Dreams are desperate, desperate indeed and when you really want something you can't have, it finds a way to come haunt you in your dreams. Except you didn't haunt me last night. You just came to me. It was an array of all the people I love actually. From my favourite guys, to my favourite cousins, to parents, to Doll, to S, to you. And boy were you jealous about sharing me.
I saw a friend in my dreams after some two years since we haven't met (Read: Anirudh) and it was like a rush through my head. So freakin' real.
*contd.
Sorry, got distracted then and lost my stream of thought. Now I'm back with Coldplay blasting in my ears and a smoke in my hand. I spoke to Adhiraj 2 in the morning, and it was nice. I'm somehow reminded of him as I finished watching a certain movie.
Anyway, I don't exactly feel like ranting about my desperate dreams or how bad I want to see certain people. I don't even want to whine about not being able to watch Metallica perform coz honestly I'd rather be in this place than where the thousands of people who signed up for the Delhi concert only to be shattered, are. Atleast I knew since day one I was never going to watch them live, I was just the harbinger of the good news to someone who loved me for it. I hope he gets to have the time of his life tonight and that's about it.
Yes, I can be selfless at times. I'm happy about my friends celebrating Halloween in a real world and not in this sub-urban outskirts of nothing. I'm happy about my classmates all having gone home for the "Sem break" as they call it or the lack thereof. I'm happy that I have my music, my solace. Thank you ColdPlay. Even though I personally think you could've done better, just the fact that I have a new album to devour is good enough. I'm even happy about 'Pumped up kicks' stuck on my loop.
Okay, enough fake rants.
I'm bla. Phased out and about to sleep off for the third time today. I'm trying to recall and relive the dream I had this morning but I remember it very faintly, too faintly to even replay. And I'm kind of tired of replaying the summer.
Chupke Se just came up on my shuffle. I didn't change it. I am becoming strong or maybe just giving up altogether. Even though in my heart I will always believe that in the end everything will be okay, if it's not okay, it's not the end, that's just the stupid me. The real me, the pessimist me knows better, has seen better. Life, it gets in the way of living. It's gotten in my way of living. It's made me co-dependent and dysfunctional. I re-read one of these things by Stephen King today:
Harry Potter is is all about confronting fears, finding inner strength, and doing what is right in the face of adversity. Twilight is all about how important it is to have a boyfriend.
I read Harry Potter some million times each. I barely read Twilight once when I was bored out of my mind. Then why have I turned into Bella Swan? That fragile chic who had nothing better to do than to obsess about her boyfriend and wanting to spend a lifetime with him. The dumb girl who didn't know which guy she wanted. The lame one who kissed her best friend, who kind of always even felt for her best friend but belonged to and loved someone else. The one whose life revolved around a boy or his absence. She used people to fill his void but in all actuality, nobody ever could.
Am I her now? The girl wanting to be a part of his world more than my own? This setting clearly makes for a Forks like place, what with the constant rain and random bursts of sunshine. The one who'd give up anything just to freeze time or have an eternity with him? Why do I question it all so much and keep waiting for the end? Why have I made it out to be a novel and am forever afraid of reaching the last page. What comes next? What happens when I flip over and find nothing more to read? What happens when I lose my words like I lost my heart?
I warned you with my title. Don't blame me if you still kept at it. My rants make no sense to my own head, much less to yours. You know how people say they're at peace with their head? I'm at war, I'm at constant war with my brain and it's thought process. It's too fucked up. My hands are tied as I set up a fall for myself everytime I stand and steady this body of mine. I'm my own suicide bomber.
"I went numb when I learnt to speak."
This is endless. I'll find myself tomorrow. These are just the scattered bits of me and not really me. I'll put myself together tomorrow. I'll fix me and then I'll even fix you.
I saw a friend in my dreams after some two years since we haven't met (Read: Anirudh) and it was like a rush through my head. So freakin' real.
*contd.
Sorry, got distracted then and lost my stream of thought. Now I'm back with Coldplay blasting in my ears and a smoke in my hand. I spoke to Adhiraj 2 in the morning, and it was nice. I'm somehow reminded of him as I finished watching a certain movie.
Anyway, I don't exactly feel like ranting about my desperate dreams or how bad I want to see certain people. I don't even want to whine about not being able to watch Metallica perform coz honestly I'd rather be in this place than where the thousands of people who signed up for the Delhi concert only to be shattered, are. Atleast I knew since day one I was never going to watch them live, I was just the harbinger of the good news to someone who loved me for it. I hope he gets to have the time of his life tonight and that's about it.
Yes, I can be selfless at times. I'm happy about my friends celebrating Halloween in a real world and not in this sub-urban outskirts of nothing. I'm happy about my classmates all having gone home for the "Sem break" as they call it or the lack thereof. I'm happy that I have my music, my solace. Thank you ColdPlay. Even though I personally think you could've done better, just the fact that I have a new album to devour is good enough. I'm even happy about 'Pumped up kicks' stuck on my loop.
Okay, enough fake rants.
I'm bla. Phased out and about to sleep off for the third time today. I'm trying to recall and relive the dream I had this morning but I remember it very faintly, too faintly to even replay. And I'm kind of tired of replaying the summer.
Chupke Se just came up on my shuffle. I didn't change it. I am becoming strong or maybe just giving up altogether. Even though in my heart I will always believe that in the end everything will be okay, if it's not okay, it's not the end, that's just the stupid me. The real me, the pessimist me knows better, has seen better. Life, it gets in the way of living. It's gotten in my way of living. It's made me co-dependent and dysfunctional. I re-read one of these things by Stephen King today:
Harry Potter is is all about confronting fears, finding inner strength, and doing what is right in the face of adversity. Twilight is all about how important it is to have a boyfriend.
I read Harry Potter some million times each. I barely read Twilight once when I was bored out of my mind. Then why have I turned into Bella Swan? That fragile chic who had nothing better to do than to obsess about her boyfriend and wanting to spend a lifetime with him. The dumb girl who didn't know which guy she wanted. The lame one who kissed her best friend, who kind of always even felt for her best friend but belonged to and loved someone else. The one whose life revolved around a boy or his absence. She used people to fill his void but in all actuality, nobody ever could.
Am I her now? The girl wanting to be a part of his world more than my own? This setting clearly makes for a Forks like place, what with the constant rain and random bursts of sunshine. The one who'd give up anything just to freeze time or have an eternity with him? Why do I question it all so much and keep waiting for the end? Why have I made it out to be a novel and am forever afraid of reaching the last page. What comes next? What happens when I flip over and find nothing more to read? What happens when I lose my words like I lost my heart?
I warned you with my title. Don't blame me if you still kept at it. My rants make no sense to my own head, much less to yours. You know how people say they're at peace with their head? I'm at war, I'm at constant war with my brain and it's thought process. It's too fucked up. My hands are tied as I set up a fall for myself everytime I stand and steady this body of mine. I'm my own suicide bomber.
"I went numb when I learnt to speak."
This is endless. I'll find myself tomorrow. These are just the scattered bits of me and not really me. I'll put myself together tomorrow. I'll fix me and then I'll even fix you.
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