Tuesday, March 31, 2009


(Originally typed out on 06th June 2008)

She poured out another shot and downed it. After an entire week of agonizing, she had made up her mind. She was going to go talk to him tonight, no matter what. And as she slipped out of the dim bar determinedly, she even had the entire conversation planned out in her head. What she would say in response to every thing he could say. She had even decided where they would talk and how she would bring about the topic. She was sick of the thoughts rattling in her head. And tired of trying to guess what he was thinking.

He stood outside on the balcony, a half forgotten cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. It was a nice night. He looked back into the house and saw the file lying on the table. An odd expression flitted across his face, and then he smiled, taking a deep drag and exhaling slowly into the cold night air. It was going to be a long night.

So, after a few more shots of vodka - for the warmth - she made her way across the busy streets towards his house. It was a pretty night. The city lights drowned out most of the stars, but the ones that she could still see were beautiful enough. She was wearing her black dress. The one she was wearing the first time they had met. She wondered if he would notice, or remember... She didn't think so... She didn't know if she wanted him to... It would be less painful if he had forgotten. She didn't know why but she wanted to see him while she was in it, considering it was the last time she was going to see him, at least for a while.

He made his way into the house and sat down in the dimly lit room. He glanced up at the file and muttered to himself. A short laugh followed by a frown. He looked away from the table and his gaze fell upon the small box lying under a chair. Standing up, he made his way towards it, a strange look upon his face. Kneeling by the chair, he pulled out the box with slightly trembling hands. It fit in his palm, and he stared at it for a long while.

It wasn't like she wanted him back, she reminded herself. It was just that this needed to be over, and the only way she could do that was talk to him, get it out of her system. She wasn't going to cry. No matter what, she was not going to cry. A wave of dizziness washed over her and she made her way to the sidewalk where she sat down at the edge of the road, resting her head against a cool metal pole. She knew she shouldn't be drinking. Not tonight. She pulled out a cigarette and a matchbox. Unable to light it because of the way her hands were shaking, she rummaged around in her bag until she found the lighter. Click. Light. Drag. Something fluttered to the ground, and as she picked up the faded photograph, a tear finally found its way down her pale face.

It seemed like he hadn't moved for hours. He knew he shouldn't open the box. God knows he wanted to, but he couldn't. Not now. It would surely destroy him. Turning it around he traced the crack along the side of it with his thumb. He closed his eyes as if something had just stabbed him in the heart. Why tonight? Why did he have to find it tonight?? Pictures ran through his mind and his eyes shot open. No. He couldn't close his eyes right now. It made him remember. He didn't want to. Not now.

She looked up at the house. The address seemed right, though it looked as if no one was home. She walked up to the door... and suddenly, it all seemed too pointless. What was the use? She was kidding herself if she thought one conversation would actually help her. But this wasn't about her. She owed him an apology... No... She owed him an explanation. She stared at the door bell for a while, and shook her head. A rain drop fell from the skies and she turned to leave...

He stared at the box for what seemed like eternity. The cool wind told him it was about to rain. Rain. He hated the rain. He hated it because it reminded him of strawberries and long sad conversations... and because it reminded him of the last time he had seen her. Had she been crying? It was impossible to tell because of that rain... Standing up suddenly, he made his way unsteadily to the phone. Holding the receiver up to his ear, he dialed the all-to-familiar number. It had been so long, yet every digit was engraved in his memory.

She walked away quickly from the house, suddenly afraid of running into him. Her flight out of the country was in a few hours. A few more hours and she would never see him again.
No. That moment passed by the last time it rained. As the water started falling faster from the skies, she looked up and smiled, glad it was raining. But, it didn't really matter anymore... This time there was no one around to hide the tears from. And there were no tears to hide. Making her way onto the porch of an empty house, she leaned against the pillar and slid to the ground. There was no point. None.

An image of her in her long black dress made its way into his mind and he hung up before it connected. What could he say? There was nothing he could offer as way of explanation. The truth would only hurt more than the silence did. She couldn't know. He couldn't let her find out. The file on the table seemed to mock him. Leaning against the wall, he raised his eyes to the ceiling. There was no point. It was over.

And so the door was never opened, and the phone never answered. Simply because she never knocked... and he never called. And the faded photograph continued to fade away in a corner of the bag while the broken box stayed broken. The rain continued to fall on two people halfway across the world from one another... and even though it shouldn't have mattered because there was no point... it continued to matter.

Girl in the Mirror

She leaned over the gray stone sink, her dark eyes empty and unfocussed, seemingly staring at a point beyond her own distorted reflection. A sad lonely song played on in the background, but she seemed oblivious to it. Someone was banging on the fragile wooden door. The girl didn't move. She did not even seem to hear it. Silence filled the air. She kept gazing at whatever it was that only she could see. The song ended and another began. And her eyes filled up with tears.

For a while, she let them swim there and then... she blinked, a confused look flitting across her face. Suddenly, she reached up and angrily wiped away the forming tears with the sleeve of her white too-big T-shirt. As she accidentally dragged the sleeve down her face, the frown changed to a grimace. Her head snapped up to attention and she stared at the girl in the mirror as if seeing her there for the first time. Her eyes drifted over the straggly dark hair that fell over the pale face, down to the dark blank eyes. Her gaze stopped at the red line drawn across her left cheek. She reached up slowly and winced as her fingers brushed against the mark.

Her eyes widened as the screams filled her head once again. The dark kohl had smeared across her pale face and for a moment the girl in the mirror frightened her. The empty lifeless eyes, the lack of expression on her face, the detached pain the bruise was giving her. For a moment, it wasn't her reflection she was staring at, it was her ghost. The banging began again, but she paid no attention. The words in her head drowned out everything else.

The song changed again. People began to shout, in worry, in fear, in panic... but the girl was too busy listenin to the voices in her head, staring into the mirror, afraid to reach out and touch it because she didn't know whether it was the glass that lay shattered or if it was just her reflection. Either way would hurt her, either way she would break. Either way, it didn't matter, because she knew that there was no real difference between her and her reflection.

A faint smile played upon her lips as the blackness swallowed her. Just a little longer.

(original post - 10th June 2008)

Monday, March 30, 2009


If I said I wanted to rob a bank, and one was robbed before dawn tomorrow, would any of you give the authorities this link? This is all hypothetical of course. And even if it wasn't, it would just be a designated decoy. Then you'd feel pretty stupid about telling them, wouldn't you? So don't.

Anyhow, Thums Up beats Coke any day. And both of them are better than Pepsi. Just a stray thought.

I had an interesting conversation with a friend today. Interesting because I love how hard someone can try to get you to react in a certain way. Seriously though, the next time one of "you" asks me to grow up... (open threat)
Ever heard of dealing with the log in your own eye before going after the splinter in another's eye? And you know who you are.

Now that that's out of the way, what next? I'm really very bored. I need to get some sleep. Fuck. I just remembered I had to read a case for Fly. Damn it! She's going to throw me out of class again, isn't she?


Friday, March 27, 2009


The cold steel rail was just another addiction

Another substitute for an incurable affliction
Multi-colored spirals let me know
It isn't up to me to decide when we go

Ages of absence and consequence
make carefully cultivated indifference
your one and only defense
And even if you forget your way back down
There's always another way to the ground

Keep only so much that it isn't worth stealing
The sky is all that you need to be feeling
Let all of the rest just burn and fall away
And don't ever let them make you stay

Standing proud, uncaring and tall,
Kicking and cursing at the cold wall
Don't ever bring back yesterday
And today stays a dreary shade of gray

The flickers of worry
Pasts that you just can't bury
Tell you in whispers so low
One more time might be the end
but there is a lot that time doesn't mend
and it's really not like I don't know

It was easy to learn
and it's easy to burn
Now that I know how to fly
I understand why, you stay in the sky
I'm still waiting for the call
and they're all waiting for us to fall
I forget the way down
or maybe I never really learned at all

They talk so proudly of love
A memory is a dear dead dove
All I can see are cold chains
And forgetting is all that remains
It's always been so much easier to lie
when you're high up in that blue sky
and they never taught you the way down anyway

Confessions and surprises, Search the premises
Truth is easy if you know what the price is
And I know I only lie to save your skin
But my confessions are over, you're my only sin

Though anxious eyes are what you left behind
You know they'll always be there
I don't know what's on my own mind
And sometimes, I forget to care

The wings are just a mere substitute
Are we replacing more of the clever lies?
or is it only their over rated truth?
I can't come down from these bright blue skies
And I don't think I want to

So do me a favor and ask them not to call
Because they'd be right and I'd only fall
Though that's just another way to the ground
I'm not lost, I don't need to be found
Don't make me go, just let me stay
...I never learned the way down anyway.


It always starts the same exact way, with the unreadable credits rolling and the three second shot of you walking away. At first it was confusing. Then it became annoying. And now it hardly makes a difference. Sometimes, it doesn't even bother me that I don't know how it ends.

On some days I can hear a shot ring out at the very end. But usually, it ends when the shouting begins. Or maybe I just don't hear it over the din. I can't decide which I would rather wake up from. None, definitely, but unfortunately that isn't exactly an option.

I went back home the other day. Funnily enough, I still call it home sometimes. Though I guess I'll stop after a while. After all, it hasn't even been an entire year. I curse and scream a lot lesser, or at least, that's what I'd like to believe. I never cried.

The first time, it was nothing more than a nightmare. The next few times were enough to make me wonder. And now it's just part of the whole routine. Just a part of me. Like a song that won't go away.

After a few months I told them that they had stopped completely, because I was tired of the sympathy in their eyes. Fools. Well, at least they let me stick around. And I guess I should be grateful. It's not like I have a lot of homes to choose from. One's already nothing more than rubble.

Sometimes I wonder if you're still alive. There. I had to say it. I know it's silly and saying it out aloud just makes me feel stupid. But I do wonder. And I know all of us do. Of course it isn't something anyone will ever dare say. But I know it's true. Especially the kid, but then again she was always a little too optimistic.

I suppose they'll stop. The dreams I mean. They better anyhow. Not that it bothers me anymore, but it keeps me here. And it makes me wait. I don't like waiting. They'll stop. After all, it hasn't even been a year...


In the last 11 days I've managed to burn myself, get glass shards to embed themselves in my skin, cut my finger on a can of beer and then while opening a can of ham. And yes, even had the guitar string burn my thumb. The most annoying part is that it takes me very very long every "next morning" to try and figure out how it all happened in the first place.


Well, at least it beats getting stitched up with no idea why your head won't stop bleeding.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

House of the Rising Sun

See them!
Bearing gifts and flowers
And smiles so wide they should hurt
Dressed in fancy coats and dresses
that trail in inevitable dirt
"You look so very truly lovely dear"
"Why thank you, so do you!"
And then a turn, a glare, a sneer
"I've always hated that shade of blue"
The lights are grand, the palace large
and each is mesmerized
And as they dance their practiced dance,
Every moment frantically memorized
Look how cold their eyes are
as they judge you for your fall
and if that's what grace is supposed to be
You'd swear you were never there at all

Watch them!
Them, on the other side of town
Children of the blackest nights
They make their way through the dark
By walking on silver moonlight
It is no palace of light to which they trudge
but a hill under starry skies
And you see the roads they've left behind
along with remnants of once-binding ties
Their speech is odd, their words often cruel
Yet laughter rings true into the night
No hidden dagger behind any back
and no need of any illusions of light
There is never any dancing
but there's always music in the air
And if you can walk the moonlit path
You're always welcome there.

(Now I know there are middle paths
but honestly, I've hardly seen one
and if I had to choose between them
it would have to be the "house of the rising sun")

Now playing: Animals - House of the Rising Sun
via FoxyTunes

Saturday, March 21, 2009


I have to make myself some more Tang. But that means trying to use an unsteady, a-bit-too-flexible, small white plastic spoon and that makes the tang powder fall all over the place. Sigh. Still, one must not procrastinate.

I must not order pizza, yes? No... Must not. Pizzas are evil. They shall take over your soul if you just give them a chance!!! Bwahahahaha.
Oh wait.
Why am I laughing?
I'm not a Pizza.
But if I were... I'd still say that.

Anyway, this post shall twist itself around and end soon. Like wire. I liked that wire. It wasn't barbed, but I suppose that was a good thing.

The "party" was so chilled out. The guys can do this every day? I'm so green with envy I could be a stolen emerald embedded in a scepter/crown. Or a tree.

Or a plant!

Why can't Tang make itself? Someone needs to invent that. Self-making tang. Imagine how useful it would be! Wow... It would make everything so much simpler.
"Self Tang. Real tang is not 'made' by anyone. Real Tang makes itself."

I wonder how they came up with the name anyway. 'Tang'. When I think Tang, I think tangerines. That could be where the word came from. Perhaps.
Strangely, if I concentrate on Tang, the next word that comes into my head (after Tangerines, that is) is "Antelope".

I'm still sleepy, but I may have to go to town. I wanted to go for a Pecos breakfast, but I just couldn't stay up and wait for 10:30 am. And now, I'm still sleepy, though the hunger is all gone. Okay. Wasn't there supposed to be some tang here?

I shall go now.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

A Million Different Thoughts

There were a million different thoughts in my head today. Things I was supposed to come back and think about. Instead I chose to indulge in conversation that's been put off too long. And not just once, but twice! Anyway, advice doesn't help when it contradicts itself. And now I've forgotten what it was that I wanted to talk about.

It must have had something to do with the perfect place that was in my head all day, and which I finally found. (Thank you Agent Zero!!!) It could have something to do with the mid-night jam session that I was surrounded by for a few precious minutes... but I don't really remember what it was anymore... and it's so perfectly and unfairly fine.

I give it one more day. I always give it one more day. That might be part of the problem. I shouldn't sleep. It's already past four. And if I try and sleep now, there is no way I shall get to class tomorrow. Which I have to get to. I must.

But if I stay up all night, I'll just fall asleep in class and be thrown out. Ah, the logic the mind uses when it's been deprived of sleep for long enough! The only alternative is missing class. Again. Which I can not do. Not again.

I guess we're not the only ones who the universe plays with. I guess. I would say "I hope", but that would make me sound crueler than I really feel at the moment, which is never fun. Well, almost never.

And I know, that a year from now, none of this will matter. None of it. And that should be the worst part, but it's always the best. The unavoidable sense of the transient nature of it all. Nothing else matters, nothing but now, because now is greater than the past, and I know that. Damn it. There were too many commas in the previous sentence, but I really don't care anymore, so if this post annoys you, deal with it.

I shouldn't have. I should have. Only delaying the inevitable. You're always delaying the inevitable, but if you're really trying to stop that, you may as well try to fly. But you don't. Perhaps because sometimes, delaying the inevitable is only human? Perhaps. I wouldn't know. And I don't care.

I would lie. I do. But I would do it so much more often if you promised me I would get away with it. But then again, I would probably not believe you. So why try? "Lie or be lied to". "Deceive or be deceived". And it doesn't make you noble if you go ahead and try to prove the whole world wrong. It makes you stupid. Are you listening Mave dear? Never noble. Only stupid. We were so young. Everyone was, but does that mean it's not an excuse anymore?

I know I'm rambling. I may also be ranting. But it's past four in the morning. And I'm tired. And most importantly, typing has become so much easier than writing. I think that's fucked up. I really do. But, whatever works. And whatever works worked so long that I don't want to mess with it.

Even though that implies that I shouldn't have meddled with a lot of things that were moving along just fine. I guess that means we were right. We would mess up everything we had. Which is cool, because it was all about delaying the inevitable. There was a point made about this, wasn't there?

I could go on forever. I probably would, if it wasn't for the decision that has to be made now. Get a couple of hours of sleep or stay awake till it's time to leave. And that is so silly-ly profound, it's not even funny.

It's not fair that words and songs and quotes and memories get associated with people who you once knew. And it's pretty retarded to say that memories shouldn't do that, but it still isn't fair, because it makes you feel guilty about forgetting. Like getting flowers. Unless they're dead, but that's pretty retarded too.

I should sleep. I think I shall go now.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

The Identification (by Roger McGough)

So you think it’s Stephen?

Then I’d best make sure

Be on the safe side as it were.

Ah, there’s been a mistake. The hair

you see, it’s black, now Stephen’s fair…

What’s that? The explosion?

Of course, burnt black. Silly of me.

I should have known. Then let’s get on.

The face, is that a face I ask?

that mask of charred wood

blistered, scarred could

that have been a child’s face?

The sweater, where intact, looks

in fact all too familiar.

But one must be sure.

The scoutbelt. Yes that’s his.

I recognise the studs he hammered in

not a week ago. At the age

when boys get clothes-conscious

now you know. It’s almost

certainly Stephen. But one must

be sure. Remove all trace of doubt.

Pull out every splinter of hope.

Pockets. Empty the pockets.

Handkerchief? Could be any schoolboy’s.

Dirty enough. Cigarettes?

Oh this can’t be Stephen.

I don’t allow him to smoke you see.

He wouldn’t disobey me. Not his father.

But that’s his penknife. That’s his alright.

And that’s his key on the keyring

Gran gave him just the other night.

Then this must be him.

I think I know what happened

… about the cigarettes

No doubt he was minding them

for one of the older boys.

Yes that’s it.

That’s him.

That’s our Stephen.

Nothing but the truth

By the Court Clerk: Please repeat after me, "I swear by Almighty God ..."

By the Witness: I swear by Almighty God.

Clerk: That the evidence that I give ...

Witness: That's right.

Clerk: Repeat it.

Witness: Repeat it.

Clerk: No! Repeat what I said.

Witness: What you said when?

Clerk: That the evidence that I give ...

Witness: That the evidence that I give.

Clerk: Shall be the truth and ...

Witness: It will, and nothing but the truth!

Clerk: Please. Just repeat after me, "Shall be the truth and ..."

Witness: I'm not a scholar, you know.

Clerk: We can appreciate that. Just repeat after me, "Shall be the truth and ..."

Witness: Shall be the truth and.

Clerk: Say, "Nothing ..."

Witness: Okay. [Witness remains silent]

Clerk: No! Don't say nothing. Say, "Nothing but the truth ..."

Witness: Yes.

Clerk: Can't you say, "Nothing but the truth ...?"

Witness: Yes.

Clerk: Well? ... Do so.

Witness: You're confusing me.

Clerk: Just say, "Nothing but the truth ..."

Witness: Is that all?

Clerk: Yes.

Witness: Okay. I understand.

Clerk: Then say it.

Witness: What?

Clerk: "Nothing but the truth ..."

Witness: But I do! That's just it.

Clerk: You must say, "Nothing but the truth ..."

Witness: I will say nothing but the truth!

Clerk: Please, just repeat these four words "Nothing," "But," "The" "Truth."

Witness: What? You mean, like, now?

Clerk: Yes! Now. Please. Just say those four words.

Witness: "Nothing. But. The. Truth"

Clerk: Thank you.

Witness: I'm just not a scholar you know.

Source: http://www.re-quest.net/g2g/humor/courtroom/index.htm

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

To Seth

Dear Seth,

It's been almost a year darling... I know I gave you the address of this blog. Those emails we used to exchange all stopped all so long ago. And the ids are probably long gone. I don't think you even log in anymore... Not like I can complain... Neither do I...

Except, today, I've realized that if you are ever trying to get in touch with me, this is the only way you can, hence, I shall write you this letter, no matter how completely "emo" it may sound.

But before I begin reminiscing, I want you to know... Remember all those pictures of you and Tira (was that even her name?) you sent me? I came across a couple of them online when I was randomly wasting life on the internet. Those weren't really pictures of you were they? Then, I can only assume Jordan was a lie as well... But I don't understand...

I'm sorry I wasn't there when you got thrown out. Nor when she 'left'... but Mave was... and sometimes I think she believes you will still come back...

Sometimes I think that you will come back too...

I read the last email you sent her. I wish I could say that I wish I hadn't... but I guess it helped. Because honestly (and there's nothing easier than being honest with someone you think is dead), by the end of it all, I really could not think of a reason to ask you to hold on... I know that sounds cruel, but it's true. I didn't have a right to do that... and the little bit of what I did, I forsake when I came to this place...

I'm so sorry Seth darling, because by the end of it, I think I stopped believing. Perhaps because it was easier to think that all you said was a lie... Or maybe because I just couldn't handle what you told me... I guess it all comes down to the same thing...

You may wonder (if you're still somewhere out there...) why I decided to write to you today. Well, I spoke to a really good friend of mine who reminded me of the position I was in at one point of time... except I guess he has it worse. He's met her... I don't even know what you look like. Not anymore.

You know... Half of me always wanted every thing you said to be true. But I shall not deny (not anymore anyway), that half of me frantically hoped that you were just one big lie. Because it would mean one less kid out there in the sort of trouble you were in.

You were the first person I ever met who loved me unconditionally. You were there even before Mave was. And though you knew nothing about me, you listened. You made me one of the reasons everything was worth it. And you gave me a reason to believe in people. Because if someone could go through what you did and still be such a sweetheart, then this world wasn't all that messed up...

or maybe that's exactly why it was...

Anyway, all I really want to say is that if you're still somewhere out there... come back? Tell me you're okay. I don't care if every word you ever said was a complete lie. It's okay. It doesn't matter anymore. Those 9 hour conversations are not what I really miss. I miss you. And what you meant.

I love you and I always will.


Monday, March 16, 2009

You can't smoke in planes

I've realized that you can't write under two circumstances. One is the obvious nothing-going-on phase. And the other is when things happen so fast and in such quick succession that you barely have time to think through them, let alone about them!

You write in transit. When nothing happens. Because that's the only time you can sit back and rerun memories.

I can't form sentences anymore. They get all jumbled up inside my head, and I end up knowing what I want to say, but from such a hazy distance that it's abstract nonsense when I actually put it down.

As I was telling FBC today, it's like going sky-diving. I'm on the plane, I have the parachute all ready (or at least I hope), and I've taken off. All preparations have been made. Still, it isn't too late to turn back. And though I know, that eventually, I am going to jump, I can still doubt my decision. It's only once I'm in the air that I will forget about worrying. I hate the period of waiting. And you can't even smoke in planes. -_-

Other than the usual, updates involve Miss Sunshine's new relationship. I'm glad for her, and the fairytale-ness of the story appeals to me. I'm supposed to meet the new boy tomorrow. Well, we'll see how that goes.

As for me, accelerate or brake. I'm still confused. I need to decide soon, because one foot is already on the clutch and I need to change gears now. Like I said before, I hate the waiting phase...

Black And White

If "Black and White" is the opposite of gray
Where are all the colors supposed to go?

Just wondering...

Sunday, March 15, 2009


Don't ask me questions
when you don't want to know the truth
Because I'll lie as long as I can
but I'm doing it just for you
And I know you think you're helping
but I don't really understand
and the only reason I say the things I do
is because they're all that you can stand

I can't always tell what you're thinking

And I can't always read your mind
You say what you must, and then forget
While I can't leave any of it behind
So I stand back and watch it all go by
While you don't even see the rain
And yet when you ask me if the sun is out
I know that I can only lie again...

Friday, March 13, 2009

Letter to a Friend

To A Friend,

Yes, things do get better.

No, it just seems like you're the only one. Things go wrong arbitrarily. As hard as it may seem to believe, no omnipotent power is picking on you.

Maybe sometimes you ARE just making a big deal out of it. Sometimes.

Wallowing in regret is pointless. Really. Learn from something if you must, but don't brood.

Appreciation and flattery are two different things.

Suicide is cowardly.

Sometimes, you are snapped at because the other person is annoyed with life. Not everything is about you.

Drinking to the point of death will not solve anything. So if you're drinking to "stop the pain", its just sad. Stop.

If you really want something, give it your best, not your all.

And if you can't change it, accept it.

But most importantly, Don't worry and (you will) be Happy.
Let it Be.
"Life is very short and there's no time, for fussing and fighting my friend".
Live and let live.


Thursday, March 12, 2009

Back to School

I haven't really been writing anything here because I don't really want to do a "Back to Law School" post. But, I suppose I can't put it off forever. So, I'm back. In Law School.

Almost-holy places have been visited. Pecos, Roof, Amma's, Rohini and then some. All the necessary rituals have been completed. SF tripping, reminiscing, phone calls, music... It really doesn't feel like its been only four days. But this time, it does feel like we were away for a while. Maybe because I had an eventful holiday this time. Too eventful if you ask me. Almost feels like an entire trimester's worth of events!!! Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, but just a slight one!

These holidays were good because I actually revisited the past. And by the past, I don't just mean life before college. I mean school. (For the slightly confused, there was that annoying year spent at St. T.) I knew that I wasn't the same, but it felt great finding out that I hadn't completely changed either. I mean, yeah, I am definitely very very diferent, but the "basic structure" seems to be the same. ;) I don't really know why that makes me feel better, but it does.

Yeagh, this is one of the most pointless posts I have written on this blog. *laughs* I know many who will disagree and point out at least a million other posts that seem to make NO sense whatsoever, but I'm talking about "pointless" and not "senseless". Because senseless things sometimes do have a point. But then again, so does this. Okay, any more thinking along these lines and this post will cross both lines.

Oh yes, how could I forget? About an hour ago, I found out that I may just have passed Fly. That's a relief. But I really must find out for sure. Oh well, that's what "tomorrows" are for. *nods solemnly*

Other than that, life goes on, everything changes but always in the same way, aaand my blog stays highly emo. *sigh* I really must do something about that... "Not that there's anything wrong with it!"
Yes, but seriously.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Promises Like Pie-Crust (by Christina Rossetti)

Promise me no promises,
So will I not promise you:
Keep we both our liberties,
Never false and never true:
Let us hold the die uncast,
Free to come as free to go:
For I cannot know your past,
And of mine what can you know?

You, so warm, may once have been
Warmer towards another one:
I, so cold, may once have seen
Sunlight, once have felt the sun:
Who shall show us if it was
Thus indeed in time of old?
Fades the image from the glass,
And the fortune is not told.

If you promised, you might grieve
For lost liberty again:
If I promised, I believe
I should fret to break the chain.
Let us be the friends we were,
Nothing more but nothing less:
Many thrive on frugal fare
Who would perish of excess.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Schizophrenia __ (Blue October)

A silver plated numbing gum
And Jesus resting on my thumb
A hard to reach malaria
I've got the mood that seems to scare ya.
I'm paranoid, self destroyed.
Believe me lord, I'm sorry
I've got the mood that seems to bury ya
I've got the nightmare called...

I cry. I cry and I don't know why.
The fever becomes my home.
I cry. I cry and I don't know why.
The fever becomes my home.
Becomes my home.

I love it when you're holding me.
You have a gentle way of calming.
I haven't felt that way since 1993,
When my mother held me.
I bet you're waiting for a long sob story
Of how I was mistreated again.
But, no, I wasn't built that way.
I was strong and fucking desperately brave,
And I didn't mean to scare ya...

I cry. I cry and I don't know why.

The fever becomes my home.
I cry. I cry and I don't know why.
The fever becomes my home.
Becomes my home.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Untitled (again)

They say if you push yourself to the limit
Well, then you'll surely succeed
But what if the success you desire
is really not the one I want or need?
I'm winning in my own way
I know I'm losing so completely in yours
But then that's what not remembering
and forgetting is all for!


You talk of numbing the pain
that I don't think I even feel
Keep your remedy with you
I'm well aware of what is real.
And even if it isn't to you
It's become just that to me
I know it seems impossible
But well, maybe Life is just a dream.

Friday, March 6, 2009

God and children

"In the name of God, Ma'am. He'll keep you happy. Whatever you give me, he'll make sure you get ten times more. In the name of the great God, please give me something. Anything."

"God doesn't exist."

She almost felt bad about the shock that flitted across the face of the little girl with the bedraggled hair. Hair that would have loved to be a beautiful brown if it only had a shot. The child couldn't have been more than 8. Or twelve. She could never tell.

"But God is watching out for you. He'll make sure you go far in life. You'll be very wealthy ma'am. Just give us a little money."

"I already told you", said the older girl through gritted teeth, "God. Does. Not. Exist."

The car pulled up and suddenly she felt old. Too old for the day. And too old for the night that was to follow. What right did she have to take away one little girl's belief in an all-powerful-god who was watching over her and would make sure that one day everything would turn out okay?

"Before going, do give us some money sister. Please? Anything."

The door was open and the girl paused. She couldn't really tell why. Perhaps it was the fact that the child had called her sister. Maybe it was because she said please. Or perhaps the girl just wanted to prove a point.

"Fine.", she said shortly, turning around to face the child. She rummaged around in her bag and saw that she had no change, just two coins of five rupees. Holding the coins up between them, she bent down till she was face to face with the girl and stared into her eyes.
"But not in the name of God."

The little girl looked up at her puzzled and she sighed, "There is no such thing as God, kid." And if he did exist, your hair would be pretty, and your eyes bright. You'd be in school and I wouldn't be standing here. And if he does exist, he's no God you should be praying to. And he's definitely not a God in whose name I would EVER do anything. "Go eat something." She hoped God was watching. What would it be? Lightning? A car accident? An aneurysm?

And as she got into the car feeling miserable about what she had just said to someone who probably needed to believe in God much more than she ever did, she looked out the window to see the girl staring at her, a hauntingly beautiful look in her shy eyes. The girl in the car blinked, and the child outside smiled at her shyly. And it was the most beautiful smile the girl had ever seen. All the stoic-ness, all the cold blankness faded away and she grinned it return. The child smiled back wider now.

And as the car pulled away, she rolled down the window and waved. The child waved back shyly... The girl watched her till she was out of sight and then bowed her head. She may not get her soul a place in heaven, but it was at peace for now.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

The longer you try to keep me here
The further I will make sure to go
You can lock me in your highest towers
I'll always have a forgotten window
All the lies that I'm soaked in
And all that you call love
is nothing but empty sin
that I can't seem to rise above
And you say that blood is thicker than water
Well, that doesn't mean a thing
I refuse to be your pretty golden caged bird
and I refuse to fucking sing

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Losing and Failing

I think I would rather lose than fail. Mainly because losing seems like such a relative thing. You lose against someone. You could be awesome, but lose just because someone is better than you. (And someone always is).

On the other hand, if you fail, well... it just means you weren't up to it. And that somehow your failure is a direct consequence of your decisions and actions alone...

I'm afraid I did not lose this time. I failed.

Oh, and the worst part about failure? You can't demand a rematch. You can just hope for another chance.

Sunday, March 1, 2009


I got lost today. And not just this-way-or-that-way kinda lost. I'm talking lost as in across two sectors and a couple of main roads lost. Sigh. I really need to work on my sense of direction. Ended up asking this random fruit seller where my sector was. He looked at me like I was crazy and told me I was walking in the wrong direction and had to go all the way back. It was pretty annoying. Especially because I could have comfortably smoked all my cigarettes. Instead, I ended up breaking another self-made rule. And an important one. Never bring a cigarette home. I'm just asking for trouble...

Other then the adventure of the day, life's been pretty tame for the last few days. I can't believe I'll be back in college in a week. Darn repeats. It would have been so sweet otherwise. And I haven't read a word. Stupid consti. grrr. However, considering the fact that I'll have enough time to bitch and moan about this when I get back, I think I shall just stop thinking about it for now. ^_^

There's this new comic I'm reading. It's called "Nothing Better". It's about a couple of dysfunctional room-mates at college. It's a nice read, but the problem is that at most points our lives seem more interesting. Haha. College spoils me. ;)

Also, I've been doing a lot of thinking. (AND a lot of facebooking, but well, that aside for now.) I just need to get the repeats out of the way this trimester. I'm bored. I need to do something, or I shall wither up and die... And I need a distraction... Oh well, thankfully, that's jus not ever a problem when you're in college.

Hmmm, Maybe it's time I made a few new playlists too. I mean seriously, what kind of black cloud was my brain wallowing in when I made this one??? They're all nice songs, but all I seem to do now is go into a blue funk whenever I start iTunes. I mean, Air Supply are great and everything, but still... I think I'll become a Third Eye Blind person for good. I like them. They talk about the saddest things really chirpily. It makes you laugh. If there's anything I like better than cold-sadness, it's comic tragedy!

Wow, this post has turned out to be just me rambling. Oh! We gave the dog a bath today. I should write a complete post on that sometime. It's an entire event by itself! We even have different people in charge of different parts of the ritual. *laughs*

Hmmm. I'm going to go see a movie tomorrow. With Flighty. Will also update him on my latest sins I suppose. I mean, that is all we seem to do. Discuss the recent messes we have gotten ourselves into and then point at each other, laugh and do the "Haha! Your's is worse!" routine. It makes for good confession times.

I saw Sweet November today. And I finally managed to see the end. I see what Miss Sunshine means. You know... when you understand why the character is doing whatever he/she is doing, but you still want to hit him/her on the head with the biggest rock you can find. And I figured out a new angle to my already-too-many-angles-to-be-anything-but-a-fucking-circle story. Does it help? I don't know anymore. And honestly, I'm almost beyond caring. Fuck it dude. I tried. That's all. I may not have tried hard enough or whatever, but I just don't give a rat's ass anymore. (Yes, okay, maybe I'm just mad right now. or maybe I'm not. Whatever.)

That's all for now I guess. I leave in 6 days. That's not all that much longer. And once I'm back... well, let's just say I have all the aspirin I need. ;)