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[tdbwoman]

Sometimes you're not reminiscing merely old times but the previously unchanged people in those old times

- rumaisash

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[tdbwoman]

When we love people and have to let them go, away from us, we leave a mark on them. When they come back, we sniff it on them like a dog sniffs a piece of cloth stained with blood. They never know what that mark is, we never tell them so they never will. We put it on them when they never notice. I have sniffed it myself and I have been lucky sometimes and sometimes not but hear this, no matter what they do or don't do when they return doesn't matter at all. It's all about the mark. Because we have all our hopes pinned on it and just it alone.

The rest is or isn't important. They can come back to you hurling swear words at you, but you will still smile, you will still lift up with joy because you have sniffed them already and you just know.

You know they're still there. They never left. Not at all.

#tdbwoman

-rumaisash

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[tdbwoman]

Favorite color?
I say black
But with too much black
around me,
I get sick
So what makes you think
that my description
of my favorite person,
would outlive his life?

- tdbwoman

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[tdbwoman]

She wreaked havoc in her home but her family didn't bat an eyelid.

No one bats an eyelid in her new home too. Except there, she cries her eyes out.

(Home sweet home)

-rumaisash

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[tdbwoman]

Criminals, assasins, murderers, monsters and what not, and then come the ordinary, average, usual people

How hunger makes them all look the same: innocent and pitiable

-rumaisash

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[tdbwoman]

"So you are telling me that you don't believe in anything that you write? Is that it? "

The person being questioned, stiffens in their seat, sighs, half rolls their eyes, forces a kind smile and begins to speak.

" Well obviously the strand generates in my head. And it isn't born out of nothing

But what I'm trying to tell you is that maybe I only start the story with what's in my head.

However, once I take up the pen and start drawing pathways, I can lead you anywhere I want. And once I get the feeling that you're following my lead, I honestly feel so powerful; I can screw with your head anyway I want.

Trust me," she pauses to smile,

"don't trust me."

[...1 hour later...]

The interviewer leaves.

The PA walks in,

"So? How many people did we fool today?" He jokes, playfully.

She chuckles softly,

"Today? None. Just myself. Like always."

comes the reply.

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[tdbwoman]

Stars.

If they don't shine one night

The sky feels empty, empty like a void, similar to the one i feel inside myself.

But i have to believe, that they're present, because they are.

If I believe they're present, then why cant I believe that there's some 'substance' hidden inside my void too. I have just not grasped it yet. Just like those stars that i keep trying so hard to see, but can't see. Because of a cloudy night or because the sun is not looking their way, i don't know.

But what's important is that the 'substance' is there, right in front of me, it's ME who's blindfolded, reaching out, arms spread out

I don't know if what I'm trying to hold and keep close is what i want or not, by God i wish i did

But I don't, and so I pick it up and do what you do when you are blinded,

i try to put all of my hands around it to feel it and see what it is . Like a man that cannot see . And then i decide if i need to keep it or throw it away, back into the void.

It's an exhausting job.

And if you end up throwing it away , after all that time spent scrutinizing it, it feels more exhausting because it has a deceivingly negative illusion to it, of not being fruitful, but it is, it is fruitful. You're closer. Closer to the ... 'right things' , perhaps ...

The right star is present there, somewhere, and the blindfold is time. If I remove it or try to remove it, the game ends,

I'm dead

And so i have no choice but to play this one hell of fked up game

Humans call it life.

— tdbwoman

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[tdbwoman]

"How many people are there inside?" , he said, pointing to her head, "I think I manage to convince them all, except one. That one's always frowning at me"

"Don't worry. That one's never been convinced of anything. Not for long. But I like it, it keeps me safe", she smiled as they both clutched at their wedding rings instead of each other.

-rumaisash

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[tdbwoman]

There is a whiff of home about you, emotionally, but also physically, in for example your lack of deodorant, and for her, home carries with it connotations of sorrow and brutality, connotations that elicit signals from her to you to be punishing, but these you misinterpret, and so they remain unacted upon

— Mohsin Hamid, How to get filthy rich in rising Asia

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[tdbwoman]

Spaces you can fill

with anything you want.

What do you fill a void with?

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[tdbwoman]

It is undeniably cute, when someone , who is drowned in the depths of words, make-believe to many, just to understand and probably feel them, calls himself a practical

But it is torturous , when another similar yet distinct person, far far away , happily and honestly announces themselves an idealist, gets locked up and shut off for it and isn't let out until they change their statement.

However, worst of all is that only some of you will ever truly understand what this means

- rumaisash

(notes from a "practical" idealist)

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[tdbwoman]

"Pretty perfect"

I wonder what the world looked like before 'pretty perfect' took over

Wonder how people saw through each other's shortcomings without that judgmental frown

Wonder when was it when someone looked like they had a break down and nobody mentioned the part where they 'looked' like a disaster

Wonder when was it when women didn't know what makeup was

Wonder when our clothes didn't define who we were

Wonder when people were too busy to think of fashion

Wonder when every shade of skin was thought of as worthy as white is

Wonder when people didn't need to deliberately starve themselves to look good

Wonder when the air was as fresh as the face of a newborn

Today

My grandma's jewelry is getting rusted

My skin is suddenly ugly

My hair not straight enough

My eyebrows not thick enough

My body not good enough

You are suddenly not tall enough

Your voice not heavy enough

Your wrist watch not good enough

Your jokes not 'cultured' enough

You begin to smoke to make up for it

Try to find a vibe without having one

I wear make up to make up for it

Try to look pretty without being it

You watch tv shows you don't like

To use their references

In conversations you don't like

I wear branded outfits

To look elegant and not amongst the 'misfits'

We go out not to make new memories

But to update our insta feeds

We stay up all night to see the sunrise

Not for the joy to experience it with one another

But because we need to boast on our Facebook

We hold hands not because we're in love

But because it makes us 'look' happy

We don't know each other really

How could we?

Our facades are too large

They overshadow our realities even when we're alone

We have so many followers

So many people wanting our life, our places

And yet we both still wonder

Why is it never enough?

And so

today i just began to wonder

What the world looked like

when it was real

Before 'pretty perfect' took over

- rumaisash

(Instagram: @_rumaisash )

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[tdbwoman]

It is perhaps a greater sorrow to not understand another's words for us than it is to not have our own understood by them.

Romantics say love needs no language, but I say words need one.

No understanding can ever develop and blossom in silence. Before you argue let me agree that gestures are a great deal of help, indeed, they are. But those of us who speak, who can speak, barely use them let alone understand them. This generation doesn’t know patience like the older ones might have done so. We constantly need using of all of our senses, connecting them all with the other, and yet we are not fully satisfied.

How can two people, without understanding each other, believe in each other?

And thus goes my predicament, How can love not need a language?

- rumaisash

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[tdbwoman]

Maybe the only presence that you need by your side sometimes is a silent shadow watching over you and nodding at whatever you make or break, whatever insane things you do just to mend and fix yourself. But who wants to believe in a fallen, crumbled building promising to build into a better one , no they want to come talk business when it's done constructing

— tdbwoman

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[tdbwoman]

"I just felt that me doing that would somehow make things weird"

"But that's completely normal, I don't see what's weird about it?"

"Well, haven't you heard, what's normal for the spider is chaos for the fly"

"Who is the spider and the fly, in our case?"

"You're the spider, you like making your webs around, and then you leave. I am the fly, I get stuck"

- tdbwoman

excerpt from a book, (who knows) i might write one day

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[tdbwoman]

One thing that I'm really proud of is the soothing wind of my city.

A wind so calming and peaceful, no air conditioning in the world could ever be enough to compare to it, let alone replace it.

Over the years, we have built quite a connection between each other. I would go through the highlights of my day while she would swing by with my hair flying behind me and making me close my eyes graciously.

Sometimes when i feel sick of home , i like to come upstairs to the roof, to the only thing that calms my racing nerves.

As if aware of my desire to flee, she always hits at my face in anger when I get there. Like the anger of a seemingly perfect and beautiful woman shockingly rejected by quite an ordinary guy.

And then I have to make my amends by telling her that I could want to be in any corner of the world, I could want to spend days , even months in any place that is not this, but at the end of the day, I'm coming back home like any other being.

Sometimes you need to be places that are not home to remember, realize and be grateful for the comfort provided by your home. But life is not to be lived with comfort, because too much comfort gets boring, which is why life keeps you occupied with ups and downs. I have seen people 'endure' their downs but not many people are really 'grateful' for the downs in their life.

However quite recently, I've begun to be grateful for the downs in mine. Because without these moments life becomes stagnant, it stinks and catches germs. You might think the other person who is munching their favorite food while lying back on a bed of roses with a good calming view outside the window is really happy and lucky to be there but that's just your perspective. And I've said this before and will say it again, perspective

is one hell of a bitch.

Despite all the apparent glory, their eyes might not be allowing them any real light inside to enjoy or appreciate their surroundings and blessings. Unlike yours. It's like when the light goes off and someone puts a torch in your face. For the other person, you are lit with light while they remain dark but for you it's just a stupid bright light blinding you in your face.

So back to my soothing wind, whom i shall forever adore. And if you haven't been to my city, it's time to really think again because this bitch will make you stay and fall in love with her. It's used to people leaving her for the glory of bigger cities but she knows, she knows they'll come running back in her arms when the bright city lights wont be able to provide enough peace for a good night's sleep.

Which reminds me I'm off to bed too now. Good night.

— tdbwoman

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