All these tiny skies
That open up
Inside you
When someone
Makes gold bloom
Out of your wrists
With their love.
That is a reason
To stay alive.
-Rupali Jeganathan | The Girl Lost In The Bookstore
I haven’t been posting much, I know. But I’ve been away taking care of my mental health. How have you all been?
Follow me on Instagram.
i. On days When it is stormy On the inside of my skin, And I can hear The echoes of my heart Breaking Inside my ribcage, You gently pick up The pieces Of my broken dreams Where they have fallen On the floor From the … Continue reading Letters to my mother.
“Let us break the rules Of beauty”, she whispered In my ear. Let us stop swathing our faces With anti-aging, And fairness creams That promise to make Our skin glow. Let us show the world That beauty hides In the wrinkles on your skin, And … Continue reading Rules of beauty.
Wanderlust flows Like blood In my veins- My cerise lips Taste like love And heartbreak- My cerulean eyes hold A hundred secrets To cities undiscovered- My cheeks are smeared With a thousand shades Of magic- And my soul Is dripping With a million colours That … Continue reading Wanderlust.
I have officially turned 19, y’all. 19 years of doing nothing. Woo hoo!
I can’t believe I turned 19. Oh, no. This isn’t one if those omg-I-just-can’t-believe-I’m-19-so-fast things. I actually can’t believe that I am 19- and, neither will you, if you ever have the fortune of seeing me- because, I look 15. But on the upside, I’ll look young even when I’m 40. xD
I’m not even kidding, y’all. People often mistake me for a 15 year old girl. Not that it bothers me. I just blush- yes, seriously- and say, no I’m not 15, I’m, in fact, in my second year of college. Though, I must say, I enjoy seeing the look on people’s faces when I reveal my true age. They try so hard to hide their oh-so-shocked faces, but fail miserably. Hahaha.
Also, this is my first scheduled post. Yes, I finally figured out what scheduled posts are. xD I plan on shoveling food inside my mouth and watching bad TV all day long. And, maybe go out with family. I got over celebrating birthdays a while ago. But, if you wanna send me any gifts, I won’t say no. 😀
Oh, well. Happy birthday to me, I guess. Here, have some cake.
-The Girl Lost In The Bookstore
M, this one is for you.
Hey guys! One of my friends just made this for me. Those are some of the lines from one of my previous posts. And I’m speechless. I can’t form any sentences other than ohmygod. This is literally the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.
She is amazing. Her paintings are out of the world. They make you go “woah! That is some amazing shit!”. Go check out her facebook page. Which basically means, go like her page and tell her how amazing you think she is.
https://www.facebook.com/madhuriguntupalli777?fref=ts
Maddy, thank you so much. For someone who has always had a way with words, I’m finding myself at a loss for them. I just calmed myself down a bit. A minute ago I was going all omg omg omg. Hahaha. I’m not kidding. That was literally the only thing I was able to say. You made my day(strike) whole life. Again, thank you.
-With all the love in the world, and then some, R
To R, the only one who has never taken me for granted
Just 20 days into this blog, and I’m already having a panic attack!!! I feel like I’m running out of things to write about! I have a lot of ideas, but when I sit down to put them into words, my mind goes blank. I just sit and stare at the cursor blinking at me, and watch the screen go dark after a while.
I’ve searched far and wide for inspiration. I even searched the internet for some inspiration. *hides face behind hands* I even went so far as to ask one of my friends what I should write about. That idiot, of course, had no ideas.
So, here I was, panicking about what to write. Are my writing days over? So soon??!! Oh, no! How will I face people? *cries* (Too much of an exaggeration? Okay.)
And, then, inspiration struck. It was like a light bulb had gone off in my head! Maybe I should write about having this panic attack instead! But, then came another problem. How do I end the post? I again presented this problem to said friend of mine. And again, said friend had no ideas. No surprise there! (If you are reading this, I’m very sorry!)
And, I just told said friend that I mentioned him in my post, and he got very excited.
Him: Whaaaaat? Really??!! Am I really in your post??!!
Me: Yes, you are.
Him: No kidding?
Me: Absolutely not. *shakes head* You’ll see. *smirks*
I’m pretty sure he is going to murder me and bury my body somewhere no one can find it after he reads this. But, who cares? I feel better already! Hmm. What does that say about me, I wonder. And, if I stop posting after this, know that I was murdered by someone who claimed to be my friend!
And, since I don’t want to die so soon, I dedicated this post to him. Genius, right? *proud expression*
-R
To Pranay Oscar Lakra, who has such an amazing personality.
Happy birthday, in advance.
We’ve all been taught about the differences between a house and a home. A home has people, whereas a house does not. I remember I had a poem about it in eighth grade.
A home is the way you eat dinner together every night with your family, watching TV and laughing together. A home is the way your bedroom door creaks when you open it. A home is the way your bathroom door won’t quite close completely. A home is your messy room, your overflowing desk drawer. It’s your cluttered closet, and the way you just shove your clothes inside and quickly close it before they can all come falling down.
It’s the pieces of dust that are settled in the corners. It’s the ants that come in search of food. The way the crows come sit near the window when you’re eating, in hopes that you will feed them. The way the stray dogs that live near your house wag their tails and lick you as soon as you come out the door.
A home is the way the music keeps blaring out the speakers all day long, because your mom can’t work without it. A home is all the fights and arguments, and the making-ups after. It’s the smells wafting from the kitchen as your mom cooks.
A home is the way you try to be as quiet as possible at night, because your family’s sleeping. It’s fighting for the TV remote with your dad. Home is knowing that, no matter how far you go, you always have a place to come back to.
Home is comfort. Home is joy. Home is love. And, sometimes, home is a person.
-R
I was nominated by DAUNTLESSDREAM. Thank you so much! Guys, go check her blog out, she is fabulous, by the way.
Rules:
1. Thank the bloggers who nominated you.
2. Put the logo in your post.
3. Post 7 facts about yourself.
4. Nominate 7 other bloggers.
Since I’ve already posted a few facts about myself, here are some new ones.
NOMINEES:
I’ll get around to nominating the rest, later.
-R
1. I’m weird and crazy. The more you get to know me, the weirder I become. Just when you think you’ve figured out how crazy I am, you realize that there is another whole level of craziness you didn’t know about. But, my craziness makes me who I am, and I wouldn’t want to change it for the world.
2. I love being melodramatic, and I’m a fan of hyperboles.
3. Sarcasm. Need I say more?
4. I’m a caffeine addict. I cannot function without my daily cup of coffee.
5. I go through books like money flying out my hands.
6. Whenever I eat, I eat my least favourite things first, so that I can get it over with and really savour the rest.
7. The number 8 is my favourite. I also like the number 5. I don’t like odd numbers, except for the ones that add up to 5 or 8.
8. I love making lists, if only for the sheer pleasure of crossing things out when I finish them.
9. I’m a grammar Nazi. Bad grammar is a major turn-off for me. I mentally correct people’s grammar all the time. And occasionally, out loud.
10. I’m very picky about things. It takes hours for me to shop, because it’s hard for me to find one thing that I have no complaints about.
11. I have an eidetic memory. I can recite entire conversations from years ago, can remember what you wore on which day, and so on.
12. I love Oxford commas. I didn’t, not at first. But, last year, I gave a speech about them in my English class, and I’ve loved them since.
13. I hate the number 13. I don’t know why. (Ha! Such irony.)
14. I’m a mood reader. The book I choose to read, depends on my mood. More often than not, I start reading a book, and after two or three pages, if I don’t feel like reading that particular book, I start another one instead until I find the perfect one.
15. I actually don’t have anything more to say. I just added this because, I like the number 15 more than the number 14. 14 feels a bit.. Unfinished.
( *in a small voice* I told you I’m weird, please don’t judge me.)
Oh, wait! I don’t have a dog.
-R
Literature Is My Porn 