the uncertainty of a poet
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@thisiwilldecidelater
the uncertainty of a poet

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Can we pls, pls normalise calling the traitors as "Peter Pettigrew".
-Gauri.
Or "Wormtail"
While we're at it, normalize calling people who can't and refuse to understand hobbies and fandoms while putting on a facade of "normal" "Dursleys".
Had me rolling but yes please!!!!
Forever grateful for the wonderful series JK Rowling gave us and how it made our childhood memorable and amazing but here is my 22 year old adult version sitting in my room functioning on too much caffeine and too little sleep contemplating how Sirius Black deserved so much better than being written that way:
School life? One of his own friends betrayed him and the other two.
Love life? Never mentioned.
Family? Ousted him, disowned him and burned his photo from the family tree.
Majority of his life? Spent in Azkaban.
Only dream after escaping the prison? To have a normal life with his godson and he still didn't get that.
So the only comfort he ever got was the time he spent on his friends (Potter's) couch? How long was it anyway and not that it's surely mentioned.
You all can love and justify Malfoy's behavior all you want and no hate to him but it will always be Sirius Black for me.
-Gauri.
Forever grateful for the wonderful series JK Rowling gave us and how it made our childhood memorable and amazing but here is my 22 year old adult version sitting in my room functioning on too much caffeine and too little sleep contemplating how Sirius Black deserved so much better than being written that way:
School life? One of his own friends betrayed him and the other two.
Love life? Never mentioned.
Family? Ousted him, disowned him and burned his photo from the family tree.
Majority of his life? Spent in Azkaban.
Only dream after escaping the prison? To have a normal life with his godson and he still didn't get that.
So the only comfort he ever got was the time he spent on his friends (Potter's) couch? How long was it anyway and not that it's surely mentioned.
You all can love and justify Malfoy's behavior all you want and no hate to him but it will always be Sirius Black for me.
-Gauri.
I am not your first love,
nor you are the first person
I wished of forever with.
We have both loved and lost
and kissed with bruises on our lips.
I know loss like the back of my hand,
you look at me with strickening fear of grief precedent.
Yet our love crept amidst chaos
not in the darkness of night
to mask my loneliness.
That is how i knew,
every kiss tasted like forgiveness.
You cling to me like I'm your last hope.
I write sonnets where you bled once,
you stitch my heart back into one.
You sit there still,
outside my room of grief,
treating one wound at a time,
while i perform autopsy on memories of past lovers.
You're not afraid of my scars,
I caress yours with tenderness of rose petals.

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“They’re just fictional characters” ok then why do I feel like their heartache personally cracked my ribs?
Can we pls, pls normalise calling the traitors as "Peter Pettigrew".
-Gauri.
Mother, I did the dishes:
Mother, I did the dishes
Scrubbed them clean
Until my hands reeked of nothing but soap and regret.
As if those shining plates
could guarantee your forgiveness
for every test i took and failed,
ones that i lost to helplessness of my young age.
Last night
Your voice crashed with the door of your room
opening and closing for 16-
no, 18 times.
Accusing voices of you and father
fighting a war older than me
yet, no flag waved in sight for twenty-five years.
You picked a cheater,
called him a human,
dressed him as your husband
in front of others,
fed him forgiveness and love,
gulping his lies down your throat
All that, just for the show.
But he was just infidelity in person
behind closed doors.
Mother, I needed someone to fight for me,
maybe, I needed you.
He kept betraying
and you kept forgetting,
choosing a monster over me,
the one, only you couldn't see.
You saved your marriage,
perhaps that is good,
perhaps that is what adults are supposed to do.
But mother-
I was just a child,
not a wife,
and i needed saving too.
-Gauri.
“Our memory is a more perfect world than the universe: it gives back life to those who no longer exist.”
— Guy de Maupassant (b. 5 August 1850)
You should be glad you don’t understand why they did that to you.
I am—but what do I do with all this hurt they left behind, how do I make the wounds carved after their name stop bleeding? Not understanding only makes it more confusing, the pain turns inward and attacks your self‑worth, making you wonder what you did to deserve it. But understanding is no better, for then you recognize the cracks in everyone, you come face to face with the wounds they refuse to address, and you are left depleted—and even though it was never your fault, it becomes your responsibility to heal, just because you understand doesn’t mean you have to endure it.
-vesper

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When women claim that "it's all men," they are unraveling years of patterns and experiences. The men who take this as a personal attack are part of the problem. Why would you feel offended for something you haven't even done, despite knowing about the bone-chilling cases? Why would you bring up the fact that men get sexually assaulted only when women talk about their experiences? What kind of superiority do you chase when you bring up statistics in the comment section about how men are not safe too? Not safe from whom? Mostly other men. If every time a woman speaks about her experience of harassment, and your first reaction is to slam down how men get harassed too, or take it upon yourself to be offended, then you contribute to the problem.
-vesper
today I’m going to break the pattern today I’m going to break the pattern today I’m going to break the pattern today I’m going to break the pattern today I’m going to break the pattern today I’m going to break the pattern today I’m going to break the pattern today I’m going to break the pattern today I’m going to break the pattern today I’m going to break the pattern today I’m going to break the pattern today I’m going to break the pattern
Every bond has been watered down to mind games. You can't breathe peacefully without someone dropping a new theory, crafted from collective experiences, about how you'll get heartbreak at this age, or how you shouldn't reply too fast, or shouldn't make the other person feel too important. It's as if you're suffocating under the weight of calculated emotions—don't show too much effort, act like you don't care. As if nothing can be interpreted as genuine anymore, and you need to cut off your affection. What happened to understanding, yearning, and loving? The whole point of life is to love and let go. You'll get betrayed, outgrow people you thought you couldn't live without, and face heartbreak, yet you'll try again. Open your heart one more time, fall in love, and this time, your person will be right there, with open arms, ready to catch you.
-vesper
“You never know what worse luck your bad luck has saved you from.”
— Cormac McCarthy (b. 20 July 1933)

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मुझे उसमें भगवान शिव दिखते हैं,
जब वो गुस्से में सारा घर
सिर पर उठा लेने वाला,
किसी की भी बात
ना मानने वाला,
मेरे आगे झुक कर सारी
शर्तें स्वीकारता है,
बिना शिकायत मेरी हर
जिद को मानता है,
वो जानता है,
मैं नासमझ हूँ थोड़ी,
इसलिए बिना कहे मेरी
हर बात जान लेता है |
कब, कहाँ, किससे, क्या
कहना है,
सब पता है उसे,
फिर भी मेरी बातें
चुपचाप सुनता है |
उसके हाथ में त्रिशूल,
सिर पर चन्द्रमा नहीं,
फिर भी अर्धनारीश्वर सा
अपनाता है मुझे |
मेरे सोलह सोमवार के व्रत सा दिखने वाला,
हर ज़हर मेरे लिए पी जाता है,
कभी एक जगह स्थिर न रहने वाला,
मेरे माथे पर वो चाँद सा ठहरता है,
शायद इसलिए मुझे उसमें अपने शिव दिखाई देते हैं |
-Gauri.
fuuuuck i just realized that the future idealized version of myself cant exist without current me being the catalyst for change and doing hard things. has anybody heard about this