Maybe, in the end, that’s all we intend to do. Leave marks of our existence in the craziest ways imaginable. Who cares if these marks are faded scars? Or if these marks are unwritten messages that should have been sent ages back, who cares? Frankly, neither you nor me. I am stuck in this rat race. To acknowledge the consequences of my marks is one lesson, I bunked in the school of life. I was busy making paper boats, playing FLAMES and writing my crush’s name at the back of my doodle-filled notebook. I thought life is too short to care about these infamous consequences. I wasn’t the only truant, though, we were partners. Should we care about the after effects of our marks? Probably not. Mortals leave marks, unintentionally everywhere.Surprisingly, in the end, we only have the marks that people give us. Take it as battle scars or feathers on your oh-so-sophisticated hat. Let’s fill each other with marks of such magnitude that even the ocean feels the need to envy our passion. Let’s make love to the Sun and kiss the moon at the same time. Let’s dance in the forest fire and walk on ice. Let’s make it ache with burning desire. Chaos is my favorite medium to create marks. I promise to stop marking you as soon as I find someone unmarked. I have been dishonest. I might have purposefully played the victim. Oops, my bad, sorry. Nevertheless, I crave marks. So touch my soul, make it weep in your absence, make it smile at the slightest mention of your name and make my eyes unknowingly look for you in this crowded room. Cause baby, I crave marks and so do you.
I am currently in my school bus on the way to school. And I am listening to Team by Lorde. Yeah, this is a pointless information you don’t have to know. Xd
My last post is here.
And until next time……