Step Into My Shoes..

I'm not a people person. And I'm not proud of it. My CV might say I am good with people but only I know how big of a lie that is. I mean if you come talk to me, I won't hiss and spit at you but I have been known to straight up pass people by on the street without so much as saying Hi or smiling. My reason being - I just don't like indulging in small talk, especially when I don't have to. You're from work, we'll talk at work. You're friend of a friend, we'll talk when that friend is around. We went to Uni together, that was so in the past - if we aren't in touch, then we probably shouldn't be. There are so many measures I take in order not to have to go through the pain of small talk with someone, you'd be amazed. It's not because I don't like you or anything. It's not just you. It's everybody. Here are a few of them- The classic whipping out my phone to check something out Looking the other way to...

"All your life you wait, and when it finally comes, and are you ready?" Along with December 2017 came a crushing realization that my resolutions for the year had remained only partly touched. I knew I still had a month but who was I kidding. My resolutions had wings and they had already perched themselves on the next year, impossible to achieve as they were in a mere four weeks' time. The mechanisms of my mind on the day the realization hit very hard will always remain a mystery to me but I remember feeling like a caged animal, desperate to do something, to find an escape from the helplessness. One of my resolutions had been to get inked. But hadn't that always been on my list, year after year? The first time, I wanted to have my name in Tengwar, just like Fernando Torres has. Then I wanted to get a clover (wishes, wishes). I also was keen on a tulip. Deathly Hallows perhaps? Ganesha, or a Saraswati Mantra. The options were plenty and not enough resolve. ...