Samina

India

Common girl with uncommon dreams.
Perspiration always turns to perfection :-)
Youtuber
Capricorn
Hopeless Romantic
Poet????

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Go and check out
Tushar Mandhan, or else I will steal your chocolates :P I don't have words for him.
Pure heart, Mishthi Sharma, V-Rose and EliathRose
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"Paper is more patient than man" ~ Anne Frank
“You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world...but you do have some say in who hurts you. I like my choices.”-John Green
“And in that moment, I swear we were infinite.”-Stephen Chbosky
“I want you to be the very best version of yourself that you can be.”- Lady Bird
“I am a mess"-Elio

Unspoken Agony (PLEASE REVIEW <3

November 28, 2020


We all are STORYTELLERS.

We make up our own world. Remember when we had a fictional character who was our best friend. Similarly, remember how we used to tell daily stories to mum. We live simultaneously with the fictional world. We feel the books by reading them. We don’t write or narrate stories we add life to it. So writers are creatures who make a world of their own. We make connections. We writers are blessed with four eyes. One is the reader’s eye. We appreciate others’ work and encourage them. The second is the writer’s eye. Which points out how well the story is written. The third is the critic eye which finds out the flaws. The last one is well I don't know. An eye/which/makes/you feel how stupid your work is.

My story is nothing different. I call myself, Alexandra. My name means strong, but in real life, I am not strong, I am just surviving. I have this story, this life inside me, so I decided to buy this journal and scribble this story to alive. I belong to wonderland. You must have heard about Earth? I live there but my mind is wandering. Right now I am sitting in Spring Highschool, but my hands involuntarily engaged in writing.

I feel the iron hairpin.

Everything had two sides but we often see what's in front of our eyes. We see and hear what we want to. Every person has two sides. And we often neglect the unseen one. Similarly, every word has two meanings.
Google defines bullying as /ˈbʊl.i.ɪŋ/ the behavior of a person who hurts or frightens someone smaller or less powerful, often forcing that person to do something they do not want to do. But my definition would be commenting hurtful things something which revolves around their heads like planets around the sun.
What we see as bullying is physical misbehaving or big cheats. My eyes find it as comments which are mean which maybe be insignificant to others but make you feel your dying inside.

We never see the other side of the world.

Iron hairpin which is kept in the washroom. It's just there. It rusts. But people pick it up and throw it.

Everyone forgets that without rust the iron would be shining.
I stay away from people. Not because they are bad, just because they make me feel like shoelaces.

Unfortunately, I have more friends in fiction than in reality.

In reality, I don't talk to anyone.


Silence has its own voice. Hear it


While everyone shared their memories from their wonderful childhood. I feel left out. 
My childhood was like a pile of sand. The more you know about it the more you get into it, the more it will hurt you. I used to visit parks on Sunday, where I used to ride on the swing for hours. Lost in the moment. Noticing the butterfly flapping its wing. And the bush which was standing in solitude. The flowers bowing in front of me. I always thought of nature as my friend. I liked staying in the park because my house is not the safest place. I can’t bear the screams, fights, cacophonous park. The wind loved me, that's why they make me feel so light and glorious. All other kids liked to maintain a 6 feet distance. Maybe because I was being identified as a spooky person. I loved black because of its darkness, how it hides mysteries. My life is a mystery. So other kids noticed me and nature’s friendship. Envy is human nature. Eventually, kids stopped to get to that park. Parents thought of me as a bad omen or unnecessary evil. I enjoyed nature, the trees shedding leaves every autumn. One day the municipality thought of it as an abandoned park and decided to destroy it to make a mall. My childhood crushed under the autumn leaves as the crisping wind blew it. Sand in my shoe remains till now. It’s dusty and irritating.
Then I learned a lesson that humans have the natural tendency to snatch what you love.


My parents were always busy. When they had time they started to argue. I never had birthday parties like others do. All my birthdays were spent crying behind the door or staring at the night stars. Just like nature, the moon, and stars, the galaxy is my friend. I don’t have any topic to discuss with normal people. They blow candles and cut cake on birthdays, I burn my hand while making myself some food. 
I was always like an umbrella for my sister. I don’t let any disparity touch her. Even when I can’t celebrate my birthday. I make a cake for her. Honestly, I am a hypocrite. I encourage others, illuminate positivity but not follow it.
My best birthday gift was a journal I received from my mother. Its fortune wasn’t the best after some time it ended by burning in fire. I didn’t like anyone to know my secrets so I burnt it. The best birthday was when Sasha invited me to her home. She cooked cookies. They were tasty. That was the moment I knew what friendship and love tasted like. It was hot yet sooting.

I never got involved in tea parties or class parties. Firstly because I am socially awkward. And then these parties have heavy use of alcohol. What’s the need for drugs when you could get high on dreams, feelings, emotions. Drugs are a waste of time, money. Life is already so drunk. These parties have very weird games where you answer questions about yourself. Meet strangers. I don’t have an answer to who I am. Human personalities are as complicated as a spider’s web. It’s sticky and gross. We keep on jumping topics in our minds. Any comment which serves to revolve in our mind is like the insects getting trapped. They don’t have a way to escape.

Silence has its own voice. Hear it



 

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3 Comments
  • remi'sgotinkstains

    Wow, I love your beginning so much. As soon as my eyes brushed over it, I knew I had to read the whole thing. A thrill crawled up my spine at your very first words. WE ARE ALL STORYTELLERS. Amazing.


    5 months ago
  • Pavithra C.P

    Hey, so I tried describing you out of my imagination in my new piece called- wtw descriptions :)) It was fun. Please could you see through it and check if I got it right heheh :))


    5 months ago
  • Pavithra C.P

    LOVE THIS OMG!


    5 months ago