Memory Jam-maker

I watched a movie today, which talked about how time can fly, how years can be stolen.

I couldn't sleep well tonight, I lingered on my bed and kept on thinking how that day when Grandma passed away, I had wrote a poem and placed it beside her now emptied bed. Quietly. Silently. Tearfully.

Memories

If only I could keep
Them -- fresh like celeries

To seal them in a jar
Behind the breakfast bar

The sweet and tangy tastes
Each time be still amazed

Will I, still be traumatized
Like today

Tomorrow, yes tomorrow,
I will be a jam maker
Spreading love on toasts

Happiness in Cans

If happiness comes in cans
Can it be pre-ordered?
I need a life-long subscription.

If happiness comes in cans
Who determines the best before date?
Please don’t taste bitter when expired.

If happiness comes in cans
Should it be termed a drug?
The more you get, the more you desire
Until one day, when it runs out, you will be beaten –
With no return.

Am I who I am?

During the day, it is hard to be my own boss.
Even at night, when I am really to take off the masks and become me again. I look at the mirror and ask myself:

Am I (still) who I am? Or has society changed me?

How can we forget

How can we forget?
The past can be a cage; Absorbed in your own fantasy, forfeiting the future.

I need to get out of the sweet happiness of my past and step into future (even if it can be challenging).

My very first post

First time writing a blog!!!!

Collecting memories, chasing a dream, sketching emotions, being myself.
Hope you will like it.