Playing with fire.
- Posted by Willow
- Thursday, March 5, 2009
"Life"
- Posted by Willow
- Sunday, February 8, 2009
So yeah, "life." Well, what about it? Exactly! What about it??? Answers I have NONE. Like zilch. I have no clue what its about but neither do millions of people. That does not solve anything though, does it? Knowing that I am not alone? Well, maybe the fact that most don't know, clearly indicates that its going to be no easy quest. Why did questions as such never bother me when I was younger? Why? I really don't know..Oh wait, when I was younger, all I had to worry about was wiping my snot or passing a grade... A hah! The discussion about the kinds of jobs available in the market triggered the question. So yeah, why do I even need in a job in the first place? Simple answer; for those heads of the presidents of United States on green paper with numbers such as 100,50,20 and 1. Its spelled M.O.N.E.Y. So then my question was, what do I do with the money? "It will make you happy," I was told. Bah..humbug.. Like hell it will! Sure I am no whiz kid, but I do know for certain that money≠happiness. Don't believe me? Studies show, that more than 50% of the "wealthy" population in the world are "immune" to happiness and lead a lackluster life. On the contrary, hard up comedians laugh atleast 71 times a day. I just made that up. Okay, so money does make life comfortable to a certain level and comfort gives us the delusion of being happy. In that happy and comfortable state, you'll ask someone out, and in time, ask him/her to marry you. You'll consequently have kids or adopt one and strive hard at work to pour out 'em green bucks when your kids get admitted to colleges.
Gas chorung?
- Posted by Willow
- Thursday, February 5, 2009
Two guys, who were sitting a table away from mine were talking in whispers... and in a language they assumed I wont understand..
To the girl who never saw the stars.
- Posted by Willow
- Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Someday, I will write the story about the solitary vacation. About the elongated deck, the dangling feet, and the cool autumn breeze. Some place far, some place quiet. If not for anything, but for her younger self. For her dreams and for her waning soul. For the love thats losing its luster and for the heart that has turned numb with indifference. For all things she wants to run away from and for all things she wishes to rush towards. For the old man who came up to her in a park and wrote his name in Hebrew in her notebook. For the gun shots she heard and the lightening that almost struck her. For her, the girl who never saw the stars.

