The Diary of a Late Bloomer (64)

I would like to be the air that inhabits you for a moment only. I would like to be that unnoticed and that necessary.” — Margaret Atwood.

The Necessary Unnoticed

Yet came she to the same remembrance

‘Because the heart is beautiful it left her impressed’ the wind cast a subtle blow to the fellows questioning

The nessesary unnoticed, came slap her in a moment brief

Like a ghostly substance traveled and made subsconcious remark

In a subtle possible way, but at the same time in a way it was solid and sound: round

The necessary unnoticed, yet remain charmed the mind in flux to unconditional constancy
Present unfolded future folded mystery; should carries on she with the dear in mind, the necessary unnoticed

What bygones, every finite moment that passes, doesn’t necessarily remain bygones. Every visit teaches us lesson. If we keen enough to take a moment’s silent to learn what lies beneath it.


The Diary of a Late Bloomer (63)

the time has my back, keeping an eye on you

Hear my heart, even in your soul

I still love you just the same

Should the heart had an imaginary bell

It echoed the ‘thump-thumping’ sound in rapid beat

Like it should when it crossed another half

Like it was meant to be coined in tandem the hearts of two

Like it was the working of conspired universe

The pounding is predestined known not the reverse

A moment of instant cocksure, razor-sharp acknowledgement to whom the pounding served its rowdy beats

It got mine heart only mystified

Was it justly justified

To then only leave again untied

To still let the flow of stubborn seconds

Make the two tandem hearts coincide

listen to my heart see my eyes shutting

So let me confess that

When I see you it is in my heart

The Diary of a Late Bloomer (62)

What is easier said than done

I met the girl accidentally again today, there is this bursting feeling. Forgiveness is not so easy a practice. But then, I took a deep breath, it has been long passed. It makes me calmer by then. There is no point holding grudges for too long. If God forgives the sinners why can I not? (It’s not like I’m a saint either). Everyone deserves a second chance, a better looking what is inside them. Isn’t identity ever changing? For the better or worse. Everyone deserves a newborn of their identities. Make white the black paper.