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[angel-pages]

what is ur fav colour?

i spin her if only to give myself some time to think .i d never thought about what my favourite colour was before it never seemed important not until i looked into a pair of oceon blue eyes and realized that perhaps drowning was a beautiful thing not until i looked into a pair of fiery blue eyes and realized that burning was painless thing not until i looked into a pair of sky blue eyes and realized perhaps falling is a peaceful thing i d never thought what was my fav colour before because i hadn t seen one that was worthy of the title until now that is "blue " i say my voice low

[angel-pages]

:

🍓— unread diary entry #004

hobbies feel like little windows where i get to be myself— no judgment, no rush, just pure presence.

they’re the quiet places i return to when the world feels too loud. whether it’s strumming my guitar, losing myself in a book, or scribbling thoughts on paper— these moments stitch me back together.

sometimes i wonder if hobbies are just a way of saying, “i matter.” that my time, my joy, are worth holding onto, even in the chaos.

and maybe that’s enough. to find a space that’s truly mine.

—

what’s your safe place?

[angel-pages]

unread diary entry #003

glow-ups aren’t just skin deep. they start inside— with kindness you give yourself when no one sees.

feed your mind good things, choose people who lift you, and celebrate the small wins— like getting up when it’s hard.

your glow comes from peace, not perfection.

start gentle. start now.

[angel-pages]

🍓— unread diary entry #002

the air tastes heavier these days, like the sky is holding its breath — choked by the invisible fingers of smoke and waste. i walk through streets wrapped in gray, where the trees look tired, their leaves whispering stories of a time before the poison.

it’s strange how something so vast can make me feel so small, like my own worries fade into the smog, and the earth’s slow ache drowns out my voice.

sometimes i wonder if the world is crying in its own silent way, or if we’re too busy to notice that we’re the ones causing the tears.

pollution isn’t just in the rivers or the air— it’s in the way we forget to care, in the way we close our eyes to the slow unraveling of everything we once loved.

i want to breathe freely again. not just for me— but for the trees, the oceans, the birds, for the quiet parts of the world we haven’t broken yet.

but how do you heal a wound when the knife is still in your hand?

[angel-pages]

There are 7 billion people in the world , right?

And i fall in love and obsess over a man that doesn t even exist !!!!

Kai Azer - Dean Redding -Damon -Claws

[angel-pages]

Her : "is that blood on your shirt , Azer?"

Him: "Be careful darling, you look as if you care "

Powerless by Lauren Roberts

[angel-pages]

“i don’t chase people anymore. i just sit back and watch who really cares. the silence always reveals the truth.”

[angel-pages]

🌙💭 friendship is a strange little thing. you share pieces of your soul, inside jokes, late-night thoughts, and music links. you send them things that remind you of them, hoping they feel it too. you invite them into your favorite corners of the internet, hoping they’ll want to stay — not because they have to, but because you’re there. and sometimes... they don’t come. and that’s okay. but you still kind of wish they did.

🕊️

[angel-pages]

🌟 Shoutout to my incredible friend Ranim! 🌟 She’s honestly the best—kind, loyal, and always there when I need her. No one lifts me up like she does, and her smile can brighten the darkest days. I’m so lucky to have a friend like her who’s not just amazing but truly one of a kind. Ranim, you’re a gem, and I hope you know how much you mean to me! 💖✨

[angel-pages]

ab9i

[angel-pages]

i’m not lazy. i’m just exhausted by existing. by pretending i’m okay. by being expected to answer quickly, smile politely, explain myself gently. by holding in 700 thoughts while replying “i’m fine.” no one tells you how much energy it takes to be the version of yourself that makes everyone else comfortable. i don’t want to be productive. i want to breathe. i want to sit in silence without guilt. i want to stop apologizing for being tired.

🖤 — i’m trying. that should count for something.

[angel-pages]

you have no idea how much love i have inside me. the kind of love that remembers your coffee order. the kind that kisses your scars and doesn’t flinch. the kind that waits for your reply but never rushes you. i don’t play hard to get. i play soft to heal. and if you don’t know what to do with a love like mine— that’s okay. just don’t pretend you do. because i love loudly. and leave quietly. and once i’m gone? you’ll feel it forever. 🖤 — soft doesn’t mean weak

[angel-pages]

i love you. that’s the problem.” “you held me like i was temporary.” “i would’ve stayed. you never asked.”

[angel-pages]

💘 what it means, my confident little dream girl:

You are not a list of flaws. You are a walking poem. Those "insecurities" you carry? They were never flaws—they were flavors, textures, and little stories only you can tell. The world doesn’t need more perfect. It needs real. It needs you. With your “too much”s and your “not enough”s. With your shy smile. With your rizz-filled laugh. With your glow when you say "I love you" in lowercase like it’s a secret.

[angel-pages]

🌙 Dream journal entry

i’ve been romanticizing the way i feel again. like maybe if i write it soft enough, it won’t hurt as much. like maybe if i say “i’m okay” with enough aesthetic, someone will believe me.

but i don’t want anyone to fix me. i just want to be seen. and maybe held.

i’m tired of being the secret place i cry in. i want to be someone’s favorite thought. even just once.

🍓— unread diary entry #001