solivagant-nubivagant
Littera Scripta Manet
the written letter lasts
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mokeymokey
IT IS A HUGE SCORPION WITH EVIL SOUL
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hotaruyy
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hausos-writing
just a little starlight
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It all just ends…and it all just keeps ending…
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write something,
anything...
for him.
he deserves some comfort for...everything
he deserves some hope, some comfort words and love
but when I am being honest...
when he went into his story the other night,
I had no words left.
because I know what he was talking about.
I know that pain all too well, a little too well I think...I wish I could say something to him, anything that would make it better, but I can't...
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I said, "It hurt"
I went on saying it hurt and hurt and hurt
and he listened.
then I hear quiet sobbing,
and he started with his tale.
then I listened
and kept listening.
he kept speaking about how it hurt for him too
and I sit and wonder...
ek naya sabak seekha hai zindagi se...
jinse mohabbat hoti hai unko apna dard nahi bataya karte
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Something in my chest broke so violently…I wonder how no one else heard it…
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Come on. Come on kid.
This is what you dreamed of all your life.
But what’s the point?
I…don’t have an answer to that. Just that, this is what you wanted all your life.
Come on. You got this.
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No wait. I was scrolling through Instagram while shoving pasta in my mouth yk like you do….and I ran across this reel….a woman crying cause she baked a man cookies and the man just wanted sex…I mean ofc girl you were crying 🥺 And honestly happened with me too….they just never cared about anything that I made them….I remember I went to see my first boyfriend on our “monthi-versary” (yeah cringe af I know it was a big thing when I was 13) thingy…I baked him his favourite cake and that motherfucker didn’t even show up…and same with my ex…I have a habit of making little stuff for people I care about…and he never showed any reaction like “wow that’s good” that’s it…like even if he gave a good compliment it sounded so dry….
But then I just started thinking about Him…and the time I gave him that little box I made for him 😭😭 the best way I can describe the feeling is through this 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️😭😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️❤️😭❤️
HE IS SOOOO CUTE. He hugged it 😭 he said “bruh I can’t fight but if someone touched this box I’d fight them” and then he looked so emotional 😭😭 it was sooo cute
He is this really tall guy and the owl I made him…it’s so little and he hugged it and he was gently patting it 😭😭 he saw the owl and goes “NIMBUSSSSS” and held it 😭
oh god—
He just kept hugging/holding the box the whole time it was so cute oh my god I can’t believe this guy is real 😭😭
I was so scared he won’t show up but bruh 😭 when he saw me HIS FACE HIS FACE THE WAY HIS EYES FLEW OPEN I CANT EVEN
HE KEPT CALLING ME PRETTYYYYY
THE WAY HE WAS PLAYING WITH MY EARRINGS OH GOD IT WAS SO CUTE While making little sounds 😭
And then and then—
WE WERE MEASURING OUR HAND SIZES THEN HE INTERLOCKED OUR FINGERS AND MADE A SOUND LIKE “ploooop” 😭
Then one time he touched my shoulder to make sure I was real and then I put my head on his shoulder it was so comfortable I loved it so much—
😭
The hugggggg HE SMELLED SO GOOD I WAS SNIFFING MY SHIRT LATER
He wore the black shirt 😭 he remembered 😭
And THE HUG 😭
If I start gushing about him it would never end I don’t wanna type rn but I wanna talk about him he’s so cute
Also I deserve that I’ve been studying since morning….gonna go do more now BUT HES SO CUTE OH GOD I LOVE HIM
Look what he’s done to me…this is so weird I am never reading this again
I need to write more about him tbh
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Welcome to the limit (the limit)
Take it baby, one step more
The power game's still playing so you better win it
Push it to the limit (the limit)
With no one left to stand in your way
You might get careless, but you'll never be safe
While you're still livin'
Welcome to the limit (the limit)
Standing on the razor's edge
So don't look down just keep your head, or you'll be finished
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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
*screaming throwing my legs in the air punching the air*
*butterflies and blushing*
No seriously he isn’t the kinda guy I should’ve been worried would not show up 😂
NO WAY HE’S THAT ADORABLE MAN NO FUCKING WAY
I’m just hoping I meet him oh my god I can’t believe I actually have a chance of seeing him 😭
And that too in a botanical garden…? No way NO FUCKING WAY
He’s probably gonna get tired of my info dumps the whooooooleeee time
I can’t believe my father actually agreed to let me stay in the botanical garden alone 😭
I can’t I just IM SO FREAKING EXCITED OH GOD
I wanna hug him so bad and trust me once I do I’m not leaving bruh I’m like a leech. I wanna bite his nose idk if that’s appropriate and I wanna kiss his cheek so bad but again don’t know if that’s ok so
ANYWAY hug it is AAAAH—
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
*love/ cuteness aggression taking over*
Yeah one of the embarrassing blogs 😂
MAN WHAT AM I GONNA WEAR
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My stupid heart
Don't know, I've tried to let you go
So many times before
Then wound up at your door
My stupid
Can't believe that I haven't figured out by now
Every time I call you up
All you do is let me down
Should have known there was nothing about us I could change
Every time we try to be friends it always ends the same
But when I try to remember
All the pain that we've been through
Something in me says "Whatever"
And it brings me back to you
Why am I even doing this..?
It’s not the fact that he is remarrying that makes my heart hurt so much.
It’s the fact that he lied to me to do it. Whatever reason he had. Why did he lie?
Why did he make such an elaborate plan to get it done?
If he had come to me straight up and said “I want to marry” I would not have had a problem with it.
Why did he play me? Using my sister? Using my fucking best friend??? Why? I don’t fucking get it man.
And then he doesn’t even have the courage to tell me the date huh. My sister doesn’t even know, forget telling my mother’s family.
I remember when I was young I thought of him as the best and most honest man I ever knew. He was my father. fathers were always there to catch you when you fell. I remember the train so clearly, child me on the top bunk, playing, when my mother told me to come down to eat. I was scared to use the stairs…my father told me he’d pull me down, I was scared, thinking he would drop me. But he didn’t.
I guess I always had a flair for the dramatic, always thinking about things too much, since I was a child.
“Jeevan ke dukho se yuu darte nahi hai…aise bachke sachch se guzarte nahi hai…sukh ki hai chah toh dukh bhi sehna hai”
But I am scared. The only thing I ever knew in the whole world was that my family would never leave me.
No matter what happened, family would never leave me. And apparently all that was a lie. No one stays, everyone leaves you in the end.
Then I think about them. Both of them, my best friend and yk…him. They’ve been with me whenever I needed them, since I met them. And honestly? As much as I trust them, it still scares the fuck out of me.
I wanna tell him that there’s an 80% chance I’m gonna visit Bangalore in about two weeks.
And not with my friend like I told him, but with my “family”, and if we played our cards right we may see each other.
My friend said she isn’t going anymore cause her father didn’t allow, so I asked my father if we can go to Bangalore. Idk why I did that, it was a weird wild thought, seeing him with my father being around….man I cannot think of a more dangerous thing honestly, but I sense it is possible. And I’m ready to take that leap, because if we’re both careful it can happen.
But why? Why am I doing everything I can for someone AGAIN? I know how that will end.
*in reference to a previous entry*
“Tell me, you love so strong and true, to everything. Even the smallest thing. Do you actually believe you would find someone as crazy as you? Let me tell you something my dear, you would never find someone who loves like you. Ever. People like you are simply not made.”
This is exactly like that day. Idk I’m gonna talk to him about it. Let’s see what he says.
It’s like standing on that one decision point once again. Let’s see if the result is gonna be the same or it’ll change.
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7:21 am
Throat hurts so damn bad. And I lost my voice with how much it hurts. And Booksy is sleeping, again. Ofc he is. *with that soft soft fat belly facing upwards and his paws in the air* SO DAMN CUTE
father is going out to buy me medicine.
But tbh, I’m thinking about him. I’m thinking about the fact that I shared my blog with him…I wonder if he read any of it…I wonder if he would ever open it again, I wonder what he would think as he read through my crappy poetry, if he did at all…
It’s all so uncertain isn’t it…? You can never know what’s exactly happening, with anything and not just this.
I think a lot more about him than I’d like to though, I think about a lot of things a lot more than I’d like to, but thankfully when it comes to him it’s the good kind of thinking.
It overwhelms me tbh…the amount of uncertainty that is in living…when my maa was alive, it was all so simple…I just never observed the uncertainties. She did it for me. But now that I look them in the face, all I can do is stare blankly at the absolute absurdity of it all.
I can never truly know what’s gonna happen, when a thing might turn. When it will all begin or when it will all end. The story keeps going, and then ends in a mid sentence. It’s like the imperial affliction.
Well John green is my favourite author, also the author that is the kind of favourite I don’t talk about. Like some things are so special and personal to us, that sharing them feels like a betrayal. His books have felt the most “me” to me, and I’d go so far as to say I have found myself scattered in the pages of his books, and someone who has read his books knows about me a lot. (Ofc assuming “me” is a constant and not a constantly changing body)
Nah, but I love his books, there are some scenes I wish happened with my IRL but eh we all have fantasies no?
As I was saying, uncertainty overwhelms me, but it’s also somehow comforting? (Ofc when you have no choice in a matter, you make a home out of hell too)
Well yeah now my throat REALLY hurts and I can’t really think over it so
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“I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. I will love you as the starfish loves a coral reef and as kudzu loves trees, even if the oceans turn to sawdust and the trees fall in the forest without anyone around to hear them. I will love you as the pesto loves the fettuccini and ats the horseradish loves the miyagi, and the pepperoni loves the pizza. I will love you as the manatee loves the head of lettuce and as the dark spot loves the leopard, as the leech loves the ankle of a wader and as a corpse loves the beak of the vulture. I will love you as the doctor loves his sickest patient and a lake loves its thirstiest swimmer. I will love you as the beard loves the chin, and the crumbs love the beard, and the damp napkin loves the crumbs, and the precious document loves the dampness of the napkin, and the squinting eye of the reader loves the smudged document, and the tears of sadness love the squinting eye as it misreads what is written.
I will love you as the iceberg loves the ship, and the passengers love the lifeboat, and the lifeboat loves the teeth of the sperm whale, and the sperm whale loves the flavor of naval uniforms. I will love you as a drawer loves a secret compartment, and as a secret compartment loves a secret, and as a secret loves to make a person gasp... I will love you until all such compartments are discovered and opened, and all the secrets have gone gasping into the world. I will love you until all the codes and hearts have been broken and until every anagram and egg has been unscrambled. I will love you until every fire is extinguished and rebuilt from the handsomest and most susceptible of woods. I will love you until the bird hates a nest and the worm hates an apple. I will love you as we find ourselves farther and farther from one another, where once we were so close... I will love you until your face is fogged by distant memory. I will love you no matter where you go and who you see, I will love you if you don't marry me. I will love you if you marry someone else--and i will love you if you never marry at all, and spend your years wishing you had married me after all. That is how I will love you even as the world goes on its wicked way.”
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So yeah I told him about my blog…he’s cute. He wanted me to talk about it. Idk maybe I’ll give him the ID some day…that would be a big step tbh…
Idk I just feel kinda gloomy rn. Nothing special. I’m thinking about him. He’s pretty, like ofc, guys are usually handsome and hot and all that. While he is DEFINITELY all that, he’s also pretty. And I mean that in a way you say “pretty boy” like someone who is cute and cuddly and kind and handsome. Tbh if he were an icecream flavour he’d be bubblegum or vanilla. Why two so damn different ones? Well bubblegum is his favourite. And it’s so like him…when I first had that icecream, (and yeah if he was food he’d be icecream) it reminded me of childhood, and just the whole absence of purity and innocence and joy…I can’t describe it but it tasted the way playing hopscotch felt…and that’s a lot like him, sweet, funny, nostalgic, comforting. Whereas for vanilla, I said that because well quite frankly, I love vanilla, (my favourite would always be caramel but still) you can never go wrong with a vanilla flavoured thing tbh. Plus it’s customisable, you can add a *ploop* of caramel on it with some fruits maybe? And it tastes awesome. Idk vanilla is just comforting to me, again, not good with expressing feelings tbh (it’s the autism)
Vanilla is like something you can lean on. Like when I don’t understand any flavour I just go with vanilla. I can lean on it for support if that makes sense there’s nothing that can go wrong with vanilla.
He’s like that.
Idk what it’s about him but he feels a lot different than other people I’ve met. With people I’ve had crushes on or been in a relationship with, I’ve always felt this rush of excitement and all butterflies and all yk? But with him, while I do feel those (OH DEFINITELY whenever I look at him for the first time on every video call, I have to hold my breath he’s just so damn pretty) but he feels very comforting to me, like I know him. Idk that’s the best way I can describe it, talking to him feels like we know each other. I’m so shy, the first time I talked to my ex on call I did not speak a single word on the call because of how many butterflies I had (yeah I loved that guy) but with him even if I don’t wanna /can’t talk, I somehow go ahead and invent it. I don’t wanna stop talking to him, I never want our time together to end.
And tbh, I just don’t mean that just cause of romantic love or something, it’s very genuine. Not *just* romantically. I love him like the way I love my best friend, I just have a bit of romantic feelings too. If that makes sense.
The way he talks and the facial expressions he makes, man I love listening to him and observing him. The way his accent gets all mixed up when he’s ranting, even though I have a bit of a trouble understanding him then, I love it. I’d listen to it on repeat. May sound creepy lol. I’ve written poems about people, and intellectual paragraphs, but the thing I’m writing rn is the most genuine thing I’ve ever written about someone. I genuinely love him, and not just in a romantic sense.
Huh I’m thinking if I do decide to give him my ID 💀 what would he think if he read this…? 💀💀
Doesn’t mean I’m gonna hide it though, I love him, and that’s the truth. He has to deal with it 😂
While a few people (2) before him knew I have a blog I’ve never actually shared my ID with someone. Yeah but I do wonder, what he would think of me if he ever decided to look through this thing. Would it change the way he looks at me? Maybe. Well we’ll see…but hey if you read this whole thing, just know that some of the things I’ve written down here are written in my most impulsive depressive moments, I do that, I speak weird stuff just to get the impulsive thoughts out of my head, most of them I don’t even believe in later. My mother always told me to get the impulsive thoughts out, and it does help so. Tbh I never filter out this blog, it’s one place I feel my most authentic self. And if I do end up sharing this with you, I just want you to know me for me too. <3
Well whenever he calls me up it means so much to me tbh, he showed me his sketches, he just makes me feel loved and so does Zainab. Like both of them, they make me feel so loved, and I’ve never had that before…I was always told people always hurt you, and they’ve done that, but these two just…change my perspective on things every-time I talk to them. They care about me, they LOVE the fact that I talk so much when all my life people told me to shut up, seriously both of them tell me to talk more like can you believe that
I love these two so much, honestly both of them won’t even realise how much I love them. They’ve been with me through my worst moments and it seems like they have no intention to leave any time soon. Man I just love them so damn much. They make my life worth living tbh.
Him tho…tbh I can talk more about him..idk for how long I’ve been typing, sitting behind this door, but rn it feels good to do it.
He got so happy when I told him we could have a *chance* of meeting, I don’t think I would ever be able to imagine he was so happy if I didn’t hear it in his voice. Man…it’s just so hard for me to imagine someone being so happy to see me. It made my heart melt, I wanted to cry and hug him so damn hard.
I don’t think I’d be able to go tho, situation at my friend’s house isn’t that good.
I’d hate to break it to him…but we’ll hopefully I can visit him some day. I really do hope so. Ok if I get the college I want I’m going on a solo trip to see him. I deserve that.
Tbh I also wanna know what he thinks of when he’s looking at me or talking to me…like I REALLY wanna know IM SO CURIOUS
I WANNA KNOW EVERY DETAIL DAMMIT
I doubt it’s as elaborate as mine 💀😂
Tbh that’s also kinda fascinating to think about how different/similar (I doubt that) our thinking is. Must be fun to analyse it lol
And now my buttcheek hurt from sitting on the floor to long. See that’s the thing when you have a flat bum. No cushion support
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"there was no sense of foreboding - no dimming of the sun, no foreshadowing of the arrival of death at their door. Perhaps the universe should have designed to provide such warning."
-Scythe
"the question is, what colour will everything be at that moment when i come for you? what will the sky be saying?"
-the book thief
"i witness the ones who are left behind, crumbling amongst the jigsaw puzzle of realisation, despair and surprise. they have punctured hearts, they have beaten lungs."
-the book thief
"grays love life and anything that reminds them of being alive. salt, sugar, sweat. fighting and fucking, tears and blood and human drama."
-ninth house
it keeps coming round to this one fact. we are all going to die. everything we ever did will not matter anymore. i saw it all unfold once more....and this is how it went down.
death sure does have a flare for the dramatic doesn't it?
everytime i have seen him, (which isnt much...) it's always like this. the person lying there in their own pee and shit, the smell filling the room, and the sweat beading on them like idk what. their eyes glassy and their mouth open, the veins popping out, their skin so pale and glassy, even after still having blood...
rn i can hear his wife howling in pain, confusion, at the absolute absurdity of it all. that's all you can do when you have such a close encounter...i hear the family, loud and clear through the walls. their collective voices almost resonating in my ears, begging to be heard. the screams, the howling...of course i can run from it...go anywhere where i can't hear them, but somehow i cannot move. where will i even go? i will never be able to escape the fact that i saw it all happen, i met him once again, and looked him right in the eyes and heard him laughing at me. laughing at all of us.
i'm just paralysed right now, fixed in place. like in a trance, listenig to the screams, and my father's angry yelling for me to drink the coffee he made me, the truth is, i hate the coffee he makes. i'm eating an apple, it tastes so alive. i can hear my cat meowing in his gentle voice and my sister meowing back. it's all so alive...the crying, the screaming, the yelling, the meowing, the apple.
i put on my headphones to block out the noise...because what else can i do? it all happened in front of me, i entered to room after i heard the screaming. i saw him lying on the bed, pale and withering. his mouth and eyes open, with a strong scent of death all over him.
they always smell like that.
i saw his head on three pillows, first removed those to level his head so as to get the circulation back into it. then i checked his pulse and i knew he was dead, gone, finished. i could see him standing in the corner then, just staring at the chaos unfold. i could have told his wife what had happened when she asked, but instead the aunty beside me told her that he still had a pulse. he did not. i did CPR...making my compressions two inches deep. then my father came and took over, he looked at me like saying "is he...?"
and my eyes betrayed the truth.
he stil did the compressions, i stood with his wife, letting her cry in my shoulder...her repeating the same phrase my father was repeating when maa died. it all came back to me in that moment, and all i could do was laugh...that's all came aout of me. a small chuckle at this game. everytime the same.
his wife, in her grief told me he was happy and well just a few moments before...he had just met with his son, who did not live with them anymore.
the other aunty came and told his wife to shut up because if she did not, bad things would get into her subconcious. and then they WOULD happen. but i think bad things wont come to mind unless they were happening. our subconcious tells us eberything, prepares us for what is coming. it translates us the song of death.
and i am sure everyone in that room knew what had happened, but we still tried everything we could. i went in the room where my father was vigorously rubbing the man's feet and hands, and doing CPR, even when we knew it won't do anything. the ambulance wasn't comng anytime soon, so we decided to take him to the hospital ourselves...father told the aunty to park the car downstairs, we tried to pick him up, but his limbs and head were limp, so my father told us to wrap him up in bedsheets and make a stretcher/cradle out of it.
we did, then my father, me and a few other men pulled him down about 50 stairs...my father told me he'd pick up the body and and push it in the car and i had to pull. i did, i folded his knees and we put some pillows near his neck. it was all for nothing ofc, except to provide a relief to the family that we did do everything to save her husband.
and then they were all gone to the hospital, and i was left to go home, and i called Zainab.
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“सोचे बिन समझे जतन करता ही जाता हूँ,
तेरी ज़िद सर आँखों पर रख के निभाता हूँ,”
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….sach hai.
Duniya mein mai maan sakti hu har aadmi mujhe chod sakta hai….
Wo kabhi nahi chodegi.
Har ek baar….har baar mujhe uski zarurat hui hai, wo mere saamne aake khadi hui hai….ab ye nahi hai bhagwaan toh mujhe nahi pata phir
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