poeticmusingsblog

[poeticmusingsblog]

If I share my deepest fears with you, hold on to you tightly because I fear losing you - it means you are special, very special.

I haven’t hit the kind of crazy where I trauma-dump on strangers in grocery store aisles. So when I choose you, know it’s deliberate.

Respect what I bring - my heart, my honesty, my storm.

Don’t fucking make me feel that I am too much, else I’ll have to turn around and show you the mirror - and it’s not going to be a pretty picture.

What you’ll see will be someone incapable of emotional intelligence, someone who can’t hold space for anything deeper than surface-level comfort.

Don’t shrink me to fit your comfort zone.

Don’t label my depth as drama.

And If I walk away, light a candle. You’ll need it to see in the dark I leave behind.

[poeticmusingsblog]

A pet peeve of mine I’ve recently discovered:

I can accept nothing less than being the centre of your universe. 😬🫣😝

[poeticmusingsblog]

I don’t want to be a lost chapter in your life story. I want to be the newspaper you wait to read every morning before you start your day. I want to be your favourite book that rests safely on your bookshelf - the one you keep returning to, again and again. I want to be the diary you write in every night before going to bed, where you share every single detail of your day, all your secrets, and even the parts of your soul you’ve never shown anyone else. I want to be the fairy tale we both long to live, life after life.

[poeticmusingsblog]

Where the mountains guard my heart and the city lights whisper forgotten dreams - tonight, even silence feels like poetry 💫

[poeticmusingsblog]

Last night was a blessing in disguise. I just couldn’t bring myself to sleep - not even for a few hours. But then, something serendipitous happened. I absentmindedly reached for my laptop and started writing. Honestly, for the first 40–45 minutes, I don’t even know what kind of nonsense I was typing… but I guess that somehow managed to unlock the creativity that had felt blocked over the past few days. I actually ended up adding almost three pages to my murder mystery. Yay 🥳 💫! I haven’t felt this good in weeks. I feel alive again, and it’s such a relief to reconnect with my writing self 🙂❤️.

[poeticmusingsblog]

Serendipity is life’s quiet magic - the unexpected meeting, the accidental discovery, the perfect moment you never planned.

It’s a reminder that not everything beautiful needs to be chased, some things find you when you’re simply living, breathing, being.

In a world of algorithms and overthinking, serendipity is still the universe’s softest way of saying: you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

[poeticmusingsblog]

Why do so many men - around here and elsewhere - assume that if a woman writes or posts something about love and desire, she must be desperate or just looking to get laid?

What if she’s already in love, and this is simply her way of letting her man know what he means to her?

Or is it that writing poems and love letters is a privilege reserved only for men in love?

Or perhaps she’s just the kind of woman who observes deeply, feels intensely, and expresses herself freely.

So stop projecting your own insecurities, fantasies, or biases onto women who have a voice and the courage to be seen and heard.

[poeticmusingsblog]

In a world of chaos, be a bloom of bold color - standing tall, unapologetically vibrant.

[poeticmusingsblog]

Dreams too big? Heart too wild? Perfect. Nevermore apologizing for it. 👱🏻‍♀️

[poeticmusingsblog]

The only thing that stands between you and your dreams, most of the time, is your hesitation to ask - ask for help, ideas, feedback, or sometimes, something as simple as warmth, a few kind words, or a tight hug.

Don’t hold back for fear of denial or rejection - it’s not the worst thing that can happen. Instead, think of all the endless possibilities that asking could unlock for you.

If you must envision something, envision your dreams finally coming to life — not your worst nightmares crashing down on you. After all, as J.K. Rowling once said, “Imagination is powerful.” Every great discovery and innovation was once a seed of imagination, nurtured and shaped by faith, hard work, and resilience.

So, imagine boldly. Ask bravely. And build a life that even your fears stand in awe of.

[poeticmusingsblog]

Built to Endure

They’ll doubt your steps, they’ll call you slow,

Say, “Turn around, there’s nowhere to go.”

But roots grow deep where storms have been,

And strength is born from trials within.

The climb is steep, the air gets thin,

You lose, you cry, you start again.

Each scar a badge, each bruise a flame

You’re not here just to play the game.

The world may shift, the skies may fall,

But those who rise outlast them all.

For mountains move, and night decays

Not from force, but will that stays.

[poeticmusingsblog]

It’s not that I don’t support equal rights for women - I absolutely do. But I feel that constantly emphasizing feminism can sometimes end up widening the very gap we’re trying to close. It’s almost as if we’re reinforcing the idea that we are weaker, that we need support or validation to rise. But the truth is, we don’t need a movement to claim what is already our birthright. Strength, dignity, and equality are not things to be granted - they’re inherently ours.

That said, this is just how I see it. I have absolutely nothing against those who support feminism - in fact, I deeply respect them. I believe you don’t have to agree with someone to respect them.

[poeticmusingsblog]

We rock like rock stars; our vibes, warm and friendly, travel wide and afar.

We may walk through shadows, but they can never dim our star. 💡😬😝

[poeticmusingsblog]

So, I’m new to Telegram, and honestly, I’m on so many apps right now that it’s impossible to keep track of how each one works or what’s going on where. Anyway, I was (in vain, of course) trying my best to explain something to a friend when I accidentally ended up sending them something that, let’s just say, wasn’t exactly appropriate for the occasion — or the person (FML). Now I’m way too embarrassed to even log back into that app, let alone talk to them again. 🫣😩

[poeticmusingsblog]

I don’t understand why I end up writing things I never plan to, and can’t seem to write what I actually want to. Like this morning—I sat down hoping to make some progress on my murder mystery, but instead, I wrote a stupid haiku on heartbreak, a short social media post about my sudden eccentric fascination with jogging on broad cemented stairs (weird, I know 🥸), and a rambling note-to-self that somehow turned into a pep talk… and then an existential crisis.

And I’m not just talking about writing.

I’m talking about me—my life, my direction.

It feels like I’m wandering through pages I never meant to write.

[poeticmusingsblog]

I have developed another eccentric fetish, fascination—or whatever you fancy calling it. Have you seen those broad, like really broad, cemented staircases? I love to jog on them. Especially when the sun is slowly slipping under the blanket of the horizon, where the earth meets the sky and a slow, cool breeze is in motion. It’s one of the most liberating experiences—well, after writing, of course. It feels like ascending to something divine and sacred, with full power and grace. It’s a ritual, where you are in control of the pace and the momentum.

I know this might sound strange—but isn’t strange what so often draws us in? It’s an invitation—a gateway to something new, refreshing, and undeniably alive—which is much needed in a life that might sometimes feel a little too familiar and bland.

[poeticmusingsblog]

Added almost five pages to my murder mystery yesterday, and also mapped out my projects for the rest of the year. Busy days ahead! 😝🧳