I can’t describe how your eyes are deep as an ocean & im a newbie who doesn’t know how to swim & ik I’m gonna drown & frankly there’s no saviour & even if someone finds me drowning I don’t wanna be saved because now I have got too addicted to this overwhelming loving drug
A word, hundreds of meaning, but unnumberable way when it comes to describing. A word, hundreds of meaning but another thousand ways when it comes to explaining. According to me, simple words define creativity as the approach towards understanding of certain topic and presenting the original idea in such a way that it is easily understood and remembered by the way it was conveyed. Creativity is moreover, not seeing things for what they are but for what they can be.
Believing that creativity helps one in almost all walks of life is pretty accurate, wether it is related to arts or business or sculpting or even to problem solving. It is quite obvious to be welcomed by questions asking how problem solving?
Creative problem solving is a way of
approaching a problem or a challenge in an imaginative and innovative way. Problem sloving might be a difficult task for the doer and when difficulty stricks, chances of diliberating the solution gets tough. But when problem solving is accompanied by creativity, even the hardest of tasks can be conveyed in an intellect yet presentable way.
This reminds me of the time, back to the junior class when projects were given of researches, modal making, poster making and many other like this. Not bragging, being amongst the prudent students of class, my teacher expected the best out of me and well that what teacher are supposed to do. Intelligence and internet helped me to come up with the best of matter, yet the matter of not scoring well disappointed me always and gradually expectations became less and so wasn’t interest towards studies The question of why was I being up to the mark disturbed me. So, once I had not been able to comeplete up with the assignments on time and a friend of mine helped me to do it and to my surprise the vast amount of rich write up was read by my teacher, probably for the first time and that was the day when I realised the importance of presentation and deliberation.
Time took for me to identify my creative skill, which was, being able to pen down my feelings, thoughts and ideas which undoubtedly helped my a lot in every walk and when I recognised my ‘very skill’, it became prior since after. It helped me to upgrade my presentations, projects and also supported me emotionally as writing down what I went through, made me felt light. Also, I was no longer susceptible and stoic. Talking forth my skill resulted in my blogging which boosted unexpectedly.
As I mentioned above about problem solving, my skill helped me as writing down the mishap I faced and then reread and analyse the situation made me aware of when and where I or the other person was going wrong because we never realise what is wrong and right in the times of anger.
When I look towards my blogs, feelings of doing more and more and better and better comes. It all started as something personal to sharing these little stories with the world outside. It has undoubtedly helped me in many ways and will continue to be. Moreover, identifying my true skill helped me raise my level up from mediocre. Also, later in future I do aspire to be sharing my write ups with magazine or anyother if luck turns towards my side.
i ask for an apology
for all those times
for all those nights
i was screwed
i was messed
i was a nutshell
kinda disowned by my mains and
i came up to you
on the verge of breaking into tears
billion of stuff stuck on the tip of my tongue
blood dripping down my wrist
hair all shabby eyes all red
the first time, i remember confiding into you
no worries of being judged
no worries of being cheated
no worries of being played
no worries of being broken
how do you manage to make me feel so light
even when i’ve tons of, puddles of, guilt, depression, tears, fear, hate, misery, sorrows
flowing in, with the blood
for being so selfish
for coming to you only in my bad times
and forgetting you in the good ones
for being conditional, not once/twice but maybe always
for abiding in all those poetries which never really rhymed
like this one
for not letting you rest, by coming at 3am or sometimes at 3pm
sorry for the tears
which fell upon you
making you a bit soggy
a bit too untidy
my dairy ❤
Why die young When you’ve songs you haven’t sung
Sites you haven’t seen and places you haven’t been
Why die pretty
There is a world outside the city
People you haven’t met and secrets you haven’t kept
Why die so fast?
These moments will pass
There is the book you will miss
There are coffee cups you haven’t kissed
Meadows to walk through
children to talk to
books left to be read
so why? Oh! why do you wish to be dead?
Why even die when you can travel alone?
Leave this world
And disconnect your phone
Why even cry over someone’s world?
When there is someone’s ‘I love you’ you yet haven’t heard.
As you stare at that vein kissing that knife
Think of all the things you’d miss if you end this life.
If I were you I’d wait for the scars to fade. If I were you I’d put down that blade.
Judge? Judge her because of her past.
Judge her because of what she wears.
Judge her because she alone hang out with ten guys.
Judge her because she stood alone.
Judge her because she never repented upon losing the bad ones.
Judge her because your dejections never let her down.
Judge her because of the rumours you listen about her.
Judge her because of the emo yet bold side of hers.
Judge her because she doesn’t get broken.
Judge her because she still carries a smile rather tears on her face.
And judge and judge and judge
Because all you have learnt is how precisely one can judge.
do you ever just feel so lonely? feel like you’ve so much to tell, but you can‘t put that into words and tell to anyone? then, even if you somehow manage to put everything into words, you realize you don‘t have anyone to speak to?do you crave for someone‘s shoulder to cry (just like me)?
you know what, cuteheart?
there is someone waiting for you to turn up, someone who wouldn’t need your words for you to express, someone who would be there, always.
just get up, walk towards your vanity or dressing table and look at that beautiful reflection of yours. there is that someone. touch your own reflection of tears in sorrow and your smile in happiness. quit hustling yourself in finding an inappropriate, not needed, other so called half of you because in the end all that you’ve is only YOU, no one else.