She was half hurricane – destorying everything that came in her path.
She was half human – who was doing her utmost best to survive.
But in reality she was a lost soul – trying desperately to survive even if it means in memories only.
Who should be blamed when a leaf falls from the tree; is it the wind that blew it away? Or the tree that let it go? Or the leaf itself who grew tired of holding on? Life unfolds so many misunderstanding each day. It is up to us to solve it, leave it or live with it.
You are allowed to move on with your life while keeping the memories of the past.
You are allowed to keep the memories of the past while letting go of the people in them.
You are allowed to let go of those people while still cherishing the moments you spent with them.
My body, my mind, my choice
To wear the clothes I like; even if my spirit roams naked
My choice; to be a size 0 or a size 15
They don’t have a size for my spirit, and never will
To use cotton and silk to trap my soul is to believe that you can halt the expansion of the universe
Or capture sunlight in the palm of your hand
Your mind is caged, let it free
My body is not, let it be
To marry, or not to marry
To have sex before marriage, to have sex out of marriage, or to not have sex
To love temporarily, or to lust forever
To love a man, or a woman, or both
Remember; you are my choice, I’m not your privilege
The bindi on my forehead, the ring on my finger, adding your surname to mine, they’re all ornaments and can be replaced
My love for you cannot, so treasure that
My choice; to come home when I want
Don’t be upset if I come home at 4am
Don’t be fooled if I come home at 6pm,
My choice; to have your baby or not
To pick you from 7 billion choices or not
So don’t get cocky
My pleasure might be your pain
My songs, your noise
My order, your anarchy
Your sins, my virtues
My choices are like my fingerprints
They make me unique
I am the tree of the forest
I am the snowflake not the snowfall
You are the snowflake
Get out of the shit storm
I choose to empathise
Or to be indifferent
I choose to be different
I am the universe
Infinite in every direction
This is my choice
– Homi Adajania
There was once a time when I longed to be special.
I believed that I had a special faith in store for me
and my life would be different than that of others.
I told myself I wouldn’t end up becoming average,
no matter what.
To be average means to be comfortable.
To be average means to not catch anyone’s eyes.
To be average means to be boring.
To tell me that I was a average was a direct insult.
I am even less than average right now.
– Age of Youth