“everyone Is Going To Hate It” Someone Will Love It. Someone Will Reach Out To You And Tell You It

mine already is.

2022 might be "2020 too"

tell me how am i supposed to move on when you keep a showing in my dreams every night; you stand before a beautiful scenery but before my arms reach you reach you, blood starts trailing down the waterfall over the mountains and the sky turns the deepest colour of the vine   my father likes to drink. you turn into a rotten corpse trying to choke me to death. then i wake up.out of breath, drenched in sweat. i collect my sheets and hold  them tight under my feet. wrap my blanket over my head. hug my knees to my chest. i keep shaking until the sun comes out; even the thought of sleep has haunts me now. so do the memories of you, carved upon my spines where my arms do not reach.

At 40, Franz Kafka (1883-1924), who never married and had no children, walked through the park in Berlin when he met a girl who was crying because she had lost her favourite doll. She and Kafka searched for the doll unsuccessfully. Kafka told her to meet him there the next day and they would come back to look for her.

The next day, when they had not yet found the doll, Kafka gave the girl a letter "written" by the doll saying "please don't cry. I took a trip to see the world. I will write to you about my adventures."

Thus began a story which continued until the end of Kafka's life.

During their meetings, Kafka read the letters of the doll carefully written with adventures and conversations that the girl found adorable.

Finally, Kafka brought back the doll (he bought one) that had returned. “It doesn't look like my doll at all," said the girl.

Kafka handed her another letter in which the doll wrote: "my travels have changed me." the little girl hugged the new doll and brought her happy home.

A year later Kafka died. Many years later, the now-adult girl found a letter inside the doll. In the tiny letter signed by Kafka it was written:

"Everything you love will probably be lost, but in the end, love will return in another way."

That's two words. But,

CHAI

desi family in one word:

CIRCUS

Sometimes I just want to slap a random person and run away...

OMG I LOVE THEM WHYYYYYYYYYYY TT

I HATE WINTERS

anyway. onto better things

intelligent people turn me on

so, i become – cursed/morose/woebegone/crestfallen/forlorn/depressed.

I ignore my problems cuz I can't face them.

Professionalism sucks I wanna put "😭😭" in my emails.