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‘Denial.’ def.: She’s Dead and I Can’t Write About it
I want to write about my poor obese grandmother lying on her back with her mouth slack and her hair damp in a shabby government issue hospital bed, illuminated by a single flickering fluorescent blue ceiling light that can’t make up its mind. →
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I Have Not Forgotten You
This is for you, hungrily hunting for anyone/anything that will make your heartbeats sound like festival music and not a funeral march. →
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Bye Bye Birdie
Now that I have no way of actually speaking to you, let me speak to you. Let me talk to you for a little while. Why don’t you make yourself a cup of coffee – even though it makes you sick – and settle in. This might take a bit of time. →
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To You, The Effortlessly Lonely
Understand that loneliness is not the absence of people. It is just absence. It is feeling like you have a pit where your stomach used to be, a well that keeps on sucking in any small moments of light and air that you might experience. Loneliness is greedy and it is selfish and it does… →
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Better Me Than You
Relationships, especially modern long term relationships, are as difficult as they are gratifying. Yes, you get the fabulous experience of always having someone to rely on and talk to and what’s more, they’re yours and isn’t that great? But then there are more insidious effects: you become so used to talking to them and relying… →
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Exploring Tinderland
Gabriel, 25, from Spain loves to read obscure German novels but Andrew, 24, from Canada writes complex and tragic haiku! However will you choose? →
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Shiny Things!
To you who doesn’t know how to love, and to you who effortlessly takes me for granted, oh, and to you who doesn’t even see me. To all of you, adieu. →
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London and I: A Tragedy (3/3)
Remember when I called you crying? And I said I’d had it: fuck the internship, fuck my degree, I’m coming home! You listened and then you told me to keep my head high. You told me I was better than the stupid anxiety, the isolation and the fear. →
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London and I: A Tragedy (2/3)
I had about 3 weeks left when it happened: I had an anxiety attack. You have to understand: I grew up with family and loving friends always around. I was used to sleeping next to and waking up with my sisters. →
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Lover Song
But here’s what I wonder: why must you teach me sharp lessons? I thought love was like falling into each other softly, not smashing headfirst into steely concrete and splitting heads open. We’re bleeding all over the pavement, don’t you see? →
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Inside Jokes
i miss all the secret places i found; you hid your scent in intricate hideaways in the palm of your hand or the back of your ear or, the triangle-hollow in your neck →
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Interested Applicants Must Shower and Apply
I’m always curious to know what it means when the people, or let’s be real, the Internet diagnoses two people as ‘mismatched.’ I mean, there are definitely things that don’t work well together: apples and oranges, hot cheese on ice cream or like, me and pigeons. →
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“Soulmates”
I met someone for the first time recently; I had been apprehensive and worried about what I would say. I dreaded an awkward silence and fumbling for words to make small talk with. Would we talk about the weather? Even fierce thunderstorms become glamour-less if you discuss them over and over. →
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On First Love
When I think of first love, I don’t think of him. I don’t think about the soft bridge of his nose, or the way his eyes slanted away from each other in small, sloppy angles that I could only see if I was close enough. I don’t remember the contours of his face, or the →
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Protected: The Definitive Guide to Being Single, LOL jk
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post. →
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“Let’s Break Up Today!” or you know, How To Not Do That
Dating tips invariably end with warnings that say: “He/she doesn’t have to be the one!”, “Just have fun while you’re in it!”, “Don’t date someone who lives close by, because when it ends, it’ll be much harder to get over!”, “If they hold you back, leave them immediately!” and more and more. Stupid, stupid. →
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Watermelon for breakfast
Today I had watermelon for breakfast. I had eggs in the morning – but that was a year ago. Yellow omelette with green pepper flecks; the ting of the toaster the maid’s brown hands on the crusty bread. Baba at the table: two silver forks on his plate; one waiting for me. * I flew →
Nayab Malik 