Plant some sunflowers on the eaten out part of the edges of your heart and blow some clouds of self -appreciation on the revolting thoughts of your mind.
Stand in front of the mirror. Breathe out on its surface. Let the fog cover it. Make your favourite pattern on it.
Stop the rush. It isn't necessary to find answers to all the things at one time. Let life unfold itself. Patiently lay in its lap and enjoy what you have now.
Don't always push yourself in the corners of the bed and stuff your face inside the pillow. As much as you let negative thoughts take a hold on you, the more they would control you and your actions. Indulge yourself in things. No, you aren't running away. You just aren't letting the wrong take over you.
Don't try to change yourself all at once. There are certain things and toxicities in us which need acceptance and change. Moulding is a process which takes time. It will not happen in one click of the finger. Tongue and heart will twist. Creases on mind and forehead will line up. So wait. You will get through it.
Skies, sunsets, this nature, they are unpaid therapists. Ready to listen to the unvoiced thoughts without plunging their knowledge on you. Spend time with them instead of finding solace in fake supports (even if someone is giving you support without any mean reasons still don't depend on anyone.)
There arrives a time when you aren't vulnerable or grieving, you're numb. In the walk of life, our feet hit a certain numbness from all the previous things biting on our skin and you don't feel like taking anybody's hand for support. You don't want to move, you want to stop, you aren't regretting, you're just exhausted and it's okay. Sometimes in this series of exhaustion, we end up pushing back the people who care for us, adding up to more guilt. Try to be polite with yourself and with them. This particular time isn't waiting for any positive words written in yellow, this time only needs your politeness towards the situation. Just don't forget to take long breathes, drink more water, read more poems, politely tell your close ones that you want to be silent for a while, spend time looking at skies, search where your passion lays, eat the food which makes you feel good and there you go. You would soon be back to yourself.
Can you stop for a while and admire how you have reached till here even after going through all the times where you felt like you couldn't hold on to yourself for too long. Situations have shattered us and we have always moulded into a better and strong human after all that shattering. I know shattering takes away a lot from you, it's not always about 'this situation made me mature and this is all I want in life' because there are times when I question myself what do with all this maturity. But then I look back and realise that situations didn't just make me mature, they turned me into a person I wanted to be. Life is still the same, it's just my way of looking at life has turned better. Every situation cracks a layer inside you and takes you near to the real 'you'. You wouldn't feel it right now and you wouldn't be able to feel it if you keep on dragging past regrets with you, if you keep on cursing life with each step you take. I have held onto past regrets, I have allowed the fire of the past to burn my present oceans and regret is what I got. Please. You have to do so much in your life for yourself. The dream job, the person you want to become, all the things in your to-do things are twitching to be ticked by you, whatever you have thought to do while life holds onto you. Please, hold onto life too.
You have been handling things well, the amount of mistakes, problems and other things would never define how you are handling life instead how well have you been handling yourselves after all the breakdowns does. You can anytime change definitions. We are humans and my papa says that we only have 20% role in whatever happens in our life, then why to worry about that 80% which isn't even in our hands. Us pondering on that 80% just lessens our chances of getting out the best we can derive from that 20%. Light wave, high tide, low tide, whatever it is you can handle it well. Trust the process and yourself.
Following are the comics and beautifully motivation delivering accounts you can go through when your mood is off because we don't everytime feel like taking it out, we sometimes let it violently remain inside us.
* wheresmybubble * Grant Snide * Emily McDowell * wawawiwa comics * Liz climo comics * Yumi Sakugawa * The sad ghost club * @espoir_ (a beautiful mirakee account recommended by @/sereiin)
(Leaving the last account above are not mirakee accounts. They can be found by googling or on Pinterest,instagram).
You can comment beneath if you know any such accounts, I will add it here.
Death takes away a lot from us, though it's the functioning of life still the void it leaves behind continues to be there for the rest of the life. A hollowness and numbness persist to be there.
It's not easy to see your close one, hit rock bottom after they have lost a loved one. We probably don't know how to react because we are afraid that we may hurt them if we don't respond or react in the way needed.
After reading some articles and asking one of my dear friend about how should we be there for the person who has just lost someone close to them I wanted to share some points with you all. Of course, everyone has their way of reacting to such situations. Some voice out their emotions while some become silent.
If they are silent then don't push them at that time to voice their emotions. You've to just let them know that you're there for them. Don't keep on asking questions. Give them time, let them come around and give them their space but just don't leave them alone.
If they are voicing their emotions, then listen. The more they will voice their emotions, the more they will be able to accept the painful fact. Let them cry, let them be angry, just be patient with them.
Now the common things you should do, 1. Don't compare their pain. 2. Don't say 'I understand' unless you have gone through a situation similar to that. 3. Don't tell them how to react. 4. If they are still not over from the death rituals then choose not to call much but just text because at that time they are already busy with people from all around calling them. If you can be there physically then nothing can be better than that. 5. Once the death rituals are over, they start feeling more lonely. So don't disappear. Stick there with them as much as you can. 6. Try to indulge their mind in things they love to do. They would start losing taste in everything but you should make sure that they don't stop seeing the good around.
Such times are difficult, do take care of your mental health too.
Also if you want to share your points, your views on how should one be there for their close one then you can share it in the comment section.
Dear @poeticgirl It's not always easy to understand emotions and to form the right words to guide the person standing in the midst of chaos but you did that beautifully. We all have our own chaos and we all have figured out our own solutions, our own ways, our own experience and when you share a part of your soul to light hope in others, it's the most pure thing I feel so.
Hope isn't the solution but hope is surely the path to the solution.
Sending colourful skies and hope to your side
Ps- if the words in the bg aren't clear to you then you can read this hope note by poeticgirl in the comment section of the 1st post under the #hopenotesbymirakeeans2 tag.
Dear @sublimeaway This hope note of yours is such a therapy to my chaotic thoughts. Your words appear like the shelter I would rest under when a storm outbreaks inside me. They feel like a path I would take to walk back to my lost home. Chaos and life keep on going, what matters is what you learnt from chaos and how you implemented it on your life. Thank you
Ps- if the words in the bg aren't clear to you then you can read this hope note by sublimeaway in the comment section of the 1st post under the #hopenotesbymirakeeans2 tag.
Dear ketki, Though you rarely come here but you always manage to sweep us off our feet with your very beautiful aura. Your account looks like a place where I would very much prefer to stay after a heart tiring day. Your words are paper planes flying high in the sky inside my flesh. Thank you for writing this hope note ❤
6th March , 2021 I prefer fiction not facts. The End. My last words to you..
I smile to read the place where I still write ‘you'. ~There are void in word ‘love' we felt complete but I don't carry guts to recite the conflict between the space we need to complete.
~I see the photographs are burned with rust, but those colors of small things are still shivering with the warmth of you being close to me.
~I take a sip of coffee at 2 A.M under the lantern of memories cause they give me a spotlight that you are happy not being around my arms, and then tears and a small smile satisfy my urge to survive.
~Whenever I search for my heart, I find you floating within my blood, but as I try to hold my heart, the blood turns white.
~I smell the silence when I hold your t-shirt you forgot to carry after the vacation of lights we shared, mom told me to return that T-Shirt to you cause it won't fit you after ages, I always say her that I forget to return you, but I find a synonym of peace there.
~We met each other now, cause of elders around, but actually, now we don't meet each other ‘we' fear, ‘ what if one of us have forgotten to read the attachments in our eyes' or else ‘ what if we filter our feelings' and sometimes ‘ what if you pretend to love ‘ us' and forget to love ‘ oneself'.
~You know there are moments I open my notepad to write something called ‘my love' and end up being a stranger to myself, those letters don't make us fit together in the dark screen of my cell, and if I try to fix ‘us' together they are filled with emptiness.
~You keep reminding me , I was old enough to think about diamond.But if anyone else plead you to erase my marks from your heart, you will prove my count of belief a faded one.My sunk decisions are too weak, So they wake up everyday to run and play with you in words.I feel sometimes I won't be able to reach a perfect room were writer depicts it's love. I'm not perfect one, I know, I won't be ever. Everyday when I see a new person learning the language of love, I pray they kiss their destination. A destination were flood and sunshine is shared with the validation called ‘ we will stay with each other till end'. But when I see that same person falling apart from star “destruction love", my eyes feels tired to read there pain. My heart bleed to see how a beauty of love ends up a healthy person into a deep breath of hate . I have seen myself growing from birth of your affection and ending up away from home of my own. I won't find you again floating in sea of saltless thought, and I request you to write a perfect reference of salt atleast in life of your attachment, ugh I mean love.
~I love listen to‘ AB KE SAWAAN' on loops, cause their story and our story goes same with few different shades and griefs, but their love survived till the end and here I don't think so you will give it oxygen to feel free and I will never give it a chance to place it in front of the mirror and in between, we will die suffocating for air and reflection.
~ Whenever I type my name on the keyboard, the g- board suggests the next one of yours, which gives me a sarcastic smile but I have deleted the suggestion so even though the surrounding wants us to be together, we can respect our decision of being paths apart.
~ They say “ grow through want, you go through", but I didn't grow up, I just kept on digging your thoughts in me, as it makes me feel better constantly and continuously.
~ I won't forget you, as you are the longest spring my lungs have been drowned into, your stories are fresh here just like the softness of your voice in my call recorder as well the audio recording of the last song you wrote for your “ FOREVER".
~ A few days back when I went to the garden at 10 p.m, I saw an old lady with her husband staring at the sky with old diamond views and romantic young soul, I smiled a bit looking at them and just took my vision to fairytales where we both are peaceful sitting at Nariman point with the wine bottle in one hand and listening to the silence of waves. We did visit there together with elders, I remember we both walked holding each other's hand on the paving of Nariman, if you remember, that day you told me about all your dreams, what all you want to achieve, and I was happy seeing your excitement for dreams, you know what makes that walk more special, the way you said to me, “ you too have a place in my dream", my still got heart sinks to find the true meaning of that sunset, I just wish that walk could be for a lifetime, I just wish, you know.
~ The map of our road was inland from your end, I did know it had limits, I loved the way those roads had a sweet destination with the blissful wind, but I never thought that those ways will end up with such an accident, making myself realize that I was drunk while taking this road, in between my heart was in core process to come out of every shock., I pray every day, for space where there will be you to reach out the new destination, a place where you will be happy with the legal claim of your dreams, I know I won't be a part of it anymore but you know I just wish you find all-star of your life.
~ One more thing, a small message for your "future partner", do tell her, you will right? Of course, I will meet her, but it won't seem appropriate I giving suggestions in form of a gift to her on the wedding day, she already has my precious jewel. Nevertheless tell her, that don't were mogra in her hair, as you are allergic to the fragrance of it, and also tell her how beautiful you write! , cause she will be happy to listen to those shayari's from you. Don't worry I will be the part of your wedding. 'You' and 'I' are a little secret. I won't tell anyone ever, you trust me, right? I will be watching you from far away while you are taking "Satpadhi" and promising her to make her your lifetime. My soul will be helpless, will you do one last thing for me at that moment, just look at me for the last time portraying that cheesy smile, for which I fell for, and then hold her hand tight, so I can leave the hopes and start writing for you again. One more thing, Just keep your heart blooming wherever you go, just don't let the particles of innocence fade away cause of anyone, you are precious to me.
~Today, I grew 18, and 'we' are 10 years old. Might be you wouldn't be remembering it that 10 years flew like a breeze of cold air, I know responsibilities have punched your back badly, but you are capable to survive in his too, I trust you. You know what's the funniest thing 'we' were stepping into teenage of ' us' the 11th year, but per the human tendency of teenage phase,' teenage soul is fallen apart, broken and ached', our 'we' also have beaten with scars, It hurts right?
~ I thought there are still vocabulary words that can hide you in my poetry, but I guess they are pleading me to write the pronoun ' you', that's want keeps me breathing, the soul of my words have died back then but a ghost of it till haunts to smell those homeless essences every night with the presence of रातरानी. ( periwinkle) in my balcony
~ I have been covered in blanket of snow, you are cold air ,do you remember the first time you came close to me, you were shy , I was shivering , we are willing to kiss but my soul splits , we can't kiss.I stopped but you respected me ,my views , I was cold with fear but your one hug with words , ‘ hm, hug is beautiful , right?' that itself was warm. I found myself around your arms . that moment our lips didn't but heart kissed with true love.
~ Today , we met but it was not you anymore,when you wished me 18th , there was silence, your hands around my arms were warm, I felt like hugging you , but my belief denied to do so. You are sitting right in front of me,I'm shivering to type , but ain't afraid to see you. Today we are together, I'm waiting to hear you, I'm sure tonight you will find a word of last day. I'm completely fine but mess is dead I guess, she is dead.
~ If someday, I start hating you na, I will try hating myself first, I'm not a self harmer, but life had few circumstances which makes me feel that I'm the culprit. I keep finding way out saying I'm not sure what things will turn out tomorrow or might be they will end up breaking all my limits. I'm trying so that I can be normal, but I can't stop making me feel I'm weak. I still keep the hope that when I will come out of this I will be little more strong by mind and spirit and more weak by heart .
Life is a bunch of ups and downs. Often, it happens that nobody seems to understand what or how we feel. There isn't anything so unusual about that, because in everyone's life, they themselves are the protagonist. And believe me, it might be our mistake often, to expect them all to understand us. See, when at times, you come across circumstances when even your self becomes incapable to accept the way you're, I guess, it wouldn't be wrong to turn around to those little things of our life, which indeed know us the way we are. It might be the books we read, the pencil case we took to the exam hall, the emptied fountain pen, the wrist watch you wore for years, that one dress which has been deserving a good place in your wardrobe, just for the name of comfort, the broken paintbrush, the muddy sport shoes, the colorless painting on your wall, the dry plant in your garden, the dreamcatcher you made for you, years back and got abandoned or even the toy with which you had played when you were 5. Just that they don't have life in them, but they will never be able to ignore you the way living beings do, because you'd made 'em yours, although they were lifeless. Just imagine. Had they been alive, would they avoid you the way others do? No. Never. I mean, for me atleast, the textbooks and it's torn cover knows how much I'd worked hard, just for example. So I guess, stopping to expect support from everyone around and starting to accept these few things in your life, which made your life complete, would make your life a heaven. A paradise of hopes and love and harmony, where the gates are closed for hopelessness and worries and solitude.
Standing amid the ocean and the monsters, and still struggling to find shore, not just for ourselves, but for many along the way, you know? that's how we all are. We meaninglessly try to find demi-gods amongst all our trouble-makers and once we reach shore, we may fail once more to realize that it wasn't actually but which caused the tsunamic waves of perplexions.
For the writers amongst us, , we keep writing and writing to let all the pain vanish transiently, at the least, for me personally, it felt like a loop of and coming one after the other and myself, a hopeless admirer of art, who fell into its blackhole. And you know, Einstein wasn't wrong about blackholes either, that they evaporate. Yes, every bit of trauma disappeared like, uff, and nothing remained or just me. For a second or so, it might seem like solitude. Intense frightening loneliness and its way more anticipating palpitations, hitting to and fro between laughs and tears; but mind you call it solitude because purely it is a state of from all the integrations of unnecessary enthusiasms to fall for the knife-edges of dreaded distractions and from the differentiations of all calories, made in a way to fall apart, so seemingly naturally, alike the petals which wither off from a fertilized flower.
I mean, yes I agree, is totally a state of euphoria disguised in anger, fury, aggravation, outrage and what not, but believe me, all you need is the of the emotions and how they settle down and in addition, a of healing from intense invisible trauma. As a writer, just a totally flummoxed writer, penning down absolutely meaningless metaphors and null personifications, (quite often only do I compile personifications) the way to the state of seemed blurry and often opaque.
But when Supriya dii @hopenotes__ wrote "Taking breaks is totally okay" I felt vacuum inside. It was a totally different experience to be one and feel something else and may be, I guess, such weird moments of (I would call) are the perfect starting points for, not change, but to know that what's needed is there in handy with us.
I confess, that often some mistakes may change us totally, and for me, they were committed not by me, I know, but as long as, nothing seems to change and none seems to admit, what's the point in recollecting the past day by day and shouting aloud, blaming the past? I wouldn't say, anything has completely healed the scars, but atleast the tears have ceased playing and they now kind of, either flow like a river or just don't come at all.
To be a part of the healing process, goes through several stages of screening and I guess, I began from taking a break from everything I was a part of. And believe it or not, writing was the first one from which I took a break. To heal wounds, also mean to stop getting hurt by them and each time I wrote about something or the other (even now) it caused hyper extra-ordinary mood swings. As if I was riding on a to conquer the sky and the underground. Each time it hit back and forth, it's frequency and velocity increased the pain rather became worser and worser. So it's like the graph slowly goes up a little with a positive sl(/)ope and then phew!! It goes down with a terrible breakdown. Curving the graph upwards isn't possible stopping it there is a better idea. I hope you get what it is about, it is about writing and writing and only writing about pain. Initially, it heals. But later, it's like pouring acid on the scar.
So the best way is to stop and be a part of the process. Try to put back the pieces of your puzzle, scattered all around you. Try to connect the dots and get the idea of the big picture.
Literature has always been a reflection of society. While some writers like Charles Dickens had mirrored the flaws of society in his works , poets like William Wordsworth tried to pacify the chaos of the age by writing romantic poetry. Thus , writers are always studied with respect to the age and society they live in.
--Today, write a creative prose or poetry that reflects the 21st century mindset and society.--
And sometimes, you are meant to love the black holes inside you. The entirely dark side you have been hiding, which literally sucks up everything you have. 'Cause they pull yourself towards it: your transient smiles, but your perpetual pain too.
You are meant to love those ugly stitches in your body leaving you with a scar for which people take a look back at your wound. 'Cause it eventually teaches you to ignore the rest and focus on the people who would caress it. It teaches you to love that mark, for you have been old enough regretting over it.
You are meant to love your tears which you couldn't control in front of them. 'Cause even if it made you feel weak, you learnt to cope up with the taunts off their mouth for you have been blessed with the real shoulders of your lifelines.
I am an amber dawn and this is my orchestra, so gently close your eyes, you will start the process of allowing yourself to enjoy a nice level of trance. Listen to the notes, as the light breaks the horizon. Now imagine yourself on an uninhabited, alluring planet, let go the heavy load, low tones, the vibrations pitter pattern, wringing out the old rag. Picturize yourself out of the vicious circle called time.
Time was where you existed, here, in this space, I've banished your physical form and have printed you to only 2 dimensions. Weave messages as memories, engraved as memorials into the air. There are no labels or symbols to burn your lungs, so breathe as much as you want, as long as you desire, pat pat pat the cadence of your character, presses beyond its own boundaries and establishes new limits.
Look at the empyrean above, as bars of sunlight create glitters of dust; powerful enough to grip your demons. There is no such thing as time, so you have the eternity to ponder the philosophy of life. You long for nothing, no one, no, more than that you don't have to fight for yourself.
You are free, from furnishings forbidden, by all ethical code of conducts. A glow across the sunset, causes a glow across your face. This is the land of dreams with infinite possibilities. As the dawn sets the scene for the ethereal planet, you become boundless.
Now, when I tap your right shoulder, you'll come out of the trance and at the count of three you'll open your eyes, feeling relaxed, relieved and finally free. Now open your eyes;
I am a lie, no, not a liar, nor am I the personification of this subtle sin. I am not a masquerade of truth, nor the pharisaical silence; that lays in my conscience. As my definition fades to evanescence, only one thing remains, I am not the liar, I am the lie.
Wandering around the dusty corners of my soul, you watched the gathering layers of sandy words heaped off my skin, just because I chose to remain idle. My lips twitch, craving to sing the unsung lullabies you wrote and left for me in the attic. But, the lumps in my throat repudiate, consecutively obstructing the voice out of my caged heart. I scream in pain, but only the papers in my table could hear it all. The tears dried in thier lap, still rhymes over my metaphors. And I watch them through the burning candle, how strong they would keep the fire. The flames jerk out in blue, and instantly, anyone would know the answer.
Keeping track of the heartbreaks I encountered, was no less than counting the falling leaves in the autumn. The dead butterflies tucked inside those heavenly, heavy books... I feel them lurching with the ink, being smudged on their body. My hands tremble with the thought of me being related to them. Pain didn't scare me anymore, the bliss preceding it did. I have walked on the sharpest shards of the broken glass, which once carried the elixir of expectations. My feet have spurted the darkest of my blood, slowly mingling down with the tiny drops of expectations splattered.
Never fall for a pink sky , it never lasts . It's human to expect but experiences help us better differentiate the real and fake and let you know it is worth falling for only the real ones that stay through thick and thin.