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मुझे मन नहीं कर रहा है कि मैं यहाँ रहूं । इतना डर, यहाँ रहने में । यहाँ से कई बहुत दूर मैं पहुँच जाऊँ, यही सही है। मगर तभ भी ऐसा लगे गा कि मैं अपने आप से ही भाग रहा हूँ, जो मुनकिन नहीं है। यहाँ पर कुछ मरा हुआ है। एक लाश। मेरी ही लाश।
you can tell when sth’s died in a place, for generations. there are places in india where the inner children of people have been dead for so long, they are but husks of traders, social norm enforcers, and forgotten hope that someday a generation might be born that’s not this
there is no warm welcome; no one is accountable to that. it’s a city after all. who will come check on me to make sure im okay? which community will stretch itself to make sure i don’t fall through the cracks? there are cracks wide enough for entire souls to fall through
but to have a market and not have a family is to be split from god, goodness, and the warmth of the human fabric we’ve fundamentally lived in for generations https://t.co/pnPVG5rsDz
i don’t think this is so different than how i felt most of my life. it just sucks now. i know better’s possible in LA, i loved the beach, and the beach loved me. i loved my people, i loved my singing teacher, and she loved me. and even on days i didn’t feel loved, i felt seen https://t.co/pTfU6xqmY0
> The only way to survive in San Francisco is to make things https://t.co/t7ZQVGkTf0
☝️ back to main thread https://t.co/HUIziSnq09