Wandering through history

A train going backwards, a swing raped by the air

Carrying false hope, rough tracks call for adventure

How can you know? You just do

How can you tell? It’s a mirror set to clear itself

A sequence of origami flying over your head

Making you believe paper was the real thing instead

One bald patch, does not indicate success

Neither does a tired spirit, or the desire to be somebody else

You’re a copy of a copy of a copy

Metamorphosing into the tertiary

Forgetting the primary, the prime, sublime.

I don’t hold my quill in hopes of,

sticking it back to the arse it detached from!

Neither do I wish to conquer it

For shedding its skin

Over my skin

Like a tint of paint in water

Certain thoughts outspread, and dissolve into what needs to melt

Never would I have known, that a city in ruins

Compared to a jigsaw, was far less confusing

A wise man once read the wonders of the world

By admitting that he wasn’t meant to be

Just another person wandering through history

Secrets don’t just unfold onto anyone…


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Hi. Now that you're here...let's just get this out of the way. I hadn't introduced myself in the past because when I first started this blog, I wanted it to be purely about my writing. This is not, and was never supposed to be, an anonymous blog. However, after almost a year of inactivity, I realize an 'about' section is...necessary? My name's Sadia. I live in Islamabad, Pakistan. Between uni/work/life in general, I try to take time to write. I own all content on this blog. Although, I do NOT own the images posted here, nor do I take credit for them whatsoever. I wanted to thank my visitors, for still being loyal and genuine after this long. In case you want to know more about me for whatever inexplicable reason, ask ahead and I'll get back to you! This right here, keeps me sane. You will find here, sincere thoughts mixed up with a subconscious trying to fuck it all up. I hope you understand. Love, Sadia.

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