Klynic

D o you sometimes get that elated feeling that there's something superior about you? That maybe ...just maybe, you are somehow a demigod and the rest of the world is blind if they can't see it?  Now I am not talking about the "I know who I am" mentality, but that thin edge between humanity and borderline  Narcissism . Where the only voice that matters to you is yours and your overinflated mistake of self preference. Here's what your overblown ego wouldn't tell you: that we all see through you, that we know how far gone you are, but somehow still stay because contrary to what you think, we actually love you. You've heard it in passing. we've said it to your face, you've seen it in our eyes and by our actions, yet the paranoic personality you have turned yourself into has bewitched your sense of good judgement.  Here's a fun fact; we know, we understand and still don't love you any less, but ask yourself this: How much more can we really tak

This evening finally came. I thought I had escaped it completely, but I guess somehow I knew I couldn't give sweet, nice, smart and geeky-in-the-sexiest-way-possible Amy, what she wanted. She always has an answer to every question and knows how to fill the silence in our conversations with witty statements that make me crack a smile, but tonight was different. I could see it in her eyes that I had hurt her, but I couldn't take my words back. I knew she'll forgive me in an instant if I told her it was all a joke. She has a big heart and maybe that is the problem. She sees an " us " that puts holy fear into my bones. "Gamophobia," Kenny chimed when I told him about the girl in my estate. To all the questions he asked, trying to find something to fault her, I had nothing negative to say. Her only flaw would be her capacity to love. Hers is a heart that can power an entire nation and honestly, it scares me. Meeting Amy wasn't a coincidence, at least I wa

Today it felt like I had mastered the trick. I believed that it was possible to care and not lose myself, it worked -- seemed to work for the shortest while, until he found the words I didn't want to hear. It was another sunset, like the many we've shared together. Another cool evening with the black soot in the air and the blaring horns of hurrying white-collar workers; tired of the days slaving at the office, permeating the air from the distance. We never cared about them, at least I didn't, and I doubt he ever did. I always looked forward to his calls every evening, and today wasn't any different. The phone barely rang when I hit the green button and closed my eyes to let his voice light up my entire being. It wasn't deep, nor did he have the baritone kind, his is soft and somewhat pitchy, yet he finds a way to sound so delicious that I taste him with my eyes firmly closed, and my lower lip in between my teeth.  "I'm at the gate..." his favourite wo