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Rantings Of A Beautiful Mind

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She drinks liquid gold from the sun to sing in a golden voice to the moon, girls like her will always spill light from their lips even when surrounded by utter darkness and gloom.
- Nikita Gill
 
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A traveller in the wild lands,
Comes by a Camellia tree,
Adorn with soft white flowers,
Like a pearl in the deep blue sea.

Captured, the traveller halts,
Taking the scent in and resting,
So unaware of the passing time,
Finding their beauty so arresting.

But with time, spring passes by,
The sea wind comes and softly sighs,
Whispers, and the flowers they fall,
Heeding its sweet and tempting lies.

The white camellias float down,
go with the stream for no reason
The snow-white flowers now lost,
To the passings of the season.

Salman Shahid Khan
 
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You are monsoon wrapped in the skin of girl the day you aunt tells you how you must act in front of boys. Girls like you must never look them in the eye. Don’t forget what happens when boys look in the direction of girls that carry the sky in their eyes and the world weighing down on their shoulders. Girls who have seen great sadness very young look vulnerable, like prey and some men are wolves. They will eat you alive.

You are too hungry inside your own sadness, and when you love, you love like torrential rain – heavy and intense. You are too soft hearted and hard headed, and she is afraid how many around you can see that as a weakness. Some people will want to feed on the chaos that you call your soul, drain the good from it, leave the confusion for you to handle. Those are the people you need to run from, but like a magnet, those are the people that attract you the most. It’s as if you are on self destruct mode, unable to stop yourself from falling in love with damaged things, even wild ones that bare teeth to rip you apart when you grow closer to touch them.


The first time you have your heart broken, it is in the rain. You are so much like a big empty dark room full of forgotten things that were once loved too deeply, lit up by the lightning of a thunderstorm. The thing is, he explains, girls like you should be loved completely or not at all, and the truth is, even wen you are in pain, you don’t hate him for this. Actually, his leaving you also left you with the knowledge that you needed before loving him. To walk into that room, turn on the light and love those things inside yourself before anyone else can love them.


The second time you have your heart broken, it is in the rain. This time, you stand there, letting the water wash over you, and your tears. You are learning from the rain how she never cries or apologises when she falls.


There will come a morning, when you are drinking tea and looking out the window at the rainfall, that you have been looking for answers in the arms of people who want to treat you like you are the sun, but you are not. You are monsoon. And you are finally beginning to realise that carrying the rain under your skin, and the calm before a storm in your eyes is a blessing not a curse.


One night when you are watching a storm, you will understand what she and you have in common. You are both lonely creatures. The difference is that the storm loves her lonely so much that she lets it dance and sing as loudly as she wants, whereas you despise yours.


That is the day you learn to love your lonely.


That is the day you learn you love yourself.


Because you realise that you are a hurricane trapped in the body of a girl. And you don’t need someone who can survive your storm.


You are simply in dire need of loving the hurricane, the thunder, the lightning…the dangerous beauty that makes you whole.



Nikita Gill, For Girls Made of Storms and Sadness
 
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