kanz

high on emotions

[shazi-1]

ہر شخص نہیں ہوتا ہر شخص کے قابل

ہر شخص کو اپنے لیے سوچا نہیں کرتے

[sa-dnesss]

[remanence-of-love]

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[toxic-stella]

confused as hell. waiii o waiiii

[thebookquotes]

I wish that photographs were physical spaces, like tunnels; that you could crawl inside them and go back.

— Lauren Oliver, Vanishing Girls

[toxic-stella]

oh how i wish i could crush the haunting thoughts in me, the burning feelings in me. oh how i wish i could stand for myself and not give up on myself. rebel against my inner demons. fight against myself for myself. myself against myself. oh how i wish i could

KANZ - its dark here // excerpt from a story i ll never write 

[qvotable]

Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I’m not living.

Jonathan Safran Foer // Extremely Loud and Incredibly

ahhhhhhh  this made me drown deeper in sadness 

[makeuphall]

[minuty]

“Just because you don’t say much doesn’t mean people don’t notice you. It’s actually the quiet ones who often draw the most attention. There’s this constant whirlwind of motion and sound all around, and then there’s the quiet one, the eye of the storm.”

—

[4am-reflections]

you should have loved her when you had the chance, it’s as simple as that. she is like the sunrise, something pure and good with only the best intentions, the promise of a new beginning. people like that don’t come around often and yet you had the audacity to use her for your own gain. to you she was a good time, a person you’d go to when there was nothing else to do, a convenience nothing more. so don’t you walk around spilling words of how terrible she was to leave you, when you’re the only one to blame.

4am

[toxic-stella]

here in my heart, your memories beat per second / here in my mind, your thoughts brew per impulse

©KANZ

[toxic-stella]

And when i looked at him and his eyes bore into mine, i lost track of the time and forgot where i was. When the momentary relapse happened and i looked at him again, only to find him looking at me too, time seemed to stop. As if i was stuck in the midst of the road invisible to the people but truly aware of the particular eye-lock.  And when the  sudden horn blow made me jolt and i came back to reality, i looked at my watch, only to find that the time actually had stopped - the reason being the watch stopped working and the needles froze where they were, indicating my metaphorical time-stop moment. The next instant i found myself searching for the eye-lock boy in the crowds, only to realize that he was long gone and so had my *time stopped, mind numbed, butterflies erupted* moment. 

So what happened next? i moved on with my hopes dead. But luckily found myself a seat in the bus beside the window, hoping for the eye-lock boy to reappear by my window, waving at me and following me to my home that are my daydreams. I drifted off to sleep eventually, getting lost in my dreams and to much wonder missing my station too.

©KANZ

//Something about that eye-lock//

(the stories I ll never write)

***********************

follow on wattpad: toxicstella

[spaceeblack]

[spaceeblack]

[quotes2799]

I don't trust nobody, not my lovers not my friends

I don't make no promises 'cause I know just how they'll end

I don't trust nobody, I don't need nobody else

And as messed up as it sounds, I don't even trust myself

Lil wayne- Trust Nobody

[minuty]

[toxic-stella]

actual real fucking your kind of pretty

[bloomingbabespilledink]

Spilled Ink 9-18-19

My heart’s the loudest thing about me.

When I was a teenager, I felt everything so deeply all the time. My aches were bone-deep, my joy lit a new sun, I could breathe out a new life, a new heart every minute. Happiness was a golden sunburst, nothing soft or candle-flame about it. Despair was slate gray-blue and so cold, ice-in-hand burning cold, and I could feel the echoes of what I’d lost in the hollow caverns that were my veins.

I don’t think I’m muted now, my body a pastel shock-absorber, but I keep my gilded frame safely draped under a sheet so that the dust can’t collect on my intricacies. Maybe it’s unfair that the painting isn’t as easily viewed for the public eye, but it’s for the safety of my fragile glass heart that I wait to unveil a masterpiece until I’m certain of the shapes and colors. A teenager with abstract emotions and a splatter-paint soul found herself bleeding too often to remain so open. Her vulnerabilities are only a mirage; she doesn’t let you see what actually hurts. The only ones who see it for what it truly is (see her for who she truly is) dissipate like mist in sunlight, throwing prisms before they evaporate into nothing, the signs of the times turned to isoprene, only visible at a distance.

[toxic-stella]

it's in words. it is. and oh so beautifully told

[art-has-died]

loneliness is like a sore throat. scratching in the silence, burning at each word, carving itself in your screams. so you try to be surrounded by others at all times, you don’t allow yourself to be alone. but all scarves end up choking you. you’ve never hurt as much as when their hands softly carress your neck, because they’re touching you, fingers deep in the wound.