tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80493761725971813632024-03-04T21:28:44.217-08:00Oober GooberMy pot for word vomits.Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.comBlogger30125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-29306894925743399832014-08-21T23:19:00.001-07:002014-08-21T23:19:48.118-07:00-<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All my I love yous will be wrapped in a hello </span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like my legs were, with yours. </span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All the cold sighs will be locked in an instant </span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like my lips were, with yours. </span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">longing stares with be shortened </span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like my sorrows were, with you.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The butterflies will be pinned down </span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like my body was, by yours. </span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And my heart will wander and mind will be unsettled </span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like my eyes would, looking for you.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">little by little, </span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">you took away a lot of me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and little by little, </span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I walked away from the fire.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">from the one burning me,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">to the one burning in me. </span></div>
</div>
Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-60225603949045775792014-04-19T23:41:00.003-07:002014-04-20T02:15:00.293-07:002 a.m thoughts. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Sitting here after an exhausting day I'm on the phone, trying to answer the most confusing question "Why did he leave?" Honestly, I don't know. Of course that's not what I tell her because that's not what women do. Instead I tell her that's what men do. That's how they are. </div>
<div>
I know this isn't true. </div>
<div>
I firmly believe that people don't break relationships, situations do. Though what the situations make of them, is entirely their choice. And if the situations have made them a shithead, please show them the door. </div>
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<br></div>
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I've been dealing with a break up for over two years now. I've heard people say that when it hurts for too long, there comes a time when you just snap out of it.</div>
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I'm not sure if I don't want to be in love. I'm aware that this decision could be a disastrous one but life's too short to not love anyone, at any point. </div>
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Though I've stopped asking the questions. I hope every woman I know, who's dying over her man, stops asking the wrong questions. </div>
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These questions include "Am I too ugly for him?" "Is it the weight?" "Was it my fault that I spoke to xyz guy which led to a fight?" "Why isn't he calling/texting back?" etc etc</div>
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By asking these questions you're not only demeaning yourself but these are the things that REALLY don't matter. </div>
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You could change everything about yourself and he'd still not love you.</div>
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Simply because that's not how this relationship thing works as contrary to what we've been told. </div>
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There's no makeover that could bring him back to what he was in the chasing days. </div>
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<br></div>
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Don't construct your world around him unless he's doing the same. In any case, it's harmful. Why? because the relationship is not your identity, it's just a part of it.</div>
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Speak up, dress up and do whatever you feel is right without the constant fear of your man. However, do it because you want to and not to spite him. If fear is the driving force of your relationship, please reconstruct it.</div>
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Stop fooling and blaming yourselves. Stop trying to make him something he's not and don't try to be something you're not. You are in love. Not in an experiment. </div>
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<br></div>
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</div>
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Instead ask if his contributions are significant in your life. If you've let him in, is he nourishing your life in any way. </div>
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Whether he's stunting your growth and line of thought. </div>
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If you turned up at your worst, would he be there? Not ready with a 'told-you-so' but with a could-crush- your-bones hug. </div>
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If you have to give up on something for him, would he do the same for you, when the time comes?</div>
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If you have to give time to other priorities would he be patient? exactly the way he expects you to?</div>
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<br></div>
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Healthy relationships, as I've come to understand, are more about the right balance and less about having the upperhand. </div>
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And in them, there's no such thing as being only the giver or receiver. Unless you find that person, don't settle. </div>
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Settling for something you don't deserve is as weak as running away.</div><div>Be strong, focused and fearless because that's all you need to be. </div>
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Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-52641516643365990372014-02-21T12:20:00.002-08:002014-02-21T12:20:35.317-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
There's nothing much enticing<br />
Than a journey made with fire.<br />
Let me inside again.<br />
Where I'll meet your ignited mind<br />
And restless heart.<br />
Tell me stories of you<br />
The valour of your unsettling soul<br />
When the dark corners of your mind,<br />
Were the only ones who you spoke to.<br />
Let me take your heart and glue it back<br />
And I promise not to miss the bruised edges.<br />
This time around give me your hand<br />
And I'll hold it tighter<br />
Each time you run,<br />
I'll run with you.<br />
Be my fire, be it.<br />
Please.<br />
Tell my mind it's wrong to think<br />
'what if you're the labyrinth,<br />
The one I'll never figure out?<br />
When to you<br />
I am,at most, a difficult but 90% solved crossword?<br />
Lying in some corner, given up upon.'<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-14360341455490535012013-11-18T00:11:00.000-08:002013-11-18T01:51:02.718-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Unlearn<br />
<br />
It took a while<br />
but he did well<br />
he got in and you let him.<br />
<br />
He taught your mind<br />
your heart<br />
and your body<br />
to stay put.<br />
Around him.<br />
Or was it all you?<br />
<br />
And now you have to unlearn him.<br />
<br />
Unlearn his words<br />
his touch<br />
his smell<br />
and his kisses.<br />
<br />
Ripping yourself into pieces<br />
or waging a war<br />
or dipping yourself into fire<br />
All of it seems relatively easier.<br />
<br /></div>
Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-11417909016122221892013-10-11T23:22:00.000-07:002013-10-12T01:00:13.922-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhof40Zh2tbRUnXxU2klicBJn6plT3paPF6IVnLCymUW5d_w18jt06pilpkK3n7Nc-lsaSg4-5i38EJDR_G-Q2zAqD7TnWTzFNNB9uZvBrOd0Q0FZPZMqh_faH22uRghvNnBDWOWKiUhynd/s1600/543095_4583483070114_2129145864_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhof40Zh2tbRUnXxU2klicBJn6plT3paPF6IVnLCymUW5d_w18jt06pilpkK3n7Nc-lsaSg4-5i38EJDR_G-Q2zAqD7TnWTzFNNB9uZvBrOd0Q0FZPZMqh_faH22uRghvNnBDWOWKiUhynd/s640/543095_4583483070114_2129145864_n.jpg" width="395" /></a></div>
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Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-58527772016379052562013-08-22T00:57:00.001-07:002013-08-22T03:02:57.906-07:00Only so much. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Somewhere in the battle between false alarms of the heart and reality checks of the mind, you tend to forget what love is supposed to feel like.<br />
When love seemed to barely exist, we didn't let the boat sail through the storm. Only to know that we'd never have the chance to unchain it from the shore.<br />
How conveniently we placed the unrequited love on top of the line against the likes of love which could save us from all the pain and drama.<br />
You grew to think of the love you never got, as the love you must have. That it would be your only shot at happiness.<br />
<br />
Then began the constant struggle to relight the fire, rekindle the spark. To change anything and everything to make it happen because to you, you were just right for him.Consequently came a point where you were out of matches and this only brought a calmer sea in your head.<br />
This is when slowly the memories stopped shaking your core. Gradually your heart grew stronger. This time all by itself. Your hand stopped aching to be held and you stopped tracing back to him in every breathing thought. You realized memories are just that. You began to forget the bitter details even so the sweet ones. You stopped blaming him for breaking you and you know now that it was the only healthy thing to do. You forgave him.<br />
You still love him but not like you used to and your frenzied, obsessive ways have been tamed. Thank god for that.You began to recollect the mistakes you've made far better that the ones he did. Then you forgave yourself.<br />
<br />
The bell jar above your head and heart dissolved, you accepted things with more humility than grief. You took the biggest needle and burst the bubble you once found comfort in. It's a story that is taking time to fade in your mind but you know it'll be fine.<br />
<br />
Relationship hopping was my thing until I met you.You changed that and you changed me. It took a
while to get here, to see I wasn’t the same perry in your eyes anymore.Love after
love drained the romance out of me. Innocence had left the building leaving a
few traces here and there. Maybe it is true, maybe you really have to lose everything
to start afresh.<br />
You stopped me from going over the edge and turning again
into the emotional monster I once was.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
At the end of all this I know we were two people who saw the best and worst in each other. Who once built their lives around each other. Two solid,good people but only their balance wasn't right. The timing wasn't great and the ropes loosened up at different times. I finally learned that there's only so much you can do to unlock a once closed heart.</div>
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Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-65601850940495866222013-07-28T08:52:00.001-07:002013-07-28T08:52:15.877-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GnkzvAXWV-0">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GnkzvAXWV-0</a><div>
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For days with zero motivation to look at the brighter side. </div>
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Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-60138849878461300532013-07-11T10:30:00.000-07:002014-08-07T09:58:58.168-07:005<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You become like the five people you spend the most time with. Choose carefully.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I came across this quote today.</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> If it were to be true, </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I would be creative, mature and ambitious. Well, at times i'd be lost as to where I'm going but then I'd steer back. I wouldn't mind being stubborn if it gets something done, for someone's good. I'd be cribbing at one moment and contradict my statement at the other. All because I've seen the storms to know that it'll go away. I'd have a contagious laugh and would laugh at all of my best friends jokes because come on, she's hilarious. I'd love her in ways she wouldn't know. Always protective and always supportive. no judgments, no expectations.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I would be stylish, friendly and impulsive. I'd love to party but I'd hate alcohol to the bits. I'd love food like it's my job. I'd make over the top plans when I'm high. I'd have an unforgettable personality. I'd hold my friend when she's crying and love her without saying it. I'd be grounded and take each day as it comes with my warm smile.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I would be pretty but never admit it, intelligent and hardworking.I'd accept what life throws at me like a mature adult. I'd even accept death and loss like one. I'd be sensitive at times but I'll smile in the next minute. I'd also love my sibling unconditionally with all her flaws. </span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I would fail at making any conversation sound boring, embrace the changes in my life with an envious calm and be strong hearted. I would be aware of the coolest things. I'd never let my success get to my head. I'd also forgive continuously but not necessarily eloquently. I'd be a person of details. I'd always look before I leapt.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> And look some more. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'd love to travel and find beauty in simplest of things.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I'd be honest and straightforward, to the core.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I would be brotherly and unbrotherly. I'd tell a girl she's pretty and that she has a moustache. I'd always be there, always talk like a realist but i'd also break down if my lover said anything hurtful. I'd always find ways to go back to her because I'd believe that I could get this right only once. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't know if this is true but if it were, how can I be anything short of awesome? </span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm only grateful to know my super five. (cannot think of a cool name)</span></div>
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Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-92010331136692707852013-06-18T04:17:00.000-07:002013-06-18T05:30:32.084-07:00..<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Today's inspiration came from</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<i><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;">"Use what talent you possess: the woods would be very silent if no birds sang except those that sang best." </span><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Henry Van Dyke</span></span></span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">So here's a little note from my phone which wouldnt have made it to</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">the blog due to excessive self criticism:</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">As i sit in a cozy brown seat, only beauty passes me by.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The lime green of the trees is better than my similarly coloured shoes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The constant game of the waterfalls is better than any I've seen in a while.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Ofcourse the big fish eats the smaller one but it all ends in perfect harmony, I'm sure.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Endless raindrops pattern my window.Sometimes in a sublime,perfectly aligned pattern and sometimes in a muddy,frenzied one.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The trees play with my mind as they lean in to greet my train and I'm almost decide that I've not felt this welcome in a while. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">My sister's head rests on my arm as we silently look out of the window.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">This silence, has been hard to find.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Listening to some good music, sipping on some surprisingly good coffee and eating jam rolls with her, as we watched and gasped at the sheer beauty of nature, I could say I had a good day.</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span></div>
Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-84494614832141628762013-05-23T10:56:00.000-07:002013-05-23T10:56:18.077-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Then there are days when you're out of your depth and staring at the window for a new post starts getting painful.<br />
Not painful really, just unnatural. I'm at it since almost 8 and it's been 3 hours.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
I watched amour, listened to some music and then watched friends with benefits.<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> JUST BECAUSE IT WAS ON TV AND I HAD NOTHING TO WATCH WHILE DRINKING TEA. </span></div>
Point being, I had all the inspiration to write(friends with benefits not being on the list) and way too many thoughts piled up.<br />
I just can't find the right filter for the ideas or the apt words.<br />
I have no clue why am I even posting this gibberish but then I had to write. I just had to and this is NOT getting backspaced.<br />
<br /></div>
Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-91628558680883713452013-05-02T02:51:00.003-07:002013-05-02T07:27:33.631-07:00House warming. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A new house, a new job and a new city. This is all you wanted, to leave the trainwreck behind. The walls are painted in blue, your favourite colour and it couldnt get any better. You take out your newly purchased coffee machine. You bought it this morning,finally. Your new fascination point it will be. You waste over 10 minutes with the bubblewrap thinking, it's probably a sign, to let the child in you finally come to life. Dancing your way to the new yellow tiled kitchen, you plug in the toaster, the microwave and the fridge. Taking little steps, alone this time. Probably for the best, your thought once again.<br />
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mmm nothing like freshly made coffee. You devour the bitter aftertaste, similar to the one that she left in your mouth. Not her, not again. You look at the dull boxes that have positioned themselves all over the new house.Counting them would be a good idea and so you go on 1,2,3 .. and you wonder how they fit your world in just 9 boxes. 9, that's the last digit of her phone number. No, stop. The sun is too harsh in this town and you definitely need curtains. Unlike your old hell where you never really thought of windows until she discovered one lucky window to let out the smoke. It suffocated her she claimed, why wasn't she dead already. You wanted her to die, a slow painful death and hear her scream out your name. Only yours, not his, nobody else'. Then you'd be the hero again, the one who saved her. She always needed saving, I'd like to have a pizza, the bag is too heavy, the zipper is a scum, the world is a scam, this house is a living hell, these pants just dont look right, I hate my hair, I'm too depressed:look at me!, my world is full of nothing but problems. Your little victory jar that kept filling with each time you made it okay only to make her say what would she possibly do without you. Then the jar got too heavy, the perfect words got too difficult to fetch and the nails she dug into your heart got too painful to endure. I hate her.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<u>Box number 1</u>, tagged as clothes but opens up with books. Always messing the tags, I shouldn't have tipped them so well. The imbecile never understood your love for books, said you're on a flight that is too far from reality. Like she'd know, the alcoholic is going to tell you what's real. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Box number 2. Cushions. A box full of cushions, when the hell did that happen? Oh her backaches. Annoying little screeches coupled with 'my back is dead today, pass over some cushions will you?' Buying cushions made that weirdo so happy and now you have a box full of oddly shaped, too rested cushions. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Box number3. Clothes. Probably the lightest box around. Her rights and wrongs on clothing never really let you buy much clothes. Whatever that there was, half was hers already. You wonder if she'd be wearing the shirt which she shamelessly claimed as her own one night. The colour looked good on her, her skin tone really brought out the purple she said. Even though you scoffed each time she said that, you knew it did. You look for her smell, if it's still there on your clothes. Obsessed with smelling good, that should go on her gravestone. Berries, fresh flowers and the salty musky scent of her skin. It drove you crazy. Each time she'd spray it on you'd leave the house 5 minutes too late. Fill your head with her scent and a smile would be plastered on your face the entire day. Enough. </div>
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<div>
Box number 4. Utensils. There were knives, little glass jars, pans,pots. Too much equipment you'd gladly murder him or her with. </div>
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<div>
Box number 5. Shoes. You neatly stack them, your lovelies she called them. How can you love shoes so much? What you couldnt explain to her was the rush. The rush each new pair gave you. Twenty browns, ten blacks and numerous running shoes. The twitchy feeling in your toes when you'd walk in a new pair. Like a troubled kid, they would get tamed with time. You like fixing things. Always been your favourite right? What were these pink duck print socks doing in your favourite running shoes?<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>You're getting warm, the sinking feeling is getting too much. You need fresh air, at the wine shop is where you find it. Two bottles. Number one is half dead already. Taking a large sip, you sit down near box number 6.</i><br />
<br />
6. Has frames, the drill box and other hardware equipment. You look around and make a mental picture of which frame goes where. The frame with your family picture in it needs some gluing. She dropped it one day and placed it exactly where it was. Not a glimpse of apology or guilt in those eyes. Maybe she still believes your never watched this little show of hers.<br />
<br />
Box seven. Miscellaneous. Books, some cutlery, two t shirts, stationery, an envelope. The envelope. Full of the little things she wrote to you. 'Will be late' post its, your birthday poem, I love you's in her annoying handwriting, the unfinished short stories which were more often put to a halt by your carnal wants. Something about watching her write was always irresistible. Sitting with her legs cross folded on your bed, hair tied in a loose bun, her eyes concentrating too hard, the faint smile on her lips, her slender fingers moving in a rhythm- how could you not love this sight.<br />
<br />
Box number 8. Black plastic liner wrapping the bedding. This wont do, it's for two. Maybe you'll throw this one and buy a new one suitable for the single bed. <br />
<br />
Number 9. Empty. Filled with the obvious.<br />
<br />
<i>You had whiskey for lunch and dinner. Amusing.</i><br />
<i>Walking into the kitchen, you pick up the new coffee maker and with shaky hands, place it in box number nine.</i><br />
<br /></div>
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Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-16890489118702300342013-04-22T13:43:00.003-07:002013-04-22T13:44:05.907-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">“</span><span class="quote" style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 19px; margin-top: 0px; outline: none 0px;">Dear Baby, I hope someday, somebody wants to hold you for 20 minutes straight and that’s all they do. They don’t pull away. They don’t look at your face. They don’t try to kiss you. All they do is wrap you up in their arms and hold on tight, without an ounce of selfishness to it.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">” </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">This quote=Yes please. </span></div>
Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-59354496384105839702013-03-04T09:37:00.003-08:002013-03-04T09:37:17.450-08:00My happy pill. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
If you want something and if it has to happen, no matter what goes wrong, it'll find you eventually. <div>
Well it did happen when I saw her, on the stage, being brilliant as ever. </div>
<div>
I was so bummed about not going to uk and had no hopes of watching her perform. everrrrr! </div>
<div>
and then it happened. One fine day my younger sister wakes me up from my nap, shakes me and tells me norah jones is coming to mumbai! My first thought? Vibha needs to know!</div>
<div>
From that day to yesterday and to today, it has been a journey. We were excited like one of us was getting married (like Vibha's teacher rightly said) and well.. sipping on some beer, watching some good bands put up outstanding performances, waiting for NJ and some more waiting, holding vibha's hand when she walked on to the stage, hearing her, watching her and singing along to her transcending music is one of the best things that has happened to me, so far. </div>
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Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-74056827595071719422013-02-24T23:56:00.000-08:002013-02-25T00:26:07.278-08:00I have consumed you. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
You know I have. I tried reaching where nobody was let in and maybe I lost. I know I still cross your mind. I know. As high as our walls are for each other, we have something which will stay with us, consumed forever. A part which wont return to us again. Only for you and I to keep. I'm happy, yes. Goodbye.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IlKnfrLuT_8">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IlKnfrLuT_8</a></div>
Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-18881181590858817062013-02-11T02:03:00.003-08:002013-02-11T02:03:38.324-08:00Murakami, You drive me crazy. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's weird how this man can bake a happy delicious cake in my heart and then destroy it by building a tornado. If you are what you read was to be true then I'm dead. I'm living in some street in Japan. Eating without gaining weight. Have beautiful big eyes and pin straight hair. And I can talk to cats. Or am very calm about the weirdest of things happening around me.<br />
In another context, I think I've reached my homeostasis. Or atleast am in the right direction. :)<br />
It's funny how you don't want any of your past experiences attached to you future ones and yet expect new people you meet, to behave in a certain way. Ironically, I say this after messing up things with a really nice person I met.Damn you impulses!<br />
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Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-36556275576678956762012-10-30T12:12:00.001-07:002012-10-30T12:12:59.622-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Her cigarette finds its way out of the golden box. She looks at the box for a while, the horrid picture of a man with something that looked like cancer, makes her light one with ever more ferocity.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Her tattered orange kolhapuris have walked a little more than they should have today. The wanderer left from nowhere to nowhere. She loved this. She got lost until she could feel the rush of being found. The happiness she felt was unmatched when each time someone was worried and came looking for her. She loved the almost teary eyes seconds before they let a sigh and called her name.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">She was waiting for him this time. Doing the things he hated, doing whatever she could to get him looking for her.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">She inhaled the smoke deeper than she usually would have, just to feel the smoke go down her wind pipe until her eyes closed on their own. Her throat felt dry and tongue,bitter. Just like his words. Time and again. It was difficult for anyone to accept that it was his genes that had shaped her. Nothing about them was alike. Physically or otherwise.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">His hair was turning grey and his heart colder. The one which couldn't love her mother. The one that couldn't love her. Or maybe had loved too much. She didn't remember him smiling or talking too much to anyone. With those strong eyes and sharper tongue he could intimidate possibly everyone. That's the reason why people hated him so much. She was nothing like him and that's the reason why people loved her. She was the most vulnerable girl they'd ever laid eyes on. Men especially loved helping this damsel get out of her distress. Obviously she'd return their favours by feeding their egos with sugar coated lies.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Today she wanted him to come for her and nobody else. She painted a picture of his face when he'd see her. Almost lifeless and barely emoting anything. It sent a chill down her spine and gave her goosebumps. Oh this can be cured she said to herself and gulped down the leftover rum from her purple flask.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">She looked up at the sky and watched the blue beauty with the madly placed spots. There's nobody for you and I'm not going to take care of you, that's what she said to him last, in her mind this morning. Then she left, left the table,her house,her lane,her city to come here. Where they were once happy. Her eyes welled up as she remembered her mother whispering into her tiny ear that if she told daddy that he's the best dad, she'd get an icecream. Obviously she did what her mother asked of her and then he picked her up,smiled wide and hugged her tightly. Maybe his only hug which she remembered. She looked around and there was no trace of him as yet. She knew he'd come, even out of anger he would.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">And then he did. She heard his car and froze out of fear and happiness. She didn't know that turning her head around would make her see this. His eyes traced with worry and teary as he called her name.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">She smiled, dusted the sand off her clothes and walked back to him.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Maybe to his love and maybe to an unexpected hug.</span></div>
Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-62546518264002924762012-10-30T08:24:00.001-07:002012-10-30T08:31:08.481-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div>
Since life is pretty much being a bitch to me, I decided to make a list of the things I CAN do. (Yes, publicly. Cute no? No? No.) </div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>kill someone right after I wake up. The only trigger being someone trying to hug/kiss/talk to me. </li>
<li>make bearable chocolate tarts. </li>
<li>procrastinate.</li>
<li>sing norah jones' songs which can make up for the worst covers?</li>
<li>shut the hell up and watch a sunset. </li>
<li>talk about anything way too passionately. (minus sexual undertones almost like a person with OCD) </li>
<li>pretend to look intelligent in class. </li>
<li>pretend to look dumb in class. </li>
<li>doodle an entire book. </li>
<li>eat an entire pizza. </li>
<li>run for 3 minutes on the treadmill. (any longer and I can faint too) </li>
<li>finish a book in a day without moving my ass. </li>
<li>read about psychology for hours without getting bored. </li>
<li>avoid getting glasses due to my awesome genes. </li>
<li>brag incessantly about myself,people I love, stubble and Sherlock. </li>
<li>laugh while being mad. laugh in any inappropriate situation basically. </li>
<li>get bored while making lists and stop. </li>
</ul>
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Okay bye. Will blog more often with lesser self-obsession. </div>
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Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-35189142568999251932012-10-23T00:37:00.000-07:002012-10-23T00:37:25.332-07:00Yes. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-6405417273097095282012-10-22T09:30:00.002-07:002012-10-22T09:31:45.013-07:00And here's the end to the perfect mess. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Sometimes, all you can do is stop your thoughts.<br />
Block them, burn them and not let them get through your door.<br />
It doesn't matter why or for whom but you just have to put on your brave mask and march on.<br />
It could change everything or it could change nothing.<br />
Honestly, If you have been bending backwards to save something, stop.<br />
<br />
It will just complicate and add to the clutter. The worst part will be when.. you know it's not even going to count.That the truth was a completely different story, the one which you never could've imagined.<br />
The truth will burst the bubble you were comfortably living in (without knowing of it's existence). Then throw you off a cliff and yes, a really high one. And when you hit the ground, you'll get shot at. Just to check if you're dead enough.<br />
This post was a result of the fuckery happening since a few days and <a href="http://www.vibhasuvarna.blogspot.in/2012/10/how-much-exactly-is-too-much.html">http://www.vibhasuvarna.blogspot.in/2012/10/how-much-exactly-is-too-much.html</a><br />
Well, I think I've crossed the line of too much. It's time to stop running in and away and finally lay my head in the arms of acceptance. How romantic! </div>
Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-81975751761688333602012-08-17T12:22:00.001-07:002013-04-03T10:58:30.169-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Why am I not dead already? </div>
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Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-47487118165069240952012-08-16T04:56:00.001-07:002012-08-16T05:18:17.813-07:00Getting there. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcS5MridE6R7KETdrcAYbq6jEcvJvWQGwgi3SAVJX0x8d9M4HGqfkaUPlbwtQ2Qf07wGxlBWBc7G7fmYsW_Li8nzoVUKCD1Febvsw_JATeTmmzSXgpjOuQXh3vVQZzqswEKI27zSqZnVIf/s1600/IMG01385-20120428-1836.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcS5MridE6R7KETdrcAYbq6jEcvJvWQGwgi3SAVJX0x8d9M4HGqfkaUPlbwtQ2Qf07wGxlBWBc7G7fmYsW_Li8nzoVUKCD1Febvsw_JATeTmmzSXgpjOuQXh3vVQZzqswEKI27zSqZnVIf/s400/IMG01385-20120428-1836.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Arambol, Goa. Where nothing existed except for chilled beer bottles and laughter. </div>
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. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSZFCGcABG8xPYUCdZJBqmmovnFEtzhC0wveg6aMWzVjVx-XcuYI0VxUtL9eMqmEk4L2_t_6jn6Fr3_BMA-Dv22b0EZ6pQsvsrXGEb69mQMnxk9xoM3y8T1XATPC0gLG0EA1NmHd-i5MVV/s1600/moto_0842.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSZFCGcABG8xPYUCdZJBqmmovnFEtzhC0wveg6aMWzVjVx-XcuYI0VxUtL9eMqmEk4L2_t_6jn6Fr3_BMA-Dv22b0EZ6pQsvsrXGEb69mQMnxk9xoM3y8T1XATPC0gLG0EA1NmHd-i5MVV/s400/moto_0842.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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To moving on- No. Memories. No Memories.</div>
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Reflections in the best mirror. </div>
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Two books = two friends.</div>
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Devil's in the mailbox.</div>
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Incredible book. INCREDIBLE.</div>
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The sea of separation and reunions. </div>
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When i shut off the lights, you're missing. </div>
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Kauwa. Aur kya? :-P</div>
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Click photos, make memories and type on your worst days. Life will be fine. </div>
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Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-36857008563805780672012-08-03T11:53:00.000-07:002012-08-03T13:36:05.687-07:002.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBrrDWPL7ueZWTBsn8o-UdD0MVpY6bZ7frES5APLAQMs_kDFJ9SYTPrwAtUZt0bfiYBXJ25GeqbuMeubogjIflghwztgJxoIVVs7VfpauiMMQ1XDxdobc4ezLNr3DjFjjYejdrCGxUngtg/s1600/lt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBrrDWPL7ueZWTBsn8o-UdD0MVpY6bZ7frES5APLAQMs_kDFJ9SYTPrwAtUZt0bfiYBXJ25GeqbuMeubogjIflghwztgJxoIVVs7VfpauiMMQ1XDxdobc4ezLNr3DjFjjYejdrCGxUngtg/s400/lt.jpg" width="223" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Two years to this bittersweet love.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Two years ago on this day there was a reunion.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; text-align: -webkit-auto;">A reunion that would change everything, forever.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="color: #222222;">He was a part of my childhood that I vaguely remembered and of course he rarely crossed my mind until 4th august 2010. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not sure of whether it really was him, I took a risk. Good move? The best. :) </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Two years of talking endlessly about the most random things, food, music and ofcourse us. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even though things arent what they could've been, I'm happy that you existed. as a part of me. sometime.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All I want to say to you today is <span style="font-size: xx-small;">thank you</span> <span style="font-size: x-small;">thank you </span>thank you <span style="font-size: large;">thank you. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />Thank you for being so patient with me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />for always suggesting that we should go and watch the sunset. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />for understanding the weirdest of my mood swings. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">for letting me be your lemon tart.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />for making me so mad that i could've strangled you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />for being the only person I know who loves butterscotch.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />for not being embarrassed of me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />for being the imaginary father of my imaginary child (.....)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />for always knowing which video will make me smile/cry/laugh/shock the hell out of me and linking me to it ONLY when it was appropriate. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />for hugging me like i meant the world. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">for all the wars. Yes! wars. (even the ongoing one)
</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">for listening to even the crappiest of music suggestions i gave. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />for telling me that my hair smells nice. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />for asking me "where was I all these years?" when I did something good.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />for making my world perfect. So perfect that no one could resist being jealous. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">for being my best distraction. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We may be on a parallel level as of now but...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">H, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You still are my vapour trail in a deep blue sky. </span></div>
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</div>Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-62654693064029084492012-07-07T13:57:00.001-07:002012-07-07T14:06:39.889-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Once insecurity hits anyone in a relationship, the boat has started sinking.<br />
It will make you do and say crazy things. Do things that you wouldn't dream of doing.<br />
Anything to come back to the shore and lie on the warm sand.<br />
However it wont happen. Everything will sink.<br />
<br />
(In a different context)<br />
This song! Thank you Haruki Murakami for stirring my emotions and still keeping me sane with your writing. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lY5i4-rWh44">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lY5i4-rWh44</a></div>Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-55969542384842927502012-06-30T06:56:00.000-07:002012-08-03T11:56:15.156-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Some men are not born to blend into the crowd. They are to stand out and decide what the crowd is supposed to look like. </span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap;">-ME ME ME. </span></span></div>Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8049376172597181363.post-17346888732468815742012-06-28T08:11:00.003-07:002012-06-28T08:17:54.426-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VJovqpbjpao">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VJovqpbjpao</a><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Someone love me, but not today,<br />Will you show me? Show me a way, how to love</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><strike>Got me.</strike></span></span><br />
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<br /></div>Blueberry Gumlin :Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11549025785975661752noreply@blogger.com0