I just want to write .......Dammit

"Does it always have to be a purpose that would make me write ?"
"Why can't I just write and stop thinking about how that would make me look?"

Summers,hell I can write about that obnoxious season that makes the whole world install goddamn ACs in their rooms and make the planet hotter.
Yes I am associated with Greenpeace.

Well just writing about this godforsaken season makes me sweat through my eyes.
Love could be a nice topic but when you have something in abundance you don't feel like writing about it cos that just makes the feeling commonplace.All I can say about love and my love is that they make me smile everyday ,and I should mention it's a really difficult task ,pleasing me.

So that brings us to square one.

How about dreams ?
Last night I saw the world being attacked by gigantic zombies who also doubled as aliens.They didn't kill us but forced us to go underground.And then our psychiatrists found a way to hypnotize them into making slaves to us (That's sounds like out pan-universe oligarchy). I know I disappointed you,you might have expected a little more action but blame it on the movie I watched yesterday.Vampires and witches and spirits should sound like scary no ?
But it had me in splits for a good part of the movie,even in parts where the movie makers didn't intend on making it funny.



Maybe I should just go to bed.


Will try and have an objective from tomorrow.

:(

My first poem

Once upon a time

In a faraway land

Lived a girl

Happy as d isle

Who longed to love

And loved to smile

Then she met him

A boy named Sky

Who,they say, was born to fly

Sparks flew,and then she knew

That she was meant for him

But soon he had to go

to a place where he'd make his dreams come true

And the girl named Isle

Lost her smile

She wrote him letters many a few

And he wrote back

Saying that he missed her too

Time flew,and then they knew

That there is more to it

Than meets the eye

They tried their best to make it work

But alas!It couldn't stand the test of time

And so in the midst of chasing their dreams

They had to wave each other goodbye

This is the story of the boy,who,they say,was born to fly

And the girl,well she was meant to write

And here she sits and wonders how time flies by

And about the boy named Sky