Sunday, November 18, 2012
Blog Mil Gaya
You wouldnt believe this. But for the longest time I couldnt sign into my own blog. Reason? I'd forgotten which id and password I was using for it! But Google has been kind and recovered my details using nothing but my phone number! Isnt internet getting more and more awesome everyday? Anyway... blog recovered... for the time being. Not that i use it much. I'm going through one of those phases where I dont blog at all... but its very comforting knowing that I can... whenever I choose to.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Its one of those nights. But then again why to announce that? I never write but when it is 'one of those nights'.
I'm so tired, physically, mentally and whichever way possible. Two exams! When was the last time I wrote two exams back to back? Probably back in Middle School. Then work-out. Then screaming because of the injustice being doled out to us by the honorable area Councillor. Then begging brother to let me use his computer after 12:30 because my Tata Photon isnt working. Then sitting behind brother and silently crying because its been 13 minutes and he pretends as if he cant hear me. Mundane things. Mundane Life. No lifting of depression. No weight loss. No condition of hair getting better. I should go jump off a roof right now. Spare myself. Spare people who know me. But till I gather up that courage I'm going to sit and jabber here.
What does it all mean? Can you trust anyone in the end? Stories you believed in for so long suddenly shatter one day. People who meant so much walk away. Then after a while try being really civil.Confuse you. But then you look at their DeePee and all the rage comes back. Because you realize they didnt just leave you. They stole from you as well.
So what do you do on nights like these? You sit on your brother's computer, write stupid blogs and cry.
I like sunshine and brownies. I want sunshine and brownies. But I cant have them. Forbidden thoughts. Must not be indulged in consciously. But the unconscious fights a losing battle every single night.And in the mornings there is nothing but confusion. What is real? The world I woke up from or the one I just woke into? I can certainly tell you which one I WANT to be real. I'm going to lose it someday. Become incapable of distinguishing between dreams and reality. Like Inception. Or Vanilla Sky?
I should have shouted. All those times I kept quiet. The load lessens that way. But understand this... If I'm crying its not because I'm weak but because the alternative is bashing your head in and I dont want to do that... But someday I probably will. And then your family members or mine for that matter can refer to this blog post and prove my guilt.
For the time being the future holds a test. Global Cultures.
I'm so tired, physically, mentally and whichever way possible. Two exams! When was the last time I wrote two exams back to back? Probably back in Middle School. Then work-out. Then screaming because of the injustice being doled out to us by the honorable area Councillor. Then begging brother to let me use his computer after 12:30 because my Tata Photon isnt working. Then sitting behind brother and silently crying because its been 13 minutes and he pretends as if he cant hear me. Mundane things. Mundane Life. No lifting of depression. No weight loss. No condition of hair getting better. I should go jump off a roof right now. Spare myself. Spare people who know me. But till I gather up that courage I'm going to sit and jabber here.
What does it all mean? Can you trust anyone in the end? Stories you believed in for so long suddenly shatter one day. People who meant so much walk away. Then after a while try being really civil.Confuse you. But then you look at their DeePee and all the rage comes back. Because you realize they didnt just leave you. They stole from you as well.
So what do you do on nights like these? You sit on your brother's computer, write stupid blogs and cry.
I like sunshine and brownies. I want sunshine and brownies. But I cant have them. Forbidden thoughts. Must not be indulged in consciously. But the unconscious fights a losing battle every single night.And in the mornings there is nothing but confusion. What is real? The world I woke up from or the one I just woke into? I can certainly tell you which one I WANT to be real. I'm going to lose it someday. Become incapable of distinguishing between dreams and reality. Like Inception. Or Vanilla Sky?
I should have shouted. All those times I kept quiet. The load lessens that way. But understand this... If I'm crying its not because I'm weak but because the alternative is bashing your head in and I dont want to do that... But someday I probably will. And then your family members or mine for that matter can refer to this blog post and prove my guilt.
For the time being the future holds a test. Global Cultures.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
My vein hurts, the one in the crook of my elbow on my right arm. The other day this man pushed a needle in to draw blood, except he kept pushing the needle around a little too much, making me emit various notes of the sa re ga ma. But of course I cant speak about this. I told my mother about it night before last, she screamed at me for not telling her earlier. Now if I tell you at 11 in the night that my vein hurts its not because I want you to call me a doctor right then, but maybe you could consult him in the morning? But no. I am fault because I spoke about it at 11 in the night. And tonight at 12:30 when it hurts again because my arm was in a folded position for a long time, I made a mistake of mentioning it again. What happens? My mother tells me she is not expected to remember such insignificant things because she has greater matters to deal with. Of course, she is a businesswoman, she's running the finances, I get it. But what happened to the mother bit? Tell me, when you go to either one of your parents to tell them that your vein hurts, would you expect them to tell you that they will call the doctor in the morning, or would you expect to be reminded how insignificant your hurting arm is in comparison to the greater good?
What follows is a theatrical performance. The losing of my exceedingly short temper, a lengthy monologue delivered by my mother accompanied by those salty drops, me shutting my bedroom door and realizing my throat hurts and I believe the name calling is still on from the other side.
This is the moment I take a pause. Coz honestly, I dont know why I'm writing this. Is it because Piu's phone is busy and I need to let this out? Is it because I cant stand writing a personal diary and would rather write it here, in the open? Is it because I like writing in general? or is it because, as someone once said, I use my blogs to gain sympathy?
I dont know.
My mother just said a lot of things. She said she'd rather not have a daughter like me. She said she hates me. She said I'm a two faced bitch who is sucking her dry like I did with my father.
I said a lot of things too. I said she should have aborted me instead. I said I dont love her either thankyouverymuch. I said if it hadnt been for their stupid last minute decision changes, I wouldnt have been trapped here in the first place.
I just needed to let it out you know.
I dont have the emotional range of a teaspoon like Ron. But even a person with a big fat handi for an emotional range bubbles over sometimes. What with being a bad daughter and sucking my father's lifeblood out of him and now doing the same with my mother, friendships I had made my peace with a long time ago turning out to be the wrong choice after all, a three year old friend who's almost like my sister deciding our friendship was worth giving up for a three month old friendship. There's a lot there. Plus there's the constant feeling that the world is coming to an end, and no I'm not talking about 2012 and all, I'm just talking about my anxiety attacks. There's the constant fear of 'aamra shobai raaja'( ppl involved in Arup Ratan will understand this), and the haunting sense of loneliness. Questions as to whether I am mad or the world is.
Sylvia Plath said 'because you never know when the bell jar descends', but I'm telling you, the bell jar never ascended in the first place, it was always there, separating me from the world with a sheet of glass, with its limited supply of oxygen that I have used again and again and again, until I feel the very air I breathe in is suffocating me.
What follows is a theatrical performance. The losing of my exceedingly short temper, a lengthy monologue delivered by my mother accompanied by those salty drops, me shutting my bedroom door and realizing my throat hurts and I believe the name calling is still on from the other side.
This is the moment I take a pause. Coz honestly, I dont know why I'm writing this. Is it because Piu's phone is busy and I need to let this out? Is it because I cant stand writing a personal diary and would rather write it here, in the open? Is it because I like writing in general? or is it because, as someone once said, I use my blogs to gain sympathy?
I dont know.
My mother just said a lot of things. She said she'd rather not have a daughter like me. She said she hates me. She said I'm a two faced bitch who is sucking her dry like I did with my father.
I said a lot of things too. I said she should have aborted me instead. I said I dont love her either thankyouverymuch. I said if it hadnt been for their stupid last minute decision changes, I wouldnt have been trapped here in the first place.
I just needed to let it out you know.
I dont have the emotional range of a teaspoon like Ron. But even a person with a big fat handi for an emotional range bubbles over sometimes. What with being a bad daughter and sucking my father's lifeblood out of him and now doing the same with my mother, friendships I had made my peace with a long time ago turning out to be the wrong choice after all, a three year old friend who's almost like my sister deciding our friendship was worth giving up for a three month old friendship. There's a lot there. Plus there's the constant feeling that the world is coming to an end, and no I'm not talking about 2012 and all, I'm just talking about my anxiety attacks. There's the constant fear of 'aamra shobai raaja'( ppl involved in Arup Ratan will understand this), and the haunting sense of loneliness. Questions as to whether I am mad or the world is.
Sylvia Plath said 'because you never know when the bell jar descends', but I'm telling you, the bell jar never ascended in the first place, it was always there, separating me from the world with a sheet of glass, with its limited supply of oxygen that I have used again and again and again, until I feel the very air I breathe in is suffocating me.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Loss
Losing everything you've written over the last 2 to 3 years feels like losing a child. I feel so empty right now... like a mother who's just suffered a miscarriage tending to her empty womb. Its like, a part of me is gone... forever.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Thoughts of an Insomniac
Its 4:36 am in the morning, I have to be out of bed by 8:30 and in the University by 11. Now if you were in my shoes wouldn't you have been in bed already for like... 4 hours? But what do I do? I sit here writing blogs. I'm not even sure of what I'm writing right now really. There's no coherence in my head. I fight really hard to keep some things under a lid, but at times they escape, and the timing is always perfect! I feel angry right now! Angry for having indulged in intense conversations and dwelt on things I should have been ignoring! I mean honestly! is this the time? I'm going to be late tomorrow morning, because I will miss my alarm, then I will suffer from anxiety because I'm late and finally totter into class drunk from lack of sleep! Such a pretty picture! I should just kill myself!
I'd like to make something clear. I hate the milk producing mammal and I hate the hairy ape she dated! I dont care if my hatred is based on someone else's lies, all I know is it is too potent and I cant even begin reasoning with myself when it comes to this. Emotions arent things that go out of your system like potty, and hate is a very powerful emotion. Maybe I'm incredibly stupid because I dont believe in theories like realize what actually happened and move on and be indifferent to all of it, but its who I am. As an individual I have certain ways and methods and defense mechanisms of dealing with things.
Strength isnt always in fighting back. It requires an enormous amount of strength to keep everything inside as well. And as evil and stupid some people are, no one escapes karma. You build relationships on someone else's tears, those relationships break. You manipulate someone because you know they love you, you end up deprived of love as well.
Go ahead and live in an imaginary world where I wronged you and you were just unfortunate to come across someone who turned out just like the rest and betrayed you too. But surely even you must have some part of yourself telling you that it knows the truth!
Just to be sure no one is in any doubt anymore... I repeat... The girl I used to know died a long time ago... the monster that took its place I heartily despise!
Good Night!
I'd like to make something clear. I hate the milk producing mammal and I hate the hairy ape she dated! I dont care if my hatred is based on someone else's lies, all I know is it is too potent and I cant even begin reasoning with myself when it comes to this. Emotions arent things that go out of your system like potty, and hate is a very powerful emotion. Maybe I'm incredibly stupid because I dont believe in theories like realize what actually happened and move on and be indifferent to all of it, but its who I am. As an individual I have certain ways and methods and defense mechanisms of dealing with things.
Strength isnt always in fighting back. It requires an enormous amount of strength to keep everything inside as well. And as evil and stupid some people are, no one escapes karma. You build relationships on someone else's tears, those relationships break. You manipulate someone because you know they love you, you end up deprived of love as well.
Go ahead and live in an imaginary world where I wronged you and you were just unfortunate to come across someone who turned out just like the rest and betrayed you too. But surely even you must have some part of yourself telling you that it knows the truth!
Just to be sure no one is in any doubt anymore... I repeat... The girl I used to know died a long time ago... the monster that took its place I heartily despise!
Good Night!
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Closure
Let me tell you something about myself. I have been angry for quite some time now. Actually anger would be an understatement, I have been furious, covered up to my neck in rage, the kind of rage that turns you into a sadist, makes you imagine horrible things happening to people who've hurt you, and you standing there with a scorn on your lips. And I hate it, and I'm tired of it. This is not me, I miss my sweet, naive and devastatingly optimistic self. I miss the person who used to make others believe that you can overcome glitches in your friendships and relationships, that in the end love makes forgiving easy, and that bonds dont have to break. But then one of my most important and cherished bonds broke, and it left a cynical mind and a dead body behind. At first I was amazed at how fast I'd recovered this time, heck! one night! that's a record right? But now that I look back the only thing I managed to do was repress the hurt to such a degree that I fooled myself into believing it doesnt exist. But it does, only thing is the pain has morphed itself into uncontrollable rage. And I'm tired, tired of being angry all the time. And the reason that I still have so much resentment filled in me is because I never got closure. I just sat there staring at a computer screen while my world fell to pieces. I didnt get to shout, or speak my mind. Well I am going to now, because I want to let go of the anger and move on. I want to be indifferent to this. And in the end this probably wont work, and a degree of sadism will remain, like it remains for the handful of people I hate with all my strength, but maybe this boiling rage, this feeling of having been wronged will go away.
I had psychology for my extra departmental course this semester, and thanks to it I came across a term called projection, it means projecting all your shortcomings and faults onto another person. And it instantly made me think of you, because that is what you did to me. You said I love victimizing myself, and that it is apparent in my blogs, my status updates and my narration to others. You said I never loved you but did whatever I did for you for one and a half years just because I thrived on the fact that I was so important to you.First of all, have you taken a good look at your life? Your entire life has been a web of lies, illusions that you believed so hard in that you made me believe in them as well. And I would have believed in them forever, despite getting to know the opposite everyday, if you hadnt done what you did. But why should I ignore reality anymore? Your entire existence is nothing but a cry for pity. And you my dear, are the last person who has a right to judge me on that ground. My only fault was I chose to talk to friends instead of going insane or popping pills continuously. That doesnt help much does it? I've seen enough to know the results. You think I thrived on the fact that I felt important in your life? Let me tell you something, you thrived because you knew you were so important to me. If I was the one thriving on importance then I would have taken you for granted and not the other way round. I'll tell you what actually happened. You kept telling me stories about how people always leave you, and you were waiting for me to leave too, to continue that perfect streak, to tell later people stories about me, but when I refused to give up you got irritated, projected all you faults and shortcomings on me and left instead.
I do not believe in delusions, hence I will not say I hate you. I love you, and a part of me will always love you, its just that I've stopped listing to that part of me. That girl that I fell in love with died. She only exists in my memory and imagination now. And when I retreat into my mind and find her, she's still just as lovable, just as capable of making my eyes fill up with happy tears. But the one that roams around in her skin in the University is nothing but a monster, and I hate her.
Right, now that that is off my chest... I have a show tomorrow, I will go do more important stuff now.
I had psychology for my extra departmental course this semester, and thanks to it I came across a term called projection, it means projecting all your shortcomings and faults onto another person. And it instantly made me think of you, because that is what you did to me. You said I love victimizing myself, and that it is apparent in my blogs, my status updates and my narration to others. You said I never loved you but did whatever I did for you for one and a half years just because I thrived on the fact that I was so important to you.First of all, have you taken a good look at your life? Your entire life has been a web of lies, illusions that you believed so hard in that you made me believe in them as well. And I would have believed in them forever, despite getting to know the opposite everyday, if you hadnt done what you did. But why should I ignore reality anymore? Your entire existence is nothing but a cry for pity. And you my dear, are the last person who has a right to judge me on that ground. My only fault was I chose to talk to friends instead of going insane or popping pills continuously. That doesnt help much does it? I've seen enough to know the results. You think I thrived on the fact that I felt important in your life? Let me tell you something, you thrived because you knew you were so important to me. If I was the one thriving on importance then I would have taken you for granted and not the other way round. I'll tell you what actually happened. You kept telling me stories about how people always leave you, and you were waiting for me to leave too, to continue that perfect streak, to tell later people stories about me, but when I refused to give up you got irritated, projected all you faults and shortcomings on me and left instead.
I do not believe in delusions, hence I will not say I hate you. I love you, and a part of me will always love you, its just that I've stopped listing to that part of me. That girl that I fell in love with died. She only exists in my memory and imagination now. And when I retreat into my mind and find her, she's still just as lovable, just as capable of making my eyes fill up with happy tears. But the one that roams around in her skin in the University is nothing but a monster, and I hate her.
Right, now that that is off my chest... I have a show tomorrow, I will go do more important stuff now.
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