Artistically Broken Hearted


Only a few people know what it feels like to be artistically broken hearted. Not being good enough of a writer or a painter or a musician. Or not being able to catch a break and being forced to do something else that is economically stable. And it’s hard. Because the life of a creative is all about expression. And without having to be happy in what you love to do best is a nightmare. It truly is a nightmare.



Read the book that’s best for you. 

If you’re living with depression, read a novel about depression. If you’re heartbroken, read a novel about unrequited love. If you’re feeling suicidal or hopeless, read a depressing poetry collection, and in a weird way, it’ll give you some hope. And that’s what literature is all about, understanding and knowing that your pain, your suffering is universal.

Two Kinds of Sad People


There are two kinds of sad people:

  1. The sad-happy
  2. The sad-angry


The sad-happy person wakes up in the morning knowing that the world isn’t a very beautiful and nice place but continues on towards the day knowing that things may go wrong and still be okay in the end.

That the space between what if and what still is is just life being what it truly is: filled with possibilities that may either forever destroy us or heal us.


The sad-angry person wakes up in the morning knowing that the world is a very beautiful and nice place and continues on towards the day expecting that things will turn out right and end up being disappointed at the end of the day.

That the reason for all the anxiety and anger and frustration lies in only one thing: being so hopeful. And the only way we can cope up with this kind of existence is accepting the fact that life at its very core is filled with disappointments, sorrows, and grief.

The balance between maintaining an even dose of pessimism and hope is the philosophical solution for the anxiety and misery that life gives.



Expect nothing good to happen in your life for a while. This will eventually pass, and you will be you again as you take every painful hour to hurt, to bleed, and to eventually—heal. The only thing you need now more than anything is to rest.

Someone Called Daisy


There were days when I treated her like nothing because I felt like nothing. Like everything in the world felt so unreal including my very own existence. But it was during those times that she treated me like I was the loveliest person in the world. And for that, I will always love this woman.