#journalsofanaesthete

Aren't we humans fascinating?

We want someone else to tell us about the things we are capable of, we want someone else to like the parts of us that we don't even like ourselves, we want someone else to love us the way we don't love ourselves, we want someone else to praise us so we feel appreciated, we always want someone else but never ourselves. I read somewhere how beautiful it is that humans are just meant to hold each other.

But I don't think it's true. Because the only person who's meant to hold you more than anyone else is you. And the only person who will hold you from falling apart in the most difficult situations will be you.

Writers and poets are actually insane. They write their truth and call it art, so no one knows about their insanity.

Writing is not a hobby, writing is something I must do to survive in this insane world. It's like breathing.

और एक मेरी हक़ीक़त की आंधी है जो रोज़ इस दीप को भुजाने की कोशिश करती है ~ dishaa

Kabhi kabhi main sochti hoon ki kya tum bhi kabhi kabhi mere baare mein sochte ho?

Agar sochte ho to kya sochte ho? Aur jo sochte ho vo kis se kehte ho?

Kya tum bhi meri tarah apni kitaab ke panno ko humari kahaniyan aur kisse sunate ho?

Kya meri vali playlist aaj bhi sunte ho? Aur ab agar koi pyara gana milta hai to kisko bhejte ho?

Meri kavitayein sunke jo sukoon tumhe mila tha ab vo sukoon tum kahan dhoondhte ho?

Jis chand ki tasveerien mujhe bhejte the kya ab us chand ki tasveerien khichte ho? Agar haa to khichke ab kisko bhejte ho?

Tum kehte the meri ankhon mein tumhe puri duniya dikhti hai magar ab puri duniya mein tumhe jab ye ankhein nhi dikhti to kya karte ho? ~dishaa