Midnight Musings - Tumblr Posts

It hit me right in my heart man-

the fact that i'm no longer the same age as the protagonists of novels and films i once connected to is so heartbreaking. there was a time when I looked forward to turning their age. i did. and i also outgrew them. i continue to age, but they don't; never will. the immortality of fiction is beautiful, but cruel.

Tw: self harm

Broken mosaic

Broken like a mosaic, this grief is beautiful.

Cold as a grave, this silence is peaceful.

A pain drenched tartarus was what made childhood.

A longing filled asphodel is what makes life cruel.

Sinister evil spirits, they whisper in the dark.

Cold harsh voice, it will shatter up your heart.

The silence kept saying with such delicacy.

But mind kept begging for sincere secrecy.

So close your little eyes, home is full of ghosts.

Hide your own self, it is terrifying to be known.

Shred your skin, once again you'll be filled with relief.

One last cut; an eternity of sleep.

And at the end,

I was only left to stare at the girl with tear-stained cheeks,

Every night, who silently weeps.

Since almost everyone here is obsessing over moon pics, i couldn't hold back >_<

Here's a thing,

The Moon goes through different beautiful phases yet it is admired by everyone. And just like that we also go through various phases in our lives. The moon may appear as half or in a quarter but that's its appearance on the naked eye. However, In reality, the Moon knows that it's complete and beautiful irrespective of how we see it.

Darling, the Moon goes through

phases of emptiness to be full again,

And we love the Moon,

regardless of its phases and scars,

Then why don't we love ourselves,

But become so harsh?

~sk

Qalam naaraz, kehta aagyi na yaad phir!

I feel it in my heart, yet i fail to describe

I don't want these noises anymore,

Let me drown in the depths of a sea, where the peace awaits me.

I wish to delight in the serenity and calmness of the sea, away from the world, away from the people.

You're alone, but in the company of millenia of thinking.

Everything seems to be at peace at night when you are in the company of your own thoughts.

I belong to you

In my solitude, it's just me and these intricate things. I won't call this feeling home, yet I feel this is where I belong. In this space, where I lie amidst these scattered notebooks on my bed, in the light of my antique lamp, trying to word out my feelings, this is where I belong.

Little do I know that, being alone feels good, but it never feels right, not to me at least. I might not feel the same tomorrow when I wake up. Maybe I would end up feeling like a loner but, right now, I feel complete and I think that's enough, for now.

One of those nights a burning desire to love and be loved is ever present.. a raging bonfire in my chest and limbs....

I don't mean romantically. Not fully. Dates are cute and all...

But it's not what I'm thinking of.

I'm thinking of the kind of friendship you only read about in novels. Friendships stronger than blood, friendships that shatter worlds and survive cyclones. Forces of nature and loyalty that even God shakes in his shoes at.

It's you and me, there's nothing like this.

That's all I truly want out of life. I'd happily die a virgin if it meant I get to live with a group of loving friends.

Hey, you... You with the self doubt...

What if the colours in your eyes were specifically picked by an artist?

What if our stretch marks are paintbrush strokes left over from when we were painted into being?

What if our faces were individually sculpted exactly as they were meant to be?

What if the freckles, spots and patches of colour were paint splashes from other's artistry? Where my skin has darker freckles, they're paint flicks from someone else...

Where our voices are music and our smiles are contagious, snippets of joy placed into each and every one of us

What if the wrinkles around our eyes symbolise a life well loved...

What if the pattern of scars that litter some people's skin tell a story of beauty, healing and survival?

What if we're all art?

What if we treated one another as art?