Inspiration

surprise surprise

~ Aakash ~ 5 Comments

Hello there lovely people,

I have some exciting news today for y’all. I have been working on my first book for a while now, and it’s finally here! It’s called “Three More Days” and I couldn’t be more excited sharing it with you 😀

so happy GIF by Manchester City-downsized_large

You can get your copy on Amazon (I’d say get at least 3 copies, you know, just in case) and share it with your friends as well who are into poetry. It also includes a shoutout to all my wonderful readers, so yes, y’all made it in the final version! Honestly, I would’ve never thought of writing a book if you were not this amazing with your responses to my posts here, so it’s really all your fault that this book is out now.

So accept your responsibility, grab a copy, and let me know if you liked it (or if you liked it).

Cheers!

crossroads

~ Aakash ~ 2 Comments

she had a
wile smile
that stopped right outside
the intersection of
lustrous
and guile.

while her roseate
lips talked sense
in the diminishing direction
of her moving wheels
I revisited my
reasons
of the night
and talked them out
of blooming in direction
of the light.

but who really gives a shit
when I talk?

I ended up with jack
on my right
standing at the intersection where it all started.

what the hell,
you know.

that perfect glimpse

~ Aakash ~ 8 Comments

the fresh smell
of a newly
laid mattress
on a perfectly assembled
bed frame roams
in the air

filling the room
with the virtuosity
of what only money
can buy.

a single glimpse
catches the painted
reflection of a newly
furnished life.

there’s nothing wrong
with that glimpse.
it’s all you’ve
always wanted to be.

silence.
utter silence.

and then you hear
a water drop traveling
down, reaching for
the sink,
to be in touch
with something it
belongs to.

or maybe your heart
wants it to be
that way.

this is what
loneliness
looks like.

A friend’s story

~ Aakash ~ 1 Comment

I began my study at FCC (CodeCamp) on December 17, 2015. I studied my ass off and 290 days later on October second I was employed as a web developer with Verizon.

I came from the gutter. When I began I had not a penny to my name, no income whatsoever, and I was living at my in-laws’ house, and had no idea where my life would go.

Now I make more money than 90% of Americans. Not to brag, though. I give my money to my misses because she’s never had anything and has always been so deserving. I give my money to my mum because she has never had anything nice. I pay my brother over $1,000 a month to study at FCC so that he too will be able to enjoy life one day.

I’m 100% broke half way through each pay period because I found something I love doing so much that I don’t want for anything anymore, and don’t even care to keep money in my pocket. I just want to code and see to it that those that do yearn for more can have a chance to at it.

So yeah, “me me me me me, look at me”. I did it. And I’m not telling you this so that you idolize me or think “wow, that dude is rich” or “that dude is a great guy.” I tell you this because I want you to know it is possible. I don’t want you to quit because the dream seems unattainable.

I’ve seen it dozens of times. Don’t be a statistic, friend! Be a success.

if you’re going to try.

~ Aakash ~ 3 Comments

“If you’re going to try, go all the way.
Otherwise, don’t even start.

This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives and maybe even your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days.
It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery–isolation.

Isolation is the gift.
All the others are a test of your endurance, of how much you really want to do it. And, you’ll do it, despite rejection and the worst odds.
And it will be better than anything else you can imagine.

If you’re going to try, go all the way.
There is no other feeling like that.
You will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire.
You will ride life straight to perfect laughter.

It’s the only good fight there is.”

— Charles Bukowski