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رِمشاء

@_queceracera

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No longer 19, still on fire.
Writing shit poetry about you~
NCA '27
POSTS STORIES REELS
Poster paint kachra #art #bullshit by @_queceracera
I'm bad at being a person but I can draw a thing or two so redeem me 6hr, 1hr, 30m, 10m of Flaming June #oils #oilpainting #drawing #process #sketch #paintings #orange by @_queceracera
Ew . Do not use oxidised polyurethane varnish because you're cheap unless you want a Mexico filter on your painting. #oilpainting #process #oils #idk by @_queceracera
Dastarkhwan - 2 x 2 ft ceramic relief from Dec 2025, ~10 days. Probably the only assignment I've ever actually liked. by @_queceracera
One good summer later, grass was finally green on this side. by @_queceracera
I recommend everyone to start freewillmaxxing More captions so I can do more bakwas!!!!! More book Waka waka I can see the veins of the city like they do in spAacE Caprisun rival Protocol I'm richer than u because I have more Skippi than u Fresh ka scene hai Headphones in every picture ever 🥀 Alu ke fries Pool shool Panic mixie dream girl by @_queceracera
Personhood pt.1 by @_queceracera
So happy I chose @clearpathpakistan for my smile. 🤍 The aligners were easy to wear, almost invisible and fit right into my daily routine. Thank you @ddac_official for helping me smile with confidence. #clearpathaligners #smiletransformation #myclearchoice #clearaligners #smilejourney by @_queceracera
Dear July, So I got my private purge, a personal Renaissance, an exorcism. A life far removed. An identity conjured anew. All in January's faithful swing. Like I said, I have my ways of getting exactly what I want. Although I took long to figure out the shape of it and memorize it's crevices. How to say its name? Contentment? satisfaction? Or the overrated synonym, happiness? Unadulterated and pure and so clear I could truly see myself. What to do with it, where to keep it? It would slip out of the holes in the pockets of my consciousness, but I'd find it again. Or it would find me. And perhaps I've learnt to look into the mirror and see someone who deserved to keep it. It stays with me. Regards, by @_queceracera
Idk what prompted me to write this. Anywyaz, 🫩 here: غلطی سے attach ہوجاتی ہوں میں۔ لوگوں سے، جگہوں سے، چھوٹے سے soft جانوروں سے، بیتے ہوئے وقت سے، بیتے وقت کی خوشبو سے، اور اُن وقتوں میں سنے گانوں سے۔ آسمان کے رنگوں اور cloud formations سے، ٹیڑھے میڑھے درختوں سے، چلتی ہوا کی اوڑھ میں چھپے رازوں سے، بدلتے موسم کی خُنکی سے، سردیوں کی دھوپ سے، خاموشیوں سے۔ اور عجیب و غریب پودوں سے، جو ایک عرصہ پہلے جل گئے، مرجھا گئے، ice cream کے اُس flavor سے جو اب ملتا بھی نہیں، اور اِن جیسی ہزار غیر ضروری قیمتی چیزوں سے۔ اُن آخری دفعہ پکارے جانے والے لفظوں سے جو پھر کبھی نہیں بولے جائیں گے، اور نہ اُنہیں پکارنے والے واپس آئیں گے۔ جیسے سب کچھ ہوا کرتا تھا، اُس سے۔ Stupid jokes سے، ساتھ ڈھونڈی گئی togetherness سے۔ عارضی تھا سب، پتہ ہونا چاہیے تھا، شاید پتہ بھی تھا لیکن ہم باز نہیں آتے۔ Shitty دوستوں سے بھی، بیکار لوگوں سے، toxic ترین انسانوں سے، کیونکہ آخر تھے تو انسان ہی۔ بدصورتی میں بھی خوبصورت تھے کسی طرح۔ اور Bad days سے، bad phases ، bad haircuts سےبھی۔ کیونکہ تھا تو وقت ہی۔ اِنہوں نے مجھے تو جانے دیا، جیسا چلتا رہتا ہے۔ لیکن مجھ سے اِنہیں کیسے جانے دیا جائے؟ اور پھر میں بس ایک مجسمہ بن کر رہ جاتی ہوں۔ مشکل ہے یہ بھاری سی feelings weelings والی زندگی۔ لیکن کوئی بات نہیں، attach ہوتے رہنا چاہیے۔ شاید یہ غلطی نہیں، طریقہ ہے۔ #art #alcoholmarkers #kaamnahikarongilekininstapepostzaroordalongi #shitpoetry #dfdaghda by @_queceracera
Curated melodramatic kachra excerpts from my notes in the last few months. Alone. But in a soft, accepting way. In a defeated way, a submission way. Not a giving up way, but a stop resisting way. A quiet way, I guess I asked for too much way, maybe I hoped for too much way. In a, maybe I just need a break from the commotion way. In a, no one is mine to trust way. In a, too filthy to be seen way, too sick to be touched way, too deformed to look at myself way, in a, I'm melting don't try to hold me way. In a, walking behind a glass barrier way, I forgot I existed and you can see me way, these bags are heavy and I'm swaying with the weight way. To belong everywhere so much as to belong nowhere. To exist in the space between spaces, the overlooked. With not an echo nor reverb to befriend. Always the onlooker, the outsider. Always the attendee overstaying their welcome, never the host. No home, no backstory. All these years of losing and I haven't learnt the difference between what is mine and what is mine to lose. Maybe it's a secret, third, evil thing. Something that's mine in a limbo. Mine enough, but not really. Maybe borrowed, taken, gifted, stolen. Pleasures on rent I can no longer afford. I have failed. Failure. FAIL. FAILLLLLLLLLEDDDD. ALL I DO IS FAILLL. One of these days I'm going to delete insta and disappear and none of u will see me ever again cz I'll be so good in my life even if the idea of creating a life I never had from scratch feels so scary cz it sounds too good to be true but I'll do it and none of u will be there to see because it's MINE TO KEEP HAHAHA. . . . . Ok maybe some of u can be there. Apologies, but I'm going to continue to have love to give no matter how many people I mutilate beyond recognition with it. Prepare to be defaced, gut out and rearranged by this violent downpour of gentleness that could not be helped. The greater evil. Fuckass caption has a word limit now? Ab main bakwas kaise karon gi?? #dump #pictures #ihaventbeenhereforyears #andidontwanttogoback #places by @_queceracera
Starting this year without my nano in the world, I find myself saying "she would've loved this", "I wish I could show her this", "she spoke about this a lot." Grief usually doesn't get the better of me (fat lie), but every once in a while my eyes wander and fixate on a particular thaila full of candy. She would keep a stash especially for me (main favourite thi) and would secretly take me to her cupboard when no one was around, to give me it. Where she would get all those toffees from is still a mystery lmao. I've still kept them all as they were, and when I look at them, I think about how I will never get to wake her up in the morning again with her breakfast and tea in my hands. We will never watch funny cat videos together, and I'll never get to ask her to count to 100 in English, or listen to her old partition stories. There was a last time I held her shaky hand, or tried on a new dress to do a mini fashion show along with a very unhinged dance. I'll never get to complain about her daughters to her (this one is genuinely upsetting). Or crack dumb jokes on the phone in Punjabi only to hear her slightly labored laugh once more. I will never get extra (exclusive) eidi again, she won't show me her dher saray cactus, and we won't get to name them together. No more nagging me at the dinner table to eat more, or asking me to stop crocheting because it tires me (it didn't, but what is a mother if not always extra extra EXTRAA worried?) And I'd scold her for not using her cane. "kathay wey tudh ni dandi?" "duhe kamray wich bhul gaian hehe (lie)" Harn main akhniyan, dandi tan ithaon paee way, bhalla tu ko neh nazar aani. She also really wanted to see me get married? "koi dost banaya hai? Hai to bata do :D" "nai main sirf dushman banati hoon" . . . For Noor Bano, I have placed here all my grief for you, may we live lives as full as yours. by @_queceracera

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