Ryan

i am eccentric and a good one in that.

[crushed-engineer]

𝑇𝒉𝑒𝑦 𝑘𝑒𝑝𝑡 𝑠𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑒..

𝐹𝑖𝑛𝑒?

𝐹𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝒉𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑜𝑑. 𝑇𝒉𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑤𝑎𝑦.

𝐼 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒'𝑠 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑐𝒉𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒,

𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑡𝒉𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝒉𝑒𝑦 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝒉

[crushed-engineer]

They called it dwelling.

I call it archaeology.

I am brushing dust from buried versions of myself,

recovering what was left behind

when the world mistook silence for healing

and moving on for being whole.

is it wrong to dwell in the past? why do society say, no, order us to 'move on'? what will moving on give? a different ending to the story? that's it?

being eccentric has its flaws, and advantages

being eccentric has no place in society.

Voting ended onJun 3

[crushed-engineer]

Nobody said— I'm sorry that happened to you.

Five words. That's all.

Five words and a moment of stillness, and it would have meant the world.

The world😵. It still would. Even now. Even late. It's never too late to finally say it.

[crushed-engineer]

So the love came with a condition I couldn't meet. And I spent years trying to be less of what I was, so the love could be more of what I needed. It never quite worked. Love with conditions is just a contract.

[crushed-engineer]

They said— time heals everything.

Time doesn't heal. Time just puts distance between you and the wound. Healing is the thing you have to go back and do, in the dark, alone, or if you're lucky— with someone who's willing to sit beside you while you do it.

[crushed-engineer]

She told me— you should be grateful for what you had.

<smiling> "And I am"— I replied. "I'm also allowed to grieve what I didn't. Both things are true. I don't need your permission to hold both."

[crushed-engineer]

She said— you're too much. And I believed her.

For years. I spent so long being less— less loud, less needy, less present— that I almost became nothing at all. One day I realized: I was never too much.

I was just too much for her specifically.

[crushed-engineer]

"Aise kyun roothe ho" — mat pucho ghalib,

Badnaseebi se barso ka rishta hai hamara.

Badnaseeb thay hum jo unhe dil mein basa liya,

Ki badnaseeb hain hum unke jaane ke baad bhi unke tasveer ko dil se laga liya..

Janaab,

Unke tasveer se hum dil laga baithe.

Ki unke tasveer se hum iss tarah dil laga baithe hain,

"Bewafai hui, kab hui?"— sab kuch dhundla-sa lagta hai...

[crushed-engineer]

They said— well, at least it made you stronger.

But my inner child quietly replied— "I was hoping for love, not a life lesson. I needed comfort, not scars. Strength was never the dream. Being safe, was."

[crushed-engineer]

[crushed-engineer]

Dripping core trembles Swollen pearl aches for thy heat

Womb floods—ecstasy

Deepest thrust kisses

Velvet walls clench, breasts heave high

Hot waves gush and blend

Secret place pulses

Warm flood fills my center deep

Passion weeps as one

[crushed-engineer]

Dard Kitna Tha Bata Nahi Sake..

Zakham Kitne Thay Dikha Nahi Sake..

Ye Dil Guhār Lagata Raha Ki Ankhon Se Samajh Sako To Samajh Lo,

Aansu Gire Hai Kitne Gina Nahi Sake..

Kab tak yunhi yaadon ke saaye mein jeete rahen,

Kab tak khud se hi har baat hum kehte rahen…

Tu hi bata de ae khuda, kya likha hai naseeb mein,

Ya usko bhula dein ya phir use apna bana dein…

Oh Rabba Mereya Koi Raasta Dikhaade,

Ya Woh Yaad Hi Na Aawe Ya Yaar Se Milaade…

[crushed-engineer]

the pain is a sculptor, carving you into something you don’t recognize, reshaping bone and breath until even your own reflection hesitates—and you become a shadow that slips away when the light gets too bright, dissolving at the very moment you’re supposed to be seen

[crushed-engineer]

The heart is a traitor that beats for the wrong people.

[crushed-engineer]

hum haste toh hain lekin sirf

dusro ko hasane ke liye,

warna zhakhm to itne hain ki

theek se roya bhi nahi jaata.

andar se toot ke bikharte jaa rahe hain,

aur ye kisi se bataya bhi nahi jaata..

raat ko takiye bheega karte hain,

subah phir wahi nakab pehente hain,

aansoo bhi thamte nahi akele mein,

aur rona bhi pura kiya nahi jaata..

woh ek baar puch le bas, "kaisa hai?",

toh shayad ye dil bhi kuch sambhal jaata,

par woh bhi ab dur hai itna,

ki unka naam bhi ab liya nahi jaata..

khwaab thay apne, raaste thay apne,

phir bhi manzil tak pahuncha nahi jaata,

ab bas ek adhoori si kask hai seene mein,

jo bhara bhi nahi, bhulaya bhi nahi jaata..

[crushed-engineer]

Chaand ko dekhta hoon toh apna hi aks lagta hai, Door bhi, thanda bhi… par sabko roshan karta sa lagta hai.

Woh bhi toh kab ka toot chuka hoga andheron se ladte ladte, Par upar usey dekho toh mukammal sa lagta hai.

Hum bhi waise hi hain — Andar se khaali, bahar se theek, Haqeeqat bhi dhokha hai… aur dhokha hi haqeeqat sa lagta hai.

[crushed-engineer]

Humanity builds walls out of fear and calls it strength, then wonders why we suffocate inside our own cages.

We forget that freedom dies every time empathy does.😞