these days, after a few men down, a few friendships, loyalties and obsessions down... it all feels all the same. or may this too is a phase. a lot many times i have felt every mistake that i have made and every stitch that i made to mend it has changed something in me. i have believed,all of it has had something to do with what i do, how i look love and ignore today.but a closer, more honest look shouts out loud, i have been committing variations of the same mistakes. i have continued being foolish with math, wherever. i have continued being a glutton, a f aux pass artist, a scatter bread, a fatso, an irresponsible cutie pie, a semi nomadic baby who cries back to mum at the drop of a.. not hat but may be crown.

then how is it i still have felt different? was i lieing to myself when i said , "let's move on. this too, was an experience after all." ? why then did i have to be satisfied with what life fed me with? or was it the only option

because truly speaking, little has withered from the love that i could love, from the guilty conscience that i petted, or the loser attitude that i help myself with. how then, have you changed me, life?

how then have those men changed me? how then did those blood sheds matter. if all of it at all did, that little.. looks so negligible.