niz's writeblr.

desi academia | 24 | she/her | med student | ig: darkpoetvibe

[tahniatspen]

soft love. kind love. ‘we’ll figure it out’ love.

[tahniatspen]

your inner monologue matters

kindness towards self/ what your mind makes you believe/ anecdotes from clinical postings

[remanence-of-love]

[tahniatspen]

‘jawani mein hum bhi yeh sab khoob kiya karte the’ but it’s just my heart being torn over and over again

[tahniatspen]

there’s no outlet for me. i j have to sit with my yearning and deal with it. nobody is coming to save me.

[pochekibaalti-deactivated202512]

i don't even understand what is it that allows me to continue hour long perfect conversations with individual personalities and shuts me down the second im placed in a group consisting of the same people I had individual interactions with

[tahniatspen]

but i wouldn’t say that to a soul how deeply scarred i feel. i wouldn’t mention it the first time and definitely not the second time we meet either. third time I’ve already convinced you of my sanity. but im tired and thirsty. i need god or a prayer i need to feel your love against my lips. i need an end.

[tahniatspen]

ew, who asked

[tahniatspen]

i have come to a realisation that i can’t save my mother from her destiny. what’s to happen will happen. maybe, she is holding a mirror to me. maybe i turn out to be like her. i cannot save her from my father anymore.

[tahniatspen]

staring at an old painting in a museum is like, ‘shit there was love before me and there will be love after me’. it is cathartic, ancient history. tales of wars lost, broken hearts, summer of ‘87. nobody sits down to listen to a good story from the past anymore. maybe that’ll be our story to tell. the story of lost ears.

[tahniatspen]

you might not want to see it but it’s true. everyone sees your efforts, they notice how hard you have been working on yourself. you want to turn a blind eye on your own goodness. you want to keep pushing yourself down. but everyone else sees it. how good you really are.

[tahniatspen]

Nolan carter, rising plastic surgeon from uptown New York, introverted, disciplined, doesn’t know the first thing to say at a party.

Mabel Huxley, artist, interior designer from the heart of London. Grew up with 3 older brothers and a vegetable garden. Seriously, that’s their personality. Being able to grow beets in their backyard. Upcoming socialite, a total gossip, knows the London society like the back of her hand.

What happens when Nolan hires our jilted bride to decorate his new multimillion dollar condo in the states? Perhaps, learn a thing or two about asking a girl out? Or she learns what it’s like to not be the smartest girl in the room anymore?

Read more to find out.

Updates every Tuesday. Ongoing short novel. Perfect for fans of The Hating Game, Bridgerton, The Spanish Wedding.

[tahniatspen]

god I love writing. but i don’t want to write about my pain any more. i have learned how to laugh; i have learned how to smile back in these three years. maybe ill learn how to write about it too.

[tahniatspen]

oh god the anguish of a broken home. the soft prayer between tight lips and suppressed tears. the monster it makes out of a very young child.

[tahniatspen]

god it’s so tiring to have an angry parent. to have them define you for the rest of your life. it fills you with anguish. make you want to hurt everyone the way you are hurt. it binds around your throat and stares at you at night. angry fathers make you believe you’ll never be loved by a man. angry fathers are hell on earth.

[website-com]

you never know what someone is going through. for instance i didnt know i was going through anything until about 2 years later. i thought i was just chilling

[tahniatspen]

I’m going to wear a saree one day, walk through a door and look him right in the eye as a challenge to come take what’s his