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Finding Neverland Blog Archive

The Numbness

Numb Feeling

Written By: Maham Shahbaz

`When he was little he thought that people only died when they were no longer wanted or no longer loved and cared for. He was so sure that he would too. There was something about that though, mother lost in all her day job and then night job and father who would come back at night after all day at work. Friends were not friends.

Years after that he gained intelligence and maturity but that theory was still in the back of his mind, always haunting him. He had a job, he had money, he had relations and he had love but there was something missing…a big void he never seemed to fill. What was it? He could never find out.
There were days when he wouldn’t even feel, he forced emotions like anger and happiness. Inside he was all numb.  some say that it is better than hurting all over but that’s not true, you see life is misery, happiness, solitude, companionship, mixture of everything and every feeling but the feeling of content. 

The Tangled Web.


Tangled Web

I believe in superstition. I believe friendships are sacred. I believe that if you make a promise and don't fulfill it you'll be cursed. I believe resisting the bad is the biggest addiction. I believe talking about good can turn it into bad and that bad can never be good. I believe that talking behind someone's back means you're letting yourself down. I believe black is the biggest turn on. I believe the best revenge is to stay quiet. I believe talking about sad things makes you vulnerable. I believe in telling after traveling.  I believe if you hurt someone you'll get hurt in return. I believe words are seductive. I believe that everyone should be judged by the good in them not by the bad in them. I believe doing is better than not doing, saying is better than not saying and feeling is better than not feeling. I believe that dreams always come true and oh, I believe in magic.

The Man who Quit Money

Daniel Suelo

Daniel Suelo lives in a cave. Unlike the average American—wallowing in credit-card debt, clinging to a mortgage, terrified of the next downsizing at the office—he isn't worried about the economic crisis. That's because he figured out that the best way to stay solvent is to never be solvent in the first place. Nine years ago, in the autumn of 2000, Suelo decided to stop using money. He just quit it, like a bad drug habit.

His dwelling, hidden high in a canyon lined with waterfalls, is an hour by foot from the desert town of Moab, Utah, where people who know him are of two minds: He's either a latter-day prophet or an irredeemable hobo. Suelo's blog, which he maintains free at the Moab Public Library, suggests that he's both. "When I lived with money, I was always lacking," he writes. "Money represents lack. Money represents things in the past (debt) and things in the future (credit), but money never represents what is present."

The Wager

Lonely Kid

Written By: Hafsa Sheikh

When I said I wouldn't talk to you again for as I long as I lived
I gave in after a day
but you, 
you could keep it up for three months and you did
you really did
you made me realize my silence doesn't mean anything to you
because what am I but a burden to you?

What am I but a waste of space hoarding your home with my existence?
what am I but a useless extension of you?
thank you for giving me your blood, I let it out every night to get you out of my veins
I fail, of course, because i am made of you 
(not because I'm incompetent)

I'm glad sleep comes easy to you after you tell me my death would be a source of relief to you
but why wouldn't it? this is routine for us after all -
you telling me the 'truth' about myself yet embracing the lies about yourself
a good morning in our house is when you wake up late and I've already left
and a good night is when- i wouldn't know;you lock me out if I come home after 10:00
remember that night in December last year?
you locked me out in the cold and I got pneumonia?
and you told the doctor it was because i was walking on thin ice? (I was, in a way)
what a beautiful way to start a new year
what a beautiful way to raise a child

I still have scars on my wrists but that's on me, I don't blame you
but the scars on my mind, that's all on you
and I hope when you hear of my death, you forget what I was to you
(I'll obviously die before you do)
but don't worry, I won't waste my time haunting you.

Tangled in the Web of Feelings

Strange Feeling


Written By: Maham Shahbaz

Warmth such as that of a mothers embrace and security that a father’s presence brings. But do you think it’s because of the gestures? No…it’s because of the strong love we feel for them and we believe that they would do anything. They might as well do anything because they have strong love for their children.

Why? Why do we get tangled in a web of feelings? Isn’t it stupid how you cry one minute and the other everything is just fine? Well played god! Well played! You keep us busy in these feelings that seem so real. Oh but what is real? Don’t you understand that we cannot be happy forever, there is no such thing. We cannot be sad forever, it’s not possible. We cannot have any consistent feeling, not love and not hatred. These feelings they will break you and they will mend you.

When was the last good Cricket World Cup?


Written By: Jonathan Wilson

The fault is probably mine. When you work in a sport, the tendency, perhaps, is to assume everybody is as wrapped up in it as you are; to believe your obsessive knowledge of the subject is normal. I think the football World Cup is too big and too bloated, that it would benefit from being scaled back with a more stringent qualification process, but I still watched every game it was possible to watch, made my notes and drew my conclusions. The cricket World Cup was rather different, and perhaps it's because of that it came as such a surprise to see it being so widely hailed as an overwhelming success.

The first I saw of the World Cup was Martin Guptill and Brendon McCullum laying into Nuwan Kulasekara and Lasith Malinga. It was 3am in Mumbai and I was struggling to adapt to the time difference. I was then struggling on a treadmill in the hotel gym as Steven Finn took the most pointless hat-trick in history against Australia. That was some Valentine's Day. I watched India v Pakistan on a big screen at a wedding where the lone Pakistani guest was mercilessly patronised.

The Moneyless Man


Mark Boyle

As told by: Mark Boyle.
If someone told me seven years ago, in my final year of a business and economics degree, that I'd now be living without money, I'd have probably choked on my microwaved ready meal. The plan back then was to get a 'good' job, make as much money as possible, and buy the stuff that would show society I was successful.

For a while I did it - I had a fantastic job managing a big organic food company; had myself a yacht on the harbour. If it hadn't been for the chance purchase of a video called Gandhi, I'd still be doing it today. Instead, for the last fifteen months, I haven't spent or received a single penny. Zilch.

Falling for You


Written By: Rosheen Aftab

I had always been a sucker for mystery.

Dark mystery, which draws you in as soon as you read the first page of the novel and you're so curious about what happens next, you feel like skipping the next few pages but that would actually mean missing out on the fun. So you don't do it but there's a hastened lava of feelings erupting inside you with every line, every word.

He was just like that novel. He was full of fun, tragedy, happiness and hatred, all at the same time. He could paint the sky blue and yet give a tornado warning, at the same moment. He was this unique version of a human being that annoys the heck out of you but makes you love him that instant.

It was exhilarating. Painful. Amazing.

The first time we met, I could sense the dominating vibes all over the room, emanating from the guy in the black suit with golden brown eyes. We hadn't really talked but I had felt an evil self of him. Like the innocent guy in the horror movie who is loved by all but turns out to be the real murderer.

Destruction.

The first word that comes to my mind, now that I think of him, is destruction. He was a storm, an F-6 tornado possessing winds blowing with the speed of light. He could attract the strongest thing to himself, twirl it inside and smash it to pieces without actually touching it.

I am not sure what I would do if I could go back in time and possibly change all that. Would I even want to do that? I ask myself this question so often, I'm not even sure if he's real or not now. Maybe he's just a figment of my imagination because he's too beautiful and just as cruel to be true.

In the deepest core of my heart, I know I wouldn't change it if I could, a million times. Because no matter how much you hate the ending of a story, you would never trade having read all of those words and felt the radioactive emotions for the beauty of oblivion.

Oblivion is beautiful. Just not as much as him.