Authors – My Spirals

To my favorite author.

Dear John Green,

Spoiler alert for anyone who hasn’t read his books.

Your books are paper, but your stories are not. Thank you. Thank you for teaching me so much about love, life, friends, ourselves, our choices, the marks that we leave and about the great perhaps. For the thousand times you put into simple words the emotions that humanity has been struggling to understand. I know you did not define what love is, but you did tell me what it looks like, John Green. You made me realize that pain demands to be felt and that the world is not a wish-granting factory like the Genie. You taught me that everything except the last thing is survivable.

You were the light at the end of the road, reminding me that we never have to be hopeless because we can never be irreparably broken. You told me that love is keeping the promise anyway. You made me look for Alaska, and you made me let her go. You taught me that the only way out of the labyrinth of suffering is to forgive. You told me that everything that happened is just a fabrication of things as I remember them. You made me aware of the spiral of my thoughts and that life ends in the middle of a sentence.

You put me on the roller coaster with Augustus Waters and Hazel Grace Lancaster, and you showed me what love can look like. You gave me serious traveling goals for my bucket list, John Green.

“I fell in love the way you fall asleep: Slowly, and then all at once.”

You taught me that some infinities are bigger infinities, but they’re infinities nevertheless. And that everything is a side-effect of dying. You made me believe in friendships and forevers, no matter how long they last. When Augustus used his wish for Hazel, I realized that love is not necessarily fancy dates and pretty gifts. Its a thought wrapped in colors of patience, sacrifice, care, and humor. When Q looked for Margo, when he believed that she had left clues for him, and when he got angry when she didn’t turn out to be like the image he had, I learned to accept everything as it is, to do whatever it takes to find the thing I love and to be real.

You taught me that love is not ending up together, and you taught me that it is turtles all the fucking way down. Hazel and Gus, Aza and David, Pudge and Alaska, Q and Margo are all part of me now. Thank you for gifting me the ultimate dumpees. You see, what you must understand about me is that I am a deeply unhappy person, and you made me happy, John Green.

Yours,

Just another fan.

If you want to connect with me on Facebook, click here.
Instagram handle: @myspirals

Previous post: Inside my head.
Related post: Palettes of life.

Friends, if you like reading my work, do share it with your friends (on whatever social media you deem appropriate). It would be amazing to have more people reading my compositions. Please help my infinity grow bigger ∞

Kiss me slow.

This is how you should kiss her every time.

“Kiss her. Slowly, take your time, there’s no place you’d rather be. Kiss her but not like you’re waiting for something else, like your hands beneath her shirt or her skirt or tangled up in her bra straps. Nothing like that. Kiss her like you’ve forgotten any other mouth that your mouth has ever touched. Kiss her with a curious childish delight. Laugh into her mouth, inhale her sighs. Kiss her until she moans. Kiss her with her face in your hands. Or your hands in her hair. Or pulling her closer at the waist. Kiss her like you want to take her dancing. Like you want to spin her into an open arena and watch her look at you like you’re the brightest thing she’s ever seen. Kiss her like she’s the brightest thing you’ve ever seen. Take your time. Kiss her like the first and only piece of chocolate you’re ever going to taste. Kiss her until she forgets how to count. Kiss her stupid. Kiss her silent. Come away, ask her what 2+2 is and listen to her say your name in answer.” – Unknown (Instagram handle : Ofwhisperedwords)

Previous post : Always?
Related post : Damn, your eyes.

You, the universe and stardust.

These are two of my favorite poems.

You may not believe in magic,
But don’t you think it strange,
The amount of matter in our universe,
Has never slightly changed,
That all which makes your body,
Was once part of something more,
And every breath you ever breathe,
Has seen it all before,
There are countless scores of beauty,
In all the things you despise,
It could have once been a shooting star,
That now makes up your thighs,
And atoms of forgotten life,
Who’ve long since ceased to roam,
May now have the great honour,
To call your crooked smile their home,
You may not believe in magic,
But i thought you should know,
The makings of your heart were born,
Fourteen billion years ago,
So next time you feel lonely,
When this world makes you feel small,
Just remember that it’s a part of you,
And you’re part of it all. – e.h

We have calcium in our bones,
Iron in our veins,
carbon in our souls,
And nitrogen in our brains.
93 percent stardust,
With souls made of flames,
We are all just stars
That have peoples names. – Nikita Gill

Previous post : Diamonds.
Related post : My happy place

To my favorite author.

Dear John Green,

Spoiler alert for anyone who hasn’t read his books.

Your books are paper, but your stories are not. Thank you. Thank you for teaching me so much about love, life, friends, ourselves, our choices, the marks that we leave and about the greater perhaps. For the thousand times you put into simple words the emotions that humanity has been struggling to understand. I know you did not define what love is, but you did tell me what it looks like. You made me realize that pain demands to be felt, and that the world is not a wish-granting factory like the Genie. You taught me that everything except the last thing is survivable.

You were the light at the end of the road, reminding me that we never have to be hopeless because we can never be irreparably broke. You told me that love is keeping the promise anyway. You made me look for Alaska, and you made me let her go. You taught me that the only way out of the labyrinth of suffering is to forgive. You told me that everything that happened is just a fabrication of things as I remember them. You made me aware of the spiral of my thoughts and that life ends in the middle of sentence.

You put me on the roller coaster with Augustus Waters and Hazel Grace Lancaster, and you showed me what love can look like. You gave me serious travelling goals for my bucket list.

“I fell in love the way you fall asleep: Slowly, and then all at once.”

You taught me that some infinities are bigger infinities, but they’re infinities nevertheless. And that everything is a side-effect of dying. You made me believe in friendships and forevers, no matter how long they last. When Augustus used his wish for Hazel, I realized that love is not necessarily fancy dates and pretty gifts. Its a thought wrapped in colors of patience, sacrifice, care and humor. When Q looked for Margo,when he believed that she had left clues for him, and when he got angry when she didn’t turn out to be like the image he had, I learnt to accept everything as it is, to do whatever it takes to find the thing I love and to be real.

When Margo told Q that everything is uglier up close, and Q told her that she was not, I realized that love is looking at all the scars and fears and faults and loving the person anyway. When Pudge fell in love with Alaska, I realized that love needs no story. And when he finally let her go, I realized that love is strength to hold on, and strength to let go. The scratches on paper that you gifted to us, and the marks that you will leave behind are made up of realities and fantasies. You taught me that love is not ending up together, and you taught me that it is turtles all the fucking way down. Hazel and Gus, Aza and David, Pudge and Alaska, Q and Margo are all part of me now. Thank you for gifting me the ultimate dumpees. You see, what you must understand about me is that I am a deeply unhappy person, and you made me happy.

Yours,

Just another fan.

Dear John Green,

*Spoiler alert for anyone who hasn’t read his books.*

This is how you should kiss her every time.

These are two of my favorite poems.

Dear John Green,

*Spoiler alert for anyone who hasn’t read his books.*

Spoiler alert for anyone who hasn’t read his books.

Spoiler alert for anyone who hasn’t read his books.