darshan

Literal good and evil are bifurcations of the less abled, less lived mind. For those who've dared can now see both in every person around them.

Everybody goes through pains. Some go through it willingly. It's the art of fooling ourselves that keeps us alive. We attach meaning, purpose, eras, mindsets, grief, nostalgia, undeniability, powerlessness and more, to gaslight ourselves for the pain. In a way, it's necessary. To keep on living with ourselves. Deluding oneself is the greatest achievement of man to survive in the human world that has become.

Conservation of Love

Paint. It makes things pretty. We cover our walls, our cars, our canvases, and ourselves with it. We do it to please our eyes. We do it to cover what's beneath. To hide the ugliness we see in the world. We do it to forgo acceptance.

A piece of charcoal would, of course, understand what a burning log is going through. Wood is suffocated to turn to charcoal, suffocated while burning. And why — so that it can burn later, beautifully, without smoke or smell.

Crying is just an allergic reaction to life.

Philosophy is the inquiry on consciousness and all its encompassment.

It’s been hard. Sleeping. Lately.

People regret a lot in life. Words unsaid, blind trust, harmful decisions.

Grief is the greatest memento of love.

After a point, your drunk is as good as your company.

I just want you around me instead of in my thoughts. It's as simple and as complicated as that.

Which is more insufferable — grief, or not loving anyone enough for grief?

That's the thing about women. They cry when you hurt them. And they cry when they hurt you.

It's an almost-sickening feeling that travels underneath your skin. The familiarity you feel when the wrong person knows you too well, and you know them too well. And the worst part is, they weren't always the wrong person. Now, in the current circumstances, you don't want to know them too well. What do you even do with all that in your head? It's a sweetness you wish you never had.

I miss the exact ways in which I was cared for. It's a comfort that's lost forever. Doesn't matter if I end up with the same bunch again. They're not the same, and neither is their love.

Remember this. I will always remember you as the person you were to me. And I'll continue to do so till you change it heinously. For I can't let the person I love die, even though you have.