Miraquill
Break free
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-
barefoot
1d
Read MoreThe walls inside us
are invisible but
strong
They whisper to us
in our most
vulnerable moments
about boundaries
we must never cross,
formidable they stand
promising to keep us
safe from everything
that can break us,
Hardened by
the scars
that everyday life
forces on
us,
we build and safeguard
and finally fall in love
with these walls that
we slowly
but surely build
And then comes that day
when the walls
makes us our own
prisoners and
on that day
we feel like we betrayed the
one thing that had kept us alive:
Hope.
And on that day,
We could either break free
or stay imprisoned.
The choice is
solely ours.
Staying imprisoned would
Keep us safe
but lost and
Breaking free
would leave us
vulnerable
but alive .
And instead of being architects
Of invisible walls,
We could try
to be advocates of hope.
©barefoot
#break #wod
@writersnetwork @miraquill -
barefoot
46w
Read More
I don't know
if the walls that surround
you today has been kind
to you, and I don't know
if the cup of chai that went
cold while you had been busy,
went into the accounts of everything
you couldn't savour because
you had been just too busy or simply too human.
I don't know if anyone looked into
your eyes today
For longer than a moment
because it mattered to them. The light
you hold in your eyes. And I don't know
if you decided to take up less space today
because the world just
felt too heavy to hold you,
And I don't know if the blanket you
folded mindlessly today morning as you went over your to-do list had more creases because
you just couldn't understand where to squeeze in
life amidst your long list, and
I don't know if someone touched your life
like it was the only meaningful moment of
their day , and I don't know if you have grown
too old to wonder at the absurdity of it all, life I mean, and I don't know
if you are sighing right now because these
words mean absolutely nothing or if you
are smiling instead because despite it meaning nothing
You know now that someone out there is just as
clueless about the pulse of life beating within them as much as you . And I don't know if
these words will be forgotten just as we all are bound to be but I know that in this moment
You held it , these words, in your softly beating anonymous heart and for that reason alone , it is phenomenally fulfilling, the process of stringing together thoughts that
Will touch the mind of another life
That you can probably never know ,
but just simply embrace .
@writersnetwork @miraquill©barefoot
-
barefoot
52w
Read More
// A fairytale that brews within us smelling like the aftermath of a long war //
If capitalism wasn't a thing,
and if you didn't have to pretend
To know why you are doing
What you are doing , and
you didn't have to spend half
your present moment thinking
about everything the future possibly
holds in store for you and the other
half thinking about everything you didn't
do right to be able to attain everything
you are hoping to attain , and then you
scroll through the smart device in
your hand that offers you distractions
and solutions to get out of this ever
numbing race between the past and the
future and you come across a man dressed
in beige white telling you to just live here now,
in the present moment , trusting the universe
and all that other magical paraphernalia,
and you follow the advice for a blissful
few minutes before your body and mind
which has been trained again and again and
again ruthlessly but efficiently by the world to believe in productivity and race and competition and economy alone, gets back into reality
And you fall back again into the world of
climbing up your personal ladder to glory with effortless ease even without being aware of it
because it is what tragically feels most familiar
to you and then when your spirit is drained
And you walk back to that nook in your heart
That narrates to you a fairytale you can
temporarily find solace in , instead of the reality
That drills the fairy tale magic out of your
blood and dreams, you sit quietly by the window, and
listen to your heart brag about the magic that
awaits you and you listen with childlike
curiosity because somehow even with everything that has been robbed off you , you still believe
in a miracle, in a miracle awaiting you around the corner and
You somehow believe that if you just find
The courage to find meaning in the beat of your
heart instead of finding it in the identities that the
Society carves out for you to occupy , you will be
Able to wage your own silent revolution within your
Ancient mind that has been trained to slave away for a cause that means absolutely nothing to the life
in you and you somehow believe that if you just keep waging this revolution instead of falling prey to the promises of a bound society, for the sake of your own self, then one day you will be able to live in the present knowing
without doubt that it is a present you are glad to
be alive to because it is genuinely more beautiful than any fairytale you escape to in your spare hours.
And you know it came to light because
you chose to pick up the pen to write your own
fairy tale, instead of easing into the story the world
has written time and again in the blood of lost dreams and freedom.
@writersnetwork
@mirakee Thank you for offering a space for so many fairytales to take birth. You are exceptional ❤️©barefoot
-
barefoot
53w
Read More
It was half past
three when we
decided to vent our
feelings over a video call,
Half the day had passed already
between the same walls
and mind and chaos,
and time had spilt through my
veins like sand that I willingly
let go of
because the purpose of
building a castle with it seemed
pointless without you beside me
to watch it get washed away by
the ocean called life,
You were wearing the
shirt we had purchased on the day
we had roamed around the city
with just a book of poetry, two cups
of cold coffee and loads of anecdotes and
silences and moments of
unexpected togetherness.
I wished without saying
that I could
smooth
gently that unruly crease on your shirt collar, while
you spoke about the millionth online
meeting you had just gotten out of,
And you told me that you wished you could
hold my hand while I told you about
the way the sky reminded me of our love.
I could see that you hadn't made your bed,
and when I asked you about lunch, you said you didn't remember much about it.
It
hurt me then most of all
that I couldn't make you a cup of tea and
make your bed and read you a line from gitanjali before asking you to come take a walk with me while we let the day fall away from our hearts.
It hurt me that distance now stood staring at
our desire for oneness with so much alacrity and
we had nothing to fill it with but our hope.
But at the end of the call,
before asking me to stay safe and
ending our brief rendezvous with a formal
see you later, you told
me that the next time you hold me against you,
you would remember to hold me
a minute longer , and you would never again
take the moments we
share together for
granted for now you see that without it
everything, everything
seems bleak,
and I sighed and simply asked
you to
smoothen that crease on your collar
before
you attend that meeting with your colleague
you had told me about and
you smiled widely
And with that smile
You held my heart
instead of
my hand and unknowingly,
even with the distance and uncertainty lurking over us still , it all suddenly seemed alright for that single moment and I found myself letting
hope
dissolve the distance.
@writersnetwork @mirakee©barefoot
-
barefoot
54w
Read More
Let us take the
Long road home today.
Let us lower down the
window a little lower than usual
And let the wind dishevel everything
but our hearts.
And maybe we could then play that
song that reminded you of
the time you held music in your
blood like oxygen . And
When the time comes for us to
disrupt the
awkward silence with our small talk,
Let us bravely
let the awkwardness rip the mask
Out of our minds. And let us then
wait for our love alone to replace the silence.
And when you ask me if I remember when
the world had stood still for
A long time holding its breath,
And when you tell me that it felt a lot like
The world was hesitant to
come back alive, let us remember to hold
our hands like it
Is all that matters
and let us be grateful that
It did come back alive, the world, in fact
more alive than before, as
though it had dusted off layers of ignorance for the transient beauty of life, and now it stood
blazing with so much passion
and vigour and hope, that we
now didnt need to be reminded any more
That
To just breathe
is sometimes all it takes to
Belong.
And when we reach home late,
let us take a moment to
tell the world
That she is beautiful.
Maybe we didn't see it before,
When we had rushed towards our destinations,
Always taking the short route but now
That we had stood still long enough
and waited, for hope to make its way back home.
We know now
that she, the world is
Worth saving
And taking the time to get to know
her must be
our only
real purpose.
@writersnetwork @mirakee©barefoot
-
barefoot
58w
Read More
the sun hadn't
set yet when you
looked towards me
with that everyday glance
Of yours
holding a dried twig in your
left hand
To tell me that the world
didn't seem to excite you anymore.
I didn't look at you because
You had more to say and looking at
You would make us both pause at the
absurdity of our untold grief tumbling out
Like uncalled guests in the moment.
But there is this urge
within me to live, you see. You went on.
I don't know where its roots lay
but during those rare moments
When I declare that numbness is what I am
destined for , I see my old father pick
up the weeds in our garden like
It his children he is tending to or I see
my mother run her hands gently through the
Fur of the cat that follows her around
Or I see how life fits into
Each other like it makes no sense alone
because it never was meant to be a lone creation
Because togetherness was its only purpose
And,
And I see how it is all chaotically entangled
like it is an endless story
With a verse we each contribute ,
A verse that really holds no meaning as such
Unless it becomes a part of the whole story.
I looked at you as the ray of the setting sun
Illumined your face that was lit with love,
And
I couldn't comprehend how you always
started with the absurdity of the world and ended it
with the meaning of community. Like your
Heart held a cosmic ache to be held . By everything.
I looked at you with awe
because in this moment my life had just one
Meaning and that was to simply sit next to you and listen to you talk about life with its black and white shade
merged into a seamless gray love.
And while the sun set and we
managed to speak our way into peace,
I knew that the sun
sets every day like it
Needs to surrender to darkness to
Find its way again but the light in our hearts,
That,
That will stay alight
Until we see how
Life is
Here. Amidst and in and because
Of us. And in oneness lies its
Profound
Beauty.
@writersnetwork @mirakee©barefoot
-
barefoot
59w
Read More
//" It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society"- Jiddu Krishnamurthy //
So when the day
is done and you
have survived
through the hours :
Half mindful ,
Half unwilling,
And you are
Lying down in your not so
freshly made cot
In your dimly lit room
Staring at the ceiling occasionally
And occasionally filling
Up the leftover of the day scrolling
Mindlessly through the entertainment
Your smart phone offers you,
Trying to desperately
gobble it up like it
is what sustains your heart,
What really does it mean when
you reply with a fine followed by
A smiley when your friend
Unwittingly asks you,
How are you faring?
Does it mean you have settled
for the plainness
Since
you have
accepted it as a fact that
Life, yes life has to be this.
This script that repeats itself to death.
Maybe you have taken
survival for life. Maybe that is
Where the world has pushed us
To now. But in
The rare moments when
you are desperately trying to
Make up for time spent
fighting a war in the light of day
With the peaceful numbness of the digital screen,
And you happen to come across
Your heart telling you that ,
I am tired, and this is just so wrong,
Please
Don't numb it with self-love or positivety,
Listen to it, for it may be telling you
The truth, that this cannot be it, and
whether reluctantly or not,
ask yourself
If being alive is just this,
Or if it is a lane you have forgotten to
take because the whole world
was walking on a different lane and
asked you
To follow
simply because it seemed rational.
And you followed because it seemed
Less lonely
And sane .
And finally ask your crowded mind, if rebellion is the cost you
Have to pay for
Being alive,
Why be afraid, when life is
Price less ?
@writersnetwork @mirakee©barefoot
-
barefoot
59w
Read More
A recipe for preserving happiness
1.a vast field of love that is free
2.a brook of acceptance that life changes.
3.a hill of realisation that we can be broken.
4.a sky of empathy that has no trade value
5.a blanket of curiousity for our own pulsing desire
6.a heart of gratitude that does not carry remorse.
Mix the field of love with the brook of acceptance while trying to sift through the noise in the mind. Gently place the hill of realisation in the field despite the constant nagging of the world that asks you to believe only in perfection. While letting the hill settle into the field, stir the sky of empathy into the mixture with gentle understanding that we are all beneath the same blue unknown reality. While covering the delicious mixture with the blanket of curiousity remember to tell your self that there is still a lot of life left inside your heart, to be alive for despite every circumstance that makes you believe that it might be the end. And in the end , never forget to sprinkle the heart of gratitude for without it everything seems without a purpose really. Now place the field in the light of your awareness and let it sink in. When it sinks deep inside the cracks of your hurting wounds, let out of a sigh of relief and thank yourself for having the kindness to feed your own aching soul. And When your soul is fed, remember to serve your love and kindness to the hungry world too. You will realise that doing this heals your heart faster. Because in the end, we are all just aching to be fulfilled.
@writersnetwork @mirakee
img src: pinterest©barefoot
-
barefoot
59w
Read More
My grandfather was
sixty years old when he
told me that he had never
once told
grandma
that she
is the apple of his eye.
Why declare
love when it
Can be felt
he said.
I wonder
What would grandpa
say now when
so much is declared
but
very,
very little felt?
He would probably ask
me to look more deeply.
But how would I
tell him that the world prefers
blindness when it comes to truth
And love (both being
Synonymous)?
So if grandpa tells me to look
deeper I would
Tell him that I don't know grandpa.
I don't know
how to look anymore.
Grandpa I know will then ask me to
have faith in the universe, the same
Universe
that lost its sanity in the big bang
just to
Know what a
pulsing heart eager for love would feel
Like. And then
I would reluctantly say,
Grandpa but what if having
Faith seems
naive to me in a world that is
moving towards
A reality where love too could be
automated?
Grandpa would
then sigh at my foolishness.
And my near sightedness .
And tell me
that even today
even after he
has left the earth
grandma is the apple of his eye,
because even
Death failed to
Take his love away from
her even when his heart stopped beating.
And I would
Know he is saying the truth,
For even today
within grandma's tear
I feel his smile.
And his undeclared alive naive child
like love,
And so
just for the sake of that timeless
love
I will feel, look and even have
faith even if
It would be really
foolish
to do so .
For
why not
have faith in that
which remains unmarred
By death even?
Love
I mean.
#musing #temp©barefoot
-
barefoot
60w
Read More
Dear stranger,
I am not going to assume who you are and what you are feeling within yourself in this moment.
I don't really know if it is joy that life has offered you today or if it is grief that is making you question the purpose of life today. I don't know what your relationship with life today is and I don't find it right really to intrude. I don't know anything about you and that is why writing this to you feels like a beautiful undertaking because our relationship is not yet marred by a heavy dose of expectation or nostalgia.
I am guessing that maybe you want me to tell you that it is all going to be fine? This our lives I mean.
I don't want to.
I really don't because you would have heard this too many times and now I just want to tell you the
not so poetic reality of life just as I experience it every day in between the rare moments of glory.
Maybe then you can know that we, you and me are not so dissimilar in our extremely Ordinary lives which connects each of us in the most extraordinary way possible.
You see I walked my grandfather to the clinic the other day. While walking to the clinic to get his old heart checked I saw a girl holding onto the strong shoulder of her grandfather while alighting her school bus and I held onto my grandpa's hand a little tighter wanting his heart to live on for ever you see . For my sake. For the sake of my relationship with him. For love. I need his heart to keep beating. And grandpa just smiled in his ordinary way and I had to make do with this small mundane gesture.
Today I received a call from my best friend that she will be shifting to the other side of the world for her higher education. Now how am I to handle this?
The one with whom I had been my most goofy vulnerable self had decided to freeze that version of me within long distance calls. And in the most ordinary way she said that we will learn to make the distance shorter through the digital world . And I had to make do with this assurance.
All I am trying to say is that life is not that poetic.It really isn't. It is bare, it is vulnerable , it is open to errors, it is just what it is. And yet when you come to think of it, it is life too that gave me a grandpa with such a vastly kind heart even if it has grown old now, it is life which gave me a friend I am willing to time travel for.
So I guess in the end , life is
ordinary but that is exactly what makes it
so beautiful.
That something that is so beyond our human understanding
Can be so ordinary in its essence?
I just don't want to tell you that life is going to be fine you know? I want you to know that
Life is going to be everything.
Fine, not so fine, ordinary, extraordinary.
And that's why you are so lucky to be
Living it. Because you get to experience
Life in her entirety.
And It is my only wish that you come to have such a deep relationship with life that you embrace her in all her shades
and even love her more for it.
Through it all.
The ordinary
And the extraordinary.
with love,
barefoot.
@writersnetwork @mirakee #stranger©barefoot
-
_firefly
3d
Read More@lovethatneverfades here you go xD. Didn't mean to write thisssss. Kuch aur hi hogya ye ��️
#fly is it?
#fireflyec @miraquill thank you <3
Tomorrow will be good I promise.This summer evening tastes like
sour lemons dipped in sugar syrup
that I stole from my granny's kitchen.
The hot yet calming wind
kisses my cheek like a revolt,
searing my dry skin.
Dandelions fly around
and my eyes run after them
till I lose them to my finite sight.
My heart is hopping around
with butterflies, on lilacs and carnations,
perishing on peachy promises
of approaching beloved monsoon,
where my metaphorical wings
will be stitched anew by the rains,
and the uncanny scars will heal,
fresh hope will be brewed inside
the cauldron of my stomach,
the bottles of bloodied tears
hanging down the cracked ribs
will be washed and sterilized,
I will fly beside the blistered clouds,
roaring louder than thunderstorm
like the collision of two swords.
I will blow off the past candles
of igniting hopelessness
drawing unerasable joyful lines
of mesmerizing tomorrows.
_firefly -
soulfulstirrings
1d
Read MoreThe rainbow flag is a symbol of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender (LGBT) and queer pride and LGBT social movements. Also known as the gay pride flag or LGBT pride flag, the colors reflect the diversity of the LGBT community and the spectrum of human sexuality and gender. Using a rainbow flag as a symbol of gay pride began in San Francisco, but eventually became common at LGBT rights events worldwide.
Inspired by my daughter who is completing her masters in women and gender studies .. she's awakened and enlightened me to a world that we deem different but so deserves to be one with us ❤️
Refer -
nine yards of grace - is an Indian attire called saree worn by women
vermillion dot - is a red hued dot that adorns the forehead of most women in India
#rainbowandlove @odysseus_2Rainbow flag
drape me in rainbow colours ma
not blue or pink
for i am a child born out of love
belonging to the sky
let me wear this nine yards of grace
that covers your bosom
and borrow that vermillion dot
that adorns your forehead
don't cringe ma
don't be sad
let me be
let ME decide the colour of my being
just hold my hand and stand by me
let me pick up tangerine tints from this blazing trail of autumn
and paint my wintered life with colourful hues
let me be the spring that I yearn to be
not a flower to be trampled
but a garden of fragrant life
//drape me in rainbow colours ma
for my soul longs to be set free//
©soulfulstirrings -
Rainbow Romance
Somehow,
The rain knows
We are made of many colors
Of shades stolen
From the pockets
Of the sangria skyline.
Inside the parentheses,
LOVE flutters like butterfly wings
Sewing shy RAINBOWS
On freckled skies above us,
Barefoot,
We wander
Through enchanted forests
Searching
For fragments of wuthering forevers,
Tell me,
Aren't we victims
Of the bewitched moon
And the intoxicated night?
And if LOVE
Is a RAINBOW crown
I think it smells like Frangipani
Barely there, yet
Holds people and things
Together tighter than red string promises
And the laughing air could only swoon
Witnessing
A blooming chemical romance
Of sunbeams & raindrops
Never fading
Upon the arrival of the sun.
05.22.21 -
Break ..
not the worth of a being but mindsets that remain caged and confined midst hues of our skin and gender
Break ..
not the spine of humanity but boundaries that separate you and me
in the name of the creator and the four walls where we pray for the same peace and happiness only in a language different
Break ..
not the spirit of your daughters but the shackles that tie her tethered to baseless norms of a patriarchal society
setting her free to follow her heart
for a child is as precious .. be it a son or daughter
Break ..
not relationships but egos that multiply
out of lack of empathy
for tomorrow was never promised to anyone of us
it's just this moment that we can make ours ..
to love , live and shine .
©soulfulstirrings -
surefire
44w
Read MoreIt's December already
and the streets like usual
packed with shopaholics
and there is plenty for
the eyes to feast on, like
the flickering street light
and the shadow of the frail
rickshaw puller that wavered
as he pedalled up the street.
The mindless honking
of vehicles caught up in
the slow moving traffic,
the haggling between
the street vendor and
a middle aged woman
over the price of fish,
despite all the commotion
one could hear even
from a far distance,
train announcements
that reverberated
across the street.
The street was bustling
with people and the
vexations of everyday life
and somehow the chaos
is an antidote to my
loneliness for even the
chaos is some form of life;
it finds a way, it thrives.
©surefire.
-
surefire
50w
Read More
//When you said I will
never be your vegetable
because I think when
your're gone, it's forever//
- Chinese satellite by Phoebe Bridgers
She wishes to emulate
the Koshi river the day
when she would be on
the cusp of adulthood,
steadily making a
transition, hoping to
pull off an effortless
butterfly stroke away
from the austere teenage
that had her in its clutches;
a rebel in the making.
She wishes to swim
across this river that she
once fancied some day,
far away from the shallow
and she will know that
her time has come
when her soul and
the shore would only
be an inch apart,
and she would frantically
drape the waves
around her shoulders
and close her eyes while
on the cusp on infirmity;
an unconscious rebel
with a fist in the making.
©surefire
#sfwn.
-
branthan
51w
Read MoreThere is no reason to live and no reason to die.
There is no meaning to my existence
Or yours, if you want me to be honest.
I can feel my existence, parts of it, from the first memory of a child to some memory of a work I had to complete before I started to type this on a screen.
Where do these thoughts come from, I wonder?
A neural network simply spitting out word after another without a rhyme to make sense of this world that feels so personal or something I do not know how to imagine?
Perhaps, my brain cannot make the chemicals to compute the right answer. How do you know the difference between the right answer from the wrong one? Is there a difference at all? Our morality is simply the conditions that we've found useful throughout our evolution to ensure the survival of our species at large, isn't it? There is nothing divine about it, some chemical dictating what you are.
Maybe some chemicals are tricking you into these loops that never end, thoughts that never lead to an answer but contradictions. But these thoughts are yours, aren't they? You were supposed to be the one making decisions, the master of your own free will and your thoughts. What happened then? Why is it that you cannot stop thinking about the meaningless of it all? Why is it that you cannot escape from the stress, the lows the blues the misery, that random nihilism that hits you when all you want is sleep? Not a hug, not a conversation but to simply sleep, shutting down the thoughts the way you killed the machine with a click.
We act as if we are free as if there is a divine touch, a purpose, a meaning to these thoughts that randomly appear. It is hard for me to believe in free will in the sense that we've been told. We are never really free, always bounded by some simple chemicals, a simple probabilistic distribution of the existence of some particles. Some days you feel the high, some days you're never really sure about who you are anymore.
But why do I exist? Why do these thoughts exist? Why anything exists at all? Why is there something rather than nothing? Or is it simply a game of life simulating the game of life? A simple automaton that moves from one state to another.
Maybe I should correct myself. There is no divine meaning to my existence apart from the simple evolutionary learning where nature learns about the best traits that it finds suitable to survive in the physical system that the creature is embedded in. It gets passed down from a generation to another to another till it goes extinct and all this starts again. A mere learning algorithm inside a physical system that it can barely comprehend but stuck in an illusion of self and free till the inevitable end, dreaming of heaven that never arrives.
I suppose you will have your own reaction towards this existence.
Incomplete, inconsistent;
Explanations and contradictions branching
From one to another..
-
surefire
52w
Read More
//These are what they call
hard feelings of love when
the sweet words and fevers
all leave us right here in the cold//
- Hard feelings by Lorde
I believe, people tend to
remain a child at heart
for the rest of their lives
because the world can
only thicken your skin
it cannot alter your heart
and thence we meddle
with feelings purely out of
innocence and curiosity,
we all are fickle-minded,
we burn our bridges without
thinking twice and forge new
relationships in a heartbeat.
I believe, friendship is a
cobweb of emotions,
oftentimes only skin-deep
it's a tavern where you
embrace your eccentricity
and unconsciousness
while in a drunken stupor
and maybe every friendship
is bound to collapse like
a house of cards,
a change of mind
followed briskly by,
a change of heart.
©surefire.
-
surefire
53w
Read More
//Maybe that's what life is... a wink of the eye and winking stars.// - Jack Kerouac
When I step outside my
house, the sky seems to
be at arm's length and I
wonder if the clouds
would ever embrace me
out of the blue, then to
people who keep me at
arm's length, the clouds
would appear to be closing
in on me, out of the blue
like a thunderclap.
When the rain falls,
when the leaves rustle
and when you stand
sure-footed beneath the
rumbling thunderclouds
your mind thinks otherwise
perhaps the light drizzle is
another form of life that
tiptoed out of the heavens
and away from the
mundanities of life and
crashed into you,
like a thunderclap.
~on the threshold of a new life~
©surefire.
-
moitreyee 53w
Read MoreProgression
I'll write summer songs
along my bones
to carry her to a world
where lyrics won't hurt but teach.
I'll let her watch
how buds bloom
to make her feel
growth isn't a journey
to a haunted beach.
I'll sit by the buds
cheering them,
saying they are beautiful
no matter
what shape, size or colour may be.
I'll let her know
that men, women and non binary
are pillars
of a civilization
and that a castle won't last
without any of them.
I'll let her know
that beasts aren't the norm
and they deserve to stay
who treats them no wrong
I'll let her know
love isn't calculated
it's a wine
that lifts their soul
and gets better
as time passes by.
For all that fades with time
aren't true emotions
but silly desires.
-Moitreyee Bhaduri
"And I can be all the things you told me not to be
When you try to come for me, I keep on flourishing
And he see the universe when I'm the company
It's all in me. "
(God is a woman)
~Ariana Grande
Bg - One picture is mine, rest are from pinterest. I made a collab of all :3
-.-
#ignore xD
@writersnetwork @mirakee
Hi WN and mirakee . I felt like I had never thanked you people in the past. Thanks a lot for all you do. Thanks for making this place so homely. <3.
