How can I not be able to let go of my train of thoughts? Tired as hell but incapable to just let go; can’t drop this nagging feeling in my chest that something is wrong… Will I ever let go though?
And though we may seek the truth, it’s not something we want to know
As an only child
I enjoyed a quiet night,
When the refrigerator hummed
And the hobbled expressway
Gobbled car and truck tires alike.
But now that I am a father,
A quiet night is more precious
Because it is an indication
That the sleeping baby constellation
Is visible, its glitter scored
Now and then
By the shooting star
Of a decapitated sneeze.
Never ever let anyone play the main character in your life.
grief does not always happen because of a death of a loved one or a breakup. the only way we have been taught as a society grief must be. organized, in black, a tidy knot fit around the baggage.
sometimes it’s the intangible. grief over who you were and can no longer access. grief over who you might have been if not for this major puzzle piece of trauma. grief over who you thought someone was but they showed you decisively they weren’t. grief over the innocence of childhood that you are too old and weathered to still hold on to any semblance of. grief over the loss of your body as this sacred thing, now that too many men have degraded it. not just the blatant violation of everything you thought was your own, but also the exoticizing, the admiring it in the bedroom but disrespecting the rest of you, the taking and taking without realizing you are a woman of heart. grief over who you were before depression clouded your mind. grief over plenty of bad decisions, embarrassing drunken nights, mortifying revelations of the incomplete project you were. grief over that one friendship you could have saved. grief over the partner who just could have loved you a little more, a little longer, a little more openly and authentically, and maybe it would be different. grief over not being the perfect child of immigrants even though you have all the building blocks - degrees from great schools, intellectual curiosity, various skills to brag of, knowledge of culture and the mother tongue - but not the mental stability or the lack of frivolity or the emotional stoicism. grief over shedding people who you desperately wish you didn’t have to leave behind like a snakeskin. grief over loving people who don’t look or act like what society’s norms have dictated, even though to you, they are nothing short of magical. grief over mortality and its significance in ending relationships. grief over what you know is lost in your heart even before your head knows it.
Maybe she never asked about your scars,
because she already knew.
She knew how hard you worked,
to get to this point.
Asking would be the equivalent
of another blade,
dividing the superficial layers
of your blissful skin
with every fiber clinging to life.
And she didn’t want to do that to you.
Some can see the beauty in the scar tissue
that brought you together again;
Healed by second intention.
All I have is verses to offer to you,
Strings of letters that I sew together,
Making tapestries on paper with ink,
Weaving threads and motifs
of grief on my spine and drape it around my neck,
My fingers brush past the brocade of toxicity
And my rings entangle with tussles of betrayal,
The tapestry hanging on my back
suffocates me with guilt and my face turns blue
I drag myself with the weight of my sickness
That I weave together as an embellishment to my sins,
Vices of all - the lust for more. - Disha Nair
why do you make me choose between you,
when none of you want me anyways.
This year, I learned about the power source of magic that lies within. It was dormant for many years. I repressed it’s ability in order to hide from the reality of becoming my greater self but, the magic never died or ran out. Just rekindled and powerfully evolved as I matured. As I learned how to master my mind and heart, I was enlightened in the area of understanding my purpose and controling my sacredness for the greater good; The magic within me burned that which served no purpose. Gifting me the space needed to work and grow amongst the mayhem I knew. As I gained focus of whats important - I, as a person, began to transform. Freedom was achieved. Blessings were released. New talents and abilities were discovered. Functions and boundaries were made and applied. Anarchy arose for the right reasons. I was stripped of everything I thought I knew. Now, awakening to a new reality and world. Order was taking place right before my eyes. That’s when I realized, I was reborn for such a time as this. The magic was proof. There was something in me that the world needed. But, what?
To be continued…
Guys, I REALLY need motivation for writting.
Please gimme energie.
—————– 🌷 याद 🌷—————–
कई सालो बाद,
उस रात सी लग रही हैं
जिसे छुपा रखा है मैंने ज़हन के कौनो में कहीं
याद उस रात की आई
संग कुछ यादें लाई
याद, याद में याद दिला गई
याद उस शक्स की
याद, याद के साथ
ले आयी कुछ अक्ष्क भी
लगता तो मुझे यूं था कि, बढ़ गया उन किस्से - कहानियों से आगे, कहीं दूर था मैं,
कई सालो बाद रात लग उस रात सी रही है,
दर हैं सीने में
कहीं हो न जाए कुछ अनसोचा फिर
रात उस था कहीं!
© ख्यालात ❤️
All works original
Share works with credits. ❤️
the risk of hope is empty, and so are the pits of our stomachs.
we’ve consumed so much of what we want than what we need,
that our breathings are
slow paced and hollow.
the shadows are no
longer just shadows,
they have become mindless creatures, lurking in our darkest memories.
memories but are hazy, and dull.
we tend to forget.
we tend to hide.
from the shadows and the from light.
from the hope and
from our silent cries.
©️ All Rights Reserved
Image Credits: Pinterest.
Miko passed her the gun in a hurry. “Here, this is your weapon.”
“What?” she muffed, looking surprised at the gun. “I can’t use this! I never held an actual gun before! How do I even…”
“You never used a gun before? Hmm. Well, that complicates things a little,” he interrupted her.
Miko thought for a couple of seconds, then asked: “Have you ever shot with a Nerf gun?”
“Umm, yeah? I was a nerfing champion - that is how you met me, remember?” she shook her head in a slight disappointment at him.
“Right. Okay, that should do. For now, at least.”
Sometimes all you seek is silence… .
I push away from you more. I question doing things that used to make me happy. I hide feeling sad when you’re around. I don’t cry in front of you anymore. You’re no longer my safe space. Yet I continue to hold on to some sick naive hope that you’re going to wake up one day and look at me like I’m the one you have been looking for your entire life… but it’s one kiss a day. It’s me constantly begging for appreciation, recognition and even just attention. It’s a sick thing.. love.
You’re going to break my heart
And I’m going to let you.
Because whatever happens
The pain of losing you
Is infinitely bigger
Than the pain of staying.
Hay días que esconden tristezas, pesares y miedos.
Hay días que se quedan con ilusiones, con suspiros y sueños.
Hay días que te quitan el aliento, que te roban la calma y te llenan de incertidumbre.
Hay días tan grises y tan claros.
Hay días tan eternos que son efímeros.
Y hay días como hoy.
Este día día que te recuerdo y todo lo bello y vano del mundo se juntan en un lamento, en una sonrisa.
“Where am I?" I exclaim when I apprehend that I can’t speak. My mouth opens, but words don’t come out. I’m in a dark room. I try to examine the situation. It’s a small box that barely holds me. The walls are cold and smooth. They feel hard against my hands as I try to push them away. I’m not claustrophobic, yet I feel trapped and dizzy.
"I don’t understand why I’m here." I cry out.
Suddenly, my naked feet feel cold, and, I realise that there is water filling from the bottom of the box. Now, I start panicking, at this rate, I’m going to drown. Do I want to drown? I don’t think so then again I could be wrong.
The water has now above my knees. I hit on the walls still they don’t budge. I start screaming yet I can’t hear anything coming out of my mouth and then I hear it. It is my best friend laughing and whispering insults. She is telling me how she hates me. Other voices join her, my friends, cousins and at last, my family. It’s my Parents muttering about how I’m a disappointment and how they hate me.
The water is on par with my shoulder now. I struggle to keep my head above the water. I can’t see anything, I can only listen and feel. The feeling of dread washes over me. Is this the end? Am I gonna die now? Will anyone miss me now?
The water is now finally rising over my mouth. I struggle for my life, but not hard enough. I hold my breath the best I could and scraped my fingers trying against the walls struggling. I kick and jump as I become desperate to live.
I let out another breath of air, this one more copious than the others. My body goes limp, my mind goes blank and I give up on all effort. I just let go, and my flaccid body just floated in the water for a few seconds. My lungs had more or less given out, and then there was no pain, just comfort. I truly experienced nothing for the first time………..
I wake up drenched in sweat and shaking. "It was just a dream," I assure myself and drift into the land of nightmares again…….