I was asked by a super extroverted person yesterday that "how do you write so much"
And like. I can't talk about my feelings. Physically. So i project them onto my characters like a sadist. That's how i write so much. It's not that girl in my book struggling with hyper-independency but me. Its not that boy mourning his loss of hope but me.
Surprise, its all me.
Fuck, this hit too hard, god no đ
My mama didn't raise a quitter..
She didn't raise a winner either so imma do the secret third thing and rot in my bed đ
AINT NO WAY, DIED, STOP CALLING ME OUT LIKE THAT
Told her to undress me, she showed me my jee ka result kyuki nanga to usme bhi hua tha
I read this line over and over again and sometimes I wish, it didn't. Sometimes, I wish hope didn't come easily to me. Sometimes, I just wish your comforting nihilism and words of how it shall all turn to dust either way appealed to me naturally.
I walk around this world and as I grow, I learn more of it. I see the destruction, the ruins we send our environment into, the hatred that spreads like a deadly poison, the bigotry, the complete breakdown this economy is having around us, the rich become richer and the poor only grow poorer. The divide, the ignorance, just the sheer amount of misery-- Misery. The common affliction to human condition.
And yet, I hate to think, 'Nothing will change'.
It would be *so* easy to. But I cannot.
Because I don't know what happens next-- then how can I say it never changes? Never will?
We don't know what will happen to everything.
What do we know?
That it will all eventually turn to dust.
Might as well turn to dust bearing some hope. Trying what little we can, bringing change in the little corner of the world. Maybe, just maybe the world will learn.
Because if it all ends, then what's the harm in hoping?
There are two ways you can live your life-- as the ignorant one. Ignorance is, in itself, bliss. To never let yourself be aware of the wretchedness of it all.
And as the aware one. To be aware, to be conscious, to be critical and slowly feel yourself become jaded. It is the more painful way.
But if history stands as evidence, it is the critical one who challenged the status quo. The critique who dares to hope for better has always been the one bringing change.
"I look around and see the misery. I look around and can't help but be aware of the futility. But I still clutch kindness closely to my heart. I still hold on to humanity and its dynamic ability to change. I still hope.
Because to hope, is to live.
And to live without hope, is to live a miserable life."
Re: Hope might come naturally to me, but even if it did not, even if it stopped being the case- I will still choose it.
Crowley's expressions of love in season 2
Bonus:
Pleading for my exam tomorrow to be cancelled. Can't study jackshit atp. My mind is cooked.
Well. Now to get more serious.
As an indian, this entire india-pak conflict has been enlightening about one thing- other countries don't give a jackshit. Nor does global. In the sense that, the pain india felt due to Pahalgam can never be translated to you.
Disclaimer: I do not hope for a war or escalation. I am just tired of seeing people talk about this stuff in black and white terms.
I am tired of entire narrative with this, "ahhh india attacked civillians!"
Civilian deaths are to be mourned. They shouldn't happen. I pray for their families but the attack was never targeting civilians- unlike what Pak did last night. Which I will get to shortly.
So, it was a calculated retaliation (on terrorist sites) to Pahalgam which was fucking horrific and bone chilling. The entire country was chilled.
And yes. Pahalgam is backed by Pakistan. It has been a pattern. Here is a video to get you started on this mess, entire history of kashmir conflict and what not. The history of terrorism. It has sources linked.
Let's get to last night now.
I live in the state adjacent to a border one. My hometown itself was one of the places which was rained by missiles. My family could hear the blasts, the crackling noise till 2 am. My baby cousin was crying scared. All was dark and the only light was of missiles.
Pakistan attacked civillian cities, alongside the ones with army bases. They did not give a fuck.
I don't know how it isn't clear what the country is trying to do already.
I am just so sick. Hoping no escalation happens. We don't need a war. No one does. But stop painting India in red. Pakistan isn't the victim. They haven't been from a while.
Final words? Asking the common citizens of both countries to stay safe.
Yeah. I love some of Taylor Swift songs but she isn't as driven by activism or political correctness as hozier AT ALL. Hozier uses art in its most superior way- to not only make others feel, but bring whatever little change he can.
What else do you expect from a guy whose every third song is about feminist ideals, fuck capitalism or worship women, hm?
just saw hozier live and he thanked everyone for using their hard earned money to come see him and support him. yeah you would never find taylor having that sentiment.
for reference my ticket was 80 dollars.
the cheapest ticket i found for taylorâs upcoming show was 549 dollars. (i compared multiple third party sellers)
and i havenât even mentioned how all art is political. and how hozier chooses to uplift ceasefires. he encouraged us to contact our u.s. representatives. how is opener (a black queer person) thanked hozier for creating a world where itâs safe for her.
I looked everywhere, the deepest depths of media, mangas, anime. From novels to games. I dived in the darkest depths of ao3 and I have discovered that Luke Pearce and Rosa are the epitome of the "childhood friends, seperated and reunited, to lovers" trope. Fight me. ITS NEVER DONE WELL, THIS TROPE, BUT TOT DOES IT PERFECTLY. FIGHT ME. THE ANGST, THE FLUFF, THE YEARNIG, THE PINING, THE SUNSHINES AND THE DARKNESS- ITS ALL THERE, WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT??
Introduction or something, i think
She/her, a student who also writes.
Queer/Aroace.
Constantly hyperfixating and analysing.
Intersec Feminist.
In too many fandoms to list or count.
Occasionally games (tot/gi/sdv)
Marius Von Hagen Enthusiast.
Hobbyist writer (crime stories/satire/dramedies/fanfics). You can find them all on wattpad or ao3.
Or you can simply scroll a bit down and find a poem or two I scraped together.
Side-blog for reblogs mostly: here.
[Currently reading: TGCF vol 5, Gone Girl.]
[2025 reading count: 17+ books and going]
Current Status: recovering from burn out.
TGCF spread I made because why not? [Its messy. Just like, gods, humans and ghosts alike. Trust. (Totally not because i am bad at crafts)]
Art creds;
saadix.art on insta, for hua cheng icon above
(will edit and add later, cant find) xie lian icon below
rest are official arts or from manhua!
VOLUME 5 MOMENTS THAT I ADORE (HUALIAN MY BELOVED) (ft. TINY HUA CHENG!!!!!)
1) Xie Lian watched him in a daze, not speaking a word.
Hua Cheng frowned slightly. âYour Highness, youâŠâ Suddenly, Xie Lianâs free hand reached out and pinched Hua Chengâs cheek. Hua Chengâs eyes widened as his face changed shape from the entirely unexpected squishing.
ââŠGege!â
Xie Lian laughed. âHa ha ha ha ha haâŠsorry, San Lang, but youâre too cute; I canât help myself. Ha ha ha haâŠâ Hua Cheng was speechless.
2) Hua Cheng clasped his hands behind him. âYes. Iâve endured this for too long. I canât wait any longer.â
Just as he finished talking, Xie Lian slipped his hands under Hua Chengâs arms and lifted him. He raised him high in the air and laughed.
âItâll be such a shame! I wonât be able to pick you up like this once youâre grown again. Iâd better hug you as much as I can right now. Ha ha ha ha ha ha haâŠâ
3) Xie Lian held Hua Cheng even tighter, and his hand smoothed his hair.
4) Hua Cheng reached out and lifted Xie Lianâs chin. âHis temper is certainly nice, but mine is bad. No one but me can touch the things I love.â
5) âTry touching him, I dare you,â Hua Cheng warned frigidly. âDo you think I would so easily allow you lot to touch my heartâs dearest treasure?â
6) Only a single âhaâ had left his lips when Xie Lian flung out his silk bandage; it whipped out so hard that Pei Ming was almost sent flying. He only barely dodged with a backward leap.
âYour Highness, just how deeply do you treasure Hua-chengzhu? Canât even take a joke?â
~~~~
Ps. I LOVE PROTECTIVE XIE LIAN.