Letters

is this love?

it starts by listening to the same playlist on repeat,

its Finneas, Dean Lewis, Banners, followed by Benjamin, Grey

and a touch of sugar, spice and everything that peirce my heart.

I find myself wondering if the poems say it out loud

or the songs add the missing harmony

sometimes I find it in lines traced on old yellow pages

and at others in the random flowers pressed between…

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Tony (sleep deprived) : Come on kid move aside we need to analyse the place.

Peter (half asleep) : Mr. Stark...what are you doing here...

Tony (moving way too fast) : working on your new lab what else....

Peter : Whhaaaatttttt

Tony : Yeah...move outta way...

Peter : Does Mrs. Potts know that you are in my apartment at 4 in the morning.

Tony (vibrating ) : *_*

One day you will realize that you are not the center of the world and that...is...okay.

someone who realized this long ago.

INTRODUCTION OF SORTS...

INTRODUCTION OF SORTS…

Hope is a new thing for those who have been lost too long. I am in love with my future but I am scarred of what it might become.— Me (high on some random happy moment which washed away too soon) This is the first post on my new blog. I’m just getting this new blog going, so stay tuned for more. Subscribe below to get notified when I post new updates. Honestly I don’t know why I am even trying…

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The Story...

The Story…

I knew a boy,

little scared and little weird.

he knew a girl

little sad and little scared.

they sat together, wrote together

songs of distant past.

and that’s the story of …

he loved flowers

she loved stars

he would weave her hair

while she would fight the ants.

and that’s the story of….

she would put stones in her pocket

he would put buttons on dresses

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THE POST

ME: the day I join TUMBLR my first post is going to be funny and people will die laughing.

ALSO ME: (First day at Tumblr) I have no idea how to post anything. I am not funny. Why did i came to this site. I'll die alone.

The up, The down and everything between.

The up, The down and everything between.

THE UP

Its like the wind on the summer evening,

playing with your hair and making you smile.

The night sky is full with stars,

you can see the constellations you read about,

when you were 13.

There is music playing, ‘Its good to be back, no longer alone”

Your curve upwards and you let out a breath

you never knew you were holding.

There is dust on your face, but you…

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Person: call me

Me: has 34 panic attacks

Me: questions my existence

Me: nope (while having a meltdown)

Person: okay

Me starts feeling guilty

Labyrinth of suffering...

Labyrinth of suffering…

So, I am not some very intellectual bitch, I don’t read philosophical books nor do I indulge deeply in the ideas of life and life after death. I read fiction, well because real life can be very underwhelming and it is in fiction that I find solace. The thing is that no matter how hard I try to forget a book and it’s ending; some things stick with you. The labyrinth of suffering is the part of…

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somehow his talks about all the cravings i have had or will have...but mostly it talks about how i crave for the touch that i can never have the way i used to.

“You still crave lemonade, but the taste doesn’t satisfy you as much as it used to. You still crave summer, but sometimes you mean summer, five years ago.”

— Alida Nugent