[thisloudhopelessness]

i do not like morning conversations. i do not like conversations while travelling. i like my solitude, my need to look out of the window and observe things. inanimate. animate. i like to think while my earphones are on. i like to open my book. read. then close it. then ponder. i do not like interactions at hours which are odd to me. my mind refuses to listen. and i am not obliged to listen. to anything. to anyone.

it is not self-centrism. i just have no energy for humans.

[lovealtars]

illustrations by skip liepke for wuthering heights

[thisloudhopelessness]

dil nā-umīd to nahīñ nākām hī to hai

lambī hai ġham kī shaam magar shaam hī to hai

~ Faiz Ahmad Faiz

[weltenwellen]

Adonis, tr. by Khaled Mattawa, Selected Poems

[thisloudhopelessness]

“Hum aurat usi ko samjhtay hain jo hamaray ghar ki ho, baaqi hamaray liye koi aurat nahi hoti, bas gosht ki dukaan hoti hai aur ham uss dukaan kay bahar kharay kutton ki tarha hotay hain jin ki hawas zada nazar hamesha gosht par tiki rehti hai”

—Saadat Hasan Manto

[raen1-deactivated20240910]

but i want to be the hottest person at the bookstore

[yourhandwrittenletter]

“You’re going to need a person in your life who makes you smile even when you’re mad. Who knows your heart like the back of her hand and calls you out on your bullshit. Who says, “screw him,” and “I love you,” and, “you got this,” and really means it. Late nights of long phone calls and laughing until your ribs hurt. You need a person who sees you for what you can be, what you will be, and never lets you be any less. A weirdo, preferably. Who yells your name across street just to embarrass you. Who holds you when he breaks your heart and keeps you strong when he comes crawling back. Who tells the truth when she talks about life and makes you feel a little less alone. A person who is beyond words, beyond thanks, beyond what you could have asked for. Find this person. Trust me. You’re going to need her.”

— a thank you to my best friend, who is all of this and more

[thisloudhopelessness]

हाँ ठीक है मैं अपनी अना का मरीज़ हूँ आख़िर मेरे मिज़ाज में क्यूँ दख़्ल दे कोई

~जौन एलिया

[restless-arts]

my brother wanted me to paint That Scene from the batman.

[imjacksbrokenheart]

Andrew Garfield on losing his mother, The Believer

[thisloudhopelessness]

“if you look deeper into your self, deeper and deeper, you will see layers of blue until it gets dark and black and you dive with no protection, no shield over your heart and the emotional pressure is too much that it will break you but still you will see a glowing speck of light like that from a keyhole and you will wonder if that’s hope.”

~ inspired from a tumblr post to a conversation with a friend

[thisloudhopelessness]

How we ache to be noticed, remembered, touched, claimed. How we ache to be the cause of the madness of a lovestruck bystander. How we want to be admired, how we want to be the shiniest shell among other shells and be chosen by a seafarer. So when he goes back to his hometown, we are made to be the pendant of a golden chain he gifts his lover. Even the moment on the beach when he noticed me was enough, it was so enough that I let, I gave him the whole freedom to make me as insignificant as I was before. He left me insignificant, nothing, unnoticeable, a part of the pile but with a transient gifted moment of recognition when he chose me a while ago , amongst all.

To live a life of unworthiness, insignificance, Oh God, why wouldn’t you just steal my breath away instead?

~ yours truly:), unnoticeable

[thisloudhopelessness]

Beauty is an enormous, unmerited gift given randomly, stupidly.

~Khaled Hosseini, And The Mountains Echoed

[thisloudhopelessness]

Because in touch, there births a personal language. It is too loud and it echoes and if this echo isn’t the desire to touch then I do not know what it is. In conversations, a longing is quenched. Touch is a language, too personal. So when you hold her, her skin will speak and yours will respond. ~yours truly

[villette1853]

soft in the middle, shelby eileen // 14 lines from love letters or suicide notes, david “doc” luben

[salamispots]

Pearls don’t actually come from oysters they come from sad mermaids

[thisloudhopelessness]

“To wrap you in myself, to celebrate your smiles and taunts, to keep you in my head for longer than ever, to hide my love for you, push it behind few strands of my hair, pin it, keep it with me , waiting to be undone by you someday, to release myself, to relive you in space and touch.” ~yours truly