perfectlydreamysunflower

[perfectlydreamysunflower]

Hey, I just had to ask after reading your bio—are you a fellow law person too?

yes. yes i am

[perfectlydreamysunflower]

Absolutely hate being a daughter in a desi household

[perfectlydreamysunflower]

{Words by Anaïs Nin, from The Diary Of Anais Nin, Vol. 4 (1944-1947) / Cynthia Cruz from diagnosis,The glimmering room}

[perfectlydreamysunflower]

shabnam virmani + amrita pritam + chaand

[perfectlydreamysunflower]

Yaar I wonder kisiko crush hai merepe?

[perfectlydreamysunflower]

i have a reading list longer than my life expectancy

[perfectlydreamysunflower]

You know what one of my biggest fears is? It's That the people I consider the closest will one day see I'm not really worth it. That they'll quietly leave, no fight, no closure, just disappear from my life and go on to live lighter, happier without me. And no one will even notice I'm not around. Not really. Like I was never that important to begin with.

[perfectlydreamysunflower]

idk how you girls are letting the men who fumble you walk away like that. i always make them ugly cry for at least couple of days. it's the most satisfying sound ever

[perfectlydreamysunflower]

just had chai for the first time in my life and i have questions.

taste? mitti + melted depression + upar se dhoodh ka unnecessary emotional damage. masale daal ke tum logon ne potion banaya hai ya beverage??

mitti flavor profile ke saath kisne collaboration kiya tha?? aur yeh log keh rahe “chai se hi subah hoti hai” BHAI MERE TOH DIN KI MAUT HO GAYI ISKE BAAD.

KYUN BANAYA GAYA YE ZEHR?!?!

aur bhai kale round round "patte"??? kya tumne underworld ke contract sign kiye the?? dried leaves kahaan hain?? twigs kahaan hain??

ITNA HYPE KYU HAI IS CHEEZ KA?!? log genuinely isse subah uth ke peete hai? khushi se? apni marzi se?? are you guys okay? therapy jana hai??

[perfectlydreamysunflower]

I am not playing hard to get. I am hard to get. So you better worship me or leave me the fuck alone.

[perfectlydreamysunflower]

me: finally finds a green flag man after centuries of dating red flags disguised as walking trauma bond generators also me: hmm. suspicious. why aren’t you toxic. why do you communicate. why do you care. why aren’t you calling me dramatic for crying during ads?

also also me: starts overthinking every word he says, overanalyzing emojis, rereading messages like they’re UN treaties, panic-Googling “do green flags hide red flags?”

him: sitting peacefully in a corner, watching me spiral like a lovingly deranged hamster "that’s my chaos"

me: this man probably studied so hard he accidentally ascended to a higher plane of emotional intelligence. he’s not even confused, he’s just zen.

[perfectlydreamysunflower]

i want someone to take me to khan market, have ice cream together, walking hand in hand the whole time, on the cobblestoned path eating churros on the way, getting coffee from one of the million cafes and steal kisses in lonesome corners. i want to go to fakir chand bookstore and just look at all the books and not buy a single one because they are overpriced, and them just admiring me as i admire the piles and shelves full of pages. i just want to love and adore and cherish, in a place that's home to me in a billion ways and have them love me back.

[perfectlydreamysunflower]

not me explaining the difference between socialism and communism to my hinge match at 1am. like sir. babe. sweetheart. socialism ≠ communism. marx is rolling in his grave and i’m rolling my eyes.

and THEN i had to explain how capitalism is basically a scam run by 12 billionaires, 5 tech bros, and the ghosts of colonialism. like why am i doing an unpaid ted talk in the middle of flirting. why do i have to cite sources to make you ✨question the system✨ when all i asked was "what’s your love language?"

do men not read anymore??? is critical thinking illegal now??? did we ban nuance and nobody told me??? anyway here’s me doing god’s work in the dms while fully dressed like a bratz doll and drinking my matcha.

if he says “but capitalism gave us iphones” one more time i’m gonna unionize his neurons.

[perfectlydreamysunflower]

“For you, I wou– 🫷🏻”

For Myself, I would.

[perfectlydreamysunflower]

why do people assume I think I’m better than them based on how I talk and carry myself? Do I think I’m better than you or do YOU think I’m better than you?

[perfectlydreamysunflower]

I’m re-reading The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, and it’s hitting differently this time. Funny how books do that—they change depending on where you are in life. The first time I read it, it was just a story. Now? It’s like I’m living it.

I used to read this book with my ex, and we’d joke about being Celia and Evelyn—me as Celia, her as Evelyn. The way Celia loved with everything she had, the way Evelyn fought for what she wanted. We were so sure we understood them, as if we could never end up like them. The love we had was ours, right? Special. Unbreakable.

But now, I’m sitting here, holding the book close, and I realize I’m both Celia and Evelyn now. I see Evelyn's strength, the way she’s learned to guard herself, and I feel that in my bones. I feel Celia’s vulnerability too, her desperate desire to be loved, to be enough. The heartbreak of losing the person you thought would be there forever, it cuts deep. But somehow, even though it hurts, it’s also freeing. It’s like finding a part of me I didn’t even know I’d lost, a part of me that was hidden, waiting for the right time to show itself.

I understand Evelyn in a way I didn’t before. I understand my ex in a way I never could. How they both loved with everything, how they carried their scars, how they gave pieces of themselves away for love. It’s strange, but in some odd, painful way, reading this now is helping me heal. Maybe that’s the magic of Evelyn Hugo—her story is a tragedy, but there’s hope tucked in there too. Her strength doesn’t erase her pain. Her courage doesn’t make her any less human.

I don’t know what the future holds. But I think that’s the point. Maybe that’s why I keep coming back to this book—because, in the end, it’s about surviving our stories. About being okay with the pain, because even in that, there’s freedom. There’s a recognition of who we are, of who I am flawed, messy, loving fiercely, and still learning how to pick up the pieces.

I still feel her Evelyn. In every word. In every page.

[perfectlydreamysunflower]

took beginner, intermediate and advanced nuclear disarmament exams within 24 hours bc i thought academic masochism was a love language. surprise! it’s not. beginner? cute. intermediate? manageable. advanced?? hello? who wrote that??? oppenheimer’s ghost??? advanced took my soul, shattered it, served it back in a radiation-safe container. scored 60% when the pass mark is 80% so guess who’s retaking it in 3 days with zero dignity and a nuclear headache while battling brain fog, existential dread, and the overwhelming urge to scream into the void?

did i impress the IR guy? no. he is concerned. he told me to sleep.

would i do it again? YES. IN A HEARTBEAT. do i need help? probably.

anything for the serotonin hit of academic validation.