Unwinding Heart

Hellooooo, people. I’m feeling grateful for all of the things I get to listen from all of you, after you read my blog. Special thanks to everyone, really. Towards the end, you’d know why I’m being so grateful. “How many wounds did you endure because the person holding the knife was the one you loved?” ~Nipuna Mehta I got my own version in my head just after reading this: How many wounds are you willing to endure so that the person holding the knife would love you? don’t blame me, if it’s gotten a lil' dark yes, i’m still the same girl who wrote the previous blog, hehe Just because you know that some people will just never be ready to love you for who you are, doesn’t mean that you don’t crave it. Of course you do. You freakin’ do! at least i do a hell lot Just because I’ve become the woman who knows how to choose the right people who I can love and be loved back as well, doesn’t mean I don’t crave love from the people whom I love. sweet disclaimer: this isn’t about romantic love It...

Hellooooo, people. Hope you’re doing okay. If you’re doing great, all credits to you. If you’re not, all credits to the situation.  hehe, i smiled, did you? I’d been overwhelmed for so long that I kept wanting to unwind my heart here but have you ever tried picking up a bucket brim-full of water and taking it from one place to another without making ripples in the water? When you’re filled up with different emotions, it’s hard to point one out without stirring the other ones. Sometimes, writing it down to talk to all of you instead of actually talking to someone in person feels easier. If this is hard for you to imagine why would this be easier, consider yourself luckier than a lot of people, ‘cause mahn! It’s really getting difficult to find people who actually get it. it? i mean, anything and everything nobody gets nothing around me Yes, I’m grateful for the people who love me enough to see I’m hurting even if they don’t know why. Am I really asking for too much if all I want is ...

“People aren’t homes, they never will be. People are rivers, always changing, forever flowing. They will disappear with everything you put inside them.” ~Nikita Gill Hellooooo, people. It’s been a long time. I’m here. Again. After all, this is where I unwind my heart. And you witness it.  you’re going to continue this on your own will and really i feel so burdened with the thought that you  somehow are reading this just ‘cause of some obligation to me or maybe i’m just thinking too much So, as said above, people are rivers, I think I’d be considered a river too? Inside, there’s this beating stone, called heart, it’s trapped with so many lil’ stones around that neither are they crushing it completely nor are they giving it space. This beating stone is struggling to.. pump life to the rest of me.  Ask me what has happened? Nothing.  Why am I in this feel? Probably because I got some time to myself and I looked in. Guess what? I neither knew how to swim nor I could brea...

It doesn't matter in the end where and how it started; sometimes all you remember is where and how it ended. Let's not begin from the beginning. We know twists are inevitable. Skipping the part where I was enjoying, let's come to the part where the end started. I was trembling in a corner of a dark room, surrounded by two walls, and two lovely strangers. They were practising, hard, throwing knives to a target. As far as I remember, they missed their target a lot and the wall behind me was bruised; they were beginners, I felt. Twice, it was just near the target but still not my neck even once. A pile of knives was at my feet, and I don't remember anything sweet. They were dedicated and didn't stop throwing knives, even when it was so dark, plus, their target wasn't steady in corner. They sometimes were just about to hit right, but my hands acted as obstacles just fine. I didn't know how sharp the knives were, until one scratched my neck vertically just right ...

Hellooooo, people. This is a rare piece. It’s an early morning write-up. Whatever you have ever read, almost everything was an evening or night write-up or just woke up from a nightmare kind of write-ups or poems. Once the day passes and the time to go to bed gets closer, the emotions get stacked up high. not sure if that’s just me though The way everything replays in your head – everything that has happened in the day – until you are lying down on the bed. For someone like me, who feels so much, I’m more expressive during my night conversations. And oh gawd! Don’t get me started on when the layer of filters between my mind and tongue starts fading away as I get sleepy. those who have had sleepy conversations would know, rest of you can just imagine this to be a more honest version of a person but more adorable than they usually are Still can’t believe that it’s a morning write-up. And if I’m not gonna write about the emotions I have collected in the whole day, then what am I going to ...

  “I believe in poems as I do in haunted houses. We say, someone must have died here.” ~Rosa Alcalá Hellooooo, people. I was determined to write a write-up which would be the conclusions of how to deal when things you don't deserve happen to you. I even had those things in my head so ready. I hadn't figured the words I'll speak in but I remember being glad about having something positive to write instead of expressing the grief I was in. I thought I was doing okay now. But guess what? Not only I have realized that I never really got the positive words in my head – it was a fleeting moment of clarity – but I also realised that the grief I thought would fade, is actually much deeper than I myself realize. If you feel alright when you're alone but get uneasy around the people who hurt you, then you're not really alright. And, when people who hurt you are the people who you've not chosen yourself, being alright gets even harder because you cannot really “take your t...