me.

Memorising every small detail because all you'll get is a morsel is a level of devastation in heartbreak that is its own genre of grief

Thread count on the fabric of the universe must be insane

If Harry's safety was in question and he was underage for the triwizard tournament, why did no one advise him to throw it away by botching each challenge?

Sometimes prayers being answered looks like getting off work early, going shopping just because and trying out a bakery which turns out to be super yum

Call me crazy but Ecosia browser's whole shtick was we would plant trees for n number of searches you make, right? So does their care for the environment only stretches till planting trees 'cause why the fuck do they have an AI mode?????

Love is so sneaky. I wish I could string up a sentence more eloquent but there is no other way in which I can delineate how love literally sneaks up on you. One moment you're laughing, cracking jokes, being annoying, holding hands, walking together and the very next you find your mind screaming, "Oh, how I love you." And precisely because it takes you by surprise is why it is so scary. Balancing on the precipice of to say or not to say continues until either it slips from your lips or the timing is blatantly obviously correct for a confession of this proportion. There is no other word which would encompass how off-guard you are caught when your mind halts, almost short-circuits, and completely rewires itself because there is no way it is happening like this, so soon. But it does. It has happened and there is no going back after this. Because your mind is insistent, almost quietly but you feel it all the same. You know that even in the silent moments, the realisation sits with authority, having carved a throne of its own.

I think it's beautiful that children play around tombs that house the remains of important people long gone and mostly forgotten. All we remember about them is that they were important. We do not think of their achievements when we see the tombs fallen prey to the chirping feet of different birds. We do not think of their role in ancient courts when we stroll in the gardens surrounding their final resting place. We do not think of the kings who would have stood in the exact same place as us as we look up towards the sunlight or see the light reflecting of the now almost derelict piece of architecture which now only resembles its once loud grandeur. We only think of now, here, the present. And coincidentally, that is exactly when we find ourselves the closest to everyone who would have initially razed down the ground to commemorate people who are no longer here. They thought of now, they thought of how important it was to build something which lasted ages even if the names for which it was built didn't. They thought of forever while never really realising how everything meant to withstand time would end up burying the ones who were meant to be immortalised. And maybe that's the biggest relief to someone who has left; peace. To be there, quiet even if the world moves on, around, smiling, laughing, marveling, never stopping all the while witnessing something which long ago did.

The sun the warmth the birds the grass the breeze the laughter the calm the quiet the ristle of leaves the sun the sun the sun