The tragedy of being an artist is having to withhold a thousand souls in one body,
escaping only to conquer or to be doomed...
Such keen observers, how reticent to the naked eye,
yet, overwhelmingly exposed, aggressively honest, spatially present,
as if to mock oneself...
How January of a month to birth a poet in me ~
- Astha, "I should've painted my face blue", 18.01.2022
I wish to walk through crowds of people , and to be filled with a sense of sonder and disbelief as to how I'd be able to access the most fascinating of stories...
I didn't know of people being placid yet devoured ,in times of uncertainty, writing prophecies of each other's doom...
Lines that start with "If I could ...." are so painful. They remind me of emotions I've experienced before but haven't been able to confess , to my own self or to anyone ever , their anger and fear borne numbness wording long dead dreams into a broken sentence , drawing parallels between a world we drew as kids and the one we lived through gasping for the very colors we were promised...
I wanna be a cat so bad
I want to...runaway
Loneliness in Cities
Art Medium : Charcoal Drama : My Liberation Notes (2022)
I need to stop deactivating my social media accounts and calling it therapy
I want to disappear
:(
Walls,
I wish I could walk through them...