Can you write a relatable answer

Can you write a relatable answer?


It feels like forever.

One day, that lasts forever.

One moment of pain that equates in its length to, eternity.

I never thought I’d think about death.

I never thought I’d get to a point where the only solution in sight is to give up.
Because there was just no point in trying.

I never thought I’d call someone telling them to save me from, myself.
I never thought I’d let it consume me.
I thought I was stronger than that.

I never thought I’d send everyone I loved messages reminding them that I love them in case I lost control.
Never thought I’d send a text saying “If I ever disappear and don’t come back…”
I never thought I’d consider what my family members’ lives would be like if I didn’t exist.
What my friends would think.
My teachers.
I scanned through my contacts and thought, “how would this person feel if I didn’t wake up tomorrow?”
And the answer to that question was always the same.

No one would care.

Your head sinks deep into the pillow.
You turn to the side and all you consider is how the pillow can suffocate you.

You enter the kitchen and all you think of is the sharpened knives surrounding you.

You cross the road and all you see is cars running you over, leaving your corpse to rot in the centre of the street.
Because why would they look back?
You push through crowds of people bustling about, and all that races through your mind is that none of them care.
No one cares.
You’re just as worthless as you are replaceable.
You mean nothing to any individual on the face of the Earth.
If anything, they’re happier without you.

“You don’t deserve to be happy,” your mind reiterates.
“You don’t deserve to be alive.

You hobble through the school corridors, earphones in your ears, your hair the equivalent of a bird’s nest, your heart, your mind, heavy.

Everything is so heavy.

To walk is a strenuous task.
You haven’t showered in a week.
To breathe feels impossible.
The air barely passes through your trachea.
You feel like you’re gonna choke.
Like you’re drowning within powerful monsters labelled Thoughts.
Like you’re gonna suffocate, because it’s just too hard.
And realistically, you don’t mind.

You’re not careful, because you don’t care about your life.

You’re stuck in a loop of sorrow that you’ve lost the start of, and can never seem to find the end.

You’ve lost all that truly mattered to you, because of you.

Because of trivial feelings you let get in your way.

Because you thought you weren’t enough.
For any of them.
Because you constantly begged yourself to believe you’re not good enough, until you weren’t.

Until it had an adverse, unwanted effect.

Life has no substance, because you have no substance.
You are but a walking shadow, sometimes numb, sometimes in pain that has you screaming silently at the top of your lungs.
That has you stood in front of a mirror that presents to you your greatest enemy.

And it hurts.

It hurts when your greatest enemy is yourself.

“Please be beautiful.

“Please stop hurting me.

“Please stop being you.

“Please, please, please.

“You really are hideous.

“Meh, why would they speak to you?”
“I see now why they left you all those years ago.
Meh.

“Get out of my fucking way.

“I don’t want to lose anyone.
Please leave me alone.

“Why can’t you love me?”
“How are you so heartless when I’m you?”
“You’re broken.

“You’re such a burden.
You think anyone really wants you here? How cute.

I’m so sick of you.
You’re just not the person I want to be.

“How can I get rid of you?”
“You ruined my life.
Everyone hates me.
You hate me.
Why should I let you live?”

“Please leave me to die…”
“I miss meaning something.

“I’m disgusted by your existence.

“Die.

These are things I’ve said, written, and typed to myself over the last few months.

I lost most of what I cared about.

I lost myself in the process.

My family and friends all sensed the change.

I isolated myself from the rest of the world thinking it would function better without me.
I thought I had no chance of being loved because of the mistakes I made.
Mistakes I never did and maybe never will forgive myself for.

I was trapped in a cage I couldn’t escape.
I was trapped within a person I didn’t love.
A person I despised, and really wanted to hurt.

And several times, I did.

I punched mirrors.
Walls.
My knuckles were bruised.
I was angry.
Always angry.
Angry at the villain in the mirror.

I cried every time someone looked away, or I found myself alone.
If I didn’t cry, tears welled up and I felt a force against my chest.
A strong sensation in the chest.
Like someone was stomping at my heart or ripping it into pieces.

My smiles weren’t real.

My laughs were fake.

My happiness was staged, until I couldn’t pretend.

Until everyone who knew Mais knew she suffered.
Because the smile hurt.

I thought my life was over.
What did I have to live for? Myself?
I didn’t care about her.
If I’m honest, a part of me still doesn’t.

I had to kill my mind, before it killed me.

Because I didn’t want to die,
I just wanted to be alive.

It’s hard.

Whatever you’re going through, it’s hard.

When you lose something, it hurts.

Whether your depression is circumstantial or not, I know how you feel, and this answer isn’t a cry for help, it’s an example of someone who did survive.

And I’m not any better than any of you reading this.
I’m not stronger.
I’m not special nor am I more significant.
But I have a story, just as you do.
And I suffered, just as you have, or may, or will.
I thought I was strong, but it struck me.
I fell.
It hurt.
It always does.

Because nothing ever runs completely smooth.

Not even love, or happiness, or, depression.

You will drop.
You may have already, and you may be crawling, exhausted, broken, and ready to stop moving.

Don’t.

Yesterday, I cried.

But it wasn’t like those cries beneath my blanket.
It wasn’t like those caterwauls that no one heard but me.
It wasn’t a shriek of agony.

It wasn’t a cry for rescue.
It was the contrary.

Yesterday I cried because I realised, I’m happy.

Right now, I’m smiling.

I made it.
I won.

And it may happen again and I may slip and I may sink below the surface, but I won’t stop pushing.
I won’t stop moving.
Because that’s the worst thing you can do when a weight drags you down.

Someone is there for you.
Even if it’s me.
Message me, reach out.
If you feel any of these things, do not suppress it.
Don’t hide from it.
Don’t let yourself go.

You’re not going to lose this fight.

Depression is a whirlpool, but you can stay afloat.

You’re not alone.
Someone does love you.
Someone does care.
Your life does matter.
You are here for something.

You will be happy.

You are not alone.

My story’s ending is nothing but the ending of yours as well.
I’m not writing this to make you feel okay because I know nothing can.
I’m not writing this to tell you life is all happy go lucky and that what you’re going through is easy to flee.

I’m writing this to remind you pain is temporary, and whatever decision you make is final.

Stay strong, because you’re not alone.
And if no one else has said it yet, I’m proud of you.
Because you’re still here and you’re reading this.

You have a chance.
Don’t let it go.

Don’t let yourself, go.

Cliche, but it really does get better.
And I don’t want you to question that.

I just need you to remember it.

Aishah Hannan <3


The nights you stay up crying and whimpering under your blanket,
The times you feel lonely and try to fill the void by watching movies,
The moments you feel like giving up because the overwhelming feeling of weakness consumes you,
The recurrent flashbacks of pure sadness which you try to push away,
The friends who promised to be there for you but are nowhere to be seen when you need them the most,
The family who you can't open up to as you don't want to be a burden,
The exhaustion overtaking you, the expectations people have of you,
We feel you.
Believe me, we understand because we've all experienced it at some point in our lives.

The truth is, we're all going through something.

The friend who promised to be there for you may be going through a terrible time themselves.
Were you there when they needed you?
When you feel alone, there is somebody willing to listen.
If you feel like a burden, isn't that a thought you need to conquer?
Sometimes those around us aren't the issue, rather, it is us and our insecurities that's the issue.


When you’re depressed, beauty becomes a cape over nature.
Spring can show-off, but we will not notice it.
Leaves falling from the trees, brown and dry, the clouds over our heads, dispersed to reveal hope but we are lost travelers.

And the winter is harsh, that is when the heart aches the most.
Cold days, a cold heart and unresponsive to the beautiful smoke coming out of the cup of hot tea.
Sleepless nights and dreams of death.

Unemotional feelings and black bags under our eyes.
Specks of red within the eyes show up and crazy thoughts of suicide.
We don’t want to die, we just want to hang ourselves from the ceiling but still exist.

Fake smiles and small tiny laughs.
The twinkle in the eyes are lost, we are present but our minds are absent, we ask you what you said.
The mind stays occupied with questions about life and the future.

We wake up and we slam our heads back on the bed, we look up at the ceiling, ungrateful for the things we have and we ask ourselves why we woke up alive.
Even though we are scared to die, the idea of dying in your sleep is a peaceful thought.

Sometimes, we do not know the true reason of depression.
We’re just depressed.
We don’t even know how to answer the question when it arises.
Sometimes, we become depressed and broken because we lost something, someone.

Some of us turn to alcohol and drugs.
When we’re high, we might forget it for a little while.
Feeling high is great, abstract ideas and beautiful patterns emerge.
Faces and experiences vanish, sometimes it appears but then there is a flick of hope.

I understand.
Many nights we spent on our knees and slamming the floor with our hands, curled up in a ball, clenching our stomachs and tears falling out of our eyes equipped with a runny nose and small shrieks of helplessness.

That is the ingredients of depression.


Do you also have a strong urge to write sometimes…have you felt this way that you want to write something.
.
.
and write it in such a way that it can connect to each and every prrson out there but you find yourself short of ideas ….
And that urge of writing is not less than any kind of other sort of urge.
Its like the same urge that you feel when you are hungry and you are waiting impatiently for food…That feeling… And once you write sth.
u feel so relieved.
That urge has nothing to do with any topic.
.
Its not like you want to write about politics or about your neighbourhood or your first love story…It has got nothing to do with any specific topic…You just want to write.
.
Write anything .
.
the same way I have been writing here.
.
.
You dont know if anyone will read it…neither do u know if they will be able to relate to it.
.
but you write …you write ur heart out…and then just anticipate.

There are so many things in world which give pleasure to people but for some its writing.
Writing makes you feel relieved.

I havent written much up till now but I wish to write.
.
I have been hesitating to put my stories infront of people.
But I wish to more and write good content.
Ending with a sigh.

A sigh of relief.


The pressure continues to build with every tick of the clock…
Looking around you see students furiously tapping away with their sharp pointed pencils
Others are continuously looking inside their desk, making it obvious they were cheating.
You can’t blame them, Algebra 1 signified the moment students would branch off into two categories; those who could do the basic fundamentals of math and people who could do Calculus.

You’ve officially reached the last question on the test.
This truly puts a smile on you face.

Its a simple problem: 2 + 2 = x; What is the value of x.
Quite simple for an “Advanced Algebra Test.

You know the answer its 4.
You have been though this since the beginning of Pre-K.

Nevertheless, you pick up your TI Graphing Calculator and press the buttons, 2 followed by a plus sign (+), and then another 2.

You press equal and get the expected answer: 4.

What is something relatable, when you enter basic addition problems in your calculator just to make sure your correct.


You’re so close to victory.

It’s just in reach.

One more click of a button and…
…wait.

A red screen appears.

You’ve dropped down to 19th place.

You mentally scream in frustration.

The answer streak you’ve had the entire game? Gone.

You slump in your chair in anguish.

Looking around at all the green screens around you, you hide your bright, noisy, tattle-telling screen away from their prying eyes.

You hear someone exclaim their delight from the other side of the room as they take your spot in the top 5.

The spot you were so sure you had on lock.

You give up on trying.

Only two questions left in the game, there’s no way you could make it back to top 10 even.

Bitter, you listen to the winner’s boasting about their score.

Clenching your teeth and shaking your head to forget about your plain and utter defeat, you shove your device away.

Forgetting about it until the next time.

The next class, where surely this time you’ll win.

Because it’s not just a game.

It’s Kahoot.

From the stars,
Dawn.


I love to keep fast on “Mahashivratri” and worshipping lord “Shiva” for whole night.
So, this year too I decided to do the same, keeping fast and all those rituals.
In the evening , my period started, but at the same time I was in temple.

So I told my mom about this and asked for sanitary pad.
But instead,she got angry and took me to the house, And strictly said that “yahin par rehna , koi jaroot nahin hai puja karne ki , jab maalom tha ki taarikh pass hai toh kyun ki puja , manhus ladki kabhi nahin samjhti”(“I told you not to enter in this auspicious room.
You are aware of the fact, right.
Your period is coming near , You will impure everything by staying here , evilish girl ! Why don't you understand?”)

Because of periods I had to break my fast that day and was strictly prohibited to pray god.
Then I had a bath on that cold night also.

That day I understood;
“Red” the colour of love was become a “taboo” on my skirt that day.

Love love ❤️


You’re about to get on Pub G.

Make sure you have a nice parachute, because your friend will make fun of you for having a default.


WOOSH! YOU JUMPED!
“Where we landing boys?”, he asked.

“Let’s drop at the school.
, I replied.

“What? The school? Man I’m cool, we just spent 6 hours there in real life.
, he proclaimed.

“Yeah but this is virt -“
“I’m cool.
, he interrupted.

“Alright, fuck it, I’ll land there alone.
I’m a god anyways, I can do this solo.
, I said in disappoint.

“You might be good but you ain’t better than me.
I drop 50 kills every ga -“

POW POW BOOOOSH!
“unlimitedSTTB has been knocked.


“What happened? I thought you dropped 50 kills every game?”, I said as I giggled.
“Oh, you not gone say anything? It’s cool.
Let me just revive you and screenshot this.
It’s gone be my wall paper too.

*unlimitedSTTB has disconnected.
*


When You Think You’re Finally Free Until…
I finally finish my homework.

I grab my phone and I get comfortable in bed; AC on with a fuzzy, warm blanket.
(So AmAzInG aHhH)
As I start scrolling through youtube videos to decide what to watch, I find MeMeSSS
UNTIL—
My Mom: “HEY, I TOLD YOU TO WASH THE DISHES AND DO THE LAUNDRY!”
Me In My Head: AHHHHHHHH!!!!


So, this is what my life is like daily.
I be thinking that I’m free but then I get chores to do SMH LMAOO!


Can you write a relatable answer?
Sometimes, I wonder if life is nothing but a simulation.
After all, it feels like a nothing but some glorified cage.

Sometimes, I wonder if I was deviant from society, not conforming to norms.
An outcast among outcasts, as one said.

And I wonder, if our actions are truly of our own free will.

Life is nothing but a pack of cards to me.


Can you write a relatable answer?


It feels like forever.

One day, that lasts forever.

One moment of pain that equates in its length to, eternity.

I never thought I’d think about death.

I never thought I’d get to a point where the only solution in sight is to give up.
Because there was just no point in trying.

I never thought I’d call someone telling them to save me from, myself.
I never thought I’d let it consume me.
I thought I was stronger than that.

I never thought I’d send everyone I loved messages reminding them that I love them in case I lost control.
Never thought I’d send a text saying “If I ever disappear and don’t come back…”
I never thought I’d consider what my family members’ lives would be like if I didn’t exist.
What my friends would think.
My teachers.
I scanned through my contacts and thought, “how would this person feel if I didn’t wake up tomorrow?”
And the answer to that question was always the same.

No one would care.

Your head sinks deep into the pillow.
You turn to the side and all you consider is how the pillow can suffocate you.

You enter the kitchen and all you think of is the sharpened knives surrounding you.

You cross the road and all you see is cars running you over, leaving your corpse to rot in the centre of the street.
Because why would they look back?
You push through crowds of people bustling about, and all that races through your mind is that none of them care.
No one cares.
You’re just as worthless as you are replaceable.
You mean nothing to any individual on the face of the Earth.
If anything, they’re happier without you.

“You don’t deserve to be happy,” your mind reiterates.
“You don’t deserve to be alive.

You hobble through the school corridors, earphones in your ears, your hair the equivalent of a bird’s nest, your heart, your mind, heavy.

Everything is so heavy.

To walk is a strenuous task.
You haven’t showered in a week.
To breathe feels impossible.
The air barely passes through your trachea.
You feel like you’re gonna choke.
Like you’re drowning within powerful monsters labelled Thoughts.
Like you’re gonna suffocate, because it’s just too hard.
And realistically, you don’t mind.

You’re not careful, because you don’t care about your life.

You’re stuck in a loop of sorrow that you’ve lost the start of, and can never seem to find the end.

You’ve lost all that truly mattered to you, because of you.

Because of trivial feelings you let get in your way.

Because you thought you weren’t enough.
For any of them.
Because you constantly begged yourself to believe you’re not good enough, until you weren’t.

Until it had an adverse, unwanted effect.

Life has no substance, because you have no substance.
You are but a walking shadow, sometimes numb, sometimes in pain that has you screaming silently at the top of your lungs.
That has you stood in front of a mirror that presents to you your greatest enemy.

And it hurts.

It hurts when your greatest enemy is yourself.

“Please be beautiful.

“Please stop hurting me.

“Please stop being you.

“Please, please, please.

“You really are hideous.

“Meh, why would they speak to you?”
“I see now why they left you all those years ago.
Meh.

“Get out of my fucking way.

“I don’t want to lose anyone.
Please leave me alone.

“Why can’t you love me?”
“How are you so heartless when I’m you?”
“You’re broken.

“You’re such a burden.
You think anyone really wants you here? How cute.

I’m so sick of you.
You’re just not the person I want to be.

“How can I get rid of you?”
“You ruined my life.
Everyone hates me.
You hate me.
Why should I let you live?”

“Please leave me to die…”
“I miss meaning something.

“I’m disgusted by your existence.

“Die.

These are things I’ve said, written, and typed to myself over the last few months.

I lost most of what I cared about.

I lost myself in the process.

My family and friends all sensed the change.

I isolated myself from the rest of the world thinking it would function better without me.
I thought I had no chance of being loved because of the mistakes I made.
Mistakes I never did and maybe never will forgive myself for.

I was trapped in a cage I couldn’t escape.
I was trapped within a person I didn’t love.
A person I despised, and really wanted to hurt.

And several times, I did.

I punched mirrors.
Walls.
My knuckles were bruised.
I was angry.
Always angry.
Angry at the villain in the mirror.

I cried every time someone looked away, or I found myself alone.
If I didn’t cry, tears welled up and I felt a force against my chest.
A strong sensation in the chest.
Like someone was stomping at my heart or ripping it into pieces.

My smiles weren’t real.

My laughs were fake.

My happiness was staged, until I couldn’t pretend.

Until everyone who knew Mais knew she suffered.
Because the smile hurt.

I thought my life was over.
What did I have to live for? Myself?
I didn’t care about her.
If I’m honest, a part of me still doesn’t.

I had to kill my mind, before it killed me.

Because I didn’t want to die,
I just wanted to be alive.

It’s hard.

Whatever you’re going through, it’s hard.

When you lose something, it hurts.

Whether your depression is circumstantial or not, I know how you feel, and this answer isn’t a cry for help, it’s an example of someone who did survive.

And I’m not any better than any of you reading this.
I’m not stronger.
I’m not special nor am I more significant.
But I have a story, just as you do.
And I suffered, just as you have, or may, or will.
I thought I was strong, but it struck me.
I fell.
It hurt.
It always does.

Because nothing ever runs completely smooth.

Not even love, or happiness, or, depression.

You will drop.
You may have already, and you may be crawling, exhausted, broken, and ready to stop moving.

Don’t.

Yesterday, I cried.

But it wasn’t like those cries beneath my blanket.
It wasn’t like those caterwauls that no one heard but me.
It wasn’t a shriek of agony.

It wasn’t a cry for rescue.
It was the contrary.

Yesterday I cried because I realised, I’m happy.

Right now, I’m smiling.

I made it.
I won.

And it may happen again and I may slip and I may sink below the surface, but I won’t stop pushing.
I won’t stop moving.
Because that’s the worst thing you can do when a weight drags you down.

Someone is there for you.
Even if it’s me.
Message me, reach out.
If you feel any of these things, do not suppress it.
Don’t hide from it.
Don’t let yourself go.

You’re not going to lose this fight.

Depression is a whirlpool, but you can stay afloat.

You’re not alone.
Someone does love you.
Someone does care.
Your life does matter.
You are here for something.

You will be happy.

You are not alone.

My story’s ending is nothing but the ending of yours as well.
I’m not writing this to make you feel okay because I know nothing can.
I’m not writing this to tell you life is all happy go lucky and that what you’re going through is easy to flee.

I’m writing this to remind you pain is temporary, and whatever decision you make is final.

Stay strong, because you’re not alone.
And if no one else has said it yet, I’m proud of you.
Because you’re still here and you’re reading this.

You have a chance.
Don’t let it go.

Don’t let yourself, go.

Cliche, but it really does get better.
And I don’t want you to question that.

I just need you to remember it.

Aishah Hannan <3


The nights you stay up crying and whimpering under your blanket,
The times you feel lonely and try to fill the void by watching movies,
The moments you feel like giving up because the overwhelming feeling of weakness consumes you,
The recurrent flashbacks of pure sadness which you try to push away,
The friends who promised to be there for you but are nowhere to be seen when you need them the most,
The family who you can't open up to as you don't want to be a burden,
The exhaustion overtaking you, the expectations people have of you,
We feel you.
Believe me, we understand because we've all experienced it at some point in our lives.

The truth is, we're all going through something.

The friend who promised to be there for you may be going through a terrible time themselves.
Were you there when they needed you?
When you feel alone, there is somebody willing to listen.
If you feel like a burden, isn't that a thought you need to conquer?
Sometimes those around us aren't the issue, rather, it is us and our insecurities that's the issue.


When you’re depressed, beauty becomes a cape over nature.
Spring can show-off, but we will not notice it.
Leaves falling from the trees, brown and dry, the clouds over our heads, dispersed to reveal hope but we are lost travelers.

And the winter is harsh, that is when the heart aches the most.
Cold days, a cold heart and unresponsive to the beautiful smoke coming out of the cup of hot tea.
Sleepless nights and dreams of death.

Unemotional feelings and black bags under our eyes.
Specks of red within the eyes show up and crazy thoughts of suicide.
We don’t want to die, we just want to hang ourselves from the ceiling but still exist.

Fake smiles and small tiny laughs.
The twinkle in the eyes are lost, we are present but our minds are absent, we ask you what you said.
The mind stays occupied with questions about life and the future.

We wake up and we slam our heads back on the bed, we look up at the ceiling, ungrateful for the things we have and we ask ourselves why we woke up alive.
Even though we are scared to die, the idea of dying in your sleep is a peaceful thought.

Sometimes, we do not know the true reason of depression.
We’re just depressed.
We don’t even know how to answer the question when it arises.
Sometimes, we become depressed and broken because we lost something, someone.

Some of us turn to alcohol and drugs.
When we’re high, we might forget it for a little while.
Feeling high is great, abstract ideas and beautiful patterns emerge.
Faces and experiences vanish, sometimes it appears but then there is a flick of hope.

I understand.
Many nights we spent on our knees and slamming the floor with our hands, curled up in a ball, clenching our stomachs and tears falling out of our eyes equipped with a runny nose and small shrieks of helplessness.

That is the ingredients of depression.


Do you also have a strong urge to write sometimes…have you felt this way that you want to write something.
.
.
and write it in such a way that it can connect to each and every prrson out there but you find yourself short of ideas ….
And that urge of writing is not less than any kind of other sort of urge.
Its like the same urge that you feel when you are hungry and you are waiting impatiently for food…That feeling… And once you write sth.
u feel so relieved.
That urge has nothing to do with any topic.
.
Its not like you want to write about politics or about your neighbourhood or your first love story…It has got nothing to do with any specific topic…You just want to write.
.
Write anything .
.
the same way I have been writing here.
.
.
You dont know if anyone will read it…neither do u know if they will be able to relate to it.
.
but you write …you write ur heart out…and then just anticipate.

There are so many things in world which give pleasure to people but for some its writing.
Writing makes you feel relieved.

I havent written much up till now but I wish to write.
.
I have been hesitating to put my stories infront of people.
But I wish to more and write good content.
Ending with a sigh.

A sigh of relief.


The pressure continues to build with every tick of the clock…
Looking around you see students furiously tapping away with their sharp pointed pencils
Others are continuously looking inside their desk, making it obvious they were cheating.
You can’t blame them, Algebra 1 signified the moment students would branch off into two categories; those who could do the basic fundamentals of math and people who could do Calculus.

You’ve officially reached the last question on the test.
This truly puts a smile on you face.

Its a simple problem: 2 + 2 = x; What is the value of x.
Quite simple for an “Advanced Algebra Test.

You know the answer its 4.
You have been though this since the beginning of Pre-K.

Nevertheless, you pick up your TI Graphing Calculator and press the buttons, 2 followed by a plus sign (+), and then another 2.

You press equal and get the expected answer: 4.

What is something relatable, when you enter basic addition problems in your calculator just to make sure your correct.


You’re so close to victory.

It’s just in reach.

One more click of a button and…
…wait.

A red screen appears.

You’ve dropped down to 19th place.

You mentally scream in frustration.

The answer streak you’ve had the entire game? Gone.

You slump in your chair in anguish.

Looking around at all the green screens around you, you hide your bright, noisy, tattle-telling screen away from their prying eyes.

You hear someone exclaim their delight from the other side of the room as they take your spot in the top 5.

The spot you were so sure you had on lock.

You give up on trying.

Only two questions left in the game, there’s no way you could make it back to top 10 even.

Bitter, you listen to the winner’s boasting about their score.

Clenching your teeth and shaking your head to forget about your plain and utter defeat, you shove your device away.

Forgetting about it until the next time.

The next class, where surely this time you’ll win.

Because it’s not just a game.

It’s Kahoot.

From the stars,
Dawn.


I love to keep fast on “Mahashivratri” and worshipping lord “Shiva” for whole night.
So, this year too I decided to do the same, keeping fast and all those rituals.
In the evening , my period started, but at the same time I was in temple.

So I told my mom about this and asked for sanitary pad.
But instead,she got angry and took me to the house, And strictly said that “yahin par rehna , koi jaroot nahin hai puja karne ki , jab maalom tha ki taarikh pass hai toh kyun ki puja , manhus ladki kabhi nahin samjhti”(“I told you not to enter in this auspicious room.
You are aware of the fact, right.
Your period is coming near , You will impure everything by staying here , evilish girl ! Why don't you understand?”)

Because of periods I had to break my fast that day and was strictly prohibited to pray god.
Then I had a bath on that cold night also.

That day I understood;
“Red” the colour of love was become a “taboo” on my skirt that day.

Love love ❤️


You’re about to get on Pub G.

Make sure you have a nice parachute, because your friend will make fun of you for having a default.


WOOSH! YOU JUMPED!
“Where we landing boys?”, he asked.

“Let’s drop at the school.
, I replied.

“What? The school? Man I’m cool, we just spent 6 hours there in real life.
, he proclaimed.

“Yeah but this is virt -“
“I’m cool.
, he interrupted.

“Alright, fuck it, I’ll land there alone.
I’m a god anyways, I can do this solo.
, I said in disappoint.

“You might be good but you ain’t better than me.
I drop 50 kills every ga -“

POW POW BOOOOSH!
“unlimitedSTTB has been knocked.


“What happened? I thought you dropped 50 kills every game?”, I said as I giggled.
“Oh, you not gone say anything? It’s cool.
Let me just revive you and screenshot this.
It’s gone be my wall paper too.

*unlimitedSTTB has disconnected.
*


When You Think You’re Finally Free Until…
I finally finish my homework.

I grab my phone and I get comfortable in bed; AC on with a fuzzy, warm blanket.
(So AmAzInG aHhH)
As I start scrolling through youtube videos to decide what to watch, I find MeMeSSS
UNTIL—
My Mom: “HEY, I TOLD YOU TO WASH THE DISHES AND DO THE LAUNDRY!”
Me In My Head: AHHHHHHHH!!!!


So, this is what my life is like daily.
I be thinking that I’m free but then I get chores to do SMH LMAOO!


Can you write a relatable answer?
Sometimes, I wonder if life is nothing but a simulation.
After all, it feels like a nothing but some glorified cage.

Sometimes, I wonder if I was deviant from society, not conforming to norms.
An outcast among outcasts, as one said.

And I wonder, if our actions are truly of our own free will.

Life is nothing but a pack of cards to me.

Updated: 11.06.2019 — 6:53 pm

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