Ghosts in the Rain.

It's raining again, and he just keeps walking. The water holds him, wraps his clothes around him tight. He isn't bothered. he holds some pieces of paper in his hand as he walks the lone road with the golden street lights.. The thunder sounds to come from within him and the woods around him are thick and dark. Every drop that falls on him embraces him, every drop is his. The occasional car headlights and a honk sounds so inanimate to him. His heart at his throat, his eyes wet. He can't breathe. the mist that fumes with every breathe seems intense.

He now stands where he did four years ago, where he once began hopes of a new life. a point in his life where he knew things wouldn't be the same, and he was right. It's cold and he holds himself, shivering. He sits, quite. The rain doesn't exist anymore. He was there with someone. He held her hand, gave her his jacket. They sat together for hours together, without a single word. They would watch the sunset paint the skies a hue of amber that they would see in each other's eyes. An innocent little kiss. The cities night lights have always been one of the most romantic sights. Now, all that remains are ghosts of buildings behind the rain. He has been crying. He opens his palms and opens out the crumpled sheets of paper, sitting exactly where they did long ago. Letters from when she had gone away.

The rain slowly begins to blot the ink and it begins to drain away. He holds them out to read it for the last time. He gets to read the words " I'll be yours forever" ," I love you, take care" and the rain takes them away, slowly. The next letter, "I miss you ,I can't wait to see you". Then, " I've found someone" ,"I'm sorry, take care".

That was the last.

He doesn't have a clue how he was just erased off a memory. He is faithful, he awaits her every year on this night at the same spot, four years seemed to have been long enough, but he can't let go, he wont. He stays there in the cold every night until his body goes numb and he slowly returns, with his head bent low. Its time. He slowly gets up, and the thunder seems to be there to narrate the incident.

A loud screech of wet tires on the road, he turns around. Someone seems to be in a hurry and right through him. The car stops inches beside him and through the glass he sees her, she is badly bruised and bleeding. There isn't much time. He gets in and the car is off with another loud screech. She's scared, she looks into the mirrors anxiously, her lungs gasping for breathe and she seems afraid, terrified.

"He is after me"

"Who is?"

"Mark!"

Not another word had to be said for the bruises showed why she was so scared. She pauses to look at him.

"I love you, Ethan, I always have. I'm sorry"

Her eyes get back on the road. And there is a loud screech behind them. They both turn back. A pair of headlights race towards them as she speeds up. But there is no point, they know they are heading towards a dead end. It doesn't last long. They are stuck. They get out of the car and Mark arrives. He gets out, slowly. His gait's unsteady, his hands shivering. She hides herself behind Ethan. Mark spares no time and walks towards her. At arms length, Ethan stops him.

"That's enough, she isn't going anywhere.."

"STAY OUT OF THIS!!"

Mark advances for her and Ethan takes no more. He hurls his fist into Mark's face. Mark falls. Mark doesn't hesitate to take out his gun. Small but strong enough to let Ethan be fallen bleeding to death. She whispers into Ethan's ears.

"Please don't let him have me, please."

Ethan, in a flash, reaches out for Mark's gun. Gunshots are heard as she turns around, crying. Mark lies on the ground, dead. and Ethan holds her with all his love. They go back to where they sat long ago. Leaving Mark and the life after she had left, behind. She doesn't notice the trickle of blood.

They stay together, for a few hours, as that trickle becomes just too much lost blood. She holds him, crying. She holds him tight. The rain stops. Ethan turns to her, for a last innocent kiss.

"I am glad you came"

The amber of the sky fades into red and Ethan ...

Burnt a hundred times, I fear my next step
I wish I could be here forever,
never leave my corner.
A child takes his first steps,
to watch as everyone jumps in joy.
I wish I could be as brave.
I don't want to wake up.
If I had the courage, I would sleep.

The blissful Sunday morning is not mine.
The evenings cried on another's shoulders are not mine.
I am the child with the crutch
Who needs to let the crutch go to swim in this flood.
I'll grow up without it.

I listen to people talking,
I am here today
I shan't stay
Nothing to wait for.
No one would know
Not even when i'm gone.

I shan't look back.
Those days when no one would make me frown
I used to be protected.
This corner mine.

Repatriation

I rush into the room, I know something terrible has happened. I felt my heart in my throat and it wasn't cause I ran till here from college. I knew something terrible and I didn't need a message or a call to know it had happened. I knew it did. I unlocked the doors trying my best through the tears that haze the scene. A certain darkness guards the locked room. I beat on it for my knocks aren't heard. I am left with no choice but to break it down. I just hope that i was wrong. But i know I am not. I can feel him. I finally saw him. there was blood everywhere, the floor was flooded with blood. I knelt down, holding him in my arms and crying. I wish it was my life, not his. His gaze was lost but I could still see the sorrow in his eyes. I could see the helplessness. I pray for the strength to avenge his death and I feel powerful. I know his soul covers me now. I can feel his strength bind with mine gripping my hands tighter around him. I can feel the energy as if he is right there. His heart was carved out right out his chest and it was still doing its best to pump whatever blood was left with all the energy it could gather. he twitched slightly. He still wasn't dead, not completely, not yet. But there was absolutely no hope. When it finally stopped beating I took his heart. It was feebly connected to the rest of him. I brought it to her, placed it in her hands her and left. There was nothing to be said.

I went back to whatever was left of him. I lay in the pool of blood next to him looking at his eyes. It had lost all its life now. It still feels like he is around. In my sobs, I loose consciousness and I can see him. I can see him through his own eyes. His eyes hurt. He has been crying for hours now. He doesn't have the strength to stand. He stays still, kneeling. He prays for forgiveness. And plunges the knife into himself. He feels the cold of the knife in him, but it doesn't hurt at all, at least nothing compared to what he feels now. He drags the blade all the way around his heart. He pulls himself apart. The blood now flooding the ground after soaking everything he wore. He stops, holding himself up with his hands he coughs out blood as it gushes to his mouth. On all fours now, he knows he is done. He falls on the ground and looks out from between the drapes in his room to the sunlight. He knows what he has done has no retracing and he lays there, repenting his deed, knowing fully well that he wouldn't have stopped anyway.

I saw the fear in his eyes as he awaited the darkness. I saw the exact same fear once again as I staggered to the wash and saw my face in the mirror. I ran back to him, held his face and realized I was gazing at myself. I finally understood. I needed to come back to forgive him. I needed to come back to forgive myself. I kissed his cold forehead and held him tight as I disappeared.

Scars on Innocence

He's been in that house as long as he can remember.. but he wishes he didn't. The dirt and garbage didn't matter to someone who grew among it. The rats, his pets. His hideaway is just above his own house where he watches sunrise after sunrise, on his roof. He'd be there every time it rained as well, watching the raindrops fall on his head, cleansing him, and on all the roofs of the houses so close by, flowing through its slopes and grooves and dripping on the puddles below. He'd watch the menacing clouds as they soar past. Behind him he would often watch as the trains pass by high up on the bridge near his slum. He doesn't speak much for fear of being hit for it. The fading golden lights that light up the streets close by colours his thoughts, his mind, his life.
He runs away he could leave his home. Clambering over the roof tiles falling and hurting himself further but running still far far away from the place he lives in. He is afraid of everything around him but god. He cries himself to sleep under the stairs where people walk by without noticing him bleeding to his death. His innocence earns him the little he gets, begging from people, to taste the food his mouth watered for, the food the people sell on little carts. His companions are the street dogs. They are his blanket when he is cold. The most love he's got is from them, unconditional.
Grabbed and pulled away from his sleep, strong hands hold him brutally. He is taken away and put behind bars. A child behind bars, now cries, cries that cannot be heard by hearts of stone. He is beaten and asked for reasons on crimes he did not commit. His face brutally disfigured as he tried to stop them. He is left in the dark cold for days and nights that don't seem to differ.
He hears the sound of birds. After years of brutality he is back to the place where he started, home. Now unrecognizable and scared, he cannot smile. What lies below those scars is no longer visible. The beautiful innocent face of a 9year old is now gone. All that is left is scars, scars that don't allow tears, nor smiles.

Blood Tears

"You are not giving up now, are you?"

"I think I already have."

As she walks away he holds her once more and hugs her. He hides his tears as he walks away. He quickens his pace to a run and he can't stop. He can barely see where he is running but he runs home. The night is breezy and its cold. But it can be nothing like the way he feels. Tears blurr the world he is in, but he doesn't care. Its just before valentine's. But his heart is torn into pieces, but he cries more for the heart he broke. He just wishes to be punished for what he has done.



" " Just listen to her, she is right, trust me I've made her like that"

" Come on God! she is human and just doesn't see her mistakes. If only I could show her."

"No, Meo, trust me, she is always right"

I've always wanted to listen to you god.. But here I am doubting your creations, hurting her, I wish I could apologise and get all over with."

He thinks to himself in prayer. He is exhausted. He doesn't want to open his eyes for the bright light will hurt him. He feels really heavy. A hand touches his and he knows whose it is.

"Hey Princess, you came."
His voice is hoarse as well as apologetic.

" I came as soon as I could. I've been here a while now. Are you okay? You know the doctor says you shouldn't be talking at all. you need a lot of rest."

" I need to let you know that I am sorry......... I'm sorry, I'm sorry , I'm sorry , I'm sorry."

" You really mustn't speak or strain yourself, Please"

He kisses her hand and notices that his lips feel different. He feels his face and tries to recognize it. Its brutally mutilated. he can't recognize a bit of his face. Glass shards dug deep in his face and open wounds cover his face. He tries to remember the last thing he saw and could only remember seeing headlights, hearing horns and crashes. He sees her crying. Holds her hand again and kisses it again and again.

" I am really really sorry about what I've done. I should've... I...."

His eyes daze out as he gasps for air and his head falls back. Drops of blood from his eyes roll down is cheeks as his last drops of tears.

Butterfly Love

How do you save a butterfly stuck behind glass? When it is running from your hands, running to the place it sees beyond the glass, but it can't reach. It sees no other way out it can go nowhere. It's pitiful condition, its harmless nature and its divine beauty would make you want to save it. It has not much more to live and you would wish to give it all it can have but all you can give is its freedom. You reach for its wings and hold it gently try to direct him to safety and all you get is its life. Its wings are so delicate they smudge beneath your fingers. It can't even cry, can't call out for help, there is nothing it can do, not even express its pain. It silently offers its life to you. " Here take it" It can't even ask you to keep it safe, can't even look at you with tear filled eyes. All it leaves behind is a patch of colour. A patch of it's most brightest life. It's best qualities. It's best memory. It didn't ask for anything in return for it, not even its life. But when it is alive, what does it give? What has it done to have its died like this? Every time it passes by you it gives you a smile on your face. Every time it lands on a flower it gives it beauty. Every soft move is one's joy and how can it have a fate so cruel? Thats our souls that god put there. Our souls that smudge every time. Its our souls that try to fly and falls without wings. We that feel so small when standing next to something as powerful as the butterfly love.

The Light in the Tunnel

Its evening time, the forest seems a haze of red and green. The sky's crimson fills his thoughts. It is quite all around nothing but the wind in the leaves, rolling of water down a creek and the occasional cry of the birds. The valley slopes down and the sunset is barely visible through the maple leaves by the west over the canopy. The distant rumble warns him of the rains. But he just can't move from the rock he sits on. Its a small peak, the stone, its his hideaway. There is no one around for miles and the nearest sign of life is a half hour trail away. He is here alone. His shelter made out of wood he collected. He sits there everyday, every evening to watch the sunrise and the sunset. The creek gives him water and the supply of food would last him a week more. Its time to go home.
The night is rich with stars and its cold. The breeze blows through the openings of his little hut. A blanket covers his cuddled body. The rain has made the night cold and water seeps into the ground of his hut. The wind blows through the openings and slams down a photo frame. The glass cracked the photo of him and his family faces up, getting wet in the rain. He shivers and flinches in his nightmares and wakes up with tears in his eyes, sweating, breathing heavy. He looks around and picks up the wet photo wiping it on his shirt and folding it, putting it in his pocket. The hut is unstable and it sways as if it is about to fall. He hears flames and knows he can't stay there long. He puts all his belongings into a backpack and climbs down the hill. The creek leads into a tunnel one he hadn't entered out of fear. He hadn't seen the other end of it and didn't know where it lead to. But the road nearby had a fuel tanker that crashed and there were flames all around.
With water in the creek in flames and in the tunnel too, the pathway through the tunnel was a difficult route though that was the only one. He just kept running. All he had was now lost. All he had now is in his backpack. The smoke was making it hard to breathe and he found that he couldn't see. With nothing to guide him but the railing and the slight glow of the fire far behind he kept running. A doorknob reached his hand and he opened it. He was in a small closet with a bulb and tools around him. He sat there with the door open. He doesn't know how long he has been running or what time of the day it is. He cries himself to sleep. He is exhausted. Awaken by the sound of flames and the heat he starts running again. He sees a light at the end of the tunnel and thanks his angels for the rescue. The tunnel seems to be flooding and the fire raised, moving faster. It's dawn and the sun is just rising over the horizon. He is at the end of the tunnel. A mist of smoke seems to linger outside. Maple burning everywhere, he just walked into a forest fire. But it seems a better chance than the inferno he left behind.
He opens his eyes once more. Every thing is moving around him, the ceiling, people, the walls, windows. He raises his hand and finds his photograph burnt, only knees and a little boy's image remains. The tears hurt his burnt face as they roll down. Through whats left of his photograph he sees the sign board " Emergency Ward" pass by. One of the men in the uniform asks him," Sir, what is your name? Do you have any family I could contact?"
His tears roll down faster. The question is repeated. And he says "No".

"We are loosing him! Come on people work faster"
The constant beep slows down. The tone becomes constant.
"We lost him......."

Angel's Grace

I am broken, my wings no more standing tall. Been sitting on top here for a while. Nothing below me. Just broke down. Its raining and my wings are broken. My face bruised badly and my body as if just out of a fight. Each drop that falls on my body vaporizes after giving its stinging cold. Have I been cursed? How did it happen? What happened?.. I am just here and it hurts. The clouds thunder and lightnings crown me high above my head. All is lost. I sit here broken. I pray, to the god I lost faith in. I can feel my heart squeeze out its last. My tears mingle with the rain. I look at my hands, they are burnt, powerless, steaming. I have nothing except my sorrows. The world is as I can see grey and dark, nothing moves at all. The clouds though keep moving with a menacing and powerful grace. The wind, strong, blowing its might into my ears.
A little bird, lost in the thunders and rain, wet and heavy comes and falls on my hands. It needs shelter and is far from finding it. My last prayer before I too fell, numb was a selfless one for the little one he has left with me. A light burst upon me. The clouds part just enough for the sunlight to reach through to me. My eyes still closed. My hands still just protecting the little one. I feel warm. I feel his presence, his power. My wings burst out of my body. A new pair stronger than the ones before. My body as delicate as a new born's. My face radiant. The rain blocked out with the wings that stand majestic. The little one in my hands, reborn in his own state. I hold him one last time and climb above the rain. To the heavens where the sun is bright, the clouds white, the air cool. I give one more prayer of thanks.

A Prayer of Love

From now on lord, I give myself to one person in this world. I have stood alone, I have depended on a lot of people, but from now two people are going to live in this world you made a world where the beauty of eden was destroyed because man did what was forbid of him. A world where no two people can know each other as well as we know each other. We, lord, will pass through its most difficult tasks, its most difficult phases with nothing but each other in our hands. We thank you God for a gift that no one ever can get, no one can ever dream of, we thank you lord for a bond so amazing that it would last even in our heavenly homes. We will now take this gift and cherish it. As the gift the lord himself gave us and watched so closely. We love you god as much as we love ourselves. Though you ask for nothing in return, please accept our humble prayer. Amen.

Fall (A True Nightmare)

On top of the highest tower in the city, just me and her. Her hands in mine, I hold her from behind. She is so beautiful against the moonlight. I kiss her shoulder. The air is dead but cool. A crescent lights up the night sky a blue haze. A mist hangs loosely all around. The bright windows embedded in the shadows of buildings. The roads glow a bright golden.
I look up at the illuminating moon and take in a deep breath. I look down. I'm at the edge, alone. My worries leaving me. I stand there 50 floors high, feeling lighter and lighter. I don't turn back. I don't feel anything. I am numb. Without a second thought I fall.
I am falling face first. I am calm. No fear, I've seen the worst and am looking forward to whats coming. Its a long fall. Face first, I stretch out my arms slightly, gaining speed. Tears stream and are pushed across my face. I see the road below speeding up. The mist clears . I've never been so calm. Its all gonna be over in a while. Its cold. Its cold inside. The wind is all I feel. The past won't matter. Its not that I don't want to live. I'm just over the edge and its too late. The road below is just a few feet away. Its over.
I feel the last burst of blood from my heart. My last breath still within me. My last thoughts of her. My last moment of calm. My last words are apologies. My last hope is the end. My last wish, to live. The last few inches are here. If by a miracle I survive the fall the traffic is fast and it wont spare me. Its over.
I hear a scream. I don't know whose it is. I close my eyes, slowly, as if to sleep. The road at my face now. A last glimpse of myself I see not through my eyes but from away. I can see me just there. My face is about to touch the ground, millimeters away. So calm. I'm so beautiful. I have nothing left. This body too is almost gone. The moment passes. Its over.

The Village Angel.

The Journey's Start

Everyday a person lives his life hiding thoughts and feelings due to circumstances and then there are those who just are expressive and straightforward. I've been someone who could not express my grieves or sorrows. I learned a lesson today. When the world refuses to listen to you and you have to run by its rules. Stop and listen to yourself. I've been confused for such a long while as to who I was and what I wanted. I needed time for myself and to understand who I was. I needed to live a life without being dependent on anyone and so it began that my mistakes started to make effect. My mistakes were many and I had to learn and had learned from many but now I had to pay for my mistakes. I thus started at first solving the troubles created by it. Sure one cannot retrace a step once taken but I had to do what it takes to make it so. So began a journey not of steps but of thoughts that lead me a long way. I needed a supporting shoulder here but I had none, I just moved in here. My friends back home would not reach out to me I had to reach out to them, but then they needed answers and answers which I could not give without causing trouble I took my step, I needed this supporting person. I needed to live on with others in my life.
What had I done? I just made a mistake that could cost me everything I had. I risked it all. I took her for granted. There was something I knew immediately was wrong, but I could not retrace my path. Every door closes behind each person and going back is not an easy task and is often impossible. I had heard of it but now I have to practice its pains. I knew then where my fault lied but then I needed the help my mistake offered to take a route of less resistance. I hoped that my heart was right in trusting a soul like so with a secret that could take away all that I had.
The same battles occur again, I am again wounded in the heart I cannot go on without another secret told. I am not a soldier. I need not keep this pain to myself. I am at the doors that risked my everything once and now I am about to knock on it to see another person. My feelings are eating me inside. Its not the same person I had confided in earlier, its a new face and yet I find myself speaking my heart out. I had done it again. Another risk to my everything I realize not the troubles it can create this time. My heart is already consoled. I need not fight anymore I can take this path. I am safe here.
The door closes behind me and I do not hear the whispers behind them. I am consoled but have I made a mistake? Where is my fault? I find myself speaking to people I trust. Where do the whispers come from? Why do I not hear them?

The Beast

The doors do not open to me anymore. I find myself needing them no more. My risk has been taken and now the moment of truth has slowly crept upon me. I do not see the darkness. I stumble blindly upon the barren battlefield I know not where to face. The doors have opened again unleashing the beast within. A beast I cannot fight, a beast that eats me inside out taking away all that I have. I need to escape it. But now everything is gone. How do I face the world now. I am stripped of all I had. My words don't come out. I can't move my limbs, I can feel the pain gripping me. Where do I run from myself? Where do I run by myself? Wake up every morning to see the face that betrayed you, your face. The beast lives no more, but legends speak of its immortality. Fear lingers among others. The beast would do more harm to them than to me. After all it is their village. "“The Beast lives no longer‚" were the cries sent from rooftop to rooftop. The fear was still intense, I was sent out, in exile.

Exodus

The Beast has been sent to destroy my enemies but who does the beast attack when the enemy is my everything. Exiled by my own tasks, I blame none. But why does the village exile me so when I protected it from the beast sent because I was hurt by them? Thoughts run my mind and I am under a trance of penance. I forget my path in thought I loose my way. The nights never seemed so powerful. The moon is too bright, the stars too cold. The ground is frigid but when did I fall? How did I get here? How do I get out? How do I choose my path? How is there a path? How do I go home? What did I do wrong? I will burn the town to its ashes if it doesn't take back the exile. I gave them my best. I deserve none of this. The night is cold. I do fear my death.
"Halt who goes there?"” I hear footsteps near my ears. Have the Angels come to take me? Must I confess? "“ I'll lead you home", "home is not far, you will reach"; "“ Stand! Fight the village";” "“ Join the village"” voices haunting me. Whom do I hear? Are there whispers I cannot hear? Do I not trust? How do I live from here? Take me Oh lord. Send down your Angels and take me I do not want to live. "“Do not plead for angels, take out your own wings "” Voices I can trust again. I spread the wings and fly. "The village is not far I can still get back"

The Renaissance

Now I stand before the village. The village that lead the doors to unleashe the beast. The village that killed me. The village that exiled me. The village I call home. I am no longer recognizable. My Armour glows in the darkness a bright colour of love. My wings help me soar. My legs let me stand on my own feet. My sword slays the dangers to this village that will never cease to hurt me. My home I shall protect for each time I am slain by this village the more powerful I arise, and the stronger my love for this village grows.

The Desert Tree

When life teaches you something, you feel a step ahead in our vast enormous journey of life a pilgrimage we take to heaven for the soul purpose of the pilgrimage and not the destination.

In my dreams I came across a tree at the outskirts of a desert. A Tree filled with flowers and dark green leaves. Around it, nothing but the wind and sand and maybe a few ruins of a town ambushed by a group of people desperate for supplies to feed their family. The tree stood valiantly. It swayed a little in the breeze and its fragrance was sent even to the village nearby.
At a humble desert home. A boy playing next to his grandfather with a small seed sat to listen to his words of wisdom, "A tree is scarce in a desert and its soul is far greater than others as it stands in the heat to give you shelter, it cannot find water so it digs deeper to find it rather than give up and die. In a barren land it brings about beauty of nature. It expects nothing in return yet it gives so much using the little it gets. It stays a pointing star to people who lose their peace."
" Gran papa, Would I grow up like a tree in the desert?"
" That is up to your decisions, son. Do you want to be as powerful as the tree in the desert?"
"There is nothing I would rather want more"

The child swells up to see his grandfather's pleased expressions and runs out with a new joy. A joy of being one step ahead of the other children. He gathers the other children from his neighborhood. They sit down by the light of the campfire. He glances occasional at his grandfather across the flames with his group of friends. Exchanges a sudden soft grin and gets back to telling his friends how he wanted to grow the seed to see a big tree and grow to be like it by the time it flowers.
The moonlight shines on a few dark figures behind the large stones that surround the small settlement. A group of hungry thieves find their hungry minds in desperation to raid the settlement. They creep up to the top of the boulder and wait for a good moment. The hookahs and wine have started getting onto the small crowd. Their weapons sheathed by the side. An opportune moment.
A scream turns the attention of all to the boulder. The moon is covered partially by the figures of several bandits. The brave men run for the weapons while the bandits charge. The women screaming and picking their children run into their homes to lock the doors.
The boy sees bloodshed around him. Bandits running after the men with their swords slitting their throats apart. Some loot the food cabins. Bandits holding peoples hands gathering them to slaughter. The boy hides behind the flames praying for peace. He digs in the seed and remembers his grandfathers words. " A tree cannot find water so it digs deeper to find it rather than give up and die. He prays for peace and prays for the souls of the bandits as well as his family and kin. Tears streaming down his cheeks like streams of sorrow. He cries seeing his grandfathers eyes dazed out by death. He has nothing he can do but cry and pray. He is still unseen as he lies down beside his family crying silently.
By light of dawn next morning a bandit finds him still crying and pulls him to the others. Swords are unsheathed and the boy kneels crying, no revenge, no plea for mercy, no expectations, just praying for their shelter and his last thoughts were to be like the desert tree. Powerful in thought and action.
The tree now stands there in the memory of all those who died that night and the boy who gave hope to a seed in the desert to grow more powerful than most other trees, to spread a nostalgic fragrance to all those who survived. To stand a memory and never leave the boys home.

Introduction to Meo:

My mind has never been a place people have dared to enter. Some are afraid, most couldn't care and yet some prefer their hands clean.
My world is the dreamland I live in, a place where I don't believe in physics. A dream that I live in even when you meet me. You can see me sometimes with my eyes closed maybe in the rain. You can see me dream about flying while my feet are still on the ground. You can see me read your mind by looking at your eyes, and most often you could see me staring at the stars and clouds.
My emotions are something that take me a while to figure out myself. But one I spend thoughts over.
My abilities are something I can have all my trust in but no other could trust my abilities like I do.
My intellect and emotions were different but I have linked me and me.. That was my split personality