thesilentstoryteller

Latest Posts by thesilentstoryteller

We're made of stars, they say,

But cuts show blood, not stardust's sway.

Our hearts beat strong, yet emotions ache,

We search for light, and love's gentle make.

Poetries are the love letters that their rightful owners will never be able to read.

-nipuna

Nothing will ever emotionally destroy you more than the constant need to be understood by people who over and over again have proved to you that they will not understand you.

-nipuna

One of the most difficult things about growth is losing the person you've always been—stepping out of the layers you've always lived in. It's like walking away from your own skin, your own heart, and your own mind. What's scarier is that you can't pinpoint what's going on around you and inside you. You just know that something is constantly shifting, but you can't figure out if it's going to be favourable for you or not. You start seeing the world through eyes you're not used to yet. Some things get brighter, while others only seem to get darker and darker by the second. What scared me the most was that growth calls for a huge change in every aspect of your existence. You don't know yourself yet, but you start knowing the world. You start realising what's good for you and what's not—and that's not a novelty. It's something you realise everyday, but growth brings with it the courage to walk away from everything that doesn't deserve you. And that's hardest part of the process: turning back the story and starting from day one.

simran.

sorry i cant hang out i forgot how to mimic human like behaviour

When sorrow's shadow falls on love's remains,

Days pass with memories that bring only pain.

Tears fall like rain, a heart that's lost its way,

And unkind words cloud the light of each new day.

In dreams, I find solace, a fleeting peace,

A respite from the ache that love's loss can't release.

The days go by, a blur of endless strife,

A struggle to move on, to find a new life.

The love we had is gone, lost to the past,

A memory that haunts, a love that won't last.

Yet still I hold on to what we had found,

A bittersweet reminder of love's fragile ground.

The light in my eyes, once bright and bold,

Now fades away, a love that's grown cold.

- written by me

Sorry for having symptoms of a mental illness I literally told you I have it will happen again

My Secret Study

A hidden room, where shadows play

Fairy lights glow, candles light the way

Old books and vanilla, a scent so sweet

A place to escape, where I can retreat

Big windows show the stormy sky

Rain pounds against them, a lonely sigh

Nature's power, a reminder of my place

A humble student, in a vast, dark space

In this quiet room, I find my peace

A world of books, my heart's release

The occasional flash, a reminder of the night

A cozy sanctuary, where I take flight

~ Originally written by me

@thesilentstoryteller

The Darkest Flame

In Twilight hush, shadow play

I wander alone, through thoughts gray

Anger burns within, like a fire untamed

In solitude, I find my darkest self, my heart's deepest flame

In stillness, I hear my hearts beat

A rhythm echoing, through my minds define

A resolve to pursue, the knowledge that's mine.

~thesilentstoryteller

is anyone available to run me over with a car

every year i reach new lows and wish i killed myself earlier

My soul hurts so fucking bad, I feel like I'm being tormented everyday that I am alive. I do not want to keep going I do not want to see if tomorrow is better I'm ready to give up and im sick of Pretending that I'm happy living this so fucking called life.

Pardon my foolish heart, but we should go on a museum date

donna tartt: literally writes an entire 600 page book about how it can be dangerous to do things just for the aesthetic

us, already making pinterest boards: oh to be a classics student in vermont in the 80s drinking whiskey from a teacup and occasionally murdering people 

the secret history is so wild. like there's a hundred different analysis essays you could write about it and it's meaning and whatnot. but there's also a genius who thinks of elaborate ways to kill someone but didn't know or believe that the moon landing happened. they pull off the murder of their classmate and don't get caught. they try to hit a wasp with a prayer book during said classmate's funeral service. the unreliable narrator does cocaine in a burger king parking lot. said unreliable narrator lives in a hippie's house that has a hole in the roof in a vermont winter and doesn't realize it's literally killing him. the absolute hilarious unhinged energy from this book is overshadowed by a writing style where the most batshit things seem almost mundane. i love it.

It's the month of September, Romanticize? How could I? It's the period of heartbreak, when August slipped away into a moment of time. When everything is sad without any reason, when it's scary and a little lonely. The month of September, why is it too long already, when it's just a beginning.

“You cannot make everyone think and feel as deeply as you do. This is your tragedy … because you understand them, and they do not understand you.”

— Daniel Saint

I like the way you...

i need a man to be as obsessed with me as rigel wilde is with nica dove as badly as i need air

50 posts!

...and then there was you.

There's something undeniably special about Kailash Kher's music, particularly the way he captures the essence of a woman's perspective in love. Listening to his songs feels like being truly seen and understood. The vulnerability, the intensity, the all-encompassing joy that comes with loving someone completely.

Thank you, Kailash Kher

You’re healing countless hearts:)

When the poet said:

"Yaani yai khamoshi bhi kisi kaam ki nahi, yaani main bayaan kar ke batao ki udaas hoon.”

And Wajid Shaikh beautifully replied:

“Phir lazim tou nahi ke jo dil mein baste hon woh dil ka haal bhi jante ho?”

These lines made me stop for a while >>>

In English we say : I don't trust anyone

But in urdu Wajid Shaikh said:

Kuch logo ke chehre mene itne kareeb se dekh liye,ke har kisi se mera yakeen uth gaya

That feminine urge this, masculine urge that ….

Yeah, okay , cool

But what about the Lunar urge to ritualistically disappear every couple of weeks ?

the urge to die and become nothing becomes stronger every day

TSH spoilers:

I feel like we as a fandom do not talk about Henry’s symbolism in TSH enough. Like, that dude is the literal embodiment of death, and I just think it’s so damn cool. I mean, his whole obsession with language and literature stemmed from the fact that he almost died in a car accident. And then every death we see in the book (the farmer’s, Bunny’s, and his very own) is directly at his hands. The others were accomplices, sure, but Henry’s the one who takes action every time. And in Francis’s failed suicide and Richard’s near death in the epilogue, they both see Henry, not Bunny or Charles or what have you.

Henry is not only obsessed with death, he IS death. He’s the reaper who’s friends toy with their mortality all the time through drugs and booze. The reason they all admire him is not only because of his size and stature and brilliance; it’s because he’s dangerous. If beauty is indeed terror, than he’s the most beautiful of them all. They all have the life preservation skills of a fly, so of course they love Henry. And of course his actions constantly bring them closer to danger and death.

the feminine urge to just want to run away to the Scottish highlands and listen to Hozier all day and write poetry and read classics