It’s been days since I started talking to people and ask about themselves, trying to keep the conversation alive — because that’s the right thing to do.
But I just can’t help myself from wanting that thing to stop. What I want is to ask their names, be with them, and that’s it. Not ask everything about them. Because after all, we have so many days to be together and talk about those stuff.
No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world.
We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.
(Dead Poets Society, 1989)
You were the best part of me
The end of my very long story
The start of my first diary entry
The title of the song that used to be my favorite
But that was just a temporary thing
You are not the best part of me
Neither the worst
'Cause I'd been wrong
When I say you have been a part of me
Those were just a stupid thought
Just like how I thought
You can be the highlight of the thing
I consider an everything
i will wait for that guy who will hug and will look at me like this
It was the best and the worst part of that year - that day when I couldn’t explain why I’m smiling, why I’m staring at one place and just be okay; a day when I couldn’t hold my pen and start writing because the only word that’s in my head was you.
I was stuck at that moment.
I really didn’t know what to do.
I was stuck at thinking why did that thing happen.
I was stuck at that moment, but I didn’t care.
Until I realized, that it only lasted for a day. ‘Cause days after that, and weeks after that, and months after that, there’s nothing, just an imagination of me seeing you again, just an imagination that maybe tomorrow we could have a conversation, that you would message me, that you would again dare to approach me.
To the guy who took courage to approach me, rebelbeattt
I used to look at your photos every hour. I used to scroll on your profile and save all the pictures I like. I used to wait for you to message and call me.
But now, the only thing I can do is write poems about you, post it, hoping that one day you’ll see and read it.