A long preparation for something that always happens: i.e., death.
A long preparation for something that always happens: i.e., death.
Just Write
A Mystical World
love each other like you are the lyric to their music
The flowers of the fiction plant rooted in my brain, the voice of the inexpressible feelings hidden in my heart and the eruption of the theories burning in my mind– I made a ball out of the three, threw it high into the sky and it landed right at my blog.
You're Worth It.
Sporadic randomness from a disheveled mind.
Utopian World
Tumse Na Ho Payega
Welcome back! —CC
Thanks a lot. It’s nice to cross words again.
You bet. I look forward to new b-jams.
My next door neighbor died relatively young about three years ago. When she told me she had cancer, she was quick to add, “Don’t tell me you’re sorry, tell me jokes instead.”
Ooops! I meant to add. She seemed to me prepared.
That’s sad and sweet. And it’s tough to remember, but: death is really another part of life.