"count your traits to pray ! count your vices to live !"

its christmas eve. my second christmas away from home. i miss being home... mom would always try something new in the kitchen.. there was always the rum cake and the punch on the table.. the tree with the bits of shimmery decoration, the lights... there were always lights... the simple happy air... and daddy playing santa. there was always a gift. . i love how dad has still kept santa real for me. i guess its the only part of my world i still have. a dream which still has me in it. i miss takin a walk late past midnight.. just to look at all the houses lit up.. the trees.. the chilly december air.. and to hear the silence.. the smell of flowers thick in the breeze. i still remember the cold sad december of 2007. it seems like just an hour ago.. and yet, it seems like its been aeons. its amazing how change takes its toll... and for good.. eventually. we mourn people we lose. . and we rise.. gradually. we learn to live without them. . and then on an empty day, through a leisure moment, we think of days gone by. . revel in its glory or the sadness for a while.. and return. but i know im lucky. the only intense thing i ever fell into was sire... and i knw we cant learn to live without everything. we cant always move on. when we find a home. . we realize we could belong no where else.

tonight it was silly, simple but nice i guess. balloons, candles, clair de lune, chocolate.. and coffee.. just very black. strange christmas... but it could nt have been more peaceful. suddenly my whole life flashed through in the whole hour that i lay staring at the candle lit balloons hangin down from the ceiling. i realized i always was lonely. and i still havent learned how to handle it well. i look for it wen im in a crowd. . and i cant stand it wen i do have it. it was college II year.. christmas eve.. i was home.. late tht night i had lain in bed lookin out the window at a purple star-studded, moonlit sky. i had almost seen a happy dreamy show in the skies... i did hope for it till 4am and then dozed off to yanni. i miss ma. and i miss dad. tears dont ease anymore.

i long for that peace 24*7. . the kind i found no where else.. but know only when i wake up to find sire beside me. nothing makes me feel safer... nothing else makes me feel happy for being alive through another day.

Happiness doesnt cost a thing BUT Nothing worthwhile in life is free.

treason

Today was an eventful day. In a rather dismal sort of way though. I ve felt angry before, felt in my veins the hot momentary rush of strength. but i feel so weak today. lame, and utterly helpless.

i've never stood up for anything but for people i cared for. that has always been a reason for me to fight. and reason enough. but today was different. i dont know much about the person we all gathered there for. . except for her name. and that she was struggling in a causeless battle. i suddenly found myself standing next to sire in a room full of muted people, i was one of them, and i heard him speak up for all of us.

there are times when i dont understand myself. i feel tremendously ugly, and therefore feel that tremendous anger and i burn in it for days. days of feeling weak, lame and utterly helpless. and it kills me. for all the loathing i feel for myself later on. i hate when i stand numb doing nothing, saying nothing. and not fighting back. i cant face myself for days afterward. i am afraid. and i cant understand why. whether its because of the consequences. or because i didnt stop him. i wonder. it fills me with shame when i see it stated. and i dont know why.

there were so many who were shouting. voices raised. knuckles bared. and he was quiet all through. calm like he always is. and then when it was time, they all were quiet, and under cover. . while he spoke. faced the music not caring what the moment would bring. not thinking that he was fighting for a person he didnt know... feeling only that he was with the truth. and so was his friend. the other person beside sire who tried today. and all i did was stand and stare. mum. not a word from the fuckin 'rebel'. and i let him fight alone.

and then i see the little 'litterateur-star of the batch'. she seemed angry for the cause. it looked perfect like she can always make it look. the hour of trial passed. and she and i were in the same boat. having passed the moment of truth in silence. only that i was so ashamed to speak more, while she raised her voice soon after. gave the upper hand - something she does everyday. . and so darn well. came back to the room, blissfully spoke over the phone adding gossip to the episode, for the "swearing" she did, lying without batting an eyelid like she can do so well, unknowingly claiming laurel for the "bravado" she showed.

then there were others. who initiated a good thought, and when the fire caught on. . disappeared themselves. picked not a call during the episode, and safe after it was all done with - called to apologize.

a few others were better off to have stayed back, showed no interest. i guess that was better than faking it at the last minute.

the moment i think i know it all, i realize i dont. whenever i feel things could get no worse, they do. im so proud of sire today, and grateful that a man so good loves me. and then it kills me to think of what i am. after years, today i cant face myself, because i cant justify something i did. i wonder if one can hate oneself more.

i always wondered if it was the world. or if it was me. but i suppose its me.

The Window

im happy. . ready again to suffer at college the whole rest of the month. . even tho i feel so hurt and disappointed with the world sometimes... in strange ways i find so much of happiness too. in seeing life through his eyes. and he tells me i have this art of finding beauty in all of things that the world has to offer.... but isnt that what we re meant to do ? find beauty. and therefore find joy. he's learning from me, just like im learning so much from him. just that he now realizes the importance of faith.. and perhaps, hopefully sees a brighter side to life. and i now realize the darkness that makes my world seem so alive to me now. i hated myself as an adolescent... i hated myself worse still when i came here.. but now i know its okie. life is but one day, afterall. and theres so much to know. so much to give. 

 

http://www.flickr.com/photos/itsallaboutmich/505840480/in/set-72157594495807098/

"With one glance he can make her fall
With one single smile he can fill her entire world
With one little word she awakens
In a way that only she can comprehend
He is but a shadow, darkening her bright skies
And for him, she would gladly live in darkness
Happy in the light he creates in her.
Maybe no one will ever “get it”
But maybe no one needs to
Maybe, just maybe, half the happiness is in the wondering
Because, before reality, comes dreams
And only in dreams does our heart speak its soul."

(Courtesy Flickr)

Diagnosed with inertia ?

so used to sleeping late, that i cant sleep now despite desperately needing to. today was good. not literally, for we were sick... but perhaps because after a whole painful morning, at least i got to spend the day with sire. we made The trip to the hospital, got tested for the dreaded flu, and are hopefully negative.. he's still been sick and i pray he ll be alright by tomorrow. im tired of being sick myself. its been 2 months of constant medicines and higher antibiotics, some or the other one after the other hope it ll all be over soon, and we ll be okie.

i suddenly found shanil's journal today... flipped through it after 4 long years.. and strangely felt nothing. its so weird how things change, that time makes us evolve, turns our life over and over until its a series of events meant to have been. i read and saw through the eyes of a grown woman today ... all i was.. all she was. two stupid young girls trying to walk into life, fretting on small things that seemed anything but small back then. pages of jargon... that was a heartload of pain years ago.. looked like pile of bullshit tonight. theres something so tragic about being children... when we think enormously of every event we fall into - big or small. because its new. because no one told us it would happen next. no one told us to expect the worst. no one told us why.
i ve hated myself for being a doormat so many years of my life.. until the summer of 2008, and i put myself to the exile i thought would ease my anger that piled up for all the long years. the self imposed exile it seemed, which was rather obviously otherwise forced. ts good in a way things happened that happened. sometimes its best to let go. we eventually fall into Something that heals us for once and for all. and then there are no more regrets. then there is no more suffering.

the whole shanil-episode seemed like a dream today. pretty much like it never happened. all that humiliation seems to have faded at last. all the blames. love is a strange thing. one night sire gently explained to me, the myth of the best-friend concept. . and i had realized how aptly it fit the situations in my entire life. people only care about what matters to them. and leave out all the rest. i dont regret anymore. i couldnt be the punching bag anymore; couldnt anymore spare my shoulder for them to fire guns. . and i could take no more blames. its true i still think of her and varun. . the 2 people i once trusted the most. the former who always tried to mother me, the latter i always mothered. . but then captive souls we were. lunatics in our own ways. and one world can never shelter more than one. now, thinking of them somehow always leaves me with a strange empty feeling which vanishes as fast as it erupts. i always knew i wasnt The people person.. i ve always had a variety of friends. . one completely opposite of the other... a set of strange vile people who're wonderful in themselves. but can in no way co-exist. and i guess i was tired of being the bridge. of being the bullet proof jacket.

they say shit happens.

 but i realise how perfectly the single presence of one man altered my entire life. i understand now how dominant love is. . how happy it makes me to finally give, while being given even more in return. it somehow gives a whole new meaning to my dont-expect concept because with each passing day.. despite not expecting, i get more than the day past. and love was all i truly ever needed.

no more. and no less..
and the lord answered all my questions with sire.

where's the faith.

I can go days without talkin. it was so simple back when i lived with my parents. i would go to college.... say not a word all day except when compelled to. would always go on wild goose chases on such days on my bike. . bunk a class or two.. sometimes the whole day..... and drive mindlessly around town. on extra pathetic days, a single bowl sundae made so much of difference. or a coffee. and i would still go home to warm lunch mum always kept waitin for me on the dining table. i always had this thing of binging on stressful days. im never hungry on such days... but if i can find something good to eat.... i go stress eating until im ready to explode. never exploded yet.... but since i left home.. there's barely anything to binge on. . maybe thats one of the vilest of reasons i hopelessly obsess with sire.

mum dad never fussed much when all i did for days together, was stay in my room, my songs, books and sketchbooks sprawled on my bed.. and i sprawled somewhere on the floor, with scraps of paper with all kind of shit all around me. and then i'd be missin from my room late nights. and at 3am dad, sometimes mum, would excrutiatingly (raging and fuming) climb up to the roof. . . only to find me missing again. and to their horror (which somehow they learned to accept) they always found me on the parapet, my legs dangling down, staring at the world. . lost doing what i did best. dreaming.

they hated it i know there would be times i would make an effort. to talk. even though they'd be pissed.... they wouldnt say more. i thought it was part of growing up. to want to do my own thing. to not want to talk. to show no effort at talkin or likin people if i didnt want to. i thought it would pass. mum thought the same, i knw. but now its like an incurable disease... thats gettin worse with passing time. she understands. there're times i call her all day, with nothing to say.... and i just hear her voice, listen to dad rustling his papers in his study. . and i feel so stupidly happy and contented. pretty much like eating when im sad. or going for long walks past midnight so i can straighten my thoughts. like seeing sire's face every mornin so i can breathe normally. but no matter how much mum can read my thoughts, she wouldnt know any of this, the way it is. i could never tell her of my suffering this world, i could never tell her i cry for her at 4 am some nights when i cant sleep. . and i miss quietly sneaking into her room at night so i could slip into her blanket and snuggle by her feet. the safe feeling and the warmth.... that i now find only in sire.

there is so much of suffering. and i always just have my issues to bother me. there are so many people who havent half of what im blessed with. family, education, love, access to money, medication, sarcasm, sense of humor, patience, faith. . yet, i take my family for granted, waste my chance at formal education thinking it would ruin what i need to live on, use my sarcasm to kill the patience, and hurl the sense of humor to fuel sarcasm.. shine my most cynical dagger at faith when faced with adversity. i brim with anger. and then brim with tears. and when sire sees it i feel like a damned fool. and he sees it all. and i know he understands. understands my whims, my antisocial almost psychopathic nature.... my wayward willful and stubborn self.... and yet he loves me for all i am. and for all im not.

i was scared of the dark when i was little. it was terrible. going to the bathroom at night while i'd drag my brother out of his room to "keep guard" outside.. and then shrieking madly like i were dying everytime he would turn off the lights from outside. SUCKED. its so stupid. but some nights, i still like to go to bed with the lights on. i feel safe. i hate myself for it. . but i suppose thats all im really scared of. and watching my loved ones suffer. i could trade places to save myself from that fear of having to watch helplessly.

i was afraid today. thinkin of yesterday.. sitting beside sire in class.... all day.... and while comin back, i could hold it back no more. theres so much to know in this world. they say experience counts. . but then whats the point... its like walking on an endless stretch of road, with people burnin on stakes on one side, and another set of people on the other side plotting endlessly how to pull you down. . get you on to the crucifix .. only to finally head together to the same fate that awaits us. im a sinner in my own ways. i know i can wait and say nothing. . and burn on one of those stakes. i only wonder what would happen the day this string snaps. im only afraid of setting the world on fire if any of this touched my loved ones. cause i know i would live to see it.

Distant Dreams ~

". . and what about love?" She asked.

"A mistake", he replied.

standing at a vantage point, its almost a cruel wonder to watch the world go by. its rather silly, to notice how each person has a different face than the other. . but more incredible still, a whole different being than the other. a cruel realization indeed. we're so arrogant, arent we ? so presumptuous. its almost a certainty for each of us that there practically exists no other world, except our own. everything ceases to matter, but the people in our own lives, the deeds we do or encounter. . the words we speak, or hear spoken to us. . and we only make choices, going by our whims alone.

"it doesnt matter what she wants. i dont want it."

"i dont care what he says. i dont want to hear it."

"it doesnt matter." 

nothing matters in the end. except just the clever one-liner some ancient person quoted to be our sole purpose in life, "The pursuit of happiness." 

a pursuit indeed. we often end up where we begin. gaining as much as we've lost. and losing almost all we'd gained. they say "experiences" matter. . they say, love is the food for soul, almost a silent power that takes over the mind and the heart. a power that could tame a beast, and set free a captive soul, give wings to everything good that exists in the world. a power that could bring back life, or the will to live again. . a power that, in so many fairytales, turned demons back into angels. 

but then i wake up, and  wonder if all these were true "experiences" that people faced. or is it all just a sham. but i still feel the love. every night i wait for sleep, the abyss of thoughts keeping me the company i sometimes abhor. and fear. the same flow of thoughts that makes me want to fly some other times. . . but brings me back to the dark each time, no matter what. and then i cling to the words. to the "experiences". and build up the four walls of those fairytales that practically sums up my entire world for me. a world of make believe. . where i get all the love i want. and i do what i want. where there's no room for wishful thinking, but every color and every ounce of beauty, to substitute all the hurt i find outside. a place where i can drench in the pouring rain on a sunny morning, talk to the ghosts in my head, run wild on clouds. . and throw my head back and laugh at all the vile truth the other world has to offer. . nothing but the ugly. a world where love is a sham. a harbinger of suffering in return for each lived moment of happiness, and all the unlived dreams for more. a seeming haven of peace and safety where after each bend in the road, bullets fly, bombs explode and blood is shed. they say, love brings together 2 bodies and 2 souls, unites them into one. . they say it out of "experience". . but then why do some others only use love for an excuse to variate all forms of basal pleasures. almost like a vacation each weekend. different destinations. both geographical and anatomical. a sham.

but then i wake up. . and wonder if i'm alive. if i'm one of those ghosts in my head. a misfit. . a vile spirit devoid of feeling and sense; devoid of sanity. forbidden by 4 thin walls to "experience" the truth. and the words keep flooding. . and then nothing matters in the end, but that hopeless pursuit. 

Sweet November.

June '09

"Change is constant. But it hurts always somehow.. Does that mean hurt is constant ?!"

Several years pass. But one fine sunday you walk into the subway and find yourself standing face to face with him. You go to a party, and you're happy. . But a single song starts a battle, takes you away. Takes you back suddenly to a faraway sunny August morning by a lake.

"Tell me miss, is there any place in your city that isn't beautiful ?!"

And it all brings back with it that heartload of hurt and humiliation, a part of your life in waiting gone vain; before you know more you've cried another silent tear veiled by your smiles. Its so easy to hide from the world sometimes. . and no one ever knows anything. All you do is turn your face and look like you're in a hurry, or pretend you've dust in your eyes. "Excuse me, I've to make a call !" And a discreet wiping of the moistness.

But he always knows. He who found you to live again. . who was there for real when you least expected any form of goodness. . . And you know he is one person you imagined nothing about. . unlike several other people you met before and were proved so wrong by then, each time. He gave himself to you the way he is. And you gave yourself like you gave no one. He who saved you from the dark. He can always tell by your voice that you're unhappy, or worried, or angry or just preoccupied. He won't ask more than twice, but the concern stays in his eyes, in his voice. A single touch of the hand. . and you know how much he loves you. "You can trust me. You know that, right ?"

Thats all it takes. That single look in his eyes, a touch of his hand in yours. And you realize how lucky you've been to have found a new world in this man. . A world that would always be your home. Always shelter you in his love. I'm lucky. It leaves me dazzled to see this man walking beside me, holding my hand through it all. . knowing he'd always be there, no matter what. It gives me all the strength I always lacked. . The love in a way I never had. . It is surreal when I think of it. How the Lord has his ways to give us the answers we seek. Until a point He leaves you shattered beyond repair. . and then sends across his angels to watch over you. Like He sent the Phantom to save me.

With each passing day everything else has been fading. Except you. . And all our time together in the past one year. You gave me an entire lifetime to live by, within less than a year. The summer is nearly over, and we made it through not seeing each other for over 100days. A feat !

Changes are inevitable. But its more like a circle I guess. . after each form of suffering, we eventually do find the love. . and with it, the Peace. The sun shines again !

You're my only Home

You've rendered me utterly incapable of living another day of my life without you. Without thoughts of you. Memories. And the warmth I've found no where else but in your words, and your touch.

I thought I were leaving for home tomorrow. But I realize now, its that, I'll be leaving behind when I go tomorrow.

~ Back to Life ~

How we fantasize about the things we'd do after the exams are over ! I'm the scatterbrained one who even dazes during the crucial 3 hours and spends half of it wondering about every question except perhaps from the subject paper ! No, I do. The kind of life we live, so rushed, busy, and full of thoughts which always claim more importance than the other answers the soul seeks. I, for one, happen to flow free during those 3 hours of the test. . every question comes a knockin' then . . . and I long to fill those smooth pages with my thoughts. . . oh. but then, wishful thinkin does take new forms every now and then.

Some days are so perfect. A small thing can make it happen. . and you forget every disappointment of the day that you got from other people, or from yourself (specially the kind that makes me reprimand myself each time for last minute skip-every-chapter-here-and-there kinda study :D ) Even though old habits die hard, rare things make us want to change. Want ! Thats a huge thing. Specially for stubborn hard-headed people like me, who're probably so hell-bent on being how we are and being averse to changing ourselves. I still Dont find anything wrong with it. . But then sometimes, rarely, that one special something makes it happen. One person, a word, a sentence, or even if its simply their faith. . The realization that they believe in you makes all the difference. And I guess, then we Want it. We're not offended anymore, not aggressive. . and we happily give way for that one perfect feeling that comes only from that one person.

I was always the hopeless romantic, I guess I would always be. But despite that, I always had my doubts and suspicions.. perhaps numbered equal to all my illogical dreams. They sounded good, and looked apt and fit only in movie sequences, or books, or in plain ol' fairy tales we loved as children. . But then good things do exist in the world, afterall. And now I see how real my dreams were, as I ve been blessed enough to get to live the best of 'em for real. And I know i'm one of the few people in the world, who get to live it the way i feel, each day. . . adversities would always remain. . but that One company is all we need to get past everything. And always make it through.

When I was little, my brother always told me these stories.. he was the only other (pro)dreamer i knew as a child. . and he used these perfectly silly but beautiful little phrases. . that always made each of those stories special. . and gave them all the meaning they lacked. Somehow they all seemed real, and yet they weren't. With time I realized how easy it is to become a cynic, to doubt everything we see. . to be distrusting, because then we find all the questions to hide behind. . wear that mask of aggression so the world wont reach the real, vulnerable you. so we wont get hurt anymore. And with passing episodes of deception, the malady gets graver and we keep falling deeper in the pit we sadly, unsuspectingly dig ourselves.

I was 5, when my brother gave me the first of his phrases . . one of the many phrases that followed throughout my childhood and adolescence. "Every dark cloud has a silver lining." Its rather common as I see now. Widely used in books, inspirational stories, and frequently used in mass prayers at the convent I grew up in. But years later, there was this day when i was, as usual, lying on my back on the ledge of the roof one summer evening. . watchin the clouds fly by. . . and i did see it ! It was many years since.... but as stupid as it sounds, thats when it struck what the words meant. . and ever since i did find there was always a way out. Even a way around, can still be a way out.

Its easy to hide. . so easy to find fault with everything (eventually) wonderful, that this life has to offer. Few of us are as blessed as I've felt since I found this new Life. Nothing's changed. I am still the same person. Still have the same beliefs, nurture the same dreams, and still feel as stupid as I always did.

But yet, knowing you has changed everything. I found the home I always searched. My beliefs are backed by reason now, the dreams dont anymore seem unreachable, and despite still feelin stupid sometimes - I dont hate myself anymore.

So much had been blocked for almost a decade. By all my questions. All the bitterness. But you eased everything with just one touch, and by believing in me, you made me believe in myself again. The jokes have more than just sarcasm, now. the questions have their answers now. And the bitterness dissolved to bring back the simple life I knew as a child.

I loved foraging in my dad's study when I was little. . I still love doing it, except that he doesnt mind it anymore. In all his scribblings, and his notes over years, there was this one line which has been etched in my mind, and always stayed with me.

"Love is like wild flowers. You will find it at the least expected places."

And now I understand why.

And it doesnt anymore feel weird to hear people talk of destiny, faith and happiness. It all has a meaning. . and it is so much more real than just dreams and wishful thinking.

Divine dumbness !

Its amazing to me how placidly people can judge, talk. talk talk talk. never even a bit about their own flaws. . not about the world issues. but given a chance (or not, how does it even matter) would start The hypoglycemic rant on how much they hate everything about you, how you offend them, and how much you still hurt them being so indifferent despite everything. and then you ll be at a social event trying to make decent conversation, not necessarily because you love social events or the people there. . but cause you 're the 'social animal' (even if its an ogre you are, at that) !

ha.

in the end, after days your friend tells you how they wept to her and felt bad all because you cant filter. so much for all the laughs at your expense (initiated by you yourself, and all in good spirit !) when they were so darn happy that you didnt have The Filtering System. And so much for all the times it became a custom, that any 'social' gathering had to have The jokes at your expense (whether or not initiated by you... it would always be done by the other social animals).

This is so incredibly stupid. But gosh i'll never ever in million eternities, probably have enough of feeling stupid. it beats me how some people can be so damn different than others, some can understand your every thought at the single glimpse of the eye but some others can be so beautifully dumb beyond repair. . you can be verbal and scream but they wont know Lucifer's sigil from a cradle. but some godforsaken of us can still manage being friends with both the kinds. and god one cant help being tired of it one fine day ! and then its Judgement Day.

Its one thing to be laughed at. when you're little, nothing beats that sinking stinging feeling. but you learn to deal with it. you cant help being the ogre in the end and you dont expect others to take you. You make em laugh with you, and not At you. simply cause its fun (and then it officially gives me the right to trip on others, even if they never get that the joke is on them, which makes it even better). there, i go claiming laurels again for divine stupidity !! but it was easier that way. and if they wanted to live with the happy side of you, who gave them the right to judge the other side of you. one cant be perennially happy for others' amusement, unless they were like the other side of them imbecile shallow nitpicking collective-individuals, feeling no more than hunger, thirst and the Need to gossip, always lookin for somebody else to be the next damn day. insanity takes its forms, and its amazing how powerful anger can be. and then when its only the world in the end it all remains The Private Joke that only you can understand and can know that your sire would.

shit happens !

Another sunday morning passed by in a hospital :/ never liked hospitals much. liked ? poof.

theres somethin about them.. the strange wistful look in people's eyes and the anticipation, BAD anticipation, rather the fear of it shows on their faces so damn blatantly. i hate it. its like when you're drunk on just 1 mug o beer, you re still in control, you think before you speak. . but after you re high as hell, you lose it. people are closer to knowing everythin that you never wanted em to know if you could help it. and then they can see through you. nothing could be worse than the indiscreet, imbecile, inconsiderate world knowin who you are, and obviously, perfectly misinterpreting it through and through !

hey. i forgot what i was talkin of initially. hell, this always happens to me once i start writing. the shuttling becomes inevitable until i lose the real thought.

but i guess i ll always hate hospitals, the smell of medicines and anti-bacterial wash. . the sickening clean smell. gross. and the umpteen memories of countless trips and nightstays in hospital suites watchin loved ones and family suffer. nothing matches that pain. the feeling of helplessness is so colossal then.

anyway, weasel is much better now. ends loose no more :/ its final term exams from tomorrow, and we havent studied since mornin. last month, through mid terms, monica fell ill and we sat in the hospital all day while they treated her (that one was a sunday too with an exam the next day, and thru the next whole week).

I wonder, if the next set of exams will call for my turn to fall sick. i blacked out today, and cried for him and mum and dad. so stupid, but sometimes i miss home so damn much. and even a single day feels like a heavy boulder when i dont get to see him. .

Life is the weirdest thing i ve ever known. it never ceases to surprise us. it makes us suffer. but then when we dont expect, it turns into this pretty bunch o wildflowers. a sudden volley of colors and happiness. love is most like it. just like wildflowers, we find it in places and times we least expect. . and then it sees us through all the suffering, almost like none of it matters as long as you have your Sire, or your Layla.

stupid me !

Strange little things remind us of how human we are. its good in a way, because being cold and ghoul like is way worse. . than to feel pain and humiliation. but we tend to compare everything on relatively, a;ways choose to ignore the absolute image of it.. thats probably how we make life sufferable. other than being human, it also does remind me of how insignificant i can be, when im not just in myself. not just doing what i want, not just refraining to enter a world i'm not comfortable in, and might never be afterall. its so stupid. its not even a big deal. but i say that to everything these days. and im starting to hate myself for it.

im so deeply flawed. every passing day brings to my notice, a new thing that requires molding, and fixing. there couldnt have been a better way of feeling more human. i feel, but then there has to be the hitch. i was so happy all day. he was happy too. it was perfect.

lol.

saying it all aloud makes it sound even more juvenile ! and its not good.

i cant speak. i can write, but i can not speak. i remember how hard it was for me being a kid, i would struggle even to put across a single sentence. had no friends i could sit and talk or play, no friends who stayed longer than for the time they needed to get my notes, or wait for my answr to a query. how vilely introverted i was, its amazing to me, that i can actually speak now at all, without wanting to run away and hide every instant. not that its any easier. i remembered all that again. so much i ll never speak of ever. people dont understand. i dont expect them to.

the sky looks bruised again.

sad happy-trapped !

i havent done this in a long long time. . i was struggling with some assignments a couple of hours back (still am) and was lookin for something to drink (but found nothing i wanted) and i thought. . well, hey ! lets start blogging again !! what better way than to ease frustrations, academic, imbecilic, financial et al, than to pile it on the world.

its so juvenile, god i keep sitting and asking all these idiotic questions, and probably (perhaps actually) piss people off. . weasel, phantom. oh. and then i dont find the answers cause there are none. and obviously they pretend like they never heard anything. most of the times ! and then she tells me to shut up, and not make noises while im working, and not sing with my headset on. . and i feel so pathetic. Its already monday again. . and another 2 shitty weeks will go by in a blur. sometimes i feel i knew more before i came to this college. . and that with each spasm of embarassment and humiliation i face here, im losing more and more of what i had a year ago. i dont read anymore. havent held poetry in my hands in ages. music would be my reprieve, but now its like an addiction, it compulsorily has to be there, and i need it to fill my head so i can stop thinking. .

i long to break free. but theres so much more to this world thats holding me back. despite everything, amazingly, i dont regret any of it. i never will. with all this distasteful choice of career, and this gruel everyday (and the fortune daddy's spending for my seemingly unlearning experience). . i did discover a wonderful part of this world. something that i had only dreamed of. i still go to bed every night wondering and aching, thinking what if i wake up the next day to find it really is a dream. but good things are rare, and my treasure is precious. . and they say, everything has a meaning !

when i came here last year, The sky was bruised The wine was bled.

And from there you led me on. .

And i know you always will. My faith. The only one.