when mohsin naqvi said,
"kabhi ye dua ke wo mera hai faqat mera // kabhi ye darr ke wo mujhse juda to nahin
Sometimes I pray that he is mine, only mine // Ever out of fear that he might separate from me
kabhi ye dua ke usse mil jaaye saare jahan ki khushiyaan // kabhi ye khauf ke wo khush mere bina to nahin
Someday I pray that all the happiness of the world should be found with him // Sometimes this fear that he is happy without me
kabhi ye khwaish ke zamana ho muntazir uska //kabhi ye vehem ke wo kisi se mila to nahin
Someday this desire that the world is waiting for him // Sometimes this illusion that he had met anyone
kabhi ye aarzu ke wo jo maange mil jaaye usse mohsin // kabhi ye waswasa ke usne mere siwa kuch manga to nahin"
Sometimes I wish he get whatever he asked for // Ever wondered whether he asked for anything other than me.
my heart couldn't decide what it wants.
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"I want you always to remember me. Will you remember that I existed, and that I stood next to you here like this?"
– Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood
"If you remember me, then I don't care if everybody else forgets."
– Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
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thinking abt when someone rests their head on your shoulder and suddenly you’re barely breathing because you don’t want to disrupt their comfort by moving. will never get over how there can be so much love held in silent gestures.
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something something "to know how it ends and still begin to sing it again" and "and just knowing that everything will end we should not change our plan when we begin again" and beginning anew while looking the end and despair in the eyes, something something
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I’m always feeling like wait did I just do something unforgivable? But all I did was walk somewhere or turn in a paper late
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Take that pencil and draw, even if you haven’t done it for years. Pick up that guitar and strum it, even if you never took a single class. Click that camera button and take a picture, even if you don’t know anything about temperature or saturation. You should do what you feel drawn to even if you think that you aren’t “skilled”. You should do it because you genuinely enjoy it, which is more than enough.
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am i being a little bitch about it or am i actually allowed to be hurt by that: a novel by me
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Kyla Jamieson, “I Need A Poem,” in Body Count [ID in ALT]
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– Susan Sontag
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from a poem traveled down my arm- alice walker
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bashing my head into a wall monday
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Today I’m wearing a lovely shade of I slept like shit so don’t piss me off
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I am a mosaic of everyone I have ever known and loved and touched and I find fragments of them in my playlists and how I make my tea. we may not know each other any more but we will stay connected like this. I hope a fragment of me is with you too.
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I need clear instructions for every small task and conversation in my life or else I embarrass myself but it’s okay I’m handling it fine
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I hope they’re happy :-( from this blog post
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