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The moon is a witness to soo many love stories. The fulfilled love stories, the one sided love, the longing, the angst, the yearning for company.
The moon has heard many pleas, asking just another moment between lovers, just another kiss, just another glance, another moment of stolen time.
The moon has granted refuge to many people, the people who live under the moon light, the people who embrace the dark.
The moon has witnessed so many conversations. The silent ones had in strict homes, the loud angry fights, the quiet hidden confessions, the silent pleas, the whispered I love yous and the bold promises that might not be fulfilled.
The moon has fostered so many dreams, of the people who only dared to dream in the darkness and of the people who dreamed of the darkness. The moon has encouraged so many people to dream- "Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars."
The moon has provided solace to so many people, soothed their tears and calmed their fears. The moon a constant in their turbulent life, the only permanent fixture in an uncertain time.
The moon is a testimony that love exists, the grand love, the simple love, the timeless love, but love all the same.
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Sometimes I wonder how everything in this world works out.
Was it meant to be? Or was it just by chance?
The meet cutes, the looks of realisation, the agonisingly slow falls, the love at first sights.
Does the universe plan for it to happen? Arrange each moment with careful consideration?
Make sure all our decisions bring us to that moment- the moment of realisation, the moment of eye contact, the moment of confession?
It is truly a mystery, the universe works in weird ways.
But sometimes I still wonder.
Was it meant to be? Or was it just by chance?
(16/11/2023)
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"watch me get depressed and finish a book in one day"
*proceeds to get depressed and procrastinate*
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The rain gives me so much joy.
The pleasant smells, the foggy windows, the sound of raindrops, the absolute silence as the world listens to the rain scream.
The rain gives me so much comfort.
The hot tea and hot chocolate, the book by the window, the cuddles in the bed and the stories of love.
The rain gives me so much peace.
In the stillness of the world as the rain takes over the roads. In the calm in my life as everybody stops and stares for a while. In the memories of the yester years the rain pulls up.
The rain gives me so much melancholy.
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The heart is the toughest part of the body. Tenderness is in the hands.
(from Carolyn Forché's The Country Between Us)
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Hands are unbearably beautiful. They hold on to things. They let things go.
- Mary Reufle -
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Take my hands in your hands, teach me to remember, teach me not to remember.
(from H.D.'s piece, "Helen in Egypt")
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My hands wanted to touch your hands because we had hands.
(from Frank Bidart's poem, In the Western Light)
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We held hands.
I was wondering what it would be like to have a home of your own where you could come and go, where people would be welcome, where you would never be frightened again.
-Jeanette Winterson, Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal
Holding Hands
A Love Language
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Here's a story time about how I realised that I would burn myself down if that was what was required, to see my best friends do well.
I had many friends who I really connected with throughout my schooling. We were inseparable, everybody knew everything about the others, could not find one without the others kind of connected. But as time flew and the years passed, there was no real effort anyone of us was ready to put to maintain the friendship through a distance when we didn't see each other daily. So 5 years of friendships went down the drain. And it kind of broke my heart how easily we all gave up.
It had a lot of impact on me when the people who I had thought to be my ride or dies went on without me but were maintaining the other group friendahips. I still have no clarity till this date on what really happened. Now I've accepted that life happens and people move on, but back then I was in a dark place wondering what I had done wrong or what I was lacking.
And so me trusting people in college became almost 0%.
But then came these two very beautiful people, plowing through every goddamn wall I had put up. They weaseled their way in and now I'm very happy they did.
And recently, it's been a hard time for me as I deal with caring for my ailing grandpa. I badly needed a cry. So naturally I call one of them, he calms me down, takes me on a ride and he said something that made me realise that both of them had come to mean so much to me that I would do almost anything to see them happy. And I know they will do the same for me too.
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It is the last day of the year.
Take a moment to think on all the issues you faced. All those tough situations that you had to go through. Think on all the problems you tackled, all the mistakes you made and the lessons it taught you. And think on the things you feel most regretful about
But also do think about all the memorable moments you lived through. All those happy memories you have. All the small smiles, the laughs, the inside jokes, that one spontaneous trip with your friends, that one rainy day when you made yourself cozy in the bed, that one cold evening when you made yourself hot chocolate, all the drunk partying, the self care days and the lazy days.
Think about all the people you met this year. All the people, new and old. Those old friends who drifted apart. That one crazy person who you clicked with instantly. The crazy one night stands, the half broken friendship, the heartbreaks, the loves. The family and friends who still stand strong with you.
Think on every little moment of the last year. To those who had a very easy and happy year, hope you have an even better year.
Those who struggled but still made it through, I hope the new year will be worth all the struggles.
To those who just survived the last year, it'll all be alright.
Happy new years folks!
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"I am destroying myself so other people can't," she said, "and it's the worst kind of control but it's the only form I know."
— (via sofijasofia)
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fighting demons is so cringe befriend them and become a crazy psycho nut instead
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1/12/2022
I think i understand why people like being drunk.
People may just like it because they get to spend time with their friends in pubs or at home without any barriers. It may also be because they get to be themselves when they're alone, drunk on wine, dancing to their favourite songs, singing off tune, without a care in the world.
It is just a coping mechanism. A way to escape the real world. The world that is soo brutal and hard, it makes you face your worst fears everytime you step out.
It keeps you from thinking about how you don't have a plan for your life, about how you have soo many issues that you can't trust a person in your life. It keeps you from wondering where you went wrong. Where you made the wrong choice. When you chose to put someone else and their wishes above your own.
It keeps you from thinking about all your wrongs. All your short comings and all your mistakes and regrets in life. It keeps you from thinking about the one chance you had that you gave up, the chance to speak up for yourself, the chance to confess your feelings. A chance to be someone, and stand prodly for yourself.
Being drunk is a way to escape your mistakes. Being drunk is just a way for someone to escape the harsh realities of the world.
And I finally understand.
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People are so fucking heartless these days, that every kind, selfless act I see touches my heart. Like there is no need for a person to be kind and caring to a person they don't even know. But they make the choice. They make the fucking choice to be kind to others, to make an impact on somebody's life, even if they are a fucking stranger and they don't have any need to.
Everytime I see a kind act, it warms my fucking heart. It makes me want to scream into the void. Scream for the world to hear, for the people to hear that the world needs more fucking kindness.
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I sometimes wonder who's the real me. Like what defines me? Who am I? What am I made of? What behaviours and habits and little things make me?
And then I remember I am made up of all the people I have met or encountered in my life.
Like my habit of playing a certain song every morning is my sister's. The way I drink my coffee- very strong with little sugar is the same as a person who I don't think remembers me anymore. The songs I like, the books I read were all my friends likes. The way I scrunch my nose is something I read in a book.
This made me realise that I am not ONLY me. There are somethings in me that are purely me. But most of me is made up of little things if everyone else.
And the same way, imagine how many people adopted your mannerisms unconsciously. How many people carry you through their lives in little things like these?
Isn't that beautiful?
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