Supriya limbu
Bio
I write sometimes and most of the time I don't know what I write.
Stories (12)
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degree on procrastination.
December 21, Thursday. Well, it's actually 22 and I wanted to write about yesterday which I couldn't since I slept. So yesterday what happened was I had this strong urge to write, on my way to college and it was 5 in the morning . yeah, you got the idea how my day started , 5 a.m. and you already want to write. ( P.S. I write when too much going on, of course in my head.) Woke up at 4 with 2 missed calls from my dad and not so warm warnings to recharge my phone.
By Supriya limbu2 years ago in Confessions
wildflowers became the magic of my life.
Scrolling down the internet, somewhere along the lines I saw "Beautiful wildflower grows untamed" and that hit me. I have always admire wildflowers and have always love to sing and write about them but then again I have always loved to write about the things I am not. Wildflowers became a part of my life, perhaps a comfort zones. Something about their free and wild spirits have comforted me whenever I felt everything was too much to handle. She is so stubborn that no matter how chaotic it is she has managed to bloom in the middle of nowhere and in her own way. She has never failed to amuse me. I knew I admired them from the very start but everything started to change when I began to realize how different she was from me. Wildflowers to me has always been intriguing story that has stirred the start of my 20's and that's not too long ago, just some months. So, to be precise I would say wildflowers became a thing in my last teenage year. She was always so strong, spirited, free and wild but I, I was just a girl living behind the facades.
By Supriya limbu3 years ago in Confessions
dancing with the wind.
Now that you are here, finally free, released from the figments, just live. Live freely by the color of dawn, beyond horizons, interweaving the infinite spectrum of evocative scattered visions. Humming the chorus of sweet summery midnight breezes as they explores your tangled hair, wandering the wispy giggles of perennial essence. Overwhelmed by the whispers of fireflies, alarming the grasses underneath your bare feet with gentle delighted space. Embracing the sunlight as warmth spreads against your textured delicate skin and soul through every pulse, every pores. Indulging the spirit with puddles of assurance and vast reality of euphonic voices.
By Supriya limbu4 years ago in Poets
