Some days are recuperation. Some days are comfort. And some days are sitting with discomfort because that’s the name on the door behind which we stuff pain. Maybe it’s because I am facing head-on, things that trigger me and trying to learn new responses in doing so. Maybe it’s another…
In 2019, I matched with someone on a dating app. We were having a great conversation, which in itself was surprising. Trying to find anything (companionship, laughter, connection, fun, attraction) via the interwebs designed to turn human response into capitalist touchpoints – is counterintuitive. What made it extra surprising was,…
You have to live through the echoes of the things you couldn’t hear. Trauma manifests in layered ways.
“How are you? How have you been? Who are you?” I don’t know how to answer these questions anymore, where once I had perfectly formulated, sure-as-steel answers. I’m still catching my breath and making sense of sounds. I’m experiencing the first summer in two years. In many ways, it is…
I’m punk, you’re cheesy. And now I’m writing poems about your loving but you got there via the punks.
A glass of lemonade and a whole relationship dynamic in one swallow. It’s all ice shards and acid.
Solo dates are my most enjoyable dates.
Sweet Tooth. I didn’t have one. There was no room for it in my world of efficient kitchen logistics & transactions of nutrition.
Kiran Nagarkar’s legacy is making me ponder questions of dignity.
Life feels easier when you realise they don’t understand you. Can’t, won’t try & probably never will. But that is okay because when there’s no one around to live your life for you, is when you start to breathe. And you realise you don’t need anyone to understand you. It…
