Spring lodge

Chronicles of Beautiful soul All of sudden fate displayed another route. The mix feeling aroused in me with the new rays of sunlight. The moment to cherish the happiness of mine love and to kill mine own glee. Those beautiful bygone days with unreasonable memories are now taking my breath away every second. This was certain to come on our way. Yet the day approached even before I was ready to handle the situation. Just few hours ago we were the parallel soul to accompany under any circumstances. But now we could hardly exchange the words of 'What's up? Been missed. Love you.' I knew never as I have to carry this backpack of misery throughout the journey of my life. I seldom land up questioning myself as, am I the only one to be content of the unexpected situation that fall on my journey? Am I the only one to sacrifice my happiness? Why can't I easily let go someone who doesn't feel towards me? Why people blame only me when I haven't done anything then

If Tomorrow Starts Without Me… If tomorrow starts without me, and I’m not here to see, If the sun should rise you find your eyes all filled with tears for me; I wish so much you wouldn’t cry the way you did today, While thinking of the many things we didn’t get to say. I know how much you love me, as much as I love you And each time that you think of me, I know you’ll miss me too. But when tomorrow starts without me please try to understand, That an angel came and called my name and took me by the hand. He said my place was ready, in heaven far above And that I’d have to leave behind all those I dearly love. But as I turned and walked away a tear fell from my eye. For all my life I’d always thought, I didn’t want to die. I had so much to live for, so much left yet to do. It seemed almost impossible that I was leaving you. I thought of all the yesterdays the good ones and the bad. I thought of all the love we shared, and all the fun we had. If I could relive yesterday, just even for a

The owner could be quite racist – sometimes I’d hear him talk about customers and be pretty disgusted. He wasn’t particularly friendly to me, but I just got on with the job." “I’m proud of my Turkish heritage, and I’ve really only experienced racism a couple of times in my life. I had this one terrible job in a restaurant. I liked the hours, because I was still studying, but it wasn’t a great place to work. The owner could be quite racist – sometimes I’d hear him talk about customers and be pretty disgusted. He wasn’t particularly friendly to me, but I just got on with the job. One day, he called me into a meeting and accused me of stealing. I denied it and asked what evidence he had. I’m a hard worker and I just wouldn’t do something like that. He told me my shifts would be suspended while he ‘investigated’ further. It wasn’t clear how he intended to do this, but it meant I lost a week’s worth of shifts. I spoke to a couple of the other staff, all Aussies, and none of them had

I've been reading books of old The legends and the myths Achilles and his gold Hercules and his gifts Spiderman's control And Batman with his fists And clearly I don't see myself upon that list But she said, "Where'd you wanna go? How much you wanna risk? I'm not looking for somebody With some superhuman gifts Some superhero Some fairytale bliss Just something I can turn to Somebody I can kiss I want something just like this" Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo Oh, I want something just like this Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo Oh, I want something just like this I want something just like this I've been reading books of old The legends and the myths The testaments they told The moon and its eclipse And Superman unrolls A suit before he lifts But I'm not the kind of person that it fits She said, "Where'd you wanna go? How much you wanna risk? I'm not lookin

He drowsed and was aware of silence heaped Round him, unshaken as the steadfast walls; Aqueous like floating rays of amber light, Soaring and quivering in the wings of sleep. Silence and safety; and his mortal shore Lipped by the inward, moonless waves of death. Someone was holding water to his mouth. He swallowed, unresisting; moaned and dropped Through crimson gloom to darkness; and forgot The opiate throb and ache that was his wound. Water—calm, sliding green above the weir; Water—a sky-lit alley for his boat, Bird-voiced, and bordered with reflected flowers And shaken hues of summer: drifting down, He dipped contented oars, and sighed, and slept. Night, with a gust of wind, was in the ward, Blowing the curtain to a gummering curve. Night. He was blind; he could not see the stars Glinting among the wraiths of wandering cloud; Queer blots of colour, purple, scarlet, green, Flickered and faded in his drowning eyes. Rain—he could hear it rustling through the dark; Fragrance a

Life Story of The Ugliest Girl in The World” — I wrote a mini series on the biggest internet forum in my country later that day. The series consist of me ranting and claiming myself to be the ugliest girl in history, and that’s why even my own parents left me in the end. The series invited many people to messaged me, asking to see my pictures. They want to see how ‘the ugliest girl that keeps on being rejected’ looks like. And it kicks me down even more. My confidence shrink to almost nothing. I walked with my head down ever since that day. Avoiding eye contacts to pretty much everyone. — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — Being left by people I love the most in my early life creates a sense of insecurity that cuts deeply into my heart. “If the people closest to me could just easily leave me like that, there must be something wrong with me, isn’t it? It must be because I’m unlovable. Unworthy of love. Is it because I’m ugly? Ah.. It makes sense now.

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, With conquering limbs astride from land to land; Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame. “Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

🤝The right person will know how to hold your love. The right person will choose you just as deeply as you choose them. You will not have to quiet the way you care, you will never feel like you are too much. You will not have to beg for the love you deserve. One day, you will be met where you are. One day, you will be someone's favourite thing, and you will not be confused - you will not feel like you are fighting for someone who isn't fighting for you. One day, you will understand that it never mattered how tightly you held on to the wrong people, how intensely you tried, because the right people were always going to find you. The right people were always going to stay.🤝 Word's from my all time favourite