“My Life Was An Unending, Unchanging Midnight. It Must, By Necessity, Always Be Midnight For Me. So

Shoutout to low maintenance friends, the ones you don’t talk to for months because you are all busy in life but when you meet up, there’s nothing but love.

— Word Porn

It feels so good to forget responsibilities and meet with friends once in a while, just reminiscing the times when life was still less stressful and less demanding and just casually talking about future plans.💟✨

This.

I was a gifted child. Until I wasn't. I was the golden girl. Until I couldn't burn anymore.

My parents expected me to build wings of gold and fly further than anyone could ever try. I don't blame them, having a child to raise is like sculpting a clay pot, you can shape it the way you like, paint it the colour you fancy. To raise a child is to play God. To raise a child is to be God.

But to be a child is to fall, to make mistakes, to fail. The thing about being too bright at an early age means you burn out by the time you're 16 and suddenly the world around you becomes more gray and terribly, terribly lonely. The fire is never warm enough, nothing is ever enough. And one day you find yourself begging to a godless sky, begging for a new spark.

I was a gifted child once. I was the golden girl. And one day, I burned out.

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire

Look around and see

the beauty

despite the uncertainty.

It may be difficult now for some

but I know,

better days will come.

and like the waves🌊

I will fall, I will rise

Maheen I.

“He will provide the way and the means, such as you could never have imagined. Leave it all to Him, let go of yourself. Lose yourself on the Cross, and you will find yourself entirely.”

— St. Catherine of Siena

God is a great provider, so do not fret. The right path is laid for those who believe in Him and who are ready to lose everything in order to follow His lead.

moooom🥺😞

“I am too tired and I miss you too much.”

— Simone de Beauvior

💞

Long nights.Coffee stained books. Dark circles. Half full cups scattered around a dimly lit room. Heavy rain hitting off a window. Water filling the gutters. Tchaikovsky playing quietly on a record player. A neighboring houses window open wide enough to hear the soft violin chords. Shy smiles at books. Half closed eyes. Soft hums

where I’d rather be right now🥺

by pongwebeachhotel