I Wish I Were A Cotton Candy,

I wish I were a cotton candy,

the world- an excited mouth.

So I'd necessarily leave a sweeter taste,

even when things go down south.

-Vanshika

I have had two types of critics in my life.

1. "It is a negative point of your personality but it won't stick with you if you try to get better. And it does get better if you try hard enough. I'd be here to correct you and support you through this."

2. "Your this negative trait makes you the worst person I have met, in my whole life. I hope you die."

If I hadn't known better, I would have died.

My bones were right.

There have been days when I've felt homesick at home. Extremely uncomfortable in my skin, and felt myself burning in an air conditioned room. There have been days when I have adored a smile on my face, while my soul has danced inside. I have loved every breath intake, and appreciated the very type of my existence. I have had black days, and white days, like every normal human out there. And I have felt myself grow in the midpoint of the line, where the black has mixed into white. I have felt the chronological growth of my soul, and I have died the next moment. My life has been a thrilling adventure of contrasts. And within these adventures, I have lost myself and I have found myself, a little more than a million times. And all the predicament had led me into what I look in the mirror today. I am grateful.

You wait for me,

was the plan.

I saw you standing,

so I ran.

I could not believe,

people stay.

Warm promises still spur,

come what may.

-Vanshika Singh

I just can't get enough of the feeling of being perceived as just me. Me, the entity, the present me, the me that you see right now, at this very moment. Not the me at my worst, or the me at my best. When I am seen exactly where I stand, what I am at this moment. When they take me in right now. Remind me this is my reality. And not the one where I am busy fighting with my past regrets of doing things wrong, or future fears of messing things up. But somewhere in the middle where I know I am not alone, no matter what mess I make.

-An excerpt from the autobiography I will never write, Vanshika.