Happy Halloween.

When everything is lonely, I can be my own best friend.

Blogs, among other things.

It's funny how it's not even been a year since I started a blog. Yes, I did write before and yes, I even tried to have a blog but that didn't work out. I was too immature and sort of clueless as to what you put on such sort of a forum. It is public and yet I come to realize how blatantly honest all of us here are. It's almost a solace to not see a million likes on it the moment you've finished typing it. It's peaceful to know very few eyes will scan these words. And when they do, they wouldn't be judgmental of the story you're telling, as long as you tell it well.

I follow a few blogs among which I am increasingly growing to like two particular ones.They're quite contrary to each other actually. one is pretty much an optimist while the latter is of course a pessimist like me. I even sort of pseudo share a life story with the author of the latter or so I like to believe. I like to think that I know whatever it is she means. And it's funny to have this sort of a bond, a non-existant one almost.

Also what I really like stumbling upon are these scarce comments on my post. It's so nice to know that someone somewhere was moved by the random shit I had to say. Makes me feel, I don't know, worthwhile?

As to the day, it was nothing significant. I am settling my cupboards, again, and then going out to treat myself to lunch. It's Halloween, I deserve a lunch if nothing else. It's funny but back home I never had to think of whom to go out with. There was always, always someone no matter what the day, time or reason. Here however things don't quite function like that. You're on your own and you better get used to it if you want a chance at a sort of happy life.

The song of the day is Can't take my eyes off you - Frankie Valli.
I love you, baby,
And if it's quite alright,
I need you, baby,
To warm a lonely night.
I love you, baby.
Trust in me when I say:
Oh, pretty baby,
Don't bring me down, I pray.
Oh, pretty baby, now that I found you, stay
And let me love you, baby.
Let me love you. 

I have me.

..the title itself shows how sad my life is but well what can I say about a town in which nobody wants to go out or do something on a goddamn vacation? but you know what, I finally find myself not giving a fuck.

I have Entourage, I have my music, I have books to read.
In short, fuck all you people who never have time for me.
Guess what?
Now I don't have time for you.

BANG.
That's how it's done.

paging all you faggots.

I want to go for a trip.
It doesn't even have to be a fucking long trip, just two-three days away from this city.
Can someone please be man enough to say yes to that?
Let's please go to Baguio people. someone. ANYONE?

Grownups.

Life used to be perfect.
And then we grew up.

Does anybody realize how fucked up that is? this whole process where we go from being kids to adults? The worst bit being, how over-hyped it is and how when you get there, the view is not even worth the climb. I get the fact that we wanted to outgrow the toddler years but honestly, teens were the best. Adolescence aroused the rebel in us where we thought we could change the world when in reality we couldn't exactly do shit except piss off our parents. We were fed, cared for, loved and still carefree. We weren't incharge and hence we could fuck up and the worst thing we got was a shouting (since my parents could never really ground me for more than twelve hours in effect). Ah, life was perfect.

Then we turned eighteen and life just took a complete hundred and eighty degree turn. Boom. You can drink, smoke, marry and have sex (well, almost all of this). And as much of a privilege all of this is supposed to be, it really isn't. Because this time when we fuck up, there is no going back. Now is the time we're all making something of ourselves, finally doing something with out lives and we can't afford to mess it up because it's our lives on the line. This is not just an exam we can reappear for, or a tuition we can bunk and get away with. This is it. Life. All of it. We'll either make it or break it. No third road.

We're away from our safety nets, away from home. We manage everything, trivial and otherwise. From cooking to cleaning to washing to sweeping to mopping to studying to rehearsing to writing to assignments to managing to  finances to security, you name it, you do it. You can't just take a rain check on work anymore because nobody else is going to do it for you. It's just going to keep piling up until the pile crashes. On our fucking shoulders.

There are no maids to clean up behind us or make our beds. There is no ramu kaka to run errands. There's no dad's assistant to send you last minute print outs and there definitely is no mom or dad to help you finish your last minute report. You're on your own baby.

When did that happen? And how do you make it stop?

That's the downside mate. It's not going to stop. It's a one side freeway and once you're on it, there's no going back. Reminisce about the past because that's what it is now.. the past, the by-gone. We've kicked out of our nests.

Now all we have to do is learn how to fly.

random bullshit.

"Just gonna stand there and watch me burn,
That's alright because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry,
That's alright, because I love the way you lie."

The entire song speaks to me, as Eminem always does, but these particular lines sum up every person of my life for me, barring a few, very few exceptions the top of which would be my parents of course. Ma and Papa, in that order. But the rest of the world has just zoomed by at an awfully high speed and left my life ruffled in the process. It's funny why I write of it at an odd time like this after a few pretty neat days with my flatmates and a great night too. But well, music does that to me.

Takes me to different levels and then leaves me there and I just have to hit earth on my own and somehow the fall back is never nice. At times, even the elevation isn't but it's the only way for me to come to terms with my feelings which were always there inside but didn't surface up until now.

It's odd when you feel lonely for no reason at all. Or maybe the whole universe has always made you out to be a loner at the inside. Maybe a part of me always will be just that. An ungrateful bitch who can't break the shell that's built on the outside. But people have peeled off that shell in the past and made me melt. Only, the melting led to a dissolution of my existence completely so much so that I was living for them, and not me.

Everytime I thought this is it I was proven wrong by fate, destiny, luck, whatever the fuck you want to call it. My life has been a punchline to a seriously disturbing joke. Boys are jerks, I get that, I sort of even expect that. Girls are bitches, I know that at some level. But then why do I still expect something, anything different? Because I crave for that person, my one person.

I think I know who it is too.
But I don't think she knows it, and that's what is funny. How I attach everything to a person without them even realizing it.

I want us to be a closed circle. You know the sorts in which you do anything and it's okay. I want to be the one she turns to. I want to for once know that she's an exception that I imagine her to be. Because I don't just want an exception, I want her to be the exception.

Cliffhangers.

I didn't know the exact meaning of this word till like a while back. It's this thing in like a book or a series or a movie which leaves you on the edge, like doesn't give away the end completely and keeps you wondering what's going to happen next.

He was a cliffhanger for me since day one. And damn, he's been the most addictive thing since nicotine. No matter how hard I try, it's almost impossible to give him up. I mean the things that relate me to him are so insignificantly small that I never even know which day I might stumble upon something which rewinds time for me. The funny thing is how little I knew him and how I still feel that I did know him.

Vincent Chase.
He certainly reminds me of this boy who anyway refuses to get out of my system. The eyes, the very exact mischievous twinkle in them; the smile, the damn devilish grin; the wit, the sarcasm, the ohmyfuckinggod.. can I somehow, anyhow stop drawing these connections!

I wish there was a way to go back in time and change things and not let mess happen in our lives. I wish it was possible to just erase things which are just going to remain memories that make you smile eventually but mainly just rip your insides. I wish there was a way to not let people get bored of you or let them fall out of love with you. Because it's funny to suddenly wake up one day and reach out for something that's been long gone. Something that comforted you and kept you alive in your darkest hour, something you partially owe your life to.. it all just vanished.. vaporized all at once.. poof.

Entourage is my favorite show on television. Well, almost. I can never decide between this and Grey's Anatomy, way too tough a choice. But I usually pick the latter because I was introduced to the former by him and I don't need more reminders in my life as to how right he was for me. and how very wrong I am to think that way. Because he isn't! And I have fucking moved on.

I wish my dreams would too. That's all.
Because he has no place in either. Neither my dreams nor my reality.

The light has come back in our lives and there is brightness everywhere.

I edited Tagore here and damn it feels good. Just to be able to sit in current, with a laptop in my face, not even a drop of sweat anywhere on my skin, cold water in one hand and light blazing into my eyes, yes this is perfection today. Life can surprise you at times. just about when you give up hope, God decides to finally stop playing his sadistic joke on you. 

My exams are over today, my fucking finals are done.

I have a twenty day long semester break.

I have electricity!

And I go home in less than forty days. 

Life could really not get more perfect for now. 

Paradox.

It's a funny thing when you're face to face with choices and need to make one when you don't really know what to decide on. Picking one side or choosing a theory is that much more difficult when all are proposed by people you love or if not love, then at least care about. Paradoxes are inevitable and life will make you face very a many and then only you can decide what you want to do with them. At times staying out of the mess is the best option and at times you can't help but wonder what it would be like to be a part of that mess just to be able to sort it out.

Can you really pick sides without hurting either? Or can you actually be on no side at all?

Fuck you Philippines.

So as soon as I decided to become a regular on the blogging market, this too was snatched away from me. Wow, this town does suck. Notice the fact that I call this place I am stuck in a town, not a city because plainly because it refuses to qualify as one. I was close to calling it a village but I somehow held myself back. See? I can be kind too.

It’s been six days without electricity. And no, I do not mean the two-four or maximum six hour power cuts. Nope. I mean the last I saw of electricity was Sunday night when a ridiculously insignificant typhoon hit this island names The Philippines. I call it insignificant because it lasted precisely a day. A day of heavy downpour and tree-falls everywhere you turned and wind strong enough to uproot you and blow you away. Classes were suspended for Monday and Tuesday and it only made sense that electricity went off in the morning. But the second day itself the sun shone right back at us bright as ever and yet, no sign of current. “Be patient”, I was told. And patient I have been. But how much more? From what I heard the last typhoon was bad, one of the worst the country ever saw so the whole power cut for a week made sense but now it’s just ridiculous. Having had to carry my laptop and phone to college everyday in order for a little battery to be recharged has been a pain. Moreover, we all have been having candlelight dinners everyday. Yes, as much of a romanticist as I am, I am not psychic enough to have wished for this. Because this involves not just dinners but cooking too. Oh and let’s not skip, sleeping. Minus  fan, minus so much as a trace or hint of a distant breeze.

I am usually not selfish but I find myself wishing that the typhoon had lasted longer. As much destruction and damage as that would have caused, it would have at least led to better climatic conditions and made this whole week slightly more bearable.

Did I forget to mention that this was my last week before the much awaited semester break? This meant two things. First, that this was exam week which meant having to read and learn by the candle which made me feel somewhat like Ishwar Chandra Vidhyasagar minus his dedication or zeal but just the compulsion. Second, that all the planning that I needed to do this week with anyone and everyone as to where to go and what to do during this break, was put on a hold too. We’ve been forced to be cut off from everyone, not something we had any power to change or do a fuck about. 

My father, the darling that he is, called every single day to be updated about the developments. And sadly enough I informed him each day that there hadn’t been any whatsoever. There was still no sign of a returning typhoon or electricity. Do I sound like a drag whining endlessly? But that is what life without power is! One big fucking drag. The moment daylight starts to run out on you, you find yourself holding on to it with dear life. Because once it’s gone, you’ll be drowned in an ever-lasting darkness. You can’t read, write, type, sit online, watch anything. Conjure up anything you do to kill time on a day to day basis and you will in some way or the other find yourself requiring light to assist you through it.

My mother helped me fall asleep once in between this typhoon struck week since that too proves an impossible task for a dreadful insomniac like me. But this is international distance we are talking about and that did seep in eventually. I found myself singing in the dark in the hope to fall asleep, only to be woken up drenched in a new batch of sweat. The restlessness of the night was reflected in the morning chores and the general irritability all through the day.

I was told that the typhoon passed over to Vietnam within a day. If that was the case, our conditions did nothing to prove it. Suddenly I found myself face to face with assignments which were due and no google to help me through them since WiFi not just at our campus, but all over town had been affected. Also I found myself feeling increasingly like a tribal early man with no scope of improvement. There is not a damn thing you can do since filing electric complaints is also not an option here. Welcome to the Philippines!

Welcome, my ass. These people are astonishingly dumb to say the least. This typhoon business is a yearly recurrent problem. And yet, they take no precautions or preventive measures or set up any sort of back up at all. I mean, are you kidding me? I think a five year old would have as much IQ as to come with a solution to a perpetual problem. But no, this is an oddity of a place indeed where brains are as scarce as wheat flour.

Their stupidity and negligence makes me want to tear the hair off my head and scream and scream and scream until there is no voice left in my throat. Maybe then they will hear me. What the fuck happened to underground wiring? What happened to back up grids? Whatever happened to waste water management? No, they not only have no back-up electricity, they also do not believe in using all this water to their benefit. Water here remains a more expensive commodity than soft drinks. The roads are equivalent to muck long before the typhoon so you can just imagine what this level of rain and wind does to them. It’s like wading through mud with a few pebbles on the way.

Another thing the typhoon taught me was stocking things up. You never know what you’ll run out of and when and whether or not it’ll be available anymore. From fags to candles to chips, biscuits, bread, milk, you name it, we stored it. The only thing which continued to free flow was of course alcohol since that is one thing this country never runs low on or out of.

And all those people who think that this is a good time to bridge distances and spend quality time with each other due to the lack of technological distractions are highly mistaken. By the end of this week, I was so frustrated with my two pretty perfect flatmates that I wanted to run out the door and keep running until the murderous intention of killing them didn’t fade away since I had seen way too much of their face in mine! We all were in dire need of the one thing we did not have, light and its substitute was a common frustration and boredom that continuously built up (at least in me) until it didn’t occupy every pore and inch of my very skin and flesh. We spent days in the lobby and evenings in the balcony, trying to get even each other’s non-existent share of breeze and light. We spent nights by the candles and I personally ignored every churn of my stomach made once I felt I had fed it enough.

For the first time in my life I feel a part of the third world countries, something which I never had to feel back home. And it's still on. Nobody has the slightest idea as to when we'll be blessed with electricity again. Some say tonight, while others say a week more, and there are still others who say it may take upto a month.

Damn you all who call me a NRI. Only I know the price I have to pay to be one.

You didn't have to make promises you couldn't keep.
I never asked you to make me laugh, but why make me weep?

Let's go all the way tonight, no regrets, just love.

There's this thing about barriers. Either you can spend your life building them. Or you can spend it, letting people over. There's a certain sense of relief in both. Kills my angst somehow.

You crossed one, and you'll take forever to cross another. I'm not entirely sure you'd cross the other, or even attempt to. But losing myself to you, was certainly worth letting the guard down.

Self-realization.

It comes to you in odd, peculiar ways. Tonight came mine. I realized how I just blow up things into something half-real. semisolid. Like I live in a fantasy somewhat and then expect it to become a reality just because I want that to be real. Life's not like that. A is A. And no matter how much you want that to change, it doesn't. You can live in a parallel, illusionary world only for so long before reality hits you in the face. It's true. You can't be an optimist for too long as reality has a tendency to bite you in the ass and make you realize why it is that you were a pessimist in the first place. why it isn't all rainbows and daisies and paradise. This isn't paradise city and he's no romeo and there's nothing difficult about it to comprehend. The cards were always dealt right on the table, it's just me who always tends to misunderstand the dealer's intentions while shuffling the pack. There is no half-truth. It's just the plain, ugly one which you want to shy away from. which you want should change but it doesn't. You can make yourself imagine but this imagination can't help you. it doesn't make someone fall for you. Fairytales are just that. tales which are told to us to keep us happy and make us fall asleep to good dreams. nothing more. They certainly don't portray what needs to be portrayed. They don't tell you how people will snap your heart into two and break you over and over again until there's nothing left of you at all. They don't tell you how this world is just a big black hole which sucks everything out of you. I realize it now what you told me the first time we were together, "I hope you don't regret this tomorrow." and I said I wouldn't. Nevertheless, I made you into this person which I wanted you to be but which you never were, and I somewhere knew, you never will be. But that as my friend pointed out today is my problem. You were clear since the beginning. I did the terrible mistake of expecting something different. I got sentimentally attached, as always. and got fucked.

People ask me why I do this to myself. I am asking myself the exact same thing. and I doubt I'll ever find the answer. however the realization has come. The pessimist is back folks. Life is not what you make it, you are what life makes you.

BANG.

Tumors.

tumor n. An abnormal growth of tissue resulting from uncontrolled, progressive multiplication of cells and serving no physiological function.


That's what you are for me. A tumor which seems to be growing endlessly, taking up my entire body. It started with the face, when you'd smile and my face would glow and smile right back. Then it came to the skin, when even a small gesture of friendship would send shivers and goosebumps on my skin. The next was my spine, which seemed to tremble when you put your arm around me. My heart rate was but naturally next, which sped up a gazillion notches as soon as you whispered something in my ears. My heart became yours before I knew it. Reluctance and resistance did not help me much. You just took that away.


But not my brain too. You can't take that part of me. That is just not fair.
It would serve no purpose and would inevitably result in fatality. But maybe that's what tumors are after. Maybe all they do is murder. That is their physiological function.


So are you malignant or benign? 
Are you going to be an insignificant part of me which I become so oblivious to or comfortable with that I stop noticing altogether? Or will you continue to cause this enormous pain in my chest every time I breathe and this feeling of pounding hammers in my head everytime I reflect upon you; upon us.

Lazy mornings.

There's this thing about the sun, when it hasn't quite risen. It's heat and glare doesn't make you hate it then. It's calm and comforting somewhat. When you look at it from under your covers, it tempts you somewhat, to rise up to a new morning. But experience has taught you better.You know it's just another day of drudgery and endless work. You know the comfort will change to pain that makes every inch of your body ache. So you stay in bed a little longer, to put it off. 

The alarm is snoozed when it dares to ring.

The morning coffee turns cold.

And still, you don't want to get out just yet. Maybe if you stay in bed long enough, the insecurities and the world will just fade away. One at a time. Maybe the nightmares won't seem so real, and the distance kill so much.

Maybe, just maybe you'll stop thinking about him. Because you know it's not good. 

It's tearing at your insides and killing you, bit by bit by bit.

That's when you get out of bed, and term it another lazy morning.

I wish I could show you the door.

Because there's nothing surgery can do,
when you break my little heart in two.

-

we're not meant to be.
THIS, I need to see.

Scars.

She used to slit her wrists. It took years for those scars to fade away. Even now if you trace along her wrist closely, you will feel the remains of those wounds which had made her bleed. If you're careful enough you might even see the exact turmoil of her being that had caused it.

She used to go for walks in the darkness of the night. She'd walk miles and then suddenly realize that she was far away from safety; then start the walk back home reluctantly. Being safe was never as exciting as taking a risk. Breaking free from this cage called life, meant so much more than being shut in.

She used to imagine cliff-jumping. What it would be like to just fall off the cliff, as a choice. What a high it must be to feel nothing but gravity; to not be in-charge of your own life, to leave it all to a well defined principle of Physics.To be suspended in free air and then fall in slow motion as the blood rushes to your head, all at once, a little too fast.

She wanted to sign up for the army and fight. She knew she could channelize her fears for the better of the country. She didn't mind dying for a noble cause but maybe this was a desire only because she knew it could never be achieved.

She liked thinking about the impossible; dreaming about the unattainable. She liked to believe she could make it otherwise. She liked to defy the rules of physics, the logarithms of mathematics, the trends of life.

But most of all she liked them, scars. As the blood dripped from different parts of her body, oozed from her own flesh and trickled down her sun-burnt, tanned skin, it was like a parallel world. The bruises weren't half as high inducing as the rush that came when she put them under a cool stream of water. The burning made it so much more real. The pain was like adrenaline. Her pain was always an adrenaline. These were the scars of a martyr she thought.

It's now she realizes that those were scars of a coward.
These scars, now, are the ones that mean something.
They mean the fucking world to her.

Gamble.

It's all a mistake? Too big a risk to take? Well then I'm taking it anyway. I'm crossing over. The edge, the line, whatever you want to call it. Because it's better to cross the line and suffer the consequences than stare at the fucking line all my life. I am putting myself in the unsafe zone once more. I'm giving you a part of me, to keep forever or maim or break or love. I'm believing you. I'm believing in you. I know it's stupid and insane and it's going to fuck me up in more ways than I can count. But I can't hold myself back any longer, that's just not me. I'm seeing only the good in you. I'm seeing you everywhere. I find myself wanting to see you everywhere. I'm falling for you.

Catch me baby, don't let me fall.

I am a shade of crazy. We could be a shade of crazy.
Together.

I am gambling on my life again. And my bet's on you baby, all my bets are on you this time.

Summer.

Summer has indeed come and passed. It's my favorite time of the year. Queer since I hate heat but it is. And it's almost over, yes. It gets dark sooner and walking back from college scares me at times now since the road back home is absolutely pitch dark as soon as the clock strikes six. And yes, even though I live in a fucking oven of a city, I'm content with the small fan I have at the moment. I actually use a blanket to avoid catching a cold and be comfortable rather than shiver through the night. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate sleeping alone? It makes me insecure and vulnerable and all the things I associate with being pathetic :|

Also, I've done nothing all summer it feels. The semester is ending, finally, and as happy as that makes me, I wonder if it in any way was productive.

I met you.
And suddenly I feel the summer is slipping away.
And now I want to make it stay.

This is becoming it, and I wish it wasn't.

You know how sometimes there are certain songs which, as they envelop you in their melody and lyrics, transport you into a whole new realm where everything feels different... tangible and fragile, where even a soft whisper is the clearest sound you've heard, and when the faintest color is the brightest you've ever seen? As much as I love music, this isn't about that, no. It's about you, again.


You're that clear blue sky of mine which I don't want the rain to kill. You're that dew drop in the morning on which I don' want to step. You're that first shower of the fall and the last ray of sun in the cold. You're that exact shade of red maple leaves which even when they're downtrodden on the road, make it so beautiful. You're the moody painter that is snappy and mean but when he sets down to it, pains a masterpiece with every stroke. You're the joy of a toddler's first steps. You're the pride of a child's first words. You're the cool breeze one feels after they've walked and walked and walked to the top of a hill and then look back to gaze at the view the breeze mildly blowing them away. 


You're the breeze and the view.
But you're not just mine, you're someone else's too.

For the one woman I remain in awe of.

Shhh baby.
Let's not cry anymore. The time for tears has passed us, don't you think? We've cried our share and now it's time to wipe those eyes and stop the Kohl running. Your eyes are way too beautiful for the mascara to smudge them over and over again. Your gaze is so comforting that one look at your face and I feel so blessed and touched. Like my very soul is at peace.

You do that to me Ma.. only you. You and all the little things you do. All the things you've ever done. You've made me so proud of being your daughter.. am I even worthy of being one? You've always led by example and never have you let the generation gap affect us darling. You were my first ever best friend and continue to be.

It just hit me. I would always crib about my best friends leaving me or backstabbing me deserting me. I am a whiner, you know it. But I never stopped to realize that I've had one constant best friend for over nineteen years now. I am luckier than everybody else. I have had a best friend since 14th of November, when I became a part of you.

I know life's been hard on you and me. And on us together. But together we can brave it all out. You make me want to brave it out. You make me strong. You keep me going when I just want to raise my hands up in despair and give up. You know what we have isn't just a normal mother-daughter relation, right? It's so much more. You're so much more.

"Everything always happens for a reason.
That's what destiny is.
Well, no more worries, rest your head and go to sleep.
Maybe one day we'll wake up and this will all just be a dream.
Now, hush little baby, don't you cry. Everything's going to be alright."

I can see anything in this world, except see you break. Your strength is like a constant for me now. I can't see that one constant change. Life's always been one long row of changes and inconsistency. But you're the one who was never inconsistent. You've been the one stable force, all my life. You never walked out on me. You never left me standing alone.

You read my unwritten stories. You heard my unspoken words.
I hold nothing against you. It's okay to have missed a few of them. I always wanted to be an actress remember? I guess I was a good actor afterall. (Sorry, bad attempt at humor)

"You be good and don't you miss me.
Few more years and I'll be done with college.
And I'll be making history, like I do.
You know, it's all because of you..
We can do whatever we want to..
This one's for you, oh here's to you.."

So now is not the time to cry baby. Hold every precious tear back. It's time to celebrate. It's the time to lay back and watch all your dreams about me come true. Watch me become every colour that you raised me to be. Watch me be your rainbow baby, I will be the rainbow to your sky.

October begins.

Hatred is a very underestimated emotion.
- Jim Morrison