else because he will stare at me while I eat my food not knowing that I am a slow eater. He will ask me to speak louder or tone it down a notch because he won’t understand my mumbling. He will see the cornrows under my wig and think “what a mess”. He will probably pick on me for wearing the same few socks not knowing my obsession for happy socks.

He won’t understand how much having my hand held when I’m having the tremors means to me. He won’t be able to put up with my god-awful singing which I completely adore. He will taunt me about my playlist not knowing how intense I like my music. He won’t know where my scars came from or why I flinch everytime someone moves near me. It will take all my strength to admit to another new soul how bad I want to break down especially when I have the prettiest smile on my face.

Many times we hear the phrase, “Just follow your heart.” But are our hearts reliable? Is what our hearts want, something we should follow all the time?Maybe there are times that we need to just follow what our hearts want but it is equally true that there are times that what our heart wants is something we shouldn’t follow.

A woman or man of value doesn’t love you because of what he or she wants you to be or do for them. He or she loves you because your combined souls understand one another, complement each other, and make sense above any other person in this world. Both of you have been travelling a parallel road your entire life. Without each other’s presence, you feel like an old friend or family member was lost. It bothers you, not because you have given it too much meaning, but because God did. This is the type of person you don’t have to fight for because you can’t get rid of them and your heart doesn’t want them to leave anyways.

If only you could really use a fail-proof system to know who was worth keeping and who needed to be left behind. It would make it so much easier to move through the world, picking and choosing what connections to make, or whether to make any at all.