Mutatis mutandis
Only making necessary changes without affecting the main point.

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Mutatis mutandis
Only making necessary changes without affecting the main point.

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The vast, open sky.
Limitless.
Us in our confined bodies.
Suffocated.
We look at each other, and serve as mirrors that reveal the opposite.
Sometimes structure trumps infinity. What if the sky wants it?
To be confined in a body? What if it's our true nature to be infinite.
Inertia
A quiet room, a quiet enemy. Waiting for you in the light. It dares you to move. You try. You take a step but then give up. It has seemingly pushed you.
Meanwhile, judgements pour in. A mother's eyes that can't fail to express their disappointment (no matter how hard she tries not to), fleeting gazes that whisper 'lazy' in your ears. You sigh. You say to yourself, "Next time, I'll plan better". You give it one more shot. You get up from the bed. Forces around you pull you back. No mom's kapoor cleansing won't help. You push yourself to move a little. To the other room... Where you don an outfit that tries to hide you. A hoodie, a jacket, unkempt hair, dark circles. It's waiting in the mirror to tell you to give up. You barely move. You've managed to come out. The light piercing your eyes. Gazes that bounce off your shoulders. Judging you from head to toe. The crosswalk wait is awkward. It's too much to bear. You make it to the other side. Another step, another battle... and inertia still gets away...
Inertia
A quiet room, a quiet enemy. Waiting for you in the light. It dares you to move. You try. You take a step but then give up. It has seemingly pushed you.
Meanwhile, judgements pour in. A mother's eyes that can't fail to express their disappointment (no matter how hard she tries not to), fleeting gazes that whisper 'lazy' in your ears. You sigh. You say to yourself, "Next time, I'll plan better". You give it one more shot. You get up from the bed. Forces around you pull you back. No mom's kapoor cleansing won't help. You push yourself to move a little. To the other room... Where you don an outfit that tries to hide you. A hoodie, a jacket, unkempt hair, dark circles. It's waiting in the mirror to tell you to give up. You barely move. You've managed to come out. The light piercing your eyes. Gazes that bounce off your shoulders. Judging you from head to toe. The crosswalk wait is awkward. It's too much to bear. You make it to the other side. Another step, another battle... and inertia still gets away...

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(Notes to self)
For real, A flower holds the least level of consciousness. But it's beautifully divine. Is consciousness a trap that the higher self is pleading us to let go of?
In a toxic relationship, but I am the toxin.
Small talkers: So office was ok and what did you do? What I want to say: I read about topology and consciousness and watched a podcast What I actually say: Nm, wbu
between stars and souls ⋆⁺₊✧ get wallpapers ★ twitter ★ art prints ★ support me

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Universe: Let there be light Neurodivergent peeps: NOOOOOO
I mean why can't there be answers to these gnawing questions that itch my throat! Imagine a painting, you created it. It's mountains, valleys, sunshine and maybe a kid in front of a house. You hang it and it obeys you. Through dust, heat, furnishing changes, it endures. Sometimes, it just hangs there, waiting to be seen, to be perceived. Maybe then it will gain a meaning. Some creations are beautiful, but they may suffer. Is it necessary? No. Now replace the painting with us human beings. We're probably unseen in the dark, seen or not in the light. Until someone's gaze gently sits on your existence, then you are. Then you become. Then you are not lonely anymore.
Nothing really matters. You, me ,she .none
Interested
in our own evil
God and I
play a game
of firing squad
and prisoner
laughing
and exchanging places
every so often
so that one time
God is the executioner
of me
and another time
I am the executioner
of God
blindfolded and smoking
last cigarettes
we poke each other
in our exit wounds
~ Don’ts for Boys or, Errors of Conduct Corrected, by an Old Boy, 1902

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Mental memorandum #1
Some things are just there.They exist with you and around you.These things scream for attention ,but you won’t even realise it cause its so regular and frequent. It’s only when you realise it’s gone when it stops making the sound and then you’ll know something like that existed with you.
Sometimes I feel smaller than small.