inkrkive

[inkrkive]

when they say i miss you. but Krishna in githa govinda said “O radhe, please place your feet on my head and cure me of the poison of longing.”

[inkrkive]

May 12 to 13, 1913 Letters to Felice by Franz Kafka First published : 1973

[inkrkive]

yvmin's body decoration worn at the waist is inspired by the millennial fashion style of pairing thongs with low waisted jeans

[inkrkive]

Sand and Water by Tim Forcade (Color Photograph) | Artful Home

[inkrkive]

tgcf as text posts

[inkrkive]

Arjun - "jagat mei sabse sundar kon madhav?"

Krishna - "mai parth aur kon ?"

Credit - pinterest

[inkrkive]

He'd be my best friend

Krishna if he was Gen Z

A mandatory ‘Woke up like this’ story on his pvt where he actually woke up looking pretty in those messy locks and long lashes.

Greeting everyone as he walks down the lane.

Doesn’t bother carrying a tiffin because he’s sure Rukmini would bring two extra tiffins just for him.

Probably has ‘Keep Calm & carry on’ quote on his table.

Begged Rukmini into making a ‘Take a look at my girlfriend’ reel and posted it across all his socials.

Brought a cute little cactus and forgot to water it. This cycle keeps repeating every time.

Has an entire wall in his house dedicated to fit all the Talent Hunt trophies he has won by playing the Flute.

Once went to play cricket with the kids in his colony and hit the ball soo far that they never let him touch the bat again.

On popular demand, has a ‘my curly hair care routine’ video posted on his Instagram.

Endless Pani Puri competitions with Bheem that he has ‘surprisingly’ never won.

Phone’s gallery always filled with candid pictures of Rukmini, local cows, his dead cactus and screenshots of recipes.

[inkrkive]

Love ain't always sunshine and rainbows, sometimes it's messy arguments and forgiving stupid stuff.

[inkrkive]

[inkrkive]

About you

She tells me that adventures are made out of fire, so make sure you light up your morning with enough to guide you safely back home if I’m not there to do it.

My best friend has the soul of a unicorn battling with a dragon, mythical beasts in constant competition to win the day over— she is made out of poetry and stardust laced with the solemn and loyalty of true friendship, I often wonder if she’s the lucky one or if I am.

You see I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting you, but I think we might have met in a past life. My mother tells me that everyone you will love in this lifetime, you are bound by blood and bones from previous wounds. The kind of person to believe that birthmarks are where you died in a past life, the kind to tell me that wherever your moe is located, that’s where you’re the strongest— you have the kindest parts of my mother’s laugh and the most gentle parts of a rose.

She tells me that if I have trip over the same rock a thousand more times over until I get it, she’ll be right there to remind me that mountains are made from the stones that I kick. My best friend finds meaning in the simplest of things, if the sun didn’t shine today, it’s because someone on the otherside of the planet needed warmth to steer away from the cold that December unknowingly leaves behind for the summer to finally kiss it back into overdrive— if love is real and life is simple, then all of our favorite things begin with a cup of tea with 13 different types of honey to go with it.

When I didn’t have anyone, you were there. You didn’t have to be, but you’re just like me. You have a soft spot for strays and broken things, you could probably write a poem for every single raindrop that misses its cloud if you felt like it. My best friend has more than a way with words, she has a way with souls.

My universe, my everything— my heart, my poetry. My joy, my freedom from depression— my windy morning to remind me that leaves need to breathe again too, my sunshine forever poem left in any backpocket. My airplane folding and throwing it down the tallest building of every city kind of girl, you’re the most brilliant and humble person that I know.

She sings her heart away when nobody listens, but if you wanted to— she’d sing for you too. She says that love is only worth it if you’re able to share it.

You are love. You are the infinite amount of stars that will die out some day. You are the beauty that resides in knowing that we won’t last that long, so why not enjoy it while we’re here? Why not poetry it all away until the pain subsides? Fuck the drugs, I want more love. Tell me where it doesn’t make the most sense, tell me about your favorite songs, tell me about your dreams and I’ll tell you about mine. If you’re a rose, then I’m the soil. If you’re a bird, I’ll be your wings. If we go to hell, I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again— the devil’s gonna have to send us back up, because we’re going to spray paint his gates with so much poetry… it’ll start to look like heaven. For goodness sakes, send those two back up, I’ve had enough type of energy.

When it rains— she’s the most beautiful reflection of the sky you’ve ever seen in a puddle, metaphorically polaroid worthy left inside of our throats— I’ve detailed every single petal and they’re all different, she says if she had to write herself an origin story, it’ll start with a thousand poems turned into paper cranes sent to lovers who need it when they feel unlovable— my words against yours, if I’m the reason why she got up today, then she’s the reason why I dream at night.

December is the scariest month for us and I know death doesn’t look both ways when it crosses the street— but when I ask about your mother, every question is just a statement that says thank you for giving birth to this magnificent soul. I love you for giving her to us— life isn’t perfect, I realize that, but she’s hopeful and that keeps my spirits high. Worlds apart, but the best way to love someone is knowing that they’ve got your back, not even the ocean can stop that. That’s love. That’s real. That unconditional shit.

When I was low down and out, when I was suicidal and hurt myself because I didn’t have any sense of direction, when I was not acting how I wanted to truly be, when I was giving my time and energy to the wrong people, when I was heartbroken and stranded inside of my own head with nowhere to swim and no one to save me— you were my late night I’ll spill positivity inside of you like light rain on a gloomy day, but by 2 pm, the sun is here and it’s all nice again— you were my sweet, I like what you did with that kind of friend— you were my writing after writing because expressing how you really feel is the most raw way to write a poem kind of love.

I would be really fucked without you, I just wanted you to know that.

I love you wasn’t enough, so I wrote you a poem instead. Thank you for everything.

[inkrkive]

metaphors at 4 AM

you have never hurt me and i don’t think you ever will. you filled a very sad part of my life with laughter. online friendship feeling better than the real thing. it’s funny because before two weeks ago– i only heard your voice through music and poetry. no bullshit, just genuine love. all of my favorite things in one soul. when i let go of my razors, you said that’s my champ. when they love me, you make sure that i’m certain. is it really love or was it because they said the right words at the right time? the right person can still be wrong for you. your methods are light. your methods are simple. you cannot force love. you can only free it. like how da vinci sketched– he’d buy caged birds just to give them flight. like in fight club when the narrator finally let Tyler Durden go by shooting himself in the cheek– sometimes you have to kill a piece of yourself to save the whole. like how tupac will always love jada– even if death arrives, the impact shall remain. like how shane koyczan writes about his darling sara– the failing use of my right hand will never stop me from writing. there are soulmates and then there’s you. maybe you’re my twin flame. maybe you’re my balance. a response for all of my elements. if i am fire, you’re a barrel of gasoline. vent, rant. it does not matter, just don’t break your other hand. punch the pen into the sky instead– let the ink make the stars happy. let the hole become the moon. if i am water, you are my reflection. calm, breathe. just like that. sway your emotions into the sea, give the ocean its blue. be my sunrise. be my sunset. the greeks had gods to explain their natural world– and i’ve got you. my poetics. my prose. my bleeding heart used to play spin the bottle by my exes and it’s always in my head, in a metaphor, in a maze, in a love letter, in a paper crane, in a cootie catcher, in my bad habits– so i met her at 4 am– so i’ll meet you at 4 am, everyday. is that okay?

[inkrkive]

I chose to walk away and you chose not to stop me.

[inkrkive]

List of things I've been told since you cheated

I'm so sorry / how did you find out? / You're too pretty to be cheated on / you don't deserve this / he doesn't deserve you / what can women do if pretty ones like you are being cheated on / fuck him / it's not your fault / this is not funny / you shouldn't laugh / you'll find someone better / I'm here for you / please don't laugh you're scaring me / you've lost your mind / it's not you it's men / you should've dated a man and not a kid / he doesn't even realize what he has lost / you're so pretty how could someone do this to you? / You're my brave kid / he wasn't worth it

[inkrkive]

So. He cheated

[inkrkive]

Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous

[inkrkive]

[inkrkive]

Krishna is 100 percent, a dedicated gossiper.

I will not elaborate