I Wish It Were Enough To Just Exist, To Just Be Alive..

I wish it were enough to just exist, to just be alive..

If I'd known that I'd grow up and some day want to draw a tardis on my hostel room wall, I would have learned how to draw a very long time ago 😂 nevertheless, here's my tardis ❤

Evenings.

I like evenings more than I like mornings.                                                                Mornings feel like a struggle.Everybody waking up, getting ready to face the day and it’s problems. the whole world bustling with sound of people getting back into their routines.

Evenings are different.                                                                                            People going back home after school or their 9 - 5 jobs, leaving all of the worry behind. Even the sun takes it down a notch.

 The world settles down, and breathes.                                                               The people stop rushing and slow down.                                                           My heart is at peace while we dwell in the enigmas of twilight. 

Sometimes I like try draw random scenes I see in movies. Small things that I see in the movies that I watch, that make me want to stop and look at if for a little while. They just make me feel something, a kind of longing. There's a word for this, but I cant recall for the life of me xD. My drawings aren't half as accurate as the actual scene but when I look at them, I am reminded of what I felt. It could be anything, a vending machine, a garden, a traffic stop, a street like in this one..

Self harm

What is self harm?

The act of injuring oneself, with the said intent.

Why do we do it?

Because sometimes there is so much pain, so much suffering, so much anger inside, that we need to get it out. We won’t take it out on those around us, we know how it feels and we wouldn’t put another person through the pain we felt.

So what do we do? We take it out on ourselves. We know we shouldn’t but sometimes we aren’t able to think.

I remember nights when I sobbed quietly when I wanted to wail, get it all out. I couldn’t. I took it out on me..

I scratched and I scratched till I bled. And then I did it again, and again, and again.

I’ve stopped now. I found friends with whom I could open up,Talk to about what goes on inside my head, cry as loud as I want  and for as long as I need.

I’ve found my solace in other things. I write. I water color. I may not be that great but it’s something that keeps me sane.

If there are people out there, and I know there are because I was one of them, who hurt themselves to keep a sane mind, don’t. I know it sounds stupid when I say it. Find someone who’ll listen, pick up a hobby, find someone to talk to.

And if you don’t find anyone, talk to me. I’ll listen. I’ll be there for you like how my friends were there for me.

Love.

@goodoldlamp 

Hope, that’s where I went wrong.

You were my first. I didn’t know what love was.

I didn’t know what it should’ve felt like.

But I’d hoped it felt like you.

I loved you, with everything I was. I gave to you everything I had. I knew you inside and out. You became a part of me.

And I’d hoped I were a part of you too

It wasn’t always a bed of roses.

We had our ups and our downs, but we fixed it for each other.

And I’d hoped we always would.

Each time time we fell apart, I was always here.

Even when you walked away, found others, more than once, I was always here.

Because you came back to me.

And I’d hoped you always will.

But you didn’t.

You killed the love I thought you were.

You ripped me right out, like I were nothing more than a button in your life.

And you walked right away.

Maybe that’s where I went wrong, I hoped.

I’d hoped to receive the love I gave.

Or maybe it was that I waited.

I couldn't walk away. Even though you did.

No matter how I tried, I couldn’t.

Because I’d hoped, deep down I’d hoped, you and me would be what we once were.

Even now, a year after you walked all over my heart, I see you, and I hope.