gayatri

existential crisis and 24/7 crippling anxiety, THATS me core :)

[archivedrage]

Astrology is all fun and “this is how your zodiac express love” until one day you decode the karmic blueprint between you and the guy you couldn’t move on from for the past nine -fucking- years and now you have to work on yourself again while that guy is out there enjoying with his long term girlfriend! (who, by the way, is also his karmic)

[archivedrage]

I silently noticed your arm around her waist and thought—ah… it must be nice to be pretty.

I silently noticed how your eyes sparkled when you talk about her and thought— ah.. what a privilege to be loved by you.

I silently noticed how you sighed when you told me maybe she doesn’t love you like you love her and thought— ah… the classic human trait, taking it for granted.

I silently noticed how proud you were when you called her your girlfriend and thought— ahh…

[archivedrage]

It’s been more than a year since I’ve stopped viewing his Instagram stories and I would like to extend my gratitude to the one who kept me motivated to not break my streak— he himself.

Because he blocked me from his stories.

[archivedrage]

My besties asked me to draw a doodle of a flower. She lives far away, in another continent and I thought maybe she misses us all, her family and friends, and wants to that wallpaper thing— where you combine all the flower doodles of your loved ones and call it a garden. I drew it, a yellow sunflower. Whenever some asks me what my favourite flower is I cannot answer but I guess sunflower has always been the answer? But I also like tulips and lilies and I love the fragrance of plumerias. So the answer was never simple.

But yesterday she video called me and showed me her very first tattoo. A photo frame with flower doodled by her parents, brother and me. ME. I was with there. With her family. I’m there permanently! And I cried. Of course I cried because even I’m not sure about myself but she is!

It made me realise two things.

First, that those who love you will show it to you. You won’t have to extend yourself. You won’t be too much or not enough. You’ll be perfect because they find you perfect.

And second, now sunflower is my favourite flower.

[archivedrage]

In a moment of weakness I dialled his number. It’s not like I haven’t had lower moments in life before but this time I was afraid, afraid of something I can’t describe. Afraid of something bigger than our egos. Afraid of dying without ever hearing his voice. I don’t have his number saved from a long time ago. But my fingers danced when I typed his number from my memory. I hit dial, it rang. I realised the time and it was late. As soon as I was about to hang up, he picked up. We have been like this, always.

“Hello” It is him.

“Hey”

“Who’s this?” He doesn’t have my number.

“It’s me”

“Who’s this?” He doesn’t even remember my voice.

He doesn’t even remember my voice. He doesn’t even remember me. Remember me, please remember me. Remember me?

[archivedrage]

Tell me how can I take your sorrows and drown myself in it instead. Tell me how can I make it a little easier for you, so maybe you can think of smiling again one day. Tell me what part of my soul you need in order to feel alive again, so I can start ripping my skin apart and break my bones reach for that part of the soul and ultimately hand you all of mine. Tell me shattering my heart again would make you feel good so I can finally gather all the pieces and mend my heart and hand it to you just so you can shatter it and feel whole again. Tell me you need my blood to quench your thirst and I’ll bleed forever. Tell me.. just tell me what can I do for you and I will do it for you.

[archivedrage]

(not so) happy heather day.

[mournfulroses]

Nikita Gill, from Fierce Fairytales Poems & Stories to Stir Your Soul; "The Stepmother's Tale,"

[archivedrage]

His eyes, a shade of brown and when sunlight glisten over it, it was as if all the purity in the world was dipped in honey. And his hand, they were just big enough to cup my face in them. He played cricket a lot so they were rough but gentle. I never held his hand maybe because I had known that if I held onto them, I would never be able to let go. Maybe I should have held his hand then at least he would still be here.

[archivedrage]

Found old drafts of a web novel I was trying to write years ago and now I wanna cry because why is it so cringe T-T

[archivedrage]

Hi 👋, My name is Mohammad, and I’m reaching out in a moment of desperate need. I’m a father of three young children living in Gaza, and we are caught in the midst of a catastrophic war. Our home is no longer a safe haven, and the future here seems increasingly uncertain. 💔

I’ve launched a fundraising campaign with the goal of raising $40,000 to relocate my family to a safer place where my children can grow up in peace and have a chance at a brighter future.

Unfortunately, my previous fundraising efforts were abruptly halted when my account was terminated without explanation. However, I remain determined to keep fighting for my family’s safety and well-being. 🫶

If you could take a moment to read our story, consider donating, or simply share our campaign with others, it would make an incredible difference. Every act of kindness, no matter how small, brings us one step closer to safety and a new beginning. 🙏

Thank you for your time, compassion, and support. ❤️‍🩹

https://gofund.me/fd1faea2 🔗

Find the link :)

[archivedrage]

I met a scholar. His subject was science, physics to be precise. While trying to unravel the secrets of the universe he discovered that spirituality could also lead him to the answers he was seeking. He talked to me because my observance piqued his interest. He said I was special because I saw things which most people fail to acknowledge the existence of. The things which were invisible to most people, he said I took interest in those things. Being called special wasn’t special for me at all. Besides having an eccentric personality people like to call me special because I use a wheelchair. There isn’t anything special about using a wheelchair but I always assumed that it was a polite way of saying that I’m different than most humans beings. The scholar asked me what motivated me and I had no answer. He saw my hesitation and smiled at me. He said our motivation determines where we will end up. But there was another factor that determines what we will get in the end. He said “knowing that you are the best and deserve the best, you WILL receive the best.” I contemplated his words for a second and asked how would you tell if it’s me saying I’m best or my ego? He smiled again and said “a very fine line determines that. Thinking that you’re best and not respecting others - that’s ego. But KNOWING you’re best and respecting others - that’s, that’s what will give you power. Over yourself and over situation.” I nodded as I consumed his words, processing them when he suddenly asked “who do you love the most?” And I looked at him wide eyed. The name that popped in my head, I should not even be remembering that name. I took two or three shallow breaths, trying to calm myself and trying to make a sentence and I finally said “my family”. He again smiled and I thought I was caught. I’m always bad at hiding my expression and anyone with experience in life could tell I was having a hard time managing my emotions. I again said “my family. My loved ones.” He said no and I widened my eyes. To which he replied “You. The person who you love the most should be you.” And I froze there flabbergasted. Because I had 4 realisations.

1. I love you. Still. And I don’t know when I’ll stop. I lie to myself everyday that I’ve stopped but everyday, even I fail at believing the lie that I want others to believe in.

2. Maybe I will look for you in a room filled with everyone I love. Even my family. Because I see my family everyday, talk to them, laugh with them. But you, I haven’t seen you in years.

3. I love you more than I will ever love myself. Maybe that is the reason why I’m still hurting myself in order to love you.

4. That this is not fair. Someone loving you so hard that even after years of seeing you, the first same that popped in the head, in split of a second was yours. That isn’t fair. Because you have this life where I’m not invited. You have these people and I’m not one of them.

I cried the next day of meeting the scholar. I cried and then I realised that to bring justice I’d have to stop loving you. I’m happy that you’ve found someone. I’m happy that you’re happy. That is the reason why I made my exit from your life because you have everyone you’ll ever need and I thought I was over you but that isn’t the case. And it is just not fair. And to bring balance back in the universe, in the singularity that is time, I’ll stop. I’ll stop loving you.

[archivedrage]

My soul cries in heartache whenever I hear Anuv Jain singing

//aisa ho kyun ki lagta hai haasil sabhi hai jo tum mere ho//

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

– K

[archivedrage]

I don’t keep a dream journal. But lately I’ve been thinking of keeping one because even if we meet on an ink stained tear soaked paper that is still better than not having you in any form.

I don’t know if we will ever meet again but in my dreams even fate cannot intervene.

[archivedrage]

The 24/7 near your (former) house has shut down. I cross it everyday on my way to work. Sometimes I smile at it and sometimes I try to ignore its existence because it reminds me of you. I never went inside the supermarket like I never saw your house. That store was a landmark. You said on the phone “come to 24/7 and then call me. I live right across the street from it, I’ll come in 2 mins”. I did exactly as you said. I waited with my hair loose. The wind was strong that day. It was summer. I was there to hand over you the chemistry notes that’ll help you in your up coming test. I was waiting there with notes in my hand and hair covering my face and suddenly you appeared out of nowhere. You looked tired. I could tell just by the look of your face that you were tired from all the studying. I thought we should go inside the 24/7 I could buy you coffee. Your favourite cappuccino not americano, I know you prefer that when you’re stressed but I wanted you to have your favourite cappuccino with me and just forget about all the stress while you finish your drink, even if it is hardly 10 minutes. But you were so in your head that I couldn’t ask you to go inside and have cappuccino. You took the notes and you disappeared as quickly as you appeared. I never saw your home or the inside of that store. But something was oddly comforting about that store. Maybe it was the fact that something will always be there 24 hours a day and 7 days a week (hence the name) whenever you need it. But it’s gone, just like you are.

[archivedrage]

It’s 2:23 AM and I have so much to say that I think of actually starting a podcast. But that plan have many obstacles.

1. I don’t know how to start a podcast.

Like who would listen to a 23 year old who has zero idea what to do in life, who’s thoughts are so unorganised that she can be thinking what ice cream flavour to get and suddenly three stops later in her train of thoughts she finds herself as someone who is so useless that she is unworthy of ice cream. Someone who is lost in every possible aspect of life.

2. I’m not great with technology.

My laptop’s storage has been full for over a year now and all I do is close the notification tab. That’s how much horrible I am with technology.

3. I don’t have anyone I can talk to.

I mean who would even come on a show no body’s watching and I don’t know (or have) anyone who will come. Like how am I supposed to start THE EPISODE 1???

4. I don’t think I’m smart enough to start a podcast.

Jack of all and master of none. LITERALLY NONE. There is just so much I don’t know and there is so much I haven’t read. I know that I’m not smart enough to start a podcast that can create an impact and I know I’m not fun enough to start a podcast that’s something you can play when you can’t find anything to watch. I know I have a lot to say but I’m not sure I have the right words for it. Maybe that’s why I don’t talk to people much because I cannot seem to find the right words.

5. All of this motivation vanishes in the morning.

Every night I find myself with so much to say and no one to hear that I just want to start a freaking podcast (maybe that’s the reason I’m typing all this post. I honestly don’t know if I’ll post this. I’m weird like that. I write and write and write just to archive it in the end). But that’s the thing. Every night I get this small but strong breeze of motivation that makes me want to bring a change, maybe in my life or maybe in the world. But again every morning I wake up with the same thought that why isn’t this life over yet. And I’m very well aware that it’s a thought I should NOT be having so I feel guilty about it and then before I could do anything the day is over.

I don’t know if I’ll ever start a podcast or if I’ll ever find a way to start it. But for now I would like to start waking up not think about death but rather feeling grateful for this life.

[mescalinecowboy]

i wasn’t built for human connection im supposed to die alone in my room.

[archivedrage]

✨HAPPY NEW YEAR✨

Another decade passed and another started!

This is my ‘Goals Spread’ this year and it is 100% inspired by the great @amandarachlee I just blend it in with my theme!

I never really did an year-end-journaling but for 2019 I did and I asked myself some questions and now I feel so alive! Like I understand myself much more.

In the second slide you’ll find the questions. These questions were posted by @pranitart on Instagram. Definitely give these questions a try it’s not that late! ;)