Beauty is not in meeting standards of society. Beauty is being urself. This is what the sky teaches us. It stays the way it wants and we find it beautiful.
Dear Diary, Today, I tried making a recipe—just like Mum. I failed. Dear Diary, Today, I tried something new. It wasn’t perfect. But I savoured the process. And, truth be told, it wasn’t half bad. We spend our lives chasing perfection— Striving to get things “just right,” Holding our breath for the best possible outcome. But somewhere along the way, we forget: There is no such thing as the best. In theory, a cricketer in a T20 match could score 720 runs— Six runs off every ball. Perfect. At least on paper. But we don’t account for no-balls, wides, strike rotations, the chaos between deliveries. Life is just like that match. Wickets fall. People leave. Wide balls happen. And sometimes, those we thought were forever Turn out to be seasonal flus— Brief, burning, gone. Nothing is permanent. And there is no universal rulebook on how to live. No perfect method. No flawless recipe. The only way to live life right Is to live it for real. To show up, imperfectl...
On the walls of delusion in my mind, There hangs a portrait of reality. I often walk past it, Sometimes stopping to give it a long, lingering stare. But only from a distance— I am intrigued by its details, Yet overwhelmed by the chaos it brings. This is the world I am meant to inhabit, Yet how can I belong to it When I am truly here, Stuck between worlds? A tap on my shoulder— I turn to find a version of myself, A whisper: “You don’t belong there.” Now, I stand at the edge, Caught between fighting my reality And embracing the one I long to join. I delay, but time never waits. The moment is here, I must step into the real world now, Face its chaos head-on. So I push forward, Drawing closer to the reality I’ve feared, ...
This is what we have to realize
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