I wanted to say sorry to that version of me, the one who spent hours doomscrolling through feeds that didn’t feed me back… or so I thought. I also thought you were wasting time, wasting days, and wasting my corner of the world, albeit a tiny space, by staying in bed so late in the night with my phone glowing in the dark.
I thought you were doing nothing.
But here we are, with the tiny proof in our hands, that maybe, we were doing something after all.
What started as a dare has become a catalyst of our new-found expression. Our unspoken words, the things we wanted to say but couldn’t and wouldn’t, have come alive through our new poetry book. I would always remember the self-deprecating words I threw my own way, that I was just convincing myself that I am a poet instead of someone who just wanted to get something out of my chest one line a time. And so, I wrote essays too – small confessions about my life, my doubts, my fears, and even my tiniest joys. They weren’t supposed to matter. But again, here we are.
It’s a tangible proof that maybe, not all wasted hours are truly wasted. Sometimes they are just waiting to become something else.
Sometimes, they are seeds. And they bloom when we least expect.
So to the me who felt guilty for staying online too long, thank you for staying. Thank you for scrolling.
Thank you for being here long enough to write these poems I never thought would come to life.
