MAP OF MY SOUL

Okay, first things first— I’m quirky . I overthink everything . Like, everything. I’ve been told I know too much, feel too much, and think too much… but let’s be real, I’m just living my Jungkook way into everything. If it’s too complicated, I’m down for it. If I can’t figure it out, I’ll try harder. I’m that person who’s got a million thoughts running through my head at all times, and I’m definitely the one replaying every awkward conversation five times in my brain (Jungkook style, but make it awkwardly cute). But, hey, it’s who I am. And today, I’m sharing something raw, something deep. No filters. No fluff. Just me—overthinking, feeling everything, and choosing to live life on my terms. So, let’s get into it... what makes my heart  beat ? I dance till I’m beat. Not for anyone else, but for me. When the music drops, I’m not just moving—I'm alive in every beat. Every single step. There’s something liberating about losing yourself in the rhythm, about giving up all control an...

It was a casual day. I was talking about college applications, the ultimate gen-z teen behavior, the general doom of adulthood, and this one goofy, chaos-brained friend of mine suddenly throws in, “Wait—have you kissed someone yet?” Bro. What? I did what any self-respecting, emotionally unprepared individual would do: I said “Eww no,” shrugged, and pivoted back to “So Delhi Med College cutoffs are gonna be insane next year T_T…” SO, YAHHHH!!!— here’s this post as a little gift for ya. Honestly, I wish I’d just dumped all of this on your face that dayyy lol,  that moment deserved the full emotional and scientific download. But hey, better late than never, right? Also, I’m writing this mostly because I have nothing better to do — just chilling, thinking about kisses and feeling all kinds of ways. Honestly, I was just dreaming of when I kissed lol. Then suddenly, I remembered you — who randomly asked me this ultra weird pro max question, and ig only you'll do this wimme ROFL....

Not a clean answer. Not the kind that wraps things up with a neat little bow. Just enough to leave everything halfway open, halfway shut— Like a door that creaks when you walk past it, reminding you it’s still there, unfinished. And yeah, I guess I’ve been telling myself it wasn’t a “no.” But I can’t pretend it was a “yes.” Not when my chest feels this hollow. Not when the silence afterward says more than any words ever could. I don’t even know what I’m feeling anymore. It’s like everything inside me’s been shaken up and dumped out in the dark. Love? Imagination? Loneliness wearing someone else’s name? I don’t know. I really don’t. It’s just noise now. And the louder it gets, the more I think: Maybe I imagined the whole thing. Maybe it was never anything. Just… me. Wanting. Hoping. Reaching. For something that was never reaching back. And that would be easier to accept if it didn’t come with the risk of losing him completely . Because that’s what really fucks me up. My p...

  I don’t know how to say this without sounding like I’m still trying to make sense of it. Maybe it’s not even about making sense. Maybe it’s about feeling what I’m feeling even when I don’t want to. Even when I don’t think I should. I don’t know. I’m still broken, still not whole, still trying to piece together something that fell apart a while ago. But, yeah, here I am—wondering what if? You ever ask yourself that question? What if everything you’ve known, everything that’s been in front of you, is just a step toward something else? But then you realize, shit , you’re not ready for that something else. Or maybe you are , but you just don’t want to admit it. You don’t want to risk it. Not when you’ve been this broken. Not when you’re still so messed up. I’m not whole yet. I’m not even sure if I ever will be. But there’s this part of me, this stupid little part, that keeps going back to that moment when everything shifted. When that someone asked me something simple— will you eve...

June 13th, 2025- etched in my heart, forevermore.  I experienced something I’ll always carry in my memories. Watching the Hope on the Stage Final Concert live online wasn’t just my first BTS concert — it was the most beautiful reminder of what it means to love , to wait , and to belong . It’s been nearly two years since we last saw all seven members together, and though only Jin, Jungkook, and our forever sunshine Hobi performed, seeing OT7 together — even just standing side by side — made me emotional in ways I didn't expect. It felt like the universe realigned for a moment. Like time paused and whispered: they’re back, even if just for now. From the moment the show began, I could feel the love. The stage glowed not just from the lights, but from the warmth of ARMY and the sincerity that each member brought. Hobi’s performances were electrifying — his dance, his energy, his story told not just in words but in movement. He poured his soul into every second, and it showed. “Hope ...

  It was the kind of place that asked nothing from me, yet gave so much in return. Just trees, tall and still, shouldering the sky without effort. Their leaves whispered in a language I didn’t need to understand to feel welcomed. Above, the canopy shifted gently, light filtering through in broken threads that touched the forest floor like a quiet blessing. Somewhere above, birds stitched little songs into the air— not loud, not constant, just enough to remind me that life was happening all around. Between their calls, insects hummed soft and steady— tiny pulsing rhythms woven through the silence like breath. The ground was soft in parts, scattered with fallen things— a leaf still damp from the morning, a branch snapped clean. Everything felt as it should. Moss gathered between the roots, cool and springy underfoot, inviting a slower kind of walking, a kind of listening. The breeze came and went like breath, cool and familiar, brushing past my cheek, tangling with my h...

  I’m done being the victim. I’m so done with the fake sympathy people throw my way. You look at me, your eyes full of pity and sorrow, like I’m some fragile thing that needs to be fixed. I don’t need your sympathy. You don’t get to wrap me up in your sorrow and call it love.  That’s not love.  Love isn’t empty words and hollow gestures. Love doesn’t come with the weight of “I’m so sorry for your loss” while you continue wearing your perfect little facade. No. I’m done with it.  Done with the masks people wear, pretending like they give a damn. You look at me like you understand, but you don’t know what it’s like. You don’t see the battles inside me. You only see the surface, the broken pieces. But you don’t see the scars, the ones that tell stories of pain—physical and emotional—that are too deep for you to ever understand. I loved deeply. I lost deeply. And that pain is mine to carry. Not yours. So stop acting like you have some right to feel sorry for me. Stop...

  So, there's this person. A Homo sapien , ofc XD Except she’s also a walking serotonin shot, a part-time therapist, an accidental soulmate, and the human version of a comforting playlist at 2 a.m. I'd have named her happiness. Ngl — I don’t fully get how she does it. One sec I’m spiraling over life, and the next she sends me a stupid meme or just says “you good?” and suddenly I am good. Not fixed. But… lighter. Like she somehow took a little bit of the weight without making a big deal out of it. So strong, caring, understanding, cute ofc XD and a perverted sass-queen LOL. And here’s the wild part — she doesn’t even know. She probably thinks she’s just being herself (which she is), but to me, she’s kind of the definition of joy. Not the loud, glittery kind. The quiet, unexpected kind. The soft kind that sneaks up on you when you didn’t even know you needed it. But it’s not all melodrama-focus either — she’s funny as hell. Sarcastic in the best way, somehow always one step...