Subtle Kaleidoscope

I like being alone. it's like i have a full time to think about the good bad decisions of my life ; the times i created memories and times i ruined .it's like i have time to re-evaluate life and it's meaning, to re think whatever i did and i regret; things i am proud of ,things i am not. i love being alone. but yet when i see a group of friends chat over a cup of coffee, group of friends laughing while making weird poses fr camera, or best friends getting married, or a mom and daughter dancing on a wedding song. when i see these things, i think and i feel......although i love being alone......i dont want to.  Tht moment when you realise your usher love for sadness is letting you , to not let youself be the way you want yourself to be. you feel me? when trying to solve everyone's problem and doubts about life make you wonder how bad you have messed up your life, tht no extent of motivation can make you even a little hopeful . Tht even happiness scares you. you feel me? T...

  toska - (n.) a dull ache of the soul, a sick pining, spiritual anguish “it’s okay” “that’s alright” I find her saying this quite a few times; and I wonder how many times and to how many people she has being saying this all her life. To people who somehow screwed her up. You know what is ‘depression’? Naah… not that ‘I’ll die’, hundred pills, sleeplessness, pessimism, hate. Depression is not when you are clearly sad, it’s something that is inside. Sometimes the person is happy, talking, sleeping, loving and still, you know, they don’t seem lively. I don’t know if that is depression but it is surely something next to it. And she feels that. She feels this thing; ‘being absolutely fine and not okay’. I feel it that she feels this. You heard about that half empty and half-filled theory? That pessimist sees it as half empty and optimistic sees it a half full. She is that kind of person to whom if I ask this question, she’ll give me a fifteen minutes long lecture on life ph...

Whelve to bury something deep inside; to hide. the 'He'  (once wanted to say)   "I wish I wrote the way I thought; Obsessively, Incessantly, With maddening hunger.                                                              I'd write myself into nervous breakdowns, Manuscripts spiralling out like tentacles into abysmal nothing. And I'd write about you a lot more than I should."   I'd write to the point of  suffocation.  -Benedict Smith,        "l want to be a mystery, yet be known I want to be together, yet alone Is it too much to ask, to be famous yet unknown? To be a wanderer, yet have a home?" -Kara Douglas "they say lavender softens anxiety  and i wonder whether i can plant a garden   so dense in your mind that the knots in your chest unravel  and never tighten aga...

  minutiae /mɪˈnjuːʃɪiː,mʌɪˈnjuːʃɪiː/ noun 1. the small, precise, or trivial details of something No matter where she looked for love, whose lips she’ll ever touch; no matter how and when she’ll find that one, I’ll still be here. No matter who she shares her happiness with, I know, when she’ll feel sad, hopeless, tired, hurt, painful, lost, doubted or lifeless she will come to me. Yes, me. Not that guy she first met. Not that girl with short hair. But me. And that is enough. It is enough. For me to be there when no one is, is enough. To be able to share her tears is valuable than being the one sharing happiness. I wish to be the one who can make her smile when she is crying. I wonder how all one sided love songs are so wrong and unrealistic. They start with how one loves the other one who is already committed and how they can move mountains and swim oceans for them and then they end with cursing that one because they did not realize their love. This is purely horse shit. ...