maniacsincebirth

[maniacsincebirth]

[maniacsincebirth]

They say write down your thoughts, it helps ease the mind. And so I begin writing. Here’s to the countless loss that could have been oh so easily avoided only if the circumstances weren’t so damn precise in cutting deep. To the what-ifs that echo louder than facts, to the timing that arrived just a second too late — or maybe right on time to ruin everything. I trace the outlines of memories that still flinch when touched, replaying moments that never got their closure; or even the moments that never existed. The ones that I made to fill their answers to my questions bcoz they never will. The moments sit quietly between the lines, heavy, uninvited, but persistent. And yet, I write. Not to remember, not to forget, but to survive the middle.

They say write down your thoughts, it helps numb the pain, and so I continue writing. Time was supposed to heal the wounds, but it hasn’t been kind enough to me, the wounds were supposed to leave a scar —I was aware, I expected no less. The scar wasn’t supposed to hurt more than the wound itself. In some life I would take some time off and spend that time healing the supposed wounds but if we’re being honest in this very moment, then let’s not disagree on the fact that I look so pretty bleeding.

They say write down your thoughts, it helps silence the noise. And so I attach the pen to my hand, but what if the noise is not shouting and screaming and sliding things off the table, and cracking glasses on the floor? What if it’s a constant high pitched screech coming from a distance. A distance close enough to be seen by the naked eye but far enough to stay out of your reach? What if the noise is polite (and yet not), composed, and relentless — like the hum of a lightbulb before it bursts? What if it’s not a scream, but a presence — the kind that settles into your spine and watches you from behind your eyes? Tell me, how do you silence that? Clocks can spin themselves into dust and yet my feet stay rooted where I last heard their laughter.

They say write down your thoughts, it helps connect the dots, and so now the ink flows in my blood— but what if all my dots just spell “I don’t belong here”? Every room I have walked into has always seemed fulfilled. Every contribution wasted. Every word unheard. Every action unseen. Every discomfort unnoticed. Every room I have walked into, grief was already there, waiting for me. Every night at zero two zero zero hours, my body catches fire. If I make it through the night, I live; if I don’t, yet to find out. But I will live, since the other isn’t an option. I will live, watch some grow and to outlive a few others. However if I don’t, they won’t be able to say “there were no signs”; after-all there is only so much hurt a man can take. A warm 20th to the child above and apologies for not being able to give you the teen years I promised you, but don’t you dare cry about it, you had it better than most. A lot, the life has taught you and lot more is yet to come. Grip up souljaboy. Tough world, get a helmet. The fallen has only ever been eaten by the vultures, never rescued by the angels. You have a habit of picking at your scabs, I wonder when will that stop. And you. If you read this pretend you didn’t. I will pretend I never wrote this in the first place. They say write down your thoughts, it helps the heart breathe. And so I write, I write, and I write till every bone in my finger shatters.

[maniacsincebirth]

heart??? mine is a blaze, it's fire

please, don't come too close to me

i may kill you, i kill people

they die because of me

if misery had another name, it would have been me

i'll make you suffer, then i'll laugh, then i'll cry /////

AND THEN??? then, I'LL LEAVE

[maniacsincebirth]

“BEING HUMAN ISN’T ABOUT SURVIVING WAR OR HEARTBREAK, BUT ABOUT SURVIVING TUESDAY AFTERNOON WHERE NO ONE NOTICED YOU LEFT THE ROOM, AND THE ACHE THAT FOLLOWS YOU INTO DECADES.”

At 2:43 a.m - I turn the lamp off. Not to sleep, but to disassemble myself. I lie still, like a witness, and begin the nightly procession of shame. I remember the day in seventh grade when the people I called friends pulled the chair away just as I was about to sit. I fell, hard, in front of the entire class. Everyone laughed. I forced a laugh too, because I didn’t know how else to survive the humiliation. But it stayed inside me like a bruise I kept pressing. I remember the way I said “thank you” too many times in that office interview when I didn’t get the job anyway. And how I still whisper “sorry” at least thrice every time my shoulder brushes someone else’s on the train, elevator, cafés, as if my very presence is intrusive, like I’ve interrupted the world simply by existing. These aren’t disasters. They’re minor, ordinary humiliations no one else would recall. But they sit inside me like relics, polished over time. And I’ve started to think that being human isn’t about surviving war or heartbreak, but about surviving Tuesday afternoons where no one noticed you left the room, and the ache that follows you into decades. And I think, maybe the true punishment of consciousness is not the suffering we endure, but the sheer detail in which we remember what no one else even noticed. Maybe consciousness is just memory refusing to rot.

[maniacsincebirth]

I’m attracted to your 12 hr screen time and utterly nonsensical anxiety thought loops

[maniacsincebirth]

I just woke up and this is the type of post I need every morning to start my day

If life is a never ending loop of dirty dishes and laundry then that means life is a never ending loop of home cooked meals and comfy clean clothes

[maniacsincebirth]

Ofcourse heaven, hell, and karma exists. It’s just the people you meet.

-me

[maniacsincebirth]

[maniacsincebirth]

I actually had pohe today for breakfast!! Thanks Tara, didn’t know it was you

Chaha Ani pohe 🤌

[maniacsincebirth]

Thanks for the tag @bilkul-lazeez-hu

two truths and a lie tag game

@ashthenerdtheythem @shelfthe-reader

@irishskeptic @ebony-reine-vibes

@riordanverseaddict @gracefulchristiangirl

@padfoot-lupin77 @auroraofthesun1

and of course, @shuutingstar

also anyone else who wants to join!!!!

[maniacsincebirth]

My fav way of judging people is making them watch 500 Days of summer and asking them who was wrong in the movie.

[maniacsincebirth]

“I’d die for you” okay but would you live for me? Would you give up the thought of unaliving yourself everytime I cross your mind? The world, the life ahead from here is gonna be tough. So tell me. Would you live for me?

[maniacsincebirth]

Maybe I’m a little fucked up in the head coz I don’t think cannibalism is weird.

[maniacsincebirth]

it is an honor 2 be in ur computer

[maniacsincebirth]

If it makes my 10th grade teacher feel any better, ma’am ab mai sahi me homework ke saath-saath khaana khaana bhi bhul jaata hu.

[maniacsincebirth]

[maniacsincebirth]