Syl65's Blog

She played the guitar to chase away the bouts of loneliness

She didn’t sing about the one that left her alone

She fed her soul empowering songs

He was full of shit

Missing out on the best thing that ever happened to him

A lovely spirit shouldn’t be reined in

He was a coward at best, couldn’t handle her free spiritness

Her loneliness comes and goes

But she refuses to remain frozen

Mending herself back from the brokenness

Through the breakdowns she sings

She sings strong

I admire her for that

She won’t allow anyone to rein her spirit in

No one should try to, I believe

Just let her be

Let her sing


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The Poem I couldn’t Write…


You remained as a poem I never wrote
within the book of my rusty thoughts.
My fountain pen then pushed my hand
to create a love song that no one sang.
The blue ink swallowed my very first word
as it knows it is something absurd.
My pen rushed to a shining daylight
but you resemble the evading twilight
I wrote about the rainbows we chased
but I didn’t mention the rains you missed.
Long journeys… to small paces;
swing sets… to rollercoasters.
I lied within every single line
to show a “forever” which we never align.
“Love is all about letting go” is what you taught me.
And… you still remain as a poem I never wrote!


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Racist pile on, Storified

Family Inequality

I made a Storify story out of a Twitter conversation I had with a bunch of racist Trump supporters yesterday. Here it is: Racist pile on. I can’t embed it here, probably just as well because a lot of readers probably don’t want to read Nazi propaganda, racial slurs, and gas chamber references.

This was the only thing they gave me that I actually laughed at.


It sums up the power theory of racism nicely. But you have to stop to think about it. That’s not really how it happens, two innocent kids saying the same thing. In real life it’s more like Black Lives Matter saying “We like to be Black, and I don’t want our people to be killed for it,” and a mob of DavidDuke/Trump supporters burning a cross and yelling back at them, “White power!”

But anyway, interested to hear what you think if you…

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The exploitation of rape victims by Indian journalists — Quartz

They sit on charpais (wooden cots), perch on treetops, speak to anyone they can get hold of, and, in between, eat chips and drink cups of chai (tea). This is not a picnic. These are members of the Indian media waiting breathlessly to pounce on anyone who can give them a sound byte for the…

via The exploitation of rape victims by Indian journalists — Quartz

From Hindu gods to Catholic saints, Indians worship the fair and lovely — Quartz

A Catholic priest has blown the lid off a long-held, but barely mentioned, religious bias over skin colour among Indians. People in this country are obsessed with fair complexion. India’s skin-whitening cream industry, which promises to render pretty much every body part a shade lighter, is a Rs3,000-crore behemoth. It peddles the promise of success…

via From Hindu gods to Catholic saints, Indians worship the fair and lovely — Quartz