I Kinda Wanna Be The Girl Who Does Things. Like She Goes To Class, She Studies, She Does Research, She

I’m plagued with an exhaustion no amount of sleep can fix

the plane

He asked me when I fell in love with him and I knew it sounded dramatic to say the moment I saw him, so I told him this story of my grandma who had Alzheimer's- she forgot her name and the words for fruit and food, she forgot her address and how to use the washroom, all her life lost to the disease. The only thing she remembered was her son's name and when that began to fade, the one thing she always remembered was that she loved him, even in illness, even in insanity. She saw this 6 foot 2 man with a scrubby beard and she didn't know him but she said she trusted him, she asked him to hold her hand when she died. When does memory end and love begin? All I know is- she loved him before she remembered him.

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire

Doot Doot :3

another doot doot hmmm 👀

i do not ghost purposely i just have no idea what to say ever

"yOu hAvE aLrEaDy lEfT kUdOs hErE" BITCH STFU NO I HAVNT YOU WHORE

childhood was so crazy. my parents were kind of young. a meal seemed to last forever. i could run for ages. everyone was alive

the day i get rid of my crazy fear of failure and my procrastination, it will be over for you all.

The synopsis looked good

the cover looked nice,

You opened the book,

and began a new life.

You found a new home,

you met new friends,

You kept on reading,

hoping it would never end.

You danced through the pages,

you sang out the beautiful words,

You felt all their joy,

all their pain and hurt.

The pages cut your fingers,

the words cut your heart,

Like the author had a knife,

and was tearing your soul apart.

You laughed with the characters,

and with them you cried,

You fell in love with them too,

but with them you died.

A catch in your breath,

as the climax grows near,

You become deaf to the world,

the book's all you can hear.

You're completely lost now,

Or perhaps, you are found

In this strange paper world,

that's far from the ground.

When the book reached it's end,

and your broken heart couldn't heal,

you just suddenly realised that,

all this was not real.

This is what it is like reading a book.

Your world becomes an interwoven web of words, stringing limb to limb, thoughts and images altogether. Paper and ink. Black and white.

- by Shweta Amirapu

x - x / x - x 🍃