As A Generation I Think We Should Simply Eliminate The Prestige Behind Dark Academia. I Am Broke. You’re

THIS

Afterlife:~

As the blinking lights turned pale,

And pulse rate slowly failed

to evoke a wave of life,

Her eyelids, remained open under the light;

Her lips, breathed its last,

With her skin and blue veins, fading lifeless, fast.

Her last she could see, her last she could hear,

Great darkness engulfing her,

Her family screaming in tears.

A heavenly peace, taking over her terrestrial body,

Her pain melt away, shes now a dead old lady.

A beam of light, from somewhere afar,

Taking her soul away, glowing brighter and brighter.

She approached close, and the light showed her,

A life she had received,never lived so far.

Before her she sees a child,

Screaming in tears,

"None but her!", hardly she exclaims in joy,

Her heart dropped, looking at the broken toy,

Her favourite one, she held it so dearly,

No toy could surpass, the broken doll's beauty.

Again, being taken aback by the light,

She faces a thirteen year old,

With eyes glowing bright.

She was amazed by her new nose piercing,

She forgot how she scarred herself, silently bleeding.

Soon she was placed before her adult self,

She met a lady in thirtie's,

Disappointed she felt,

As she was too obssesed with a perfect marriage,

She missed her daughter's first walk,at a tender age.

Shifting back, at that deep darknees again,

She sees a mirror, and a wretched reflection starring,

She meets an old lady, filled with regrets,

Regrets of never living a life, that

she was gifted.

All her life she spent on perfections,

Crying over things, out of her

ambitions.

Chasing the unreachable, she never lived the life,

Her mind was clouded with

"If"s and "why"s.

Old lady at reflection,laments her biggest regret,

The unrelished life of discontent, slowly faded.

If I'm the grief

You'd be my long lost sadness, buried inside my ashes of anger.

If I'm the scar, you'd be the dripping blood,

Your clotted barrier, shielding me unwrapped.

If I'm voiceless, you'd be my pen, paper and words.

And if I'm "love"

You'd be the unrequited before it, the hopeless, before my romance.

“If I end up in heaven and you’re not there, I’ll do all it takes to be cast out. - A. A. Roman”

—

|| June 18 ; 2022 ||

💮 Taking a chance to look back at the same time in the mid June an year ago, when this was the exact time I was wishing for an undo button for myself and was regretting my vulnerability. There was this strange utopian wish to turn everything upside down, and cursing undecisiveness, but here I am, an year later in this exact same date, sitting and chilling with monsoon. Though it's no better, but I believe I survived, all by myself, where I didn't have that hope to create my uncertain future anymore then, that I'm ambitious of creating this year, this time.💮

‘Do not go gentle into that good night, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.’

~ dylan thomas

But oh!... if it's you, I would never mind losing myself into your hands eternally or for a thousand times, and putting my heart away in every pieces and pieces and present them in front of you to play with.

💮 Basically there are always opportunities, if "others" are not there.

• Picture Credit: Pinterest

💮 It's okay to feel unsatisfied with what you love. We necessarily and unnecessarily grow. When it doesn't feel the best of you, you know you're turning better and better.💮

"Not everything is about you"

💮 Such a statement, both a pain and and a peace. As you're growing older you realize you're actually not the centre of the universe. You actually now have to stand in the line of topics like just other people. Theres an intense ache inside your chest that now you know theres more like you, more without you. You knew it, but not exactly knew it in a level of accepting it about you unless you've heard it.

But you're blessed in a sense, you're now not the one entirely focused on. You're not the imagery of everything. You're not an idol, a symbol. You're ordinary, with no anxiety of being controversial for whatever you state. You can disappear, be yourself, isolate yourself, because you're one of the crowd, and people accept you as imperfect. People will judge, wonder, but you're not a trending topic. Isn't that less chaotic?💮

◆|Picture Credit : Pinterest |◆