Have you ever wondered, if you had never written that first phrase of your poetry or the first sentence of your blog, how would your life have been right now?
Just a random human with built up emotions, unable to unpack the load of sentiments because no one really cared enough to bother themselves.
So, you penned down all the suffering, pain, love, complaints, everything you felt, because you started believing that venting in front of your ‘notes’ is way better than your own people.
How weird is this? People claim to love you and still fail to understand your insecurities. Instead of supporting you to feel more, they forbid you to feel anything at all. Because they think, you are overreacting or overthinking. Rude, isn’t it?
I remember the first time I wrote. I was 15. Even though it was just some random rhyming lines of a song that…
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