Thursday, August 30, 2012

Theme 134 - Fake

From @TheFookFace: Vijay liked to be called VJ. He did ‘rock music marathons’ on twitter. On a twitter meetup, he wore a leather jacket and boots. His newly acquired friends now started talking about those rock bands and Vijay kept his silence throughout. Embarrassed, he vowed to Google more before the next meetup.

From @AGirlOfHerWords:

A big fake world. Beating like one giant heart. The men, they walk, their footsteps echoing the heartbeat.
Fake world. Fake. With fake people. People.
Clogging its arteries, choking it. Making it harder to beat. It pumps faster, trying to keep up; trying to see what is real.
Is anything real anymore?

From @SahilBulla: She gently kissed him on his neck and moaned as she felt his fingers reach the pleasure point. She was slowly reaching orgasm and her screams slowly escalated.  Raju paused the video. He knew she was faking it but smiled as he poured some lotion on his hand and waited for the video to buffer.

From @swordfish19:
“…Milli Vanilli never existed…”
“…but their music does…”
“..but it was lip-synced..”
“…how does it matter? It’s beautiful music nonetheless….”
“…how can you say that? They cheated us, their fans…”
“…think of it this way. They were a symbol for the songs that somebody else sung.  They were a face. You ghost-writing....”

From @rohandroid: He was only 39 then. Had he declined their offer, they would have killed him; like they had already killed 11 of his other colleagues. He wanted to live. Don’t we all? So he accepted the offer and lived up to an age of 82. He had no choice. But still, he faked it.

From @slokabs: She always suspected him of adultery. He was always defensive about it – lavishing gifts on her, as if to prove his point. 3 months since he lost his job, “Time to put those gifts to good use”, Anita thought.With a heavy heart, she asked “How much for these ornaments?” The goldsmith replied dismally, “Nothing.”

From @roshd: She smiled brightly as she posed with her portly 48-year old industrialist groom.The media had labelled her a gold-digger. She didn’t care. Her hair extensions, facelift, rhinoplasty, boob-job and liposuction treatments were very successful. So was her act of pretending to be in love with him.She felt complete today. Completely fake.

From @Bwoyblunder:

"She dumped him after three years. You seem so fake now, she complained. She claimed she liked the "Real" him, with whom she had finished college.
Little did she know, she had loved only an illusion, and this was the truth. What we perceive as fake, depends on what we choose to believe is true."

From @JaaTeri:

He: “I broke up. It’s all about us from now.”
She: “How did you tell her about us?”
He: “I didn’t. I just said she was all fake.”
She: “Fake? But she is your boss too.”
He: “She was until she switched her job. I can’t use her anymore. No more love for her.”

From @TheScotchGirl:

He was reeling with the amount of praises. His colleagues were impressed.
He had achieved what he wanted the most from the time he was here – their acceptance.
They celebrated by going out for drinks. He had to leave for home early he told him though.
He goes home, to his smug father, the Managing Director.

From @MinolAjekar:

She stands there everyday, just smiling and looking pretty.
He smiles back, waves and winks at her too.
He knows, he’s being audacious, he knows he’s being a fool.
But he needs to change the games he plays, she was not going to come to life, like Kim Cattrall in Mannequin. 

From @absoluteme: Tara flutters them oft to get favours. She uses them to hide her lies. She winks and gets instant attention. She soaks them in tears at will. Sometimes she applies thick coats of make-up for even more drama. Only when she is back in her room, all alone, does she take out her synthetic lashes.

From @dopeywriter: It was the usual Sunday morning. The sun was glowing. Rajesh was out for his morning stroll, on his wheelchair. The colony kids were playing cricket on the field. Yusuf hit the ball for a six. The ball landed on Rajesh's lap. The crowd turned to him. There was a chorus shout: "Abe ball FAKE"

From @ponderpuffman:

For him Fake was a philosophy, a True way of life.
Fake sheltered him from moments. Fake helped him manipulate emotions.
He would whisper every regret to Fake and Fake would whisper back a sweet memory.
For him Fake was Truth and Truth was Fake.

He forgot himself in Fake. He found himself in Fake.

From @vchatting:

Looking vacuously,sipping whiskey like a tragic hero,he thought,"Not one stood by me in this mess. So bloody fake, this world.... I've no reason to live....."
Just then, he saw the scantily clad kid, across the street, valiantly fighting fireflies studying under a dim lamp.
An unknown hope, surged in him. "My life is real , all is not as lost as I thought perhaps..?", he thought.....

From @PeaceOVent: She talked like it was going out of style. She had an opinion on every event/subject. She could wax eloquent about the driest topic of conversation. She couldn't stop herself if she tried. What  she had were just words, no wisdom. Sadly the only thing real about her was her lack of self worth.

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