Over and Out.

A double century.

Who will sustain?

Seventeen

And I want to be seventeen again. The innocence with which I loved, the affection with which I fought and the simplicity with which I explained. Was it me or was it him. He made me a better person. I learnt his language and understood his gestures. He either smelt or felt my presence. He was easy that way. But he was a bad teacher. He taught, but didnt teach all. He didnt teach me to adapt. He didnt tell me that world becomes as you grow and you become as the world grows. Im lost. I dont smell him but I feel him.. all around. My friend, my teacher, my guru, my lover, my all... Me.

And now after that drunken dream, I only smile and drop just .. just about one tear.

Love,
Me.

Competition

The comparison will never end.. not in my mind.

A new picture brings new complications. Even physical labor for 12 hours couldnt spoil my evening as this did.