Photography Poetry Writing

July 24, The End


It’s like watching a movie with the lights on
You’re paying attention to the glare
You’re not paying attention
Pay attention to the glare
You’re not paying attention

I should’ve,
If I could
But I didn’t even do that
I could’ve done this
I should’ve done that
Maybe if I did those
Maybe if I did this
By now, I should be here
By then, I should’ve been there
Before that, I must’ve been there
After this, I hope to be here
When did I ever get here?
I had originally planned to get there
There must’ve been a mistake down the line
My hopes and fears are words on white paper
And someone crossed them with a line
Who crossed them with a line?
Were these dreams ever mine?
What if it was me that crossed them off?
What if I don’t want them anymore?
Why isn’t it full yet?
Why did I miss that?
When did I miss it?
Why did it pass me by?
Why didn’t the others warn me?
Maybe it happened differently
If this happened like this
Then why is it like that?
If only it went like that way
If only that way went like this
If this is the end
Have I even got there yet?
Maybe we passed it
Maybe you distracted me
Maybe I should’ve done this alone
Maybe I should’ve had someone else
Maybe we went the wrong way
Maybe we haven’t reached it
Maybe we don’t know what it looks like
Maybe I’m the only one who made it through
That can’t be true, no, I still have you
Maybe my hopes and fears didn’t shine through
Maybe I was ambushed
Maybe they left me
By then, I should’ve had this
By now, I should’ve been here
Maybe I’ve fallen behind
Maybe I’m ahead of my time
By now, I should’ve seen this
By now, I should have this
But I haven’t even done that yet
But I haven’t even been there yet
But I haven’t even felt this feeling
But I haven’t even seen this through
Maybe we will get there even now
Maybe we will get there even still

Baby can you pause the love?
Things take time for me to shake out
It’s like watching a movie with the lights on
Can’t help but pay attention to the glare

By Ashish Seth

Photography Poetry Quotes Writing

May 8, AHHHHH!!!



The following… set to Santana’s “Samba Pa Ti”

“And when his heart broke, he crawled into the backseat of his Corolla and put his ear buds on. He scrolled down to Santana and played this song. “Samba Pa Ti”. He didn’t know what it meant. The phrase. Didn’t care. It sounded like he felt. That was all that mattered. He didn’t cry. Never cry. Often times when he was high, he wondered whether there was a doctor that would alleviate the heaviness in his heart. He realized he had been using cheesy lines a lot. And sometimes he would pull out his iPhone and jot down random thoughts. And sometimes he would listen to the same song over and over. Such were the symptoms of a heart on love. When the song “Samba Pa Ti” reached the end, he felt better. More upbeat. Less sorrowful. Less melancholy. Hopeful. He put the key in the ignition, backed out and headed for home. If he could pray for anything, it’d be courage. All he needed was courage and the rest he could do himself.”

By Ashish Seth