#ritika jyala

[saltair-and-webweaves]

Words from the mouths of babes, promises ocean deep. But never to keep.

@inanotherunivrse/cocaine jesus - rainbow kitten surprise/fredrick backman, us against you/i lost a friend - finneas/poem - langston hughes/ocean vuong, on earth we’re briefly gorgeous/the underrated heartache - rupi kaur/@sarakleijn/unknown/motion sickness - phoebe bridgers/ @honeytuesday/saw ur mom at the grocery store - abby cates/louise glück, seizure/@thundersoon/ bronze - the regrettes/ritika jyala, the world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire/i still forget we’re not even friends - trista mateer/the light that shines when things end - anonymous/couch sleeper, unknown site/ @saltair-and-palemoonlight/i lost a friend - finneas/dear friend, - dayglow/peter - taylor swift

Requested here

[ritikajyala]

and nothing helps, no amount of rest, no green teas, no walks in nature. I bleed on paper and it smells like roses, roses full of thorns, thorns digging into my chest, and I bleed on paper. And the next morning, I find the words too cringe and the roses look like dried blood, clotted into me, heart full of clots. And the night comes again, and you ask me how I am. I tell you nothing helps, not the walks, not the teas, no rest. And I bleed on paper.

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The Flesh I Burned

[sicknessinmotion]

I MISS YOUR SMILE: ON ABANDONMENT

ritika jyala // michael cunningham // euripedes // lord huron - the night we met // richard siken // coldplay - the scientist

[fairydrowning]

"All my teenage years, I had bottled up anger and grief and promised myself I'd never cry but when I sat down with her hands in my hand and looked her in the eye, all the anger turned into tears. I sobbed for hours and she sat there, rubbing my back. That's when I saw. Growing up is also tearing down walls, it's also letting go of the anger."

– Ritika Jyala, Excerpt From "The Flesh I Burned"

[asoftepiloguemylove]

intimacy through oranges

Jacques Prevert Alicante / Youqing Wang (via @cheruib) / pinterest / Ritika Jyala The Flesh I Burned / pinterest / @/chaandajaan-moved (tumblr) / Hafsa Qasim / @itsbaditsgood

[oldwinesoul]

“February arrives like a train and runs over the bones of January, and just like that-the death of a new year.”

// Ritika Jyala, excerpt from “The Flesh I Burned”

[chemicallyrotten]

[yourpostisonpinterest]

@ritikajyala

i found your post on pinterest!

[mypaperlesstowns]

no, because trauma doesn't just go away when someone pretends to understand you. And you say you're fine and I'm okay but can't stand the silence ringing in your head. how many movies and series and books and stupid fucking reels do you need to feel something again? I'm sorry for the 6 missed calls, I read your texts and in my head, I told you everything.

[s-atrn]

How I dreamt of growing up as a child

I hardly remember anything from my childhood; maybe it was because I didn't want to. I do however remember dreaming of growing up. Yearning for time to go faster, to finally get that independence. So I can finally say, "I can do whatever I want to now because I'm older!"

Alas!

Now that I am older, I now understand why the old folks from my neighborhood told me I should enjoy being a kid, while it lasts. I dreamt of growing up as a kid; now that I have, I begin dreaming once more, but of going back to being a child again. Where I could come home playing with the kids in the neighborhood, not minding any homework. I'd love to spend time with my Mansanitas tree again. Where I buried my trinkets I thought were treasures as a child, eating the little red berries as a snack while playing with a collection of toys me and my sister shared. Now I come home with a broken heart; reminiscing, remembering, longing for a memory that I will never be able to experience again.

But remembering a memory does not mean it is lost forever. I suppose growing up remembering little things of your childhood simply means that you are still a child. I grew up wanting my own independence without fully knowing what it was in the first place. As a child, I thought it simply meant never needing anyone. Well, I was wrong. At age 20, I am still clueless of what lies ahead, how to prepare myself from what they call, "the cruel reality of this world".

And I am still, gladly, a child growing up; I suppose we all are. I suppose we all have to be.

-S-atrn, Of What is to be

[sejal-jadhav]

" My mind said- Live your life as young soon we will arrive on December. "

[ritikajyala]

They cut down my favourite tree, the tree of my childhood. Lichen grew on its trunk and squirrels climbed its branches. And they ask girls why we’re angry, so full of rage, dormant volcanoes. The tree was my childhood and its branches my god, the tree was my childhood and its roots my tether, its leaves my dreams. The tree was my childhood and they cut it down. They ask me why I’m angry and I ask them to regrow my tree, give me back my girlhood.

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The Flesh I Burned

[t-fall]

as a child, i was always searching for the meaning of it all, the big why; and my father always said that there is no one big purpose but i had the most ripe orange today and kissed my cat goodnight, and i think that's enough purpose for today.

[asoftepiloguemylove]

i just downloaded this app and you're one of the best ones i've followed! i love your page so much! I wonder if you're still open for requests? If you are, please post something about a connection that felt so forced and full of misunderstanding. But if you aren't, I don't really mind! I'm loving your page already anyway! Have a nice day :")

Hishaam Siddiqi Where did you go? / Philippe de Champaigne Saint Augustin / pinterest / @jovialtorchlight / Ritika Jyala The world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire

[umtempopramim]

Quando criança, eu estava sempre buscando o significado disso tudo, o "grande porquê"; e meu pai sempre me dizia que não havia um grande propósito, mas hoje eu comi a laranja mais madura e dei um beijo de boa noite em meu gato, acho que isso é próposito suficiente por um dia.

[significant-narratives]

and who would i be, without my brother? (insp) (insp)

jonas sigel, the making of william nylander / pontus höök, instagram / michael nylander, wikipedia / jonas sigel, the making of william nylander / maurice sendak, transcript of npr interview / jonas sigel, the making of william nylander / billie eilish, birds of a feather / post media network, 'he’s always there for us': sports a family affair for michael nylander and his hockey- and tennis-playing children / toronto star via getty images / original edit / mark masters, nylander brothers primed to push each other in toronto / ajr, turning out / lance hornby, alex nylander joins brother william in toronto - with the marlies / ritika jyala, from the world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire / brett slawson, alex nylander a bust? / unverified source / david alter, the hockey news / unverified source / william nylander, twitter / dustin pearson, the world at its beginning / william nylander, wikipedia / kodaline, brother / alex nylander, wikipedia / original edit based off this tiktok comment / toronto maple leafs, twitter / mark blinch, instagram