• prapti_upadhayay 12w

    "i will write alot today" she said while going home from a long trip. it was her way to vent. hoping someone would read and actually understand what happened, why she got pissed after watching the boxes lying in a shop in an unsymmetrical manner or why she was cursing herself during the ride way back. these are some little things, nobody asks. but these are the only things she wants to talk about. because all the other things bring pain. they hurt. they make her think. and she doesn't like doing that. she writes because nobody asks her about the sunsets she saw, about the local vendors she met. she writes because she wants to be heard. to be seen. she's like a plant, a fragile one. but at the same time, when she sat to write, not a single word came out. "how's that possible?" she thought. maybe because she's tried. tired of telling even when no one asks, tired of shouting into the abyss. she's actually tried of sending love letters to the sea hoping that someone would read them.