thisguybikash

[thisguybikash]

has anyone noticed that working for a living sucks ass

[thisguybikash]

—Fyodor Dostoevsky

[thisguybikash]

I find it kind of stupid how 'half full' vs 'half empty' is framed as an optimist/pessimist thing. If it starts full and gets halfway drained, it's half empty. If it starts empty and gets halfway filled, it's half full. If you don't know the starting state it's both simultaneously.

[thisguybikash]

Andrew Garfield talks to Elmo about grief and the passing of his mother

[thisguybikash]

reading Sputnik Sweetheart by Haruki Murakami

[thisguybikash]

need a polite way to say "im not engaging in a discussion on this topic with you because the conclusions you have reached are based on so many interwoven layers of misconceptions it would be easier to just like, hard reset your whole brain, just start over as a baby and try again"

[thisguybikash]

You own the home you live in. The last owners painted the walls of your bedroom a horrible off white.

You fucking hate it. Every day you wake up to off-white walls and off-white ceilings and pass through your off-white door to get to the rest of the house. You feel like you've been locked up in a padded room. It makes you want to die.

So what is there to do? Well, you own the home. Go out and get some paint, a roller or two, and a drop cloth. If the color makes you want to kill yourself, you should obviously change it.

But what if you didn't hate it. What if it just mildly perturbed you? Or maybe what if you didn't, like, reeeeeally mind it all that much, but you knew that another color would make you a lot happier? Does the decision that you come to change?

Sure, it's work moving the furniture out, setting up, painting, making sure you get the edges, cleaning up, letting it all dry, etc, but isn't adding joy to your life worth the effort? Don't you owe it to yourself to subtract mediocrity and add happiness? Do you need to be miserable to envision a better life?

[thisguybikash]

randomly remembering the time in 2012 when everyone kept saying the world was going to end at midday that day and like, i didnt really believe it, but i didnt want to be a complete fool if i was wrong, so i excused myself from class to go sit the field and perfectly timed the beat drop to a skrillex song just in case something happened. and im just. retroactively amused by the idea of ushering in the appocalypse with skrillex. most 2012 thing you could possibly do.

[thisguybikash]

Soulmate

I didn’t know what to expect

when I met your green eyes

and they met mine

for the first time since our last meeting

in our past lives.

I was never sure of having multiple past lives before,

but I’ve met you

and loved you

everytime ive met you.

Everytime I’ve heard your deep loving voice

and everytime we’ve smashed into each other

like comets hitting earth,

with love.

My heart recognizes you

everytime our eyes have met

and its always been love

because I’ve tried to describe what I feel when you’re with me

and words are never accurate enough.

I feel the need for you

as much as I need food to survive

I need your skin

your touch

you.

Now I can believe in things

that never even crossed my mind.

It took some time

but I’ve finally met you

again.

[thisguybikash]

I’m not sure how much of it is innate and how much of it is imitative, but a thing I’ve always found interesting about feline vocalisation is that they enunciate for emphasis in pretty much the same way that humans do, so when a cat is being emphatic you can literally hear the exclamation point.

[thisguybikash]

[thisguybikash]

The legacies people leave behind in you.

My handwriting is the same style as the teacher’s who I had when I was nine. I’m now twenty one and he’s been dead eight years but my i’s still curve the same way as his.

I watched the last season of a TV show recently but I started it with my friend in high school. We haven’t spoken in four years.

I make lentil soup through the recipe my gran gave me.

I curl my hair the way my best friend showed me.

I learned to love books because my father loved them first.

How terrifying, how excruciatingly painful to acknowledge this. That I am a jigsaw puzzle of everyone I have briefly known and loved. I carry them on with me even if I don’t know it. How beautiful.

~Edit~

Yikes guys I didn’t expect this post to blow up.

I’m grateful it did though. Looking at all the comments and tags really takes a stab at my heart because it just shows how wired we are for connection. If life has any meaning, then it’s that.

This concept really sunk its teeth into me as it reassures the notion that no one is ever truly gone. Parts of them just change into you.

That teacher I talked about inspired me to become a teacher myself. This was my first year teaching. Here’s to a new generation of curved i’s.

[thisguybikash]

being in your early 20s is crazy bc there’s people who are literally married and people who’ve never even dated and people who are trapped in their childhood bedrooms waiting to get out and people who are trying to live out romanticized dream lives and people who are completely on their own and people with multi tiered support systems and we’re all supposedly peers and none of us think we’re doing it right at all

[thisguybikash]

[thisguybikash]

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

[thisguybikash]

quick reminder that it’s ok to say that you love reading and that reading is your passion without reading 30+ books in a year. if you connect with books and love the power of the written word, you’re bookish. you don’t need to justify your love of reading.

[thisguybikash]

You are not just a person. There's a whole universe inside of you. A universe which is a collection of all the books you have read, all the stories you are to tell, all the sunsets you have admired, all the restless nights you have survived, all the compliments you have received, all the kindness you have given out, all the light and darkness you have seen, all the versions you have been, all the poems you have written and all the perspectives you have seen. You are a composition of the life you have lived and will live.