Nothing yet. More shit experiences and even shittier people.
I wish their families suffer in hell and their houses burnt.
h
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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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Love Begins
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Misplaced Lens Cap
occasionally subtle

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@godsplangodsplan
Nothing yet. More shit experiences and even shittier people.
I wish their families suffer in hell and their houses burnt.
I live my life like a punishment I hope I die soon
I am not capable of suicide
Nothing good is ever going to happen with me
There is nothing to hope for
I hope I die soon
I hope I die soon
23 June
I will only write about all the things that I hate
I will never allow myself to feel better about me cause that's impossible.
If I ever end up assuring myself then I will remind myself that I am a piece of shit and I deserve to die
end
I hope I die soon
I can't keep going anymore
There is nothing for me in this world
and I am not capable of anything
I hope I die in the next two years if my future self is reading this I hope you don't live long cause we have been through enough.
I live only for my cats and no one else
Lets pray for a painless quick death soon
My maternal grandmother believed in numbers that they meant something like words. Something good usually.
Today I look around for the past three weeks. I have been seeing angel numbers.
They all mean the same thing, something good, but it seems useless looking for hope, looking for a sign. When in reality there is peace in giving up.
In knowing that what you did and everything that you have ever done was in vain and useless. People anger me and disgust me.
But there is peace in giving up and letting go.
My mother never told me clearly, but my grandmother dint have a good marriage. It was very bad and she raised her two daughters alone. I guess that's why she was looking for signs and read the future.
My body changed slightly but not a lot.
I crave coke, which is a habit that has changed.
I wish death on idiots, and sometimes on myself.
Will I ever stop?
To my future self, hi from 2025
A completely different person, yet very much the same.
I have changed beaten, battered, defeated, bogged down.
Nothing remains, except that same old thing that I can't let go.
So much to share.
So much lost and nothing gained.
I never wrote believing I am a shit writer.
But I am going to write now, to my future self.
and my past self of three years.
It could just be a word vomit.
There was a line, and we had to wait, the owner before us was in tears as his labrador was on his way to get cremated. I wasn’t even fond of cats before “Vasuli”. She was a part of our family and still is in many ways. I still remember her golden furr lit up against the morning sun,her gently meowing when we called out her name. The moment of realization of her departure for us was when the body was replaced by her ashes. I never thought I would show such affection untill she came to our house. We buried her ashes in my grandmother’s bunglow, and planted the tree under which she sat, to immortalize her forever.
We were a little sad when we left for mysore, since it was our last year and last annual that we were leaving behind, though we couldn’t possibly have thought how much we were going to learn and explore in the coming days.
Mysore is historical, and monumental, and our short tour of the city was filled with awe as we saw the grandeur and wealth of the Wadiyars and their palaces. Intricate details and realistic paintings of their subjects, the silk and the texture of the drapes was still very fresh in the paintings at the palace.
One such sight we also visited was Tipu Sultan’s Summer Palace, which is filled with frescoes.
This wall depicted structures which played with the perspective of the exterior and also showed the interior scenes. It is something that I found really beautiful and though it being asymmetrical, there was a sense of symmetry when you looked at the entire wall.
It is something, that I caught, and it appeared in the final print that I took for the National workshop. Just like how a miniature shows multiple scenes in one image, I tired to show somthing similar in the aquatint and etching print. Scenes of homes, of growth, of breakaways, of conversations, something that is constant in all our lives.
Students from all acorss India were invited. It was new for me to work in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people, but within time, we all became friends and its something that I will always cherish.
This one print that I ruined later and regret it extremely
Its been a year to my vacation in Munnar which was a very peaceful and calming time, along with my family.
The memory of the gently rolling mountains filled with Tea plantations, occasionally hiding behind the monsoon clouds is still fresh, and I long to visit again.
I kept listening to this since it was the finale of the last season of thrones and listening to this theme of jon and dany while looking at this landscape was very serene, as it never poured but always rained gently.
I remember the manager of our hotel telling us that Munnar, is a place with three hills, A church, A mosque and a temple one on each hill.
I remember we had a big showcase in our house, which had delicate objects and also very weird ones, objects that we found to be special or unique, in our own way.
Objects are living memories of an experience or a person. They remind us of a particular period in history and they are passed through generations taking up their little space in the house.
These are such objects that I have grown up with, and that I love fiddling with, be it their texture or feel, or the story behind it.
I think its remarkable how a human memory is the core of any basic object.
The 90s
Back when technology had a physical form, where you could be the part of the process, be it developing film, or simply putting and adjusting your tape recorder or CD.
It has all gone, somewhere we take things for granted now, everything is reproduced for the sake of being reproduced. Nothing has uniqueness.
Follow me Instagram @sapaintsanddraws
#90s
Decorating the house with cyanotypes