Noir…

She was on her way home. Her overcoat was making a huge shadow on the pavement under the blaring street lights. High heels are making that typical rattle as she walked purposefully with her hands deep in her pockets. It was cold; her breath was fogged, and her eyes were obscured by the hood of her coat. She is moving down the maze of alleys, a left, a right, another right and then down the street all the way to JOE’S CORNER. The delicious smell of his hamburgers hit her nostrils even before she has turned the corner and she felt ravenous. Joe was at the stove, turning patties over a skillet, tossing them in the air and catching them back in the skillet. She made her way into the shop and straight to the kitchen. Joe beamed to see her and nodded towards the booths in the diner. She smiled back at him and said “not today Joe, I am in a hurry”, and she moved the crisp note over the counter to him. He slid a juicy hamburger towards her; she was back on the road the very next moment with the burger in her hand. It was huge; she knew Joe makes her with extra love, adding more cheese, more fries and more of everything just for her. She was halfway through her burger, licking her fingers now and then when she heard another pair of footsteps behind her.
Not bothering with them she kept walking to her small apartment above the cottage that was used as a artists studio, he has let her rent the small room with kitchenette above it for the half the price, just for the sake that she will clean his studio once a week. She had agreed happily, and it was the place she called home now. She wiped her hands and mouth with the tissue paper wrapped around the burger when she was done eating and chucked it in the next bin she saw, near the last corner before her home. Something made her turn around and scan the deserted alley. There was no one there; the footsteps were gone. Back on the way she turned to the apartment street and rummaged inside her bag for the keys. She found them at the bottom and climbed the narrow spiral staircase that led to her apartment. She inserted the key in the lock when she felt a huge hand cover her mouth and another on her neck, holding a knife. She felt choked and struggled, but his grip on her was a vice like. She stomped her heel into his toes and added her weight to it. He let her go with a scream and lost his balance, to get back stable he grabbed her coat and dragged her down the staircase as he fell. She yelled and cried each time her head banged on each step till they finally lay in a heap at the bottom of the last step. She couldn’t see, the pain had blinded her. Sitting up immediately she felt the Earth under her slip, he was upon her like a snake, covering her body with his.
Not finding any way to get him off her as he tried to throttle her with both hands she yanked his jacket hard. All sight was losing her as she was getting short on oxygen with each passing second and suddenly she felt something under her hand, in his jacket pocket. It was a small knife, she extracted it from his pocket, he was busy killing her, and without notice, she drove the knife hard into him. His face was directly over her when she saw his eyes close in pain and mouth open in agony. It was a while before he let go of her throat, she scooted out from under him and sat up coughing. She couldn’t breathe, taking huge filling breaths she sat on the pavement, sweating and shocked. Turning on the spot, she saw him lying on his stomach, upper body on the last step and lower half on the sidewalk. Hot tears flowed from her eyes, the burger she just ate was back up in her throat, and she will throw up. She managed to stand up, still coughing and breathing heavily and ran to the dumpster where she just chucked the tissue and puked in it. She couldn’t stand straight till every last ounce of that burger was out of her system. Falling back on the sidewalk she crawled on all fours to the spot where he lay, immobile. Her frail body rocked hard with sobs; she was trying to say something, her voice seemed to come from far away, “OH MY GOD! I KILLED HIM. I KILLED JOE”.

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The Room Of Mirrors…

She sat on the floor, broken down, shaking, shattered. She was sitting in between a kaleidoscope of broken glass; its fragmented powdery shards dusted the black landing around her. The Room of Mirrors was gone. There were no mirrors that would multiply her from one to many.
She was alone, sitting there, breathing heavy. Her breathing was ragged, and she pulled out her hair in agony that was not physical but mental. Her scream shook her; she screamed long and loud, her head turned upwards. Her shrieks reverberated around her making some Kinetic energy that was making a circle of sound waves around her. Encircling her, Engulfing her. The hot tears rolled down her face, they burned her eyes, but they were no more tears, it was blood that has broken the last glass, her eyes.
This room was her Haven and her Sanctuary. She could not hide more from the reality, her reality. She had made these mirrored walls to increase her strength manifolds. She has pushed back her monsters behind those walls. Now they were lurking out again. Their glowing red eyes are looking at her from every corner. Her cries were keeping them at bay. The broken glass dust was beginning to lift off the ground.
Soon enough her scream turned to a never-ending boom that was making the ground under her shake. The mirror dust had made a debris cyclone around her, making her the Storm Cell in the centre of it. She spread her arms and raised them above her head, and the wind rose up, lifting her up with it. She was Levitating, floating unsupported in the air. Her face turned upwards, and a bright blinding light was coming from her eyes, it was robust and white enough to make all the monsters close their eyes.
She convulsed once and let our a scream that was sufficient to make anyone’s ears bleed and go deaf. All those monsters retreated into the darkness, and she rose up higher and higher in the air, her outstretched arms seemed to control that whirlwind that was making the thin flimsy dress around her flutter and made her look like a white butterfly. Her hair was flowing behind her, making a halo of orange light behind her.
She was obscured from view by the glass dust around her grew so thick that it became impossible to see her. Her last scream was never-ending, and all the light was swallowing her up. And suddenly she went silent; the light was gone, the cry was gone, the wind and the storm had ceased. The glass was turned to fine sand as it lost inertia and fell back on the ground making a wispy sound. Everything went silent and still. Like Time had stopped. The monsters came out from the shadows to hunt her down and feast on her from all sides.
But in the middle of the space, where they expected to find the girl whose soul they had come to claim had gone. She was not there, only her dress remained, lay in a heap in the middle of the debris. She had done it. She had managed to escape the room in which was trapped for years. She had broken those walls, smashed those mirrors, escaped those monsters and left that darkness. Now it was light that she saw, and her soul, white, whole, content. She was Successful. She was victorious. She was liberated. Finally !

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In Her Bedroom….

Eve was sitting on her bed, hyperventilating. It was her bedroom, her sanctuary. She could be alone here, have some Privacy. She raised her head slowly and looked around; they were everywhere. He was sitting on her couch and smoking a cigarette; his eyes were on her. The little boy with brown eyes and wearing the Blue jumpsuit was playing with a Toy Train on the carpet. Mrs Benedict was there too, going through her cupboard, sifting through her dresses, admiring her jewels. She turned and gave Eve an admiring look; her pearls were hanging between Mrs Benedict’s fingers, hanging loosely on them.
The little boy came up to her, and took her hand in his, tugging her along to come and play with his Toy Train. She was near tears, but his lovely face and the eager look in his eyes was enough to compel her. She got up from her bed and went to sit on the carpet. Her eyes were on Frank; he was puffing smoke, the nicotine-infused air was hitting her nostrils, it made her cough. He knew she was allergic to smoke. He has known her for quite some time.
6d1852a2a83a8c9e1dc1e1703aeef880Mrs Benedict came and sat down on the couch, next to Frank, her hand on his thigh. He looked at her and smiled; she smiled back, they both looked at her in unison and laughed to see her play with little Matthew. Matthew was squealing in delight; he was clapping his little hands, Frank and Mrs Benedict clapped along with him. She was crying; they can’t be here, they had no place here, they should go. She had told them all several times to leave her alone.
“Hey Eve, come on, now stop being so angry. Can’t you see we are all so happy to be together.”, Frank said and extended his hand to her, beckoning her to him. She licked her lips and swallowed hard before placing her hand in his palm.
“That’s our Eve, the smiling, charming girl. Don’t listen to what those doctors say, darling. You are perfectly fine. And so are we all.” Mrs Benedict beamed at her with these words. She wanted to believe her; she wanted to believe them all. She wanted to be in arms, to play with Matthew, to have tea with Mrs Benedict just like they used to and chat about anything and everything.
Just then she heard a knock on the door.
“Madame. It’s your tea”, called out Lousie from outside the door. Lucy, her maid.
“Yes Lucy comes in dear”, she called.
Lucy pushed open the door to the side of her body as both her hands were occupied with the tea tray. She placed the tray on the centre table that lay in front of the couch. Eve saw it had just one cup.
“Lucy, how many have I told you, bring another cup of tea for Mrs, Benedict, coffee for Frank and Chocolate Milk for Matthew”, she buffed the maid with a hint of anger. Lucy looked at her with sad, wide eyes.
“Oh Madame, you are seeing them all again”, the maid said with a miserable look on her face and started to sob.
3f78f23a516e6ce0d03640a8a99be442“Are you insane? Lucy, tell me are you crazy? Can’t you see Matthew here, playing with his train? Can’t you see Frank, looking at me with love in his eyes? And there is Mrs Benedict, waiting eagerly for her Evening Tea. Have you gone blind girl ?”, Eve scolded the maid angrily. She had had enough of this. She would not take all this more and fire Lucy right now.
“But, but Madame, they all died years ago, in a car accident. Please try to be sane Madame; I don’t want you to live in that madhouse again.” Lucy said between fat tears, but Eve was no longer listening. She had gone white and pale; her eyes were unfocused. She was looking into oblivion.
Eve could hear the maid’s voice coming from far off, “The accident”, she could see Matthew smiling at her, Mrs Benedict looking concerned and Frank holding her when she lost all sense and saw black. It was swallowing her up; she could feel herself falling fast, into a bottomless crevice.

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Her Wings….

 

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They were both caterpillars, they crawled their way out and kept on changing skins, making it more adaptable to surroundings, Evolving. They both went inside a Cocoon, they both needed to hide from the outside world, they both needed to change and to grow. They both emerged as with wings, ready to fly, all beautiful and Graceful, they both were willing to spread their wings and take a flight to the skies and see what it has to offer. They will both die if you catch them in a net and keep them in a jar. They will wither, they won’t last long in confinement. The story of a woman and a butterfly is not very different, the main difference is one is real delicate, and the other is real strong.

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Letters To Sakhi…On Her Birthday….

Today, a year has passed since my last birthday. Yes, you guessed it right, today on January 20th is my birthday. So today I want to tell something to my younger self from the year 2016, she needs a letter from me. Actually, I have two letters.
Dear Sakhi,
Life is an all time low. You are worried sick about mum’s health. You are missing papa badly. I know your pain, I went through it. I wouldn’t tell you that you stayed stationary while everyone else moved on. I won’t tell you that you worry too much. I won’t ask you to move on. I know how many times you already heard all this. I know you are much stronger and much improved since yourself from 2012, 20th January. I love you, it was a very tough journey you made. I have counted all your tears, and I know as you read this letter you won’t trust it’s from a future you. I sound too cheerful to believe. But this is the very purpose I am writing this letter. You need to know.
You need to know that life will get better as this year passes. You will have friends on next birthday, yes friends. Don’t look so disinterested, and don’t roll eyes, I know you are a real pessimist but you need to listen. By this time next year, you will have unconditional love, undying friendship, passion for writing, goal to achieve, resolution to fulfil, books to write, a blog to run, a name in writers community, a small space for yourself among legends and you will live happily. Don’t be so surprised my love, I am not like the astrologers papa consulted, who made so many promises but all in vain. Wipe those tears and let me hug you real tight. Let me kiss you endlessly.
The thing you need to know is that you will find everything you need. Not a penny less, not a penny more. That the magic you are waiting to happen, will happen, just you won’t see the magician with a wand in his hand. Papa will lead you to great things baby. He will guide you every step. Mum will be fine, she has nothing, no scary diseases. You will happy, she will be glad for you. And you will find a wizard who will weave all your dreams in a fabric and adorn you with it. You will find someone you have always wanted, to share ever pain with, to hear it all out, to give you a million smiles. He will be there to cherish you and value you. And there is some surprise there too. Just don’t look too hard, let your heart be your guide and never think twice. You will find people who will lead happiness to you. You don’t even need to try.
I know you are so weary and so tired of playing games, of making flowers from quilling, but just hang in there. I know you are thinking of birthdays that were celebrated with papa, but you and me, however we cry, Papa, can’t come in that same form. But know that he never left us either, he was with you, he is with me, he will be with us. Don’t let yourself go into that darkness, I know it’s beckoning you, I know it’s calling you. Just know that you do have a future. Stay. Be sane. Be safe. And I will always love you, you will have me, come what may. Happy Birthday to you !
With love,
Sakhi
😊
PS: Stop hating doctors. And yes, mum is doing great to put all the cash in bank, trust her. 😋
My second letter
A letter to my older self, from 20th of January 2018
Dear Sakhi,
Hello, how are you ? Hope you are doing great. I am looking forward to meet you already. You know I am writing this you on your last birthday. How is mum ? Have you got made Chinese once again ? That would be a hat-trick. I know you love Chinese. How is your bronchitis and allergies ? RG must be a banker by now ? You met him ? Or has he given up on you ? Sri must be doing MD, what hospital he got into ? It must have been thrilling when he did it. I know how much you missed him. He is still around, right ? C.P. Must be still the same helpful and jovial godfather to you. Tell me he is better too, I do wanna hear that. Too many questions, but I am so thrilled and eager. You know me, bipolar, too happy or too sad. But I have improved. Hope you are even better.
So finished your first book? I think you planned some 32 to 35 chapters. You are too lazy, I hope it’s not eating dust somewhere. And what happened to epic, tell me? To Arjan and to Nakshatra and to Vidyut and Kaya? Don’t tell me, which ones dead? I loved them all, my characters. How is Shubhi doing? And Abhi? Are they with you right now? Give my love to them all. And Hey! Tell me about the blog, how is it going? You must have done wonders by now. How many followers you have? And how many posts you made? Last time I knew your agenda was once per day. But you are crazy enough to make it two or three. You were always stubborn and determined. And still quilling sometimes? What became of dance? I bet you haven’t changed One Plus Three, mum will kill you.
How are Ram and Noorie, stop beating him yaar. Are you happy? Don’t let me know you are sad. I know you are being nostalgic. I know you well girl. You hate separation, goodbye, parting. I know you are missing papa. Heard his voice recording today. Hope no termites showed up again. Munmun must still be eating Paneer daily. Chachi, Akanksha, Guddu, all fine na ? Any news if you becoming an aunt yet ? Hahahaha, inside joke I know. Don’t be angry yaar. You know me na. You remember 2016, good year it was, tell me how was 2017 ? Write all the answers in a letter and send it to me. Chacha must be retired now ? And Mama, still here or gone back home ? Remember what great Gajar Halwa he brought.
I love you, I wish you to be happier than I am. A tight hug and lots of kisses from me. Don’t cry, if things aren’t so good, don’t cry, it will be better again. Remember, what papa used to say, “life comes in a full circle”. I give you all my good wishes and all my hope and all my blessings and all my love. I want you to have everything. I want you to be love and be loved. I want you to be healthy, hail and hearty. I want you to be celebrating this birthday with all your friends, more than I have. I want you to have a great party. Just know that I love you already, just know papa hasn’t left you, just know mum loves you no less.
With love
Sakhi
😊
PS: I was planning to invest some money in share market, will it be good?

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Come, Let’s Play,

I’m going to share a game with you. This game will reveal incredible things about whoever plays it; surprise, shock and delight complete strangers, and has kickstarted more friendships than I know how to count.
Play along, and you’ll see.
I want you to imagine a desert, stretching out as far as your eyes can see. In this desert is a cube.
Your first task is to describe the cube. What does it look like? How large is it? What is it made of? Where exactly is it?
There are no right answers here, only your answers. Take a moment before you continue – the detail is important.
As you look at the desert and your cube, you notice there is also a ladder. Your second task (there are just five) is to describe the ladder. What is it made of? How big is it? Where is it, about the cube?
Now imagine that in the scene there is a horse. (Yes, horse. I didn’t say this desert made sense). Your third task: describe the horse. Most importantly: where is the horse, and what is it doing? Where, if anywhere, is it going?
We’re nearly there now. In the scene before you are flowers. Your penultimate task: describe the flowers. How many are there? What do they look like? Where are they, about the horse, cube, ladder and sand?
Final question. In the desert, there is a storm. Describe the storm. What type of storm is it? Is it near, or far? What direction is it headed? Does it affect the horse, flowers, cube or ladder?
If you’ve been playing along, this is going to be fun. If you didn’t, I must warn you: the next part ruins your ability to play this game ever again. If you don’t want to ruin it forever, go back now. Trust me.
Ready? There’s no going back.
How to connect deeply with anyone (in 5 minutes)
The cube is yourself.
The size is ostensibly your ego: a large cube means you’re pretty sure of yourself, a small cube less so.
The vertical placement of the cube is how grounded you are. Resting on the sand? You’re probably pretty down to earth. Floating in the sky? Your head is in the clouds.
The cube’s material conveys how open you are: transparent cubes belong to transparent people, opaque cubes are more protective of their minds. Glowing? You’re likely a positive person, who aims to raise the spirits of others. Made of granite? You’re likely protective and resilient.
The trick here is that when asked to describe a blank, abstract entity – a cube – your imagination will tend to project its own identity onto it. This trick is as old as time, but it’s about to get more interesting.
The ladder represents your friends.
Are your friends leaning on the cube? Your friends depend on you and are close. Is the ladder frail, or robust? Tall or short? Does it lead inside the cube? Or is it cast to one side, lying unloved on the sand? By now you should be able to draw your own conclusions.
The horse represents your dream partner.
The type of horse reveals a lot about what you yearn for in a partner. Some people see a steady brown workhorse, others a shining Pegasus or unicorn. Make of these people what you will.
Is your horse nuzzling your cube affectionately, or taking a bite out of it? Is it far from your cube, or walking away? This can represent a current partner, or an aspirational one, but the results are often a mix of touching and hilarious.
The flowers represent children.
The number of flowers relates to how many you imagine having. Some people see just a single, withered daisy; others a resplendent garden covering the cube and desert beneath. (Guys: watch out for those).
The colour and vitality of the flowers can speak to their health and presumed prosperity. The placement – particularly about the cube – can reveal interesting relations; I met one woman whose horse was eating their flowers.
Finally, the storm represents a threat.
This speaks to the current state of the person, and how they perceive risk in their life. Some may see a distant storm, on the lip of the horizon, fading from sight. Others may view themselves in the midst of a thunderous apocalypse, hailstones the size of tennis balls pelting their fragile cube and horse. Chances are those people have some immediate trauma in their life.
Now is this all correct? Of course, it isn’t. You won’t be reading any peer-reviewed journals on the soothsaying properties of horses and ladders. This is a game, albeit one that has endured in various forms for thousands of years.
But if you play along – and I encourage you to try this on others – you will find it appears to have an uncanny sense of reliability to it. There might be many reasons: people seem to project themselves onto abstract objects (the cube), and their affections onto animals (the horse). Our nurturing of flowers bears some resemblance to that of children, a storm is a signal of environmental danger that taps into our sense of unease, and a ladder is something we find supporting.
Maybe it’s all just wishful psychobabble.
But I’ll tell you what. It’s an incredible tool for getting to know someone. In five minutes you’re able to discuss a stranger’s character, friends, partner, children, risks, dreams and aspirations. You will stand out as someone memorable, and you probably had a right laugh too.
Now, let me tell you my results. My cube was metallic, solid metal that, Matt Silver, to look at and had a shiny surface. It was huge, many times a man’s height, it was dense, and placed on the desert sand, on one of its six sides, over a sand-dune.
My ladder was almost twice to thrice my height. It was made of Bamboo and was strong. It was leaning against the cube’s left edge. It ended a few feet below the cube’s top.
My horse was black, with camel-like feet, so it can easily walk around may be. It had a fierce look and was tall and had a mane in the black and black tail. It was neighing, and standing to the left side of the cube, a few feet away from the ladder and the cube. It was facing me, and yes, it was not saddled but had reins.
For flowers, I saw Mimulus flowers, 5 to be exact. They were in Yellow and Purple and were growing in the small patch of grass at the base of the cube on its right edge. The cube was offering them shade from the scorching sun. They were a good distance away from the horse and the ladder but touching the cube.
As for the storm, it was a sandstorm, one that blackens the sky with sand particles flying around. It was coming from the horizon towards the cube. It was everywhere; my eyes could feel the grainy sand particles. The horse was just moving his head to ward off dust, but otherwise, it was unmoved by it, not at all bothered. The cube whatsoever was not affected, as it was too solid and dense, the ladder was making a pat-pat sound against the cube as the storm shook it, but I knew it wouldn’t fall, its two legs were deep in sand and firmly planted. The flowers were shaking a lot, but they were sheltered by the cube from the direction the storm came from so they were not in danger, Though I found that the stem of one of them is a bit broken by the impact of the storm.

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Lovely Solidarity Blogger Award

Hello Friends,
I have been awarded another prestigious award “Lovely Solidarity Blogger Award”, and this has been presented to me by your success inspirer. I want to take this chance to thank them for this honour. I am exalted. I never thought such day would come in my blogging career. I hope your blog goes from strength to strength.
Question:  To you, is Solidarity blogging worthwhile?
Answer: Of course, Solidarity Blogging is worth every post made towards the attempt. Blogging is not a one-man job, it is a collective effort. My blog won’t be Penny’s worth is there is no one to read and comment or leave Likes and Reblogs. A blog is a success when readers and followers take time out to read and let the writer know if he is doing a good job. The harmony in this unity is the essence of Blogging. The Aesthetic of blogging lie in team spirit and unanimity. I love to make guest posts and have guest writers on my blog. My most favourite are to read my writer’s friends blog and find something I can Reblog. You all are my inspiration and my strength.
The bloggers that I wanna nominate are:
  1. running Tizen
  2. magic Jan
  3. grounded
  4. livefree2sailfast
  5. heart afire
  6. andtwobecameone
  7. shopgirl anonymous
  8. never2old2dream
  9. Jason movie blog
  10. verbal seduction Ananya
The rules:
1. Write a post on your blog thanking the person who nominated you.
2. Paste the award in the post.
3. Provide a link to the blog of the person who nominated you.
4. Go to https://yoursuccessinspirer.com/2017/01/15/solidarity-bloggers-award/ and give a short answer to the question at the end of the post.
5. Nominate 10 bloggers for the award and inform them.
Happy blogging to all!
Warm Regards
Sakhi

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The Masquerade Invitation

She was sitting in front of the mirror, setting her hair. She was dressed and ready, Her makeup was perfect with just the right amount of lipstick, making her lips look a Rosy Pink, the eyeliner was making her eyes look mystical and dark. Her hair was set in a high bun over her head, exposing her long delicate neck and slender shoulders. The gown she was worn was black, littered with Swarovski. It shimmered as she moved, catching light. Not a single piece of jewellery was adorning her form. She dusted her collar bones with her Poison perfume. The scent was enough to drive the toughest man to go insane with just a single whiff. She picked up the Invitation card once again. It was a scroll, done in gold and purple. It oozed richness and class. She unrolled it once again to read it. It was handwritten, the slanting handwriting was a scrolled in a straight line. She could tell the man had a taste. It was written in ink pen on recycled paper, not the gel pens and hotel writing pads she used.

a09c12e78ed4262f062b31cbc9c06904.jpg“Bonjour Mademoiselle,

I am a man unknown to you but you are not new to me. I have known you from many lifetimes. I have been near you countless times, but never let you feel my presence. This deception is my armour, not my shield. I have nothing to hide from you, but not yet. You will know me, the man behind this facade. I will be at the Masquerade Ball tonight, come, join me, and see the face behind the Mask. You are a mystery to me. I wanna unravel you. I am cordially inviting you to end my subterfuge and let me step out of the darkness into the light. All you need to do is decide to favour me with your divine presence. I promise, no more games, no more tricks. this is my final act.

Looking forward to seeing you tonight. A kiss on my lady’s hand. I have sent you a Mask as well, you are free to hide behind it, till you decide to show yourself. I like to play fair.

Venue: Ritz, Paris
Time: 19:00

Your Secret Admirer

PS: I would be delighted if the lady comes wearing black.”

She rolled back the letter and looked at herself in the mirror. There was a mask in the box, she lifted it and freed it from its bindings. It was done in black and purple satin. She is going to meet this man, With determination in her eyes she wore the black mask and set out to Ritz.

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Love Potion

I know you’re Rare
I am ready to take this Dare

I want you, you’re Exquisite
But I have my own Prerequisite

We are the most Intricate Pattern
Be my Sun, My Moon, My Saturn

You decided to be Unendurable
Then just know I too ain’t Curable

Agreed that your Magnificent
But you know me, The Maleficient

Why Impossible to Untangle
Come Fight me, Wrangle

Sharp eyes, Piercing Gaze
Intense Puzzle, Harrowing Maze

Excruciating Perfection
Torturous Seduction

I will drink this Love Potion
Break and Shatter all your Notion

Let it go down my Throat, Poison my Veins
Let it Infiltrate my Blood, Loosen the Reins

No good will come from Fearing
Come, I am ready for this Searing

We will both rise again from the Ashes
From it a new Dawn, a new Sun Flashes

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Marco Melgrati Images

Marco Melgrati is a freelance illustrator based in Mexico City. He specialises in creating small illustrations that show the sad truth of modern life and how blind we are to the realities. People will have different opinions on the topics that Marco covers in his work, and that’s fair enough. But we can all agree that he’s got a talent for reading between the lines and expressing himself in his work, props to him.

1. Love your enemies

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2. Self Made

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3. Solving problems: logic or instinct?

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4. Social Media Narcissism

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5. Modern love

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6. Be whoever you want to be

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7. No more privacy

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8. Becoming trapped in work

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9. Karma

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10. Learn to use it better

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11. Power and politics

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12. Learn to forget, you are Capable

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13. What happens to America?

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14. Should be love.

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15. Everybody needs somebody.

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16. Pay attention!

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17. Influencers and followers

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18. The human cost of deforestation

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19. War in the name of God

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20. The language of the new media

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21. War is closer than you think

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22. Vanity

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23. From Consumerism to capitalism

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24. The hazards of optimism

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25. Smartphone addiction

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26. The Pinnochio of Politics

 

27. Social Media Confessions

28. When we say we are Bookworms

29. Think before you mess with it.

30. The Fearless Opportunist

31. You don’t need a miracle to change your job.

32. The Hard Way Out of Afghanistan

33. Always Be Ready When Inspiration Strike

34. European Central Bank Steps Up Financial Pressure On Greece

35. Relationship Status: Complicated

Marco Melgrati - Ways to Deal with a Complicated Relationship Relationship, love, deal, man, girl, woman, abstract, complex, intense, compromise, pink, kiss, true, feel, draw, retro, vintage, illustration:

36. Financial Advisors Banned for Tax Fraud

Marco Melgrati - Financial adviser jailed  for tax fraud:

37. Drugged Happiness

Marco Melgrati - What is the right use of antidepressants?:

38. Syria Civil War

Marco Melgrati - Syria's civil war:

39. Global Warming

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40. Future of Europen Union

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