She was, in fact , a child of the moon. Wandering around aimlessly, in the dark. ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚

my secret fantasy.- opening up a café with a library inside, where i possess innumerable knowledge power to understand and converse with different species of animals and birds- to just be swept away by the waves in the seashore and float away from my responsibilities-to climb up the beanstalk in that jack and the beanstalk fairytale.craziest thing I have ever done-.- stole a candy from a shop because mom wont let me buy it ( I was 7 years)-climbed up an old tree without my parent's supervision and getting sick from the moss and fungus on it the next day.my chill out spot.- café, garden, bedroom, rainy weather, night time when stars are clearly visible, countryside, by the sea waves, library, my home.which season?- winter and spring:)what scares you?- being in an abandoned building, horror stories, dentists are my mortal enemy. The ocean and space fascinates me as well as scares me as I’m diving into the unknown

I STUDY WELL, I STUDY REGULARLY AND I WORK HARD AND SMART TO CLEAR MY EXAMS. I HAVE A SHARP MEMORY AND I EASILY UNDERSTAND AND RETAIN WHATEVER I STUDY.I LAY EMPHASIS ON UNDERSTANDING THE SUBJECT RATHER THAN LEARNING BY NOTE WHICH MAKES LEARNING FUN. I ACCEPT REGULAR AND SYSTEMATIC STUDIES AS A WAY OF LIFE.STRAIGHT A'S, HEALTHY MENTAL HEALTH, I CAN DO IT, SUPER MEMORY!!

FOR, I WAS JUST A LEAFStretching towards the sky, nestled in the branch,
Amidst a lush garden, did I launch.
Spring had bloomed, warmth wrapping 'round,
wildflowers in sprawling meadows emerge, waving to the wind sound.
Petals unfolded like a brushstroke, a flower stood tall,
Fawning people passing by, captured visual delight of all.
Sharp edges of the guardian thorns protected it around,
Bud, to await it’s unfurl beauty, did it’s glorify count.
Exuding an intoxicating fragrance, a flower I did befriend,
Captivated by its presence, in envy, did I bend.
For, I was just a leaf.Invisible- Inadequate- being overshadowed in me, did it delve,
Yet, solace resided of not fearing to be picked and losing myself.
What was happiness, did I not know,
Existing on the just the surface, for myself, I did grow.
For, I was just a leaf.Seasons changed, air crisped, autumn came on,
Cycle of life unfolded, harsh memories gone.
Loosening the grip of the branch, carried by the wind, I fall,
sensing acceptance of the nearing end, it was indeed my last call.
Joining softly on the tapestry with the other fallen leaves, a revelation was coming,
Though fleeting, my insignificant life could have a meaning.
Footsteps approached, with eager faces, gradually crumbling me away,
My dried state was helpful for once- in people’s minds, a satisfaction it could convey.
For, I was just a crunchy serotonin-rushing dried leaf.SMILING AT THE STRANGER IN THE MIRRORIsolation was asking for a company, again. I knew this without hesitation. For as long as I can remember, it had been ages since I pondered what really lied beneath me, what I was to me, and most significant of all, was my identity my everything? I whispered to myself, “talk to me”, but the shadows within gave a wink and were keeping the answers as a hostage for a while. A hostage by seeking peace from me, for it knew, if I revealed myself, the chaos would tear me in and out, sucking the stability of my mind “dry”. I really needed to hear the cries of the inner me, just be myself, but instead, shunned it in helplessness, hoping the society accepts me for a while.I don’t think I know myself truly, where I originate, where my ideals are placed upon, where I lie within myself. I am influenced by every single dust that surrounds me, and this change is scary. I am a mix of places I have been, the environment I grew up, the people I have met, the things I have experienced, the feelings I have had, things sparking joy in me, and things shattering me to bleed. A storm leading me to keep a diary, a friend leading to the demise of my inner child, a mother forcing to bury my thoughts inside, and a home isolated from the city helping to find solace in nature, are instances where I have been made and remade again and again. My memory has been tampered with, I have been changing, and I can’t find the same person in me, right, at this instant, and so, keeping diaries are a saviour.I have this portrayal of me that exists in my mind, and that is, a dreamer, a moonchild, a rain lover, observer, and the one who speaks to the stars because they don’t have an ounce of judgment in their souls. But what if such depiction is false? The questions arise because bounded by assignments, I don’t stargaze frequently, I haven't dreamed much lately, I have started using umbrellas even for a slight drizzle. What if I was just romanticizing myself, my life and viewpoints in order to be the perfect image I have carved in my mind? What if what I perceived to be me wasn’t really me? What if the person in the mirror is a stranger?Dimensions of answers reach out to overlap the another, but if a way to be happy can be found by listening to the music in mundane things, I think that’s just all what it matters, at the end of my life. I’m still in a dilemma as it’s good for me to suffer, because I tend to make art, make myself feel something, through the tragedy of drowning in my own thoughts. Ironically, that’s me, in a delusion of me playing a role in my own Shakespearean tragedy.PEISKOSIt began to downpour on just a random thursday
the streets glistened and reflected the city as it may
people cozy in their beds for only today
and from the window, watch the car swoosh by
followed by a heart ease sigh
waving the scorching heat a goodbyeBut, this kept going on from day to day
In the bitter cold, the beautiful cocktail blue shade of the sky began to darken into gravel grey
Plaintively, I sensed tingles running down my spine
In due course of time, i realised that I was not really fine
Mumbling words, crooning tunes of my thought
In a bedlam, was i caught
lost in a world beside the fireplace
enjoying the exhilarating warmth of the blazeIn the bleak weather, what mesmerized me was the flickering of the flames
A warmth from the fiery red hue mixed sunshine came
I yearned to hear the cracking noise for hours
For, in the room, embodied the soothing and calm powers
"Knock knock" i could hear a tap on the door
I glanced at the stranger who looked anxious in his drenched clothes, and couldnt ask for more
with the same perplexity and bewilderment we shared
the same solace and comfort between us was paired
for an instance, it seemed that the warmth we shared was partly because of the fire
or was it just my wishful desire?