nessnote

i am not well understood. which is also my fault.

i think i deleted this from here

fell asleep with the news still breathing in my ears, and the world followed me into the dream. it was not night there, nor day. i stood on a plain made of ash and paper, old laws crumbling underfoot like dried leaves. above me rose a great invisible presence. it pressed upon the air itself. this, i knew without being told, was the government. it was never meant to be this way. in the dream, a forgotten truth trembled like a half-remembered hymn that "we were meant to be sovereign." power was once supposed to flow upward, like roots drawing strength from the soil. but somewhere, the current reversed. now it pours downward in a cold, merciless rain, and we stand beneath it, palms open, throats dry, asking for permission to breathe. i walked, and the earth changed as dreams do. the hills appeared shaved down to stubble, their ribs exposed. they did not cry out. they were too old for that. they only watched me. dust rose from them and entered my lungs. with every breath, i tasted the metallic air. the sky wore a permanent bruise. even the birds had learned to fly low, as if ashamed of the heavens. people moved around me like shadows. we did not look at one another. each of us carried an invisible tag saying "expendable". we were dying the way pests die, swept away in corners. and the great presence above us did not turn its head, for it had none. i wanted to ask "why is it so difficult?" the question rose in me like a wave, but before it could break, it dissolved into silence. the dream taught me that questions do not travel upward. they sink. as i woke up, one thought clung to me, heavy as smog: "maybe it will change. maybe it won’t. maybe we have come too far down this road, and turning back would require courage. we have forgotten how to practice." perhaps the tragedy is not that change is impossible, but that we keep choosing to sleep through the moments when we must wake up.

frenchkissing my demons this year.

i think i love crying while watching the moon

cheap labor

a senior complimented my writing today and i didn’t even know how to respond because HOW DO YOU RESPOND TO COMPLIMENTS???? is smiling and emoting an appropriate reaction?

थम जा फरवरी

i think it’s so important to have a sitcom you watch throughout every year. last year it was modern family. before that it was friends, and even before that it was vampire diaries. before all of this, it was my indian sitcoms. this year, it’s brooklyn 99. i love the idea of sitcoms. they’re so comforting. you can always go back to them after a bad day or a good day or just any day. they’re like a constant. and you do get attached to them very much and cry and get so very emotional when they end. i am so attached to every sitcom i have ever had in my life.

I AM THIS SONG. I WILL ALWAYS BE THIS SONG.