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The first poem I ever wrote about you was the beginning of something rare.
It spoke of how calm you made me feel and how nobody before you had filled me with such ease. It spoke of your breath and how it became the only air my lungs would accept. It spoke of when we kissed and how it caused flocks of birds in my stomach and electricity in my brain. I wrote with so much love that the alphabet barely had enough letters for me piece together my feelings.
Years or trial and error have since came and gone. You’ve cried torrential storms and I’ve drank myself sick trying to kill the parts of me that hurt you. In that first poem I wrote that I wanted your happiness above all, even if that meant being absent in your life. 
I’ve been holding on just fingertips for so long hoping that you’d pull me up, but today I’m loosening my grip and letting you find whatever, and whoever,will help you shine.
That was the first,
This will be the last.
—  My heavy heart will keep me down but I hope you find a way to fly.
It's been six years . . .

It’s been six years since we broke up.
It’s been 4 years since you started going out with her.
It’s been 2 years since I fell in love with another guy.
It’s been 6 months since we broke up.

And yes, it’s been 6 years but I still get butterflies, dragonflies, bees and birds in my stomach whenever I see you.

It’s been 2 months since you guys broke up.
It’s been 6 weeks since I started hoping that we still have a chance.
It’s been 6 hours since I found out that you guys reconciled.

Yes. It’s been 6 years but I still feel that twinge of pain whenever I see a picture of you with her, or whenever we see each other and you bring her with you. I hate it.

She’s so lucky to have you.

She doesn’t know that I still wish that I am her so that you’re mine.

I loved the guy I was with for two years but he never made me feel alive and giddy and happy. I was happy, I thought I was.

I posted pictures about the guy I was with them, lots of them, to show you that I was happy with him.

I wanted to show you that I survived without you. That I was in love again.

But you are so happy with her and I was miserable with him.

I loved him. Please don’t doubt that.

I loved him so much but you will always be my “If I Should Love Again” kind of guy.

You’re my first love.

My first in everything.

And nothing and no one can change that.

And here I am crying myself again because it still hurts. It hurts that you love her so much and you will do everything to be with her.

I was your rebound.

And I can never forget that.

could I please take a magic pill that stops the feeling of birds flying in my stomach and screams crawling up my throat. also I want to stop feeling gross and disgusting. and I want my body to feel normal


Purchasing Meat and Game


I had a hard time figuring out what to buy for the purpose of this blog. As a traditional Brahmin family from Indian subcontinent, we, especially my wife and kids, don’t readily go for pork and beef although as a culinary student I am trying to make myself more liberal in this regard. After a long mental exercise I decided on trying chicken gizzard, an inner part of a bird which is not usually a favorite for so many people for the peculiar smell it has. Oxford dictionary defines gizzard as “a muscular, thick-walled part of a bird’s stomach for grinding food, typically with grit”. It is hard and chewy entrails of bird and considered to be a healthy meat item for having no fat and containing high amount of protein.  I purchased about 2 pounds of chicken gizzard from Fu Yao Supermarket at Gerard and Broadview for 4 dollars.
According to the online sources, the domestication of chicken dates back to at least 2000 B.C. The people from Asia started domesticating chicken for meat and eggs. The Red jungle fowl called Gallus Gallus, which is still widely found in Southeast Asia, is considered to be the true ancestor of the domesticated chicken of present time. The sport of cock fighting not only enhanced the domestication of the chicken but also its spared all over the world. The main credit of distributing chicken worldwide goes to the ships and traders. The chicken in North America is believed to be introduced along with early European contact. The British and Irish people first brought chicken with them in their trade voyages; however, the real surge in poultry farming started with the “Chicken of Tomorrow” contest organized in the mid 19th century. Today’s poultry farming is done in large scale. It is mostly hybrid one although there are people performing purebred farming as their hobby.  Chickens are the most scientifically farmed animal of our time and 40 billion of them get to the global food system every year. Chicken and egg are simply the most widely consumed meat products in the world today.
The reason behind me choosing gizzard for this blog was to cook something unique which my kids would readily eat and also was affordable to me. Gizzard is hard and chewy as mentioned before. Therefore the proper cooking method would be to slow cook for a longer period for time or braise it. But I was worried about the smell that it would retain even after boiling and washing it. This time I am going to boil and simmer it for about an hour in salted water. I am also going to marinate it overnight with a little salt, cumin powder, coriander powder and asafetida, an herbal gum used in south Asian cooking. I hope the unpleasant smell to disappear at this point. Now I will deep fry the already cooked gizzard until it gains light golden colour.
We have to be very careful while purchasing gizzard because it is not a highly demanded meat product. We don’t need to worry about the smell it has as long as it looks deep purple in colour. Besides checking its best before date, we have to pay special attention to its colour. If it is pale, simply do not buy it.

Retrieved on 2015/05/17 from
Retrieved on 2015/05/17 from

C H A R A C T E R  D E V E L O P M E N T  C H A L L E N G E

day twenty five - surroundings

what does your character’s bed look like when they wake up? a mess on his side, the covers tangled at the edge, one pillow scrunched in half beneath his head
in what position might they sleep? either on his side or stomach
early bird or night owl? night
do they dream often? once in a rare while
do they have nightmares? if perpetual darkness can be considered a nightmare but only sometimes.