in between

somewhere between here and what’s next

this isn’t what i usually write, so please be gentle with me. i’ve had a version of this in my drafts forever. it felt like the right follow up to last friday’s piece.

in between places, 
i feel most like myself.
not needing to be 
interesting, 
certain, 
solid.
just moving,
just a person with nowhere to be but here,
no one to impress 
but the version of me
who still loves the sound of train tracks
and the way sunlight flickers through tree-lined windows.
the version of me 
who listens to strangers talk on the phone 
about people i’ll never meet.

i like being in between places.
trains. 
buses. 
boarding gates.
where there’s nowhere to be but here,
where even if i’m late, 
the bus won’t rush.
the train glides past the fields 
as if time doesn’t matter.
the plane rises into the clouds,
leaving the rest behind. 

the world feels 
both impossibly big 
and completely mine. 

a window seat 
and fields rush past 
in blurs of green.
a world that gets smaller 
as i get higher. 

none of the things 
i’m scared of catching up to me 
can find me here. 

in between, 
i remember how to romanticize 
without apologizing. 
i remember 
the world is still kind, 
somewhere. 

---

thank you for being here.

whether you meant to arrive or just wandered in through some strange hallway of the internet — i’m grateful you made it to my little corner. it’s a strange thing, to share thoughts into the void and have someone, somehow, receive them. i don’t take it lightly.

typing…still runs on feelings, pop culture spirals, and the generosity of those who believe that overthinking is, actually, an art form worth supporting. simply knowing you’re here, reading what i wrote, feels like its own kind of magic.

if this made you feel something (or at least tilt your head and go hmm), you might consider one of these small joys:

🥐 send a croissant my way — a small, one-time gesture to help keep this soft, chaotic little lighthouse lit.

💌 become a paid subscriber — a way to support the spirals regularly, and receive the occasional extra musing or love letter in return.

no pressure. truly. but if you’ve ever read something here and thought “she should spiral for a living”… then know this: your presence alone brings that dream a little closer to reality. and that’s no small thing.

with unreasonable amounts of affection,

anshika ✨