R. T. Hyder

Been writing in a sober state of mind since 16. A tidal wave of life, happiness and misery have taken me in well. The unrefined and misdirected angst and emotion have found its home among the many small-scale disasters and struggles of my days. Where they were once naïve and whiny they’re now barely polished and at times confusingly obnoxious. Being an adult is difficult. I notice my words becoming simpler as I get older. It’s often the best and most effective way to get a point across. Words have been a constant through years of inner turmoil; they’ve always been comforting and could be accessed anywhere at any time. They’ve saved me from cosmic traps, dark corners and social predicaments.

There are a few lost souls who whisper in my ear whenever I chalk up the gall to write. I thank them for the sparks. RIP auntie Qurratulain among others.