Sipping this liquor, making you listen.

Sipping this liquor, making you listen.

That slow burn wait,
Traveling through the throat
Settling down the chest
In the midnight summery days,

We’re swept away by breeze
In a balcony’s corner
Where the lights hung low,
Ceiling so high, life moves slow.

I know it’s dumb.
But I still want you to listen.

Just start listening,
As I carry my burden on my chest
Listen between those sobs and silence
Such a burden
It’s just burning

So, maybe just hang with me?
Just bear it with me,

Till the sun shows up,
And we chase our directions.
Until then,
Just hang with me.

Running around,
Always with that pretence of fun
Heads up, hopes down and shoes off
I shun everything under the sun

At least I can admit “I am fucked up” over here
The least I can do is be messed up over here

They don’t know me well
And my rants of midnight rush
They will never understand a sinner
Nor Brutality of an evening crush.

So, please just hang with me?
Just bear it with me

Till the sun shows up,
And we chase our directions
Until then just hang with me.

And if we ever,
Ever run out of topics
We could always belt out radios hits
And obsess over our usual blown up shit.

I hope the sun never shows up.
I wish I never had to grow up.

Just us,
Listen as sea of my thoughts splashes,
Watch each other burn into ashes,
Then, heal each others gashes.

So, just hang with me.

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Humdrum home with the bricks of passion.

Humdrum home with the bricks of passion.

“mama said that it was okay

Mama said that it was quite alright

Our kind of people only had a bed for the night

And it was okay”

So family business heh! It is something my entire life has intertwined with. I really don’t know when was the exact time I understood we were “different”! But something inside me tells I knew it all along. The struggles I juggled through most of my teenage years were either by girls or my queer lifestyle.

My mom commenced our small retail business in our house way back in late 80’s with the budget of Rs.10, 000. Mean while my dad was doing his service in abroad. Couple years later he slid back into the famalia biz and there by our family business took a turn. From a small chocolate & chips shop my dad and mom successfully turned it in to an average retail grocery store. (which is now half way through the wholesale scale)

Then my mum got pregnant with the 2nd and last child a.k.a me. I had a wonderful childhood. My parents never enrolled me to daycare because they were home all the time. Speak about advantages heh! So, I spent most of my childhood with my mum, dad, elder sister or my cousins. I never really had to be explained why my mum and dad were always around me. It’s just the question that never actually struck me until my 2nd grade when we were told to draw our parents on official attire and I drew my dad on his joggers and sports shoes but that is what he wears literally every day to his work till this date . Or the time when I saw my friend’s parents both staying at house during only on specific “Saturdays!” I actually thought something was wrong later it stroked me we were “different” indeed.

The concept of 9-5 working hour and holiday a week was very hard to grasp initially. The daily choir in my house was really hard to explain as if an invisible routine of things floated around the air. I mean the communication was so less but each one of the adults knew exactly what to do just like they were doing some telepathy shit. But they always work their ass off for 16 hours.

So, here are the couple of stuffs you will likely to see at our work place under 16 hours:

• The day goes on with numerous customers with unusual requests (trust me they never fail to surprise in the worst way),
• Price fuss-ers, (tuna fish smelling housewives, find another store please!)
• Over spending cunts (the one who lets you keep the change with pitiful eyes) I am as ungrateful as an old twit. you prolly don’t know that but hey baboon, thanks for the tip, will have a burger for lunch today.
• Weird salespersons with weirdest products, (sleek talking ass snitch bitches)
• Regular P&G suppliers waiting for their pay check (some of them are mutha-fucking H-O-T, strictly only some),
• Redeeming customers ( some money on my palms, come on now flicka dat wrist ey ey ey),
• Tobacco chewing employees. (boyy, get a grip )
And at night my mum and dad would go through the paper works while I was tucked warmly on the bed with my mum’s fur coat and VAT’s a real deal ya’ll one wrong move and pay extra extra to government.

So, everyday is a battle field and I am not going to lie to you but things can get a lot more ugly.

Most people are usually terrified by the idea of the family business because they should be it kinda makes your family dysfunctional in the most functional way. You gotta be professional af! It is not that you just stayed in just because you had an argument or you had a common cold. YOU GOTTA WORK UNLESS SOMEONE DIES OR YOU ARE RUSHED TO THE ER. *sorry was a little overwhelmed*

Can we R.I.P the vacation please?  Vacation is a myth. . Guess what! our family went to vacation for entire 3 weeks to Eastern Nepal at the gap of 7 years and trust me! there was a good chance the vacation was not gonna happen, Thanks to the earthquake one of the contributing factors to close down business for a while. There is a whole another story what my crazy dysfunctional family did in the damn long ass drive.

Growing up in this environment I really loathed our lifestyle. After all we were actually a lot more different than others. My classmates were living in a whole alternate universe while I used to spend my time helping my mum and dad covered in sweat smelling like an onion (okay fine! Don’t look me with judgmental eyes a little exaggeration isn’t going to hurt anyone)!

Early Teen years were the hardest as I wasn’t coping along with this lifestyle. I would always fail to show up in my dates punctually, whenever I was invited into parties “Maybe I will stop by” was my go to word because I can’t be committed to that bish while I am already invested along side my parents.

It’s like having a girlfriend and keeping a side meat at the same time and boo that just ain’t me.

The high school boys aren’t always sweety pie either. They are fucking boars who just try to pick on the same really hurtful things. You know bragging about how they visited exotic lands and givin’ me a side look. *CLEARLY SCREAMING* “BET YOU HAVEN’T STEPPED YOUR FOOT OUTTA YOUR MOTHER’S WOMB NERDY” those middle high school days were the lowest and most loneliest. Friends do lag behind at relating when they only know the half story.

People say, “Staying with parents murders the idea of living a free life.” But for me family always do come first and I am not giving this some emotional I love my family chessy shit.

It is just that my ugly dysfunctional family composed with lazy, villains, drunkards and down to earth crazies just somehow perfectly define partnership, commitment, loyalty and honesty. That is the reason why this family strong despite of the ugliest internal conflicts and the bad mouthing which get trashier than ever! #noshameinthegame

We find ourselves a reason to stand by each other not only because we want to but we have to. This business is everything to us. it’s like the guy who burned all his ships to reach the new world. Everything is invested it has to work. No buts and no ifs.

I have been living a double life where I am teenaging and adulting for quite a while now. So, if this is the big conversation with me where I am honest about my lifestyle then I need to talk about the fact that my life dissatisfies me so much. After my farewell party my friends went to clubs for “after after parties” prolly till midnight but I returned home asap because we were running out of employees and trust me the work place was disaster. While my friends were probably getting drunk and laid I was there stalking their instagram once in a while! Incidents like these has become so many times that it almost feels like dejavuu now.

Growing around family business is different and anything but comfortable-imma-watch-netflix-now life but it always taught me the hard work that is put in to earn a penny. It is still teaching me other many invaluable lessons like “Conserve cash, stay in business”.

So, this is it! Life gets real ugly sometimes but all you gotta do is suck it up.

We are the humdrum home with the bricks made out of passion.

 “I know which place I’m from,
I know my home
When I’m in doubt and struggling
That’s where I go”

 

I know you won’t remember in the morning, when I speak my mind.

I know you won’t remember in the morning, when I speak my mind.

An exception, liability, outcast, out of league and much more but not someone whom you ask to stay.

  After our obvious deeds. I feel our young and blue bodies interwined as we lay. I can inhale you from you hair, felt so damn homely. 

As the night gets youthful, I talk about my friends, family, my aspirations and beliefs as we spoon. I can feel your breath in my arm, head rested on my chest. I feel such a man.
I tell you eveything i am and i am not. You say, “never realized you actually do talk alot” we both laugh at that.

I tell her all my truth. My sinful truth, my ugly truth.      

The more I dive between the future and the past. I see her fading away as I watch her bored hefty eyelids shutting down in a slow pace with her pupils dancing beneath them, dreaming other things but us.

I understand,  hence I stare at her and quit my blather about our non-existent relationship. Afterall, I was an exception.   A needy exception indeed.

I suddenly feel the heavy pit in my stomach. My intution tells me to get out of there.    Correction: sneak out. I recollect my mess of a wardobe from the floor.

Everything moved fast as she didnt smell home anymore. It was bizzare for me to stay out of my bed this late.
Without even glancing a last look back i sneak out. Get a cab. Cry while I returned back home. It felt vunerable to open up, didnt fancy the idea of being myself and not being cared enough. 

I get home, mum chokes me with her love and concern. I dont make eye contact. Brush my teeth and disappear in my comfortable sheets and fluffy pillow. Nothing feels more homely than this. 

A place where I musnt need to keep my hopes low. A place where expectation is dead while the hope is a ghost.  No one toys with the hopeless.  

Once a liability, always a liability.

Half of my wardrobe is on your bedroom.

Half of my wardrobe is on your bedroom.

Sparks flew from across the room, jet lights of green, red and blue when our eyes got locked in the midst of people giggling, fooling around, dancing, whispering and moving. 
I felt the mutuality through glances. Call it luck or something else; it seemed as if my dumb, horrible interpreter brain was baptized with some right ass intuitions which might as well be super wrong but I wasn’t able to deny its worthiness.

So, I plucked some of the courage I never knew I had and moved across the room wrestling through pushes and blocking from party animal hypocrites and their sweats, just to follow her and find her.

“Can I buy you a drink?” I sneak in a scream-whisper in her ears.

 Technically it was screaming but the loud EDM made it sound like something that it wasn’t, a whisper.

She smiled and nodded at me.

Does that mean she is interested? Aside from the physical battle I just experienced, I create a battle of my own at the back of my mind, wrestling my thoughts and calculating the permutation and combination of her smile, nod and half hoping she orders something cheap which can be covered from the budget I have left in my pockets. Yes pockets!
Well, what do you expect from a guy who doesn’t even own a wallet?

Luckily, I was saved from the eternal misery of embarrassment as she ordered some cheap beers. Apparently, whiskeys aren’t her thing. BINGO

Friends always tell me be yourself in a date but I have a tendency to run towards the opposite direction. A few drinks in and I almost forget who I am. I mean not in a literal sense I still know who I am but I don’t know who I am. You get me right?

Felt like I was channeling into someone I am not; a hypocrite. I shake my head ask myself, “What the fuck is happening?” but the stuffs running through my veins makes me too busy to answer. Instead I start babbling doing quite opposite of what I am not supposed to do.

I tell her all my lies, my best lies, my awesome lies. Something similar to “once I ate my teapot, tablecloth and tongue all at the same time.”

After our bits of conversation and lots of laughing, it hits me that she inclines handsome men but for me she was making an exception. 

So, I let loose, let my intuition do the talking and ignore everything around me. (If you are pondering on what let loose means. For me it means ignoring the deadline of arriving home at 8 and the fact that I couldn’t be in peace if I don’t reach my “own bed” till 10:30)
Focus on her an involuntary sound commands.
Main goal: impress her.
Basically, get approval from someone whom I’ve known for 30 minutes through the jokes that aren’t even mine.

I clearly get under the influence of being king and queen of the weekend i.e. live a lie.

We talk about an hour. She invites me to stay over her place. How the hell could I refuse my new found self and VAT-TAX-HOMEWORK-RE-CHECK session? 

My intuition told me that it was my turn to nod and smile. My heart skips it’s beat.

“I need your love and I’m dying of the rush cause my heart ain’t got enough”

Yours, Truly disastrous.

Yours, Truly disastrous.

Sorry, there is nothing pure about the things we do.

You fight so hard, so much,

Not to be seen, loved or heard.

 

Then, someone looks at you differently,

And it’s fine.

To give it in, tear it down, stripping it all.

 

But,

 

Vulnerability makes you loose it like shit.

 

They say, “Give it to the fire.”

Your pride, guilt, lust, teeth and yourself………….

 

She spits fire as she gets close

My skin screams, ignites;

I feel the screech of fear and pleasure

 

I run away from fear.

I run back for pleasure.

Pushing up my toes,

Wanting more.

 

We work it out like sun and moon,

I only glow when I am reflecting off of you.

Or, at least we believed so.

 

Guess what! You should know about us more.

No, we shouldn’t.

Or maybe we should.

 

There are perfect graceless nights when you stay.

We suffer from amnesia,

Forget about the distance monster.

 

In the morning,

You go away because you need to.

And I understand because I have to.

 

There is nothing pure about any of this.

 

 

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Sorry, I was never born to drown.

 

We sit down to eat,

We have nothing to say

 

The breakfast gets as cold as our feelings.

 

Sorry, I was too busy seeing happy people on other table.

Sorry, I was too busy swallowing the big lump in my throat.

 

With that follows scream,

Screams that form words, “psychopath, sociopath and foul”

 

Then, you and I leave.

We return back,

Blame it to the long distance monster.

 

But What about the monsters we tuck under our beds?

Our tongues get tied up as we hide each other’s demons.

 

There was nothing pure about us.

We were together for a summer,

After that it was just 9 month’s long influence.

 

I wish it wasn’t influence

I wish it was love.

 

So, you came back

You are here now

I ask, “For how long?”

“Summer break!” she says

 

You are here now

And the perfect graceless nights are merely obligations.

 

We are nothing more than jewelries.

Easily worn and taken off.

 

Told us we were like sun and moon.

Every night I live and you die.

And it gets eclipsed when we meet.

 

You shouldn’t have trusted me.

You know how moon works,

It changes everyday.

so do I.

 

I know I tore you open with my ignorance

We both know we tried to feel anything at all.

We failed to recreate graceless nights similar to our remembrance.

 

I know it is gonna hurt.

So, I will run away first.

 

Soon enough,

Someone will love us.

But that someone isn’t us.

 

She wishes to never meet me, she knows.

I am falling back to the dark hole I came from

And I never felt this safe to curl up while expectation snows.

 

So, fuck you!

 

Dark hole was never a place.

Until I created it.

People call it being alone.

I call it “not drowning into someone else’s shit”

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We are hollow like the bottles that we drank.

We are hollow like the bottles that we drank.

I look up at my phone like every morning.

Instagram filled with fabrication of documented lies or I like to believe it that way. I just linger around the idea of using the app day planner but I know what will happen through the day.

I have been living almost the same day everyday since past few years. Which my mum gladly likes to refer as “running out of time” phone blows up with texts from my folks for meeting up as usual.

I find my shoes, get my jacket and try to get some money from mum and make my way out. My mum stops me to blame me for everything under the sun but lends me what I need for a typical summer day of my life.

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Summer days are longer and well summery.
Must be the reason why we feel so warm, youthful, lethargic and timeless even though we are younger as a minute.

We don’t need any policies, no out dated stereotypical rules. We know we are the coolest.

Getting tipsy, running around on summer nights, playing stupid dare games.
We roam around the roads where the houses don’t change; we watch each other tirelessly trying to grow up and we effortlessly fail, we mock at that because it’s humorous.

It must be humorous otherwise the alternative would be something else related with guilt of failure.

Eyes get rolled when people try to shove mannerisms down our throat. They think we dumb? We don’t know that? Everyone does. We just choose to be diva queen in tears who just don’t care.

Eyes study the floor when they boast about their studies of business and human bodies. Makes us wonder why people talk so much!

Eyes won’t stop bashing skulls but still they don’t quit their blathers.
They and we talk like there is actually something to say but the truth is we are just killing time.
Cause we are never done throwing useless words at each other. Words summed up to sentences that never really hits but ends up with burned throats.

I am glad that we stayed to feel timeless, hopeless and useless rebels. We want this summer to end and never end at the same time.

I return with the same old feet and shoes, with jacket swinging in my hand. I try to slip as quietly as possible but the booze won’t let me.

Mum’s voice rings, “who’s over there?” A minute or so flies she is standing right in front of me hands crossed against her chest with a frown blended with anger. I know that look on her face; I see it everyday on every summer night. I don’t like being choked by my mother’s love. So I try and ignore.

She just shakes her head in disbelief and walks away murmuring something about responsibilities, growing up and being tired.

I produce a short giggle moreover a yelp.
I am tired of myself too.
I am Tired of people, Tired of life, and Tired of expectations.

So, I decide to disappear because I have to breathe for another summer day of my life. A year long summer to survive. I try to disappear into my dark room staring the darker ceiling.

We are hollow. But we believe we are brave.

(listen to lorde’s 400 lux)

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You are like my wine stained shirt that I can not, should not wear.

You are like my wine stained shirt that I can not, should not wear.

I know better at this point.I must, because I  cannot go through all this. Not again. Not with you.

You are the high tides of clear blue water which never stays constant nor that it should. Otherwise that would be unnatural.

Yet somewhere inside me I have this slightest bit of tendency towards incase. Incase you notice the change, incase you want to break the natural, because I don’t have no guts to do it.

Lucky ones are only held more than just a friend.

I just happen to fall under the unlucky.

An unlucky who wishes you would just consider the million reasons I give you everyday to just acknowledge the incase, the alternative of being a still blue water; staying in, holding on, canoodling with the unlucky because months and months of back and forth just cuts more deep.

You see that is a rare case i.e. unlucky turning into the lucky ones.

A rare case that tears up my expectations, manipulates my decisions, makes me fall on my knees. A rare case that makes me an unlucky fool pondering over a smile, a touch hoping it meant more than it is supposed to. Most of all it is frustrating to see myself standing back where I always stood before.

It is like I have lost the ability of being mobile, lost the ability of being heard as my lungs are filled with water and my screams are muffled under water.

I know you are happy now with your lucky man and last thing you would want is me barging into the places where I am not expected.

So, I decide to stay out because I know you will refuse to stay in.

Your attention is all I want but not like this. I want us to cross that delicate line of friend zone but isn’t possible when you patch up suddenly with someone with whom you have a relationship younger as a minute.

Then it isn’t even your fault. How can you answer something I never asked?

Eventually, I will have to let it all go. But you are like my favorite wine stained shirt which can neither be seen going to waste nor can be worn. 

This was my twisted love on the straight pathway built out of friendzone.

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