"Look at the stars, look how they shine for you"

http://as-spring-came-in-october.tumblr.com

[east-of-nowhere]

“Home is where the trees look normal” is the sweetest, saddest, most nostalgic truth I’ve ever heard.

[two-bees-poetry]

so soft it hurts

[as-spring-came-in-october]

نمائش

I fell in love with my colonizer's language and I hate it.

"Floccinaucinihilipilification" pronounced "flok-suh-naw-suh-nahy-hil-uh-pil-uh-fi-kay-shuhn"

Meaning “the action or habit of estimating something as worthless.”

I learnt this word like bible in 7th grade. Loved the way it rolled off my tongue while hating myself for it because I never learned any hard words in my mother tounge.

It felt shameful to 13 year old me. Learning English meant prestige; it was the language of the world.

My mother tounge was not.

It was demeaning to not know English. Somehow, it became easy to say things in this language I know I could never say in my mother tounge. It was always too vulnerable, too real in my mother tounge.

There's always a voice in my head that questions whether this is right? Whether forgetting my language was worth it? It feels like a disservice to speak this tounge and not remember mine own.

Knowing this, there was also a need to learn this language, the world talks and breathes in English. So it became a norm. To talk and talk in this language yet I feel the metallic taste of blood of my ancestors in my mouth when I converse in this language. The language of my colonizers. Even after 78 years, I feel we are not free.

The word floccinaucinihilipilification in urdu/hindi means بے قدر سمجھنا/बेकदर समझना।

A three syllable word.

[its-ener]

Happy New Year!

May 2026 be kinder to you, may you find peace, may you stay away from red flags (may you not become a red flag).

I hope you have the courage to overcome every hardship that life forces your way.

Hope you get free iced lattes.

May you find love that heals. May you be more tolerable to others and more understanding of your own self.

May you listen to loads of music and may you fulfill your goals and aspirations.

Be silly. Be weird. Be fun. Be crazy. Be YOU. Be happy. Be kind.

-With love and hope.

[as-spring-came-in-october]

Word Vomit

Fuzzy autorickshaws from my balcony,

A wave of melancholy,

Oh wait, that just rhymed?

Was it supposed to?

I don't know.

Maybe?

Maybe it was all destined to take place?

Six days and no conversation, are you dead?

Like my dog was?

Buried in the backyard?

Or was that my brother?

I often get it wrong.

I usually am wrong, actually, with people and dinner recipes, but that's fine, I'll learn.

Maybe after 6 to 7 tries with the wrong person at the right time.

Oh, I'm getting late, I have a meeting the next morning.

I'm bad with excuses.

I don't get to lie often, I end up speaking the truth.

Like, I always liked you.

Asking you out to dinner was just an excuse. But you never figured it out.

Or perhaps you did, which makes it worse.

Did I cook all my eggs for the omelette?

And left nothing for the basket?

There's a saying like that?

Isn't there?

Oh wait, the rickshaw horns, my date's here.

We need to go to a relative's funeral. He had a farm.

I still have time, I guess I'll pick up an egg sandwich on the way.

-By @its-ener

[its-ener]

Soooooo, can I get this guy to like me just for a confidence boost?

[lunamonchtuna]

to be seen without performing. to be heard without screaming. to be missed without disappearing. to be enough without proving it. to be held without falling apart. to be understood without explaining. to be wanted without conditions. to be. to be.

[its-ener]

forever the girl who messes it all up

[its-ener]

The notion of love is so minutely underlined by such unsuperstitious superstitions it almost makes you believe how childlike it is.

Childlike, not in the sense of being immature but childlish like that little kid who looks at the moon every night, trying to outrun it. "Look the moon follows me, papa", he says, with moonlike glimmer in his eyes.

Young, innocent, pure, gullible love.

Oblivion oblierates with the intention of looking for your and their birth months on cat pictures.

Hope summersaults in your stomach when you find the perfect song lyrics.

Dumbness develops as you like reels just because their profile floats someone on screen.

And love strengthens as you scribble your intitials at the back of the register, destroying the pages thereafter.

I often come across monuments that have initials enclosed in hearts and that agitates me. But now that I think about it, love gives you the courage to be stupid, to be unfazed of any embarrassment, to be cringe enough to destroy a public property that's outlasted the cruelties of time.

It makes you dream that your feelings could too stay immortal.

[as-spring-came-in-october]

In the Land Of Dreams

There's a land in my dreams where you are still alive. You still talk to me, I hug you to sleep. But the dream ends and I am forced to hear Truth. Truth is unkind you know? It is just, fair. Hope and truth in my eyes are at war you see. Whoever made Truth right, must have been blind

In the land of those who hope, the sky is pink. The fields are filled. The scene is euphoric. Every one is happy. But it is a land of dreams and dreams often end surprisingly. You came in my dream last night. A phantom touch and you were gone. The night is kind to dreamers.

You won't be here tomorrow morning I know. You are my dream. I wish you were not. Fate is a cruel mistress. Beyond the pink skies and crimson rivers, I meet you every night in my land of dreams and I hope wherever you are you can dream too.

By @theloudestwomanyoulleversee

Pic credit- @its-ener

[its-ener]

And like all other days, the stars were shining, he couldn't see them, they hid from him in utter smog, but he knows they exist.

A year has passed, the pain lingers on like a splinter in his fingers. He doesn't bleed like he did back then. Before he knew, red drops had solidified, like rocks on his skin, he got accustomed to the way they felt on his body.

Days pass, the weight unweighs itself, he misses it. It hurt, yes, but it was a familiar feeling holding onto him and today, he stands naked to the thought of starting anew.

He looks at the very shelf that contained the only testament left of the essence that what he felt was all real. It's empty now.

His feelings, were they ever valid? How will he now prove to himself that he wasn't just living in a trance but, even if it were for a split second, it all happened.

It's his words against his feelings and his feelings against his own words and he crumbles underneath.

Atlas on his shoulders and he screams into the sky, only to shiver in the reverberations.

He glances at the tabletop, the same yellow lamp that's been lighting his room since the past two years. He looks into the mirror, the same face he's used to since 20 years and nothing feels the same.

His eyes turn red and dust settles on the shelf.

[petaltexturedskies]

Sylvia Plath, in a diary entry dated 15 May 1952 from The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

[finehoney]

im so ready to be in a relationship so whenever the universe is ready hmu with a keeper

[finehoney]

i posted this yesterday then today this cute boy held my hand and now he is sending me memes

[librarydvd]

Reblog for love

[maobeedong]

i reblogged this yesterday and my crush kissed me today

[its-ener]

@theloudestwomanyoulleversee

[as-spring-came-in-october]

Love poison

Love's supposed to be simple,

But it's love,

Complicating, suffocating, frustrating,

It can't fill your stomach,

But it fills you up,

It's like, you start hating the rain because of someone

It makes you weak but also strong.

It's the most stupid thing but also the most important thing we need to survive.

It's like sword to our throats and air to our lungs,

It's days of lying on the bed, in the same clothes, the pile of laundry stinking through

It's like staying up late to be the last person that says "good night"

It's crying, it's laughing, it's breathing underwater,

it's your soul feeling lighter

It's your soul leaving your body,

It's pain through the veins,

It's knees weak, you're tumbling down,

It's standing up and dancing around.

It's smile, it's hysteria,

It's despair, it's abandonment,

It's hope, it's hope lost.

It's "I love you"

It's "and it'll pass"

It's like knowing you're missing a limb

A phantom touch in the dark

A whispered curse of the damned.

But it's like the sun's first ray

Bright morning light

A mother's hug on a sick day

A lover's kiss,

A singer's muse,

A villain's revenge,

Nurtured, nursed, a forest fire

A baby's first step

Your parents' last breath

It's like walking in rain

Knowing you'll get sick

But it's love

They used to cross bridges once

It's a cursed whisper

But it was once a whispered prayer

A contradiction in itself

Love is simple,

It's simply complicated.

~

@its-ener and @theloudestwomanyoulleversee

[its-ener]

Do you know what...

I came across this daylist a couple minutes back and none of these songs actually belong to me.

Like obviously they don't! But what I mean to say is that, the second song in the playlist, I heard that because there's this guy, he asked me to.

The third song, i found in the blend of this friend of mine after we'd had to end things who in turn heard this song for the first time when he broke up with his ex.

The third song, is also attached to the first guy I mentioned, in one way or the other intertwined with his past relationships...

The fourth song, is a song that I closely associate all my emotional vulnerability with and I recommend my close people to listen to...

So yeah, I don't know why I'm writing this but thanks Spotify!

[its-ener]

You know what... I was scrolling through the posts on my fyp, and I came across those "if you're an October born, this is your comfort thingy" kinda post... And now they are not actually accurate or anything but my friend's like on it popped as a tiny bubble in the corner, so I scrolled to her birthday month and her comfort was chocolates... SHE LOVES CHOCOLATES...

So, what I mean to say is, I'm sure there would have been a level of happiness she might have felt, having related to something... And I know it's not that big of a deal for me to write such a huge sh!t on my story, but I find it so cute.

To know how someone in my mutual loves to hear their crush yap, how they would want to be loved in a certain way and to have this sense of connection that the person 'x' and I would like to be seen in a certain term of the way...

For me its cute enough to be romanticised.

So yeah, that's all

With love and hope.

[as-spring-came-in-october]

Fogbound

The fog grips onto the night

The cold seeps into the fabric of the air, as the dark approaches its funeral.

The tree, that I sometimes sneak at from my window, gently hugs his wife as she lies exposed to the cruel cold.

The tiny street dog stares at them, blushes, and makes his way back into the alley.

The road is deserted, every now and then, there's a bike in acceleration, but it's breath is lost in fog, what reaches me is an ever subtle sigh.

The dying fire smirks as it finally extinguishes, crushed under the weight of the never ending dewdrops. He knows he did his best to keep the old watchman warm.

Abandoned fragments of hailstones roll through the sides of the drains.

The two parked cars, guarding the neighbors' house, look at each other in complete annoyance. Their armour turns too cold for this bitter night.

I stare at a faded yellow light emerging from what seems like the threshold of heaven, but it's just fairy lights wrapped around the tree, catching a glimpse of me as I watch him.

~By @its-ener