I love you, OKAY.

"So the lover must struggle for words."
-T.S.Eliot


I'm struggling. I'm staggering. I'm lost. I'm so fucking lost without you in my day. I'm lost without you in my life. Go ahead, grin. I can't stay mad at you. Not even if I use every ounce of my energy and channelize it into being pissed, I look at your damn picture and it has to make me smile. UGH. I don't mean shit man. I can feel whatever I want but you'll say one sweet thing to me, one teeny-tiny thing and I'll melt like ice. I will dissolve into the warmth that you radiate towards me. Love was truly made for fools like me! If love is blind, if love's a drug, if love's a trap, it always was and always is- but that's it, it was made for fools like me.


I don't quite know what I'm saying here except that I'm saying it alright. I need to stop running. You need to stop holding yourself back. For once, we need to let go. I know you're not much of a risk taker. I know you like to call yourself, a safe player. But it will so be worth crossing every line that you cross. 


That's the thing about boundaries. You can either spend your life making them, or crossing them. I'm ready to cross all the lines I made, ready to climb over all the walls I built around me, ready to fall from the highest mountain; but the thing is, are you ready to catch me?

Guess who? I wish atleast I knew!

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

If only.

My dreams are so ironic. They'll be depressing when I'm happy and at times when I'm the saddest I'll have a dream from which I never want to wake up. I read in Shantaram that a dream is a place where a wish and a fear meet.

I dreamt that he was saying I love you to me.
Over and over again.

I remember him typing it, I love you Shiromi. I love you, I love you, I love you.
And then he called me and said it until I wept with tears of joy and happiness.

It made up for all the nightmares I've ever had. The sheer unachievability of it and yet, how real it felt.

If only I could have lived in my dream forever.
If only.

A picture is worth a thousand words; I think I just said a million.

Sleepless, much?

My sleep is broken mostly, in odd parts and miscomprehended moments. I find myself awake at the weirdest of hours. There's a certain procedure I carry out when that happens. I check my phone to see the time, and nothing else, and then try and sleep some more. Depending on the number of pings I saw unread, I grow more and more restless until I decide to just take a peek. Once I've read them however, my sleep is far gone and then I have nothing left for company in the dark, cold night but me and my half-dead brain.

Even though I say goodnight, I'm far from sleep. You've disturbed me.

I decide to read but I am not in the mood for a brilliant book right now. More brilliance just makes me feel inadequate. I open my laptop instead to read what other people I follow have to say. Tonight, they have a lot to say so I'm saved from my own thoughts, at least for a while.

I go to the balcony to get myself something and I feel the chill around me. It's dawn. And there's a beauty about dawn which no other part of the day can ever possess. If I was more of a morning person, I'd wake up early each day just to take it in, over and over again. There's a spark about it somewhat. Something that inspires. It's like you have the whole day ahead of you, whole life ahead of you, make it or break it.

The new Radiohead album is out and on download. I've loved Radiohead since I heard creep and I want to see how this album works for my mind. The last entire album that I fell in love with was Waking Up by One Republic. What an album that was! I hope this one comes close to that. It's been a while since I heard any album that I could listen to nonstop without skipping any songs.

I changed a lot of things about me this week. I'm a work in progress and I'm trying to see where this goes. It's my last shot and I sincerely hope it works out because if not, I'm done trying here. There's only so much a person can take.

Also, at times I feel I need to start a new blog you know and tell nobody about it. Because these days people think they read my blog and they know me and they know what's wrong. That's why I was off for a bit. You're supposed to figure that out on your own and not use my blog to help you! I mean, what? Also, people really need to stop judging and/or telling me what to do. I like alcohol. I like cigarettes. I'd like to die young, thank you very much. This is me and I am not changing. Accept me and stop rolling your eyes or walk away, trust me I am used to people walking away.

It's funny - life. When everything seems to be finally, finally falling into place, something goes and gets fucked. It's almost as if we're not meant to be happy. I know, I know, random ranting again. But I spoke to a few people today. And they had some notsonice things to say. Things that put the whole "me- a work in progress" on a sort of hold and messed with my clarity of thought.

I just started listening to The Communication. Again.
I miss Priyamvada. Again.
I want to sleep in my mother's arms. Again.

I am such a kid really. I need to grow up, like now. The squabble I mention is so insignifuckingficant. To anyone and everyone around me. Except maybe these two girls. "PS": Iloveyou.

Oh and these two boys. Both with the same name. I think the very name has a knack of saving me. I pinged one this morning once I was sure I was not going to be sleeping, and it was quite simple really.

S: Hello! What's up?
A: Nothing in a movie.
S: Later then?
A: Yeah. Anything wrong?

How could someone whom I barely talk to anymore, so simply know that I had something on my mind. And how come someone I spend so much time talking to, never does? Or wait, maybe they do and just don't care enough to ask or change it. Anyway, just knowing that this first guy still gets me, was well, relieving and made me happy, whatever little happiness I could fathom.

I sent a forward today. It spoke of girls. A part of it explained as to how girls cry more than they let you on.
It wasn't really girls I was talking about; I think it was me, trying to tell someone, anyone, that I spend a share of my day weeping, within.

But then again, you don't really care much, do you?
I'm just another depressed teen, trying to figure out her life, with nothing for company but that half-dead brain I woke up with two hours back. What happened to the rest, you ask. You killed it.

Pop.

As kids, we blew bubbles and when they burst, it was like the end of an era. We'd chase them, like dreams, run in circles behind them and when they popped, because we were greedy, us trying to catch them and feel them if they were real, a part of us saddened immensely. But when you're kids, you run after another bubble, another dream, another pop without giving it much thought.

When you grow up, you become rigid. You want certain things. And you want them a certain way. And you don't budge. That's the complexity of growing up. You stop saying what you want, you just expect the world to get it. They know you, they're supposed to know it. But I don't! I can't comprehend what you want from me. Whether it's space or distance or the invasion of that privacy. Is it my time or some time off? Do you expect me to hug you when I see you or wave? Why chain me in rules, why can't anyone, ever take me for what I am? An overtly emotional, hypersensitive, excessively warm, slightly insecure, very possessive human? Someone who loves with all she has, someone who would give her life for her friends and someone who'd take a life for her parents. It's simple really. Nothing complex about me at all.

I like to be cared about. And spoiled rotten. And pampered. And loved. It's funny, when we're hungry we don't hesitate in saying, I'm dying of hunger; when we're tired we don't feel awkward saying, God I am sleepy as hell but when we feel like we're not being loved enough we never say, I'm starving for love. But love is just as basic a need! There. I said it.

You figure me out and you make it so much simpler for the both of us. I hate calls on waiting. I hate waiting for someone to come online. I hate waiting in general. I hate it when my toasts gets even slightly more stiff than I want it to. I cannot stand the coffee if it's not strong enough. I hate pretending to ignore you or not want to talk to you because let's face it, we both know it, I do want to talk. I hate brbs that change to silence when I had something to say. I notice every tiny thing an individual says or does. I get happy when I see a comment on my blogposts, very much so. I am jubilant when someone takes the time to type me a mail, it's almost as good as receiving a letter, almost. It's like someone that day wanted me to know what is up with them and would want to know what I'm upto. And they had the patience to type it down for me and not just mutter a what's up on a chat.

God. Too much of I like this and I hate that.
The point is, nobody's even listening; are you?
Nobody really cares. 

In a rut.

Life's so monotonous and bland at times. This is one of those times. AH.

India's so much simpler. I can just pick up a phone and dial 2353191. Make that one call and talk senseless things and it's cool. I'm at peace with myself. It is usually just the random rants of a million insignificant things and still, that call gets me through. And that call has been the constant of my day and the highlight for a very long time now. I spent today wanting my phone to ring, you know how it happens when you just need someone to call, okay you probably don't because well, people must be calling you but when you're here, nobody does.

There's a sort of peace in that too. A calmness of sorts. But I wanted more than anything for that calm to break. Obviously it didn't.

I watched Roadies Auditions to distract me. But that didn't work much either. It reminded me of how we would all play pretend and "audition" for Roadies among ourselves. Ah, what a dream that was Doll. To audition for roadies together. One of the many we shared. One of the many that couldn't come true.

I came online to talk to Mom and Dad but Ma's busy with her life too. I've wanted for a year now for her to have her own life, her own circle and yet, when she does, it kills me. Selfish, much? Oh hell yes I am. It's like she's supposed to be mine before anyone else's and it's disturbing when I see that change, even if just by an inch.

Then I decided to listen to music.
Take a tip?
When you're mindfucked, never put on music. It will ensure it depresses you beyond imagination. But no, I didn't get depressed tonight. I got frustrated instead. By everything and everyone. Even the random reader who's reading this right now.

I am signing out now to go scream into my pillow or smash glasses against the wall.
Advice: Stay away.

Goodnight.

My silence could mean you’re just not worth the argument anymore.

Another failed surgery.

She hit the light. It was 3 a.m. and it was high time she got some sleep. Cigarette after cigarette was getting her nowhere. She had a full day tomorrow and today's outcome could have no bearing on what tomorrow held in store for her.


3.27

She switched on the light again and picked up a book. She'd been reading this one for quite some time now, less because of it's length and more because of her hectic schedule.

4.27

The book was finally starting to gather some pace. Two coffees down and a couple of cigarettes later, sleep had still not blessed her eyes. Her eyes darted to the guy beside her she loved and wanted to spend her life with. If only she could find the words. She thought she'd write them down instead.

5.13

And a million torn pages later, she had still not been able to conjure the words to tell him how much she wanted him. Not just for right now, but forever. How did you know just 5,616,000 seconds after being with someone that this was who you wanted? And how did you know if they wanted you back, for even one day, leave apart a lifetime?

5.25

The alarm would go off any second now. She switched off the light once more and pulled the covers up till her chin. She didn't even need to close her eyes.

5.30

Buzzz. He hit the alarm and snuggled up close to her.
"'Morning", he mumbled.
"Slept well?", he added.

She said, yeah as a tear quietly slid off her eye. He noticed neither the tear, nor the lie.

Obstacles in the way of losing weight.

1. Chocolates
2. Cakes
3. Candy
4. Alcohol (read: beer, wine, whiskey)
5. Internet
6. BBM
7. Hide and seek/milano/oreo/jim-jam
8. Sisig!
9. Sleep

I don't want to enter the double digits or I'll never stop :P

Demons.

There are the ones that possess you, and the ones which have been in you all along. I wonder which is it we should be more scared of. the ones we have no control over or the one which dwells in us, forever, an imprint of us. The ones which exist in our minds or the ones which actually, physically exist in this society whom we're all impervious and blind to. I am extremely scared of the demons within me; the ones which haunt me and don't let me sleep. But I am so much more scared of the ones walking by us, on this walk of life. So scared of the demon among each and everyone of us. Not the one which makes us insecure or possessive or scared. The one which kills and molests and rapes and steals and stabs. How do you tell one from another? When does one's own fear changes to fury or rage and turns to blinding hate. How do you fight the demons from your past? How do you fight the demons of your present - the ones that refuse to let go of you; the ones that make it imperative for you to think that you're all alone in this world. I want my demons to go away now.
Help me get an exorcism, anyone?

This time when you hold me, don't let go.

Because I love you.
And that's got to count for something, right?

Ignoring you is the hardest thing I do.

It's not like I don't want to talk to you.
It's not that I don't imagine how your words would feel on my skin.
It's just that anything I want to say to you now, is something that you don't want to hear.


I also checked the meaning of few words to kill time since clearly I am getting no sleep.
And also because I had my concepts all wrong.


1. Distance - The extent of space between two objects or places; an intervening space.
(From personal experience: This measurable little bastard usually fucks up your world)

2. Goodbye - An acknowledgment at parting, until you meet again.

(From personal experience: Once you say this, there's usually no going back, ever)

3. Break -  to separate into parts with suddenness or violence

(From personal experience: A break is a break up expressed in lesser letters)

4. Break-up - The discontinuance of a relationship, as a marriage or a friendship.

(From personal experience: When this happens, you usually lose the one person you never wanted to lose. And more often that not, you never get them back; more often than not by the time they do come, you don't want them back)

Same mistake, twice.

I want to get lost from my life sometimes,

Sit on the side and watch the world go by,

I want to get lost; and I don't know why. 

- Everclear

I don't know if I'm getting better, or just used to the pain. I don't know if you've ever felt like that. That you want to sleep for a thousand years, or just not exist, or just not be aware that you do exist, or something like that. I know that thinking something like this is very morbid, but I want it when I get like this. That is why I'm trying not to think. I just want it all to stop spinning.

I say I don't care but my eyes tell a different story. I want to wake up and go through a day without feeling anything at all. Nothing, zilch, nada. But then that would mean being a coward. I think pain is what makes it real. Pain is what keeps you going, because then someday you hope it just will have to get better. I hope that day is soon.

I'm tired of feeling like someone tore apart my insides. I feel like a stranger in my own skin, so hollow from within it shocks me even. It's like I can't believe I actually am a loser inside. Like someone who falls for crap all the time! Someone who puts their faith in all the wrong things and all the wrong people at all the wrongs times for all the wrong reasons! Someone who swears to never give a part of herself to anyone ever again and then goes ahead and does it anyway. because well hey, exceptions! Those are needed. Except that they're not! When you go through a life like mine, you stop making these exceptions. You just face reality.

Reality is that some people are just not meant to be with other people. Reality is that no matter how bad you want something, chances are you won't get it. Even if you do get it, it wouldn't last.

And the most important reality is that people will fuck you; over and over and over again.

Somehow you're just supposed to tolerate the change and move the fuck on.

You have to just take all the hurt and pain and agony and shut it up in a box and then throw that box far, far away.. so far that it is out of sight forever.

Because well, as they say, and I truly believe now, out of sight, out of mind.

And just like that, it's over.

You know I could've held you in my arms forever? It still wouldn't have been long enough.

So I let go.

Bleed me to death.

"Suicide is a fundamental human right.
This does not mean that it is morally desirable.
It only means that society does not have the moral
right to interfere."   ~ Thomas S. Szasz

Why does this rhyme?

Sometimes I wish I could just be a little kid again.  So when life gets tough you can just play pretend.  I wanna go back to when Santa did exist.  When your daddy was the only boy you ever kissed and so the boy you kissed never turned around and hurt you so bad, it felt like a knife in your stomach that just bled and bled.  When Disney World was the best place to be.  When the only movies you could see were rated G.  When your biggest problem was learning to write your name and people didn't change...and your friends were just always the same.  And every time you were sad or you had a bad day.  You could just run to mommy and it would all be okay.  I wanna go back to no hurt...and no pain...just laughter.  When everyone always lives happily ever after.

: There's no way to fix you; or me; or us.

Statistics.

Today genuinely crawled.
Or maybe it was just that we didn't talk once in the past seventy two hours and we didn't even text in the past twenty four. I think I can go more without it now. The question is, can you?

Grenade.

He called her.

It had been months since she heard his voice. The last she heard it was this one cold day of December when smoke muffled it and clustered their thoughts and that too she owed to someone else.

“Hey..”

That’s what he said. It wasn’t an exclamation, it wasn’t even a greeting. It was like picking up something exactly from where it’d been left off.

“Hi....” she stuttered.

They spoke about general things and yet there was something different in the air. He inquired about the time. She said it was sometime after five. He said damn, it’s late, maybe he should call another time. She said no, it was the perfect time.

There were awkward silences filled up by sighs and pauses.

“You’re quieter than you used to be. Is this what, what’shisname has done to you?”

“No. I don’t know what to say really..”

“Since when do you need help in talking baby?”

That statement sent shivers down her spine, goosebumps on her body.

“I’m not your baby anymore.”

“But you used to be. You know you always will be.”

“No I won’t actually. I like someone else. I’m seeing him! I fucking love him.”

“Does you really?”

She didn’t want the awkward silence to bite at her insides again and he obliged her with his laugh.

“You’re scared he’ll leave you, aren’t you?”

She was still trying to form the words., wanting desperately to say something which would tell him just how wrong he was but somehow all that formed were half-sewn sentences in her head, which were stitched so loosely, they never made it out.

“You know I know you. You know I’m here now. Why are you still running away?”

“Because you left!” she intended to whisper it but it came out as a yell. She hadn’t even meant to say it out loud at all.

“I know. Sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix everything.”

“But my sorry always did. You know you can’t say no to me.”

“What do you want from me?” 

Now she was yelling, she couldn’t help it.

“I want you. It’s simple. You know it’s the right thing to do. Let the other guy be. I can’t promise I won’t make you cry again but I’ll be there to take care of you afterwards.”

“Is that it? Is that what you say to me after two years?”

“Oh no. I almost forgot. I love you.”

He’d known just what to say and when. He said the words she’d been aching to hear, though it wasn’t him she’d been wanting to hear them from.

When only silence greeted his confession, he said, “Come on. I know it. You feel the same way too. Drop the pretence already. Why do you always have to chase the wrong people at the wrong time? You know it’ll end up hurting you only. You know he’ll end up breaking you.”

There was something wrong about this conversation. She could feel it since the start but she could just not place it. She finally decided to say it all out even though she’d vowed he was not even worth her words anymore. She decided to break one more vow for him.

“I loved you, it’s true. But I don’t anymore. I’ll spend my life convincing everyone now it feels. Because nobody believes it...” he cut her off saying, “nobody believes you because it’s not true.”

“Listen to me. Just shut up and listen. I don’t. I know it breaks your little bubble of whatever it was, imagination, wishful thinking or hope. I gave you everything I had and you broke me in unimaginable ways. You think I’ll go through all that pain again with the person I’m seeing? Maybe I will. But I will most definitely not go through all that pain with you ever again.”

“But he doesn’t love you like I do.”

“And neither do you. But the difference now is that I love him.”

“He’ll leave you too. Once he knows you enough, he’ll leave. It’s just a matter of time. You know it's true. Somewhere inside of you, you know it is.”

Her voice cracked with tears and she could feel herself choke. She felt she was drowning and she needed to come up for air but she just somehow couldn't.

*

That was when she awoke with a start.

It was queer as to how real this dream felt. She looked around to check her phone.

1:19 p.m. and some pings.

She checked to see if there had been a call. There was. Was this why the tears on her cheeks were still fresh?

She didn't even know which bits were real and which bits she had imagined. She never remembered a dream as well as she remembered this one. Did that mean there was something in it she was supposed to comprehend and work out on her own? A hint she was supposed to take?

As all his sentences came flowing back to her, especially the last, she realized that even if it was all just a dream it had been a one which she'd dreamt for preparing her for the reality that was soon to unfold. 

This one's for you, Major.

In militant attires,
and army shoes,
you left your world behind,
in teary mothers,
and proud fathers,
you left the nation far back.

You started out slow,
but you made it through,
through dark nights,
and darker days.

You kept it low,
the anxiety, the hunger, the thirst,
the fear
of losing and;
of things you'd already lost.

The stars dissolved.
The sun refused to shine.
But we saw you smile radiantly,
as you marched;
not a step went amiss.

You mourned the loss of another comrade,
mourning like he were family,
weeping tears of blood
and swearing for his family,
revenge.

As you loaded your guns,
as you rode in those tanks,
as you flew in those planes,
I looked up and whispered a thank you;
and I know that you heard.

In those barracks,
you were never alone.
When the bullets were fired,
I was saying a prayer.
and I know god heard.

I salute you for what you aspired,
something selfless and noble and strong,
And no matter what the future holds for you,
We'll have you in our hearts forever;
Because that my friend, is where you belong.

Just another date.

I want you to be my valentine in ways I cannot say,
In infinite and eternity
In nights and days,
Rewind the clock; and
Make it stay.

In dreams and shadows,
of drives and songs,
of hands which slightly brushed
and hands we held,
to hands we refused to let go.

In late nights and early mornings,
of sleeptalking and moonwalking,
come back,
and sing to me.
Oh, please sing to me.

I crossed today; off
the calender
it's just another day,
just another date,
that went by,
without you.