Will grow up tomorrow…i swear ;)


I try to convince myself that i’m growing up and it’s time i took responsibilities. But beneath that i don’t want to grow up. I want to float in my world of drawings, comics and childish stupidity. I still seek sweet scoldings of my parents 🙂 I still want my world to be revolved around by only friends who talks weird and dirty :3 I want the absence of a bosses bossing around telling what to do and what not to. I want my family to be bugged away by me forever. I want the most impossible task in my bucket list to be possible. I want you to be more optimistic about my victory over passimistic thoughts. I want to read all the classic novels than just praising how rich their contents are. I want to see that memorable quotes from even a forgettable person getting famous. I want to see people having fun without any intention of interest. I want life saying to me ‘Your wish is my command’. I want those three wishes and make wish “May all my wishes come true”. And i know these won’t happen.      

I will have to grow up eventually in this cruel world. I will have to give in by giving up. If i’m obligated to do so my answer will always be…i will grow up tomorrow i swear 😉


Dirty Wordstory 101

(Find the meaning below)

Once there lived a boy. He was predicted to be a pyknic; the night he was born. Not long after the abecedarian age he earned the title cruciverbalist defeating own teacher in a contest. He was good with words. People even loved his adoxography despite the fact that those were inaniloquent and their charientism quality. As he reached puberty, he wrote a novel ‘Nights with a masochist’ which turned out to be a huge success. This proved lethologica a false myth for him. Still some thought him a philosophunculist.

He was famous by then. That developed cacoethes and hunger to meet that. One of those was matronolagnia! And the woman was his middle aged teacher. She was divorced and had this cachinnation laughter. . Her tarantism was one of the things that attracted the boy other than the callipygean of course. She even passed his tendency of colposinquanonia without a bump. She eas attracted to the boy’s blandiloquent manner of speaking. She even aided his strikhedonia being silent to the hadeharia. Despite being misocapnist she loved nepheligenous smoking of the boy. The boy was in fact a whole package of guilty pleasure. She never mind to meet his hunger of ximelolagnia through shameless vesthibitionism. She seeked pleasure in the vibe and believed there was a strong connection between them. His apodyopsis caused her gymnophoria- she believed that. And that was a weird story of vanishing interfenestration.

Pyknic: short and fat

Cruciverbalist: once who loved doing crossword puzzle

Adoxography: skilled writing on an unimportant subject

Inaniloquent: speaking foolish things

Charientism: an artfully veiled insult

Lethologica: inability to recall precise word for something

Philosophunculist: one who pretends to know more than they do to impress other

Cacoethes: insatiable urge

Matronolagnia: an addiction to older woman

Cachinnation: hysterical laughter

Tarantism: urge to overcome melancholy by dancing

Callipygian: having well shaped buttocks

Colposinquanonia: estimating an woman’s beauty based on her chest

Blandiloquent: speaking in a flattering manner

Strikhedonia: pleasure of being able to say ‘To the hell with it’

Hadeharia: practice of constantly using the word ‘Hell’

Misocapnist: one who hates the smell of tobacco smoke

Ximelolagnia: urge to stare at woman who are sitting with crossed legs

Vesthibitionism: a flirtatious display of undergarments by a woman

Apodyopsis: act of mentally undressing someone

Gymnophoria: the sensation that someone is mentally undressing you.

 Interfenestration: the space between two windows.

Child’s play

I’ve always been a shitty agent of creativity. No wonder that i like to work with thrown away used elements. If you think deeply; the best creation since…. created from mud- Human. That does offer me some credit no? The following things are made from recycled paper, window paints left after use, boiled rice glue, nut shells, root of tree etc.

564020_418481701544248_366172592_n Love triangle


480934_418481661544252_1460319223_nThe Love birds


“Happy Ending”

Literally, life is a long way to the end, to the banishment, to the unknown place or no place at all. Life, combination of dozens of fearful mysteries. waiting to burst, to hurt, to harm.
Then why they call it a blessing?
Yeah, i figured it out. You are the one always bless-coating life making it appealing and desirable. You are the one holding my hands and telling me, “Keep it up my love. We will be together to the end”. I don’t panic. No place for it in my mind. Cause my mind is not mine anymore… its all yours my love.
that day when we kissed we exchanged our minds, our souls and knotted them together… an everlasting bond of love. I promise. Do you?


Lost in the woods.

I am lost in the woods. Through long growing never lasting woods I see… sky is dreamy blue, seems like holding thousands mysteries. Clouds searching heaven when birds go along with as friends, saying good-bye to family and swear, ‘We will be back when sun sleeps’. A baby bird crawls out of a nest. I find it dumbfounded and impatient to fly with dad to the horizon where heavens wait.


Lost Ladybugs

The red and black beauties putting tiny steps behind their mom ladybug. Lost like me. Searching living hole restlessly that was a little away. I figured it out, saw their dad waiting at the door. I carefully stepped forward and unhurriedly sat on mud, drew a curved line to their little domicile. ‘Here you go pretty creatures!’ Mom followed the way to the home. She was thankful. They got together… seems like a great hug from dad


Home at last….