The heaviest part of my soul is, ironically, the void.

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बहक ना जाए किसिकी निगाह महफ़िल में…
पहन कर इतना सुंदर लिबास मत बैठो |

हम भी तुम्हारे चाहने वाले हैं ख़ुदा की क़सम…
हमारे सामने तो किसी और के पास मत बैठो।

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There are two types of people.
Hollow, and Shallow.

And most of the time the hollow are hollow is because the shallow are shallow.

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The shallow shores are kind, but dreadful.
For someone that has lurked in the depths, for far too long.

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The preachers of peace,
would rather you be hollow,
than full of poison.
Forever reminding you,
of what has been carved out from the inside.

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Friday the 13th is still better than Monday the whatever.

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Take me back,
To the time.

When nuance didn't exist.

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The invincibles of their times have all died a long time ago.

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I always want to lead a conversation that I also do not want to be a part of.

Am I becoming Zarathustra?

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We are all imposters.

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