he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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todays bird
Game of Thrones Daily
Jules of Nature
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$LAYYYTER
wallacepolsom
ellievsbear
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
RMH
tumblr dot com
⁂
KIROKAZE
hello vonnie
Origami Around
DEAR READER
Stranger Things
noise dept.
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@rameeshafatima
I don't think we know love till we actually come to the precipice of loss. We build walls for fear of falling in love, and then that fear of loss quietly screams out the presence of love-you'd never fear losing something that you didn't love enough. We hide and we fall and we crash and we soar. And none of it would be there without either; love or fear. So is fear another dimension of love itself?
Trying to collide
Priceless interactions
People perfections
We see it all
We slip away
adulthood is like....I’m trying to get back into the concept of having hobbies
Untitled novel I’ll never finish. Chapter 1: Introductions
I’m not good at introductions, although I spend all my time imagining them, rehearsing for all possible scenarios. It’s the same with first pages, first lines, and first words. This is why I’ve never written anything worthwhile-I never get beyond the preliminaries of anything. Even life, it seems.
So here I am, plunging deep into the abyss of my world without trying to offer a reasonable introduction before I start. I would, if I could. I will try this time, I promise.
I always believed our life culminates into a single moment of impact; one single moment that our physical and spiritual imprints become apparent in the universe. The rest is just meaningless noise. They called it white noise in my engineering class-random voices without purpose, amounting to nothing and belonging to nobody of significance.
I can’t remember clearly, but till I was 20, I suppose I thought I knew my purpose. Or perhaps I’d pushed it far away into the corners of my mind, trying not to think too much about it; treating it like that unfortunate verbose book you buy out of the FOMO, but can’t seem to get past its first page because it just doesn’t feel right yet. And so the book sits, rejected-nonetheless-but at the front end of your book shelf, plain in sight, for everyone to see, because the books you love are all dog-eared and crack-ribbed and time-worn but this one is shiny and beautiful and looks good at the front. It felt good to be young, have distractions pouring in, and to pine over and whine over and shine over: lovers, friends, and careers and not necessarily in that order. When the twin decades of my innocence passed without incident, I remember having a quarter-life crisis. (Which is absurd, in and of itself, to think that I have any idea how long this life of mine will be. It could very well be my midlife crisis, or 9 and three quarterly, and I would never know.)
Anyway, so there I was, a fresh-graduate with a college degree sans a job and a husband, like most other millennial youths(?) adults (?) happily unhappily going through my quarter-life crisis when along came that moment and passed me by. And I didn’t even know it was happening, till it was over. And just like that, things had changed. And all I had to show for it was a lion, a witch and my wardrobe.
“Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up.”
— Louise Erdrich
Untitled novel I'll never finish. Chapter 1: Introductions
I'm not good at introductions, although I spend all my time imagining them, rehearsing for all possible scenarios. It's the same with first pages, first lines, and first words. This is why I've never written anything worthwhile-I never get beyond the preliminaries of anything. Even life, it seems.
So here I am, plunging deep into the abyss of my world without trying to offer a reasonable introduction before I start. I would, if I could. I will try this time, I promise.
I always believed our life culminates into a single moment of impact; one single moment that our physical and spiritual imprints become apparent in the universe. The rest is just meaningless noise. They called it white noise in my engineering class-random voices without purpose, amounting to nothing and belonging to nobody of significance.
I can't remember clearly, but till I was 20, I suppose I thought I knew my purpose. Or perhaps I'd pushed it far away into the corners of my mind, trying not to think too much about it; treating it like that unfortunate verbose book you buy out of the FOMO, but can't seem to get past its first page because it just doesn't feel right yet. And so the book sits, rejected-nonetheless-but at the front end of your book shelf, plain in sight, for everyone to see, because the books you love are all dog-eared and crack-ribbed and time-worn but this one is shiny and beautiful and looks good at the front. It felt good to be young, have distractions pouring in, and to pine over and whine over and shine over: lovers, friends, and careers and not necessarily in that order. When the twin decades of my innocence passed without incident, I remember having a quarter-life crisis. (Which is absurd, in and of itself, to think that I have any idea how long this life of mine will be. It could very well be my midlife crisis, or 9 and three quarterly, and I would never know.)
Anyway, so there I was, a fresh-graduate with a college degree sans a job and a husband, like most other millennial youths(?) adults (?) happily unhappily going through my quarter-life crisis when along came that moment and passed me by. And I didn't even know it was happening, till it was over. And just like that, things had changed. And all I had to show for it was a lion, a witch and my wardrobe.
Where there is kindness, there is goodness, where there is goodness, there is magic | Cinderella
🚨This is a Red Alert for net neutrality 🚨
Last December, the FCC voted to to kill net neutrality. If we do not take action, this will kill the free and open internet as we know it. The internet needs you—all of you—to make sure your voices are heard NOW.
We need all hands on deck for this one. It may be our last chance. If you’re feeling under-informed and overwhelmed about why net neutrality is so incredibly important, we have this handy guide just for you.
Here’s what you can do to save the internet:
In mid-May, the Senate will vote on a resolution to overrule the FCC using the Congressional Review Act (CRA). We only need one more vote in the Senate to win. Write or call your Senators or Representatives. You can also text BATTLE to 384-387 to get more information on how to write to your reps. You can do this, Tumblr.
Join us and dozens of your other favorite companies like Etsy, Vimeo, Reddit, and GitHub to raise awareness with the Red Alert campaign being run by Battle for the Net. Just add this small widget to your Tumblr to let your followers know how they can contact their reps. It’s as easy as copying and pasting the small line of code right into the customize theme page on the web.
This is important. This matters. It’s up to you to help.
Some days my mind is all over the place. Everywhere.
When I was 10 I had just learnt how to recycle paper, and decided to go and build a papier mache house. I had made a pretty looking drawing of a wall niche with a vase and flowers, and told my sister we will make a real house for just the two of us in the backyard, complete with a papier mache vase. I made the vase. We saved up our used paper for 2 years in our shared bedroom cabinet, but the house never came to be.
It has been 16 years since then.
I have manuscripts for 10 different novels, rough ideas for a 100 different paintings, 15 different websites and plans for a 1000 different businesses all tangled up in my head.
The next idea is always better.
As I type this, my current business idea rots in the corner of my brain, soon to be forgotten. If I follow up, I would be truly happy for a flash, and then move on to the next idea. Which makes me wonder at the futility of the cycle repeating itself, a loop I am stuck in for my own happiness’ sake. Had I made my papier mache house, I would still be here. It’s the carrot tied at the end of my stick, always a step ahead of me, propelling me forward, keeping the adrenaline pumping. I never sleep when the passion overwhelms me, my real goals bleeding into my heart from my brain. Perhaps what separates real goals from dreams is the intensity, perhaps it is the results, perhaps it is time. Or perhaps it is all just a dream of my dreams being always within my reach. I will never know.
Remnants of fall, last year
Desi ghee chocolate chip cookies
The ingredients
3/4th cup ghee.
2/3 cup regular sugar
1 pinch of salt
2 eggs
1 drop vanilla essence
2 cups flour
1.5 teaspoon baking soda
2 milk chocolate bars (about 250 gms each). Or chocolate chips if you can.
The process
Take off the chocolate wrapper and eat one. Chop the rest into fine, 1 cm cubes. Or even smaller, if you want. Nobody is going to judge.
Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. Throw together all the ingredients, knead to form a giant lump. Form smaller, scoop-sized, round lumps from the giant lump. Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper, and flatten the lumps onto it a little, forming almost-cookie like convex orbs. Leave about an inch, maybe more between each-trust me the lumps shall grow into flat, round, familiar cookie-like shapes when cooked. (Kinda like puberty, but for cookies). (Also, maybe like reverse-puberty, because of the shape. Ha ha)
*cue song "my lovely lady lumps"*
Yeah I'm high on the cookie dough.
Anyway. So you put it in the oven, wait for 15 minutes for really chewy cookies and longer for crumbly yet moist, crunchy yet soft cookies. Don't wait too long to get it to cool down, grab a glass of milk and eat it straight off the sheet. Pure goodness. You're welcome
The house I'd want if I wasn't so afraid of loneliness creeping in
Aries: I will love you where you hate yourself. Taurus: Write me a poem using nothing but your fingertips across my chin, dressing hearts in frames that have painted over crippled clouds. Gemini: I wasn’t lonely until I lost you. Cancer: You ask me how I know it’s love, darling, if my heart broke, I would give you the bigger piece. Leo: He smiles and you know the words will never sound right once you touch paper, but maybe this is the only way I know we’re real. Virgo: To all my demons that want me dead, most days we’re on the same page. Libra: I tell myself this is it, what’s another scar where you used to whisper? If rain cuts another tongue on a color we mixed for honey, would we still be dividing seasons into laughter? Scorpio: You were never here, but I still miss you. Sagittarius: & maybe it’s about knowing what you want, and not being afraid of being remembered by the sun for holding thorns. Capricorn: I’m ok with it not being forever, but it just can’t be never. Aquarius: I’ve been falling into an echo of glass and vibrating morning hues over trees, yet I still feel the shape of your hand every time the wind walks through the door. Pisces: I could spend the rest of my days writing about you, and it still wouldn’t be enough.
(via teacup13)
