The Dangers of Self-Diagnosis

Originally posted on Psych 101:
In a period of life where we have ample resources and scarce time, reaching dangerous conclusions can often seem inevitable. But even more than that, teens have begun to assume that they have a mental illness simply because of what they have heard or see common in their peers. Not only…


​an ode to a colour I’m so smitten with; allow me to paint your wind-ruffled cheeks with blue, beneath the dusty layer of cacophonies you absorb. the pastels scraped from in between your bitten nails, believe me, sing the ballads of mixed daydreams of the tones of Indigo and violet and turquoise. let me tell … More Blue


The soil isn’t the place where they buried me, oh vain wanderer. It’s in the little cracks and crevices of their mind, where I was interred with the sprinkling of the mosaics of madness and the rush of memories. The little worms of wistfulness that slither in their nerves make them jitter, for they know … More Cracks

Come let’s play

Come let’s play, under the roof of forked sheds woven from the interlocking sighs of stars in the breathing sky. Come let’s play, darling as the world eulogies the breaking bonds that shackles their nocturnal nights. Come let’s play under that valley, possessively coated with the paint of God’s hand, with its delicate fingertips encompassing … More Come let’s play

Behold you

Behold you, rationalized from the retina of raging fireflies of embossed nights.  Behold you, painted from the brushstrokes of dusk which falls on the creases in between your pillows as you leap from universes on the thin strands of fantasy that is made of your steely words. Behold you, the way of your charisma peeking … More Behold you


Its an itch actually. A quite old one. That I’ve been with for so long, that it has frozen into my already paralyzed roots. I sigh, today was a bad day. Those pretty ladies wearing flowery dress, oh what an irony, and with eyes full of the wasted expression of being hopelessly in love, came … More Flower


I walked in bereft melancholy Over to the temple that rested upon the shoulders of dark red earth Which hid the coffins of desires That men released With a sunken visage o with a sunken heart I gently grazed the veins of a quartered queue which stood in attention With resplendent voices of appeal To … More Temple