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“It was not so much that he was shut out, but that she was trapped inside”

phone in bus

SO my friend sends me sends me an audio message this morning about how de-sensitized he thinks he has become for a period of time, how disconnected from everything and distant from everyone. I listen to the message, my upper lip curls and look around for a while.

I don’t remember the last time I felt connected to anyone, by anyone I mean ANYone. Now that I think about it, the last person I felt really in tune with was my sister and it has been a long while since she has gone. I don’t remember sharing a really worthwhile conversation for a long time, I don’t remember being absolutely happy or being utterly sad. A few weeks earlier my cousin said I really was dead inside. I haven’t found a book to die for in months. Haven’t had the stomach to watch an entire movie in one setting for over a year. The really, really weird psychologist I worked with for my internship tried shooting all kinds of darts in my direction, calling me an introvert, saying I never shared anything personal with the group the entire time blah blah blah and right now as the only friends I have in my college leave me to go out, I so wish I at least felt bad at not being included, or that the way I and Bubbly have drifted apart would affect me a little, or that sometimes it would give me a sting thinking how absolutely shrunken has my world become and that maybe I would breakdown thinking my mom would die any day now… but no. I feel nothing.
So what do I tell him?

 
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Posted by on August 7, 2015 in Balderdash Thoughts, Incidents

 

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Coming to you, straight from the ice-box (I)

Window

I know it is hot outside, trust me I do. I was the same person who was sweating all my salts and water out in the morning, I do remember. But if you remind that to my fingers now, they will give you the stare of a lifetime, because, I..my dear folks..am frozen.

I am doing my electives in Psychology, ey. The good old electives..I have been obsessing about them for more than three months and finally I am here. And what stories I have to tell…

But for now, I have the tale of the Iceland. It is pretty cold inside the hospital. And I have always had a bad circulation, I go numb at the slightest of breeze. I spend half of my summers without switching the fan on. And here I am, typing away in the library, my nose minutes from falling into my lap ; red and raw. My feet screaming and cursing my open shoes and my legs threatening to desert me any moment.

The rational thing is to get out, get hopping or just go out of the premises into the grounds, road, open fire…I dunno, but I am way too lazy to walk that far. So I got out and sat in-front of the nearest window, pressing my palms against the tinted glass. It feels warm, toasty and nice. Comforting and tranquil.  I think Imma stay here for a while.

~Cheers

 

 
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Posted by on July 8, 2015 in Incidents

 

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Standing Still

against the wind

I wonder how stubborn and rubbery some of us are. How truly incorrigible. Unbreakable, infinite. History comes and goes, time and again, repeating itself, punishing us for the same mistakes over and over and we still stand there. Tall as ever, been hit so many times but still alive; breathing, smiling, laughing.

It’s that permanent stage of deja vu. That ‘been there, done that’ situation that makes it impossible to savour a moment of peace or pain. How many times have you been in and out of a hospital, lugging around with your loved ones, putting on a brave face. How many times have you stood besides them and known that they were not gonna make it but you still hope that some miracle would save them, make them young again and take all the disease away from them. How many times have you stood in-front of the mirror, praying the same thing for yourself.

Well, I am in a waiting room myself. Again. Praying for another loved one, one that actually gave birth to me. Praying she makes it. Praying some miracle would come and suck all the pain and anger from her. Make her young again. Praying I had someone right now to sit besides, even silently so. Just to know someone is there. I don’t wanna hold hands, nor do I wish for a shoulder to lean on. I have no one to do so either, so that takes care of it.

And when she dies, and I’m hit again. I know I’d still be here. Alive. And I’ll laugh and smile and breathe too. And you’ll never know just what I’ve been through. Just like now.

 

 
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Posted by on June 26, 2015 in Balderdash Thoughts, Incidents

 

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Hello Summers!

I got up on the wrong side of the bed today.

And the summer has just begun

 

summers-

 
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Posted by on June 23, 2015 in Few words to say

 

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I’m A Jigsaw

jigsaw with missing pieces

I am not a whole person, I am a jigsaw. A puzzle put together by so many. Authors, singers, thinkers, torturers, actors, liars, lovers. I am not one, but a collage made with bits and pieces of the bad and the best. I am not one man, nor am one woman. Nor one kid, nor one adult. No thought of mine is original, it’s borrowed by those who thought it before me, nor are the words I use, the feelings I have. All taken, founded; never created. Pull on a string and I unravel into a million shades, a tightly wound ball of multi-colour wool with tangled knots and fraying edges.

I am a jigsaw, with pieces missing. I am not one person. Nor do I pretend to be.

 

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The Android Post

I’m sitting in my class right now, bored out of my skull, finding new blogs to read on the android app, which ate two of my posts on the tab last evening as they wouldn’t get posted and pushed me into fits of rage.

Anyways

I seldom miss the “good old days” for I believe future is always better than the past and it is stupid to talk about *getting my childhood back* and the associated crap. Better be wiser if not happier

But there is one thing I do miss, my tiny social circle full of people I really was impressed of and relished spending time with. And those were the times Facebook and WordPress were a hell of fun. And I actually *wasted time* there.

Then we all got busy and grew up and left =/ me included. I became one hell of an introvert again, borderlining into severe misanthropy. And here I am. Once again

Well. No complaints though. Whatever happens, happens. There comes a serenity in acceptance of one’s true nature. Still, it’s a big world. You’re free to be whoever you wish to be

…Though I wouldn’t change you even a little bit

Sayonara =)

 
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Posted by on May 23, 2015 in Balderdash Thoughts

 

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Que sera sera..

hair in air

Sometimes I feel I am way too old to be whining about friends. The moment I start my brain back-flips as the same thoughts hit me and it feels so tiring to go round and round the same circle. I literally feel a bolus of vomit stuck in my gut and one in my head. Just wanting..out

Same exact people, acting in the same juvenile fashion. If I stay with them, I feel nauseated. If they ignore me, I feel angry and left out; when I am with them, I simply cannot wait to get away. And the cycle goes on and on until my brain starts to hurt and I give up. And I crash. And then something happens, and I am back on the same road.

And as far as I remember, this is exactly how things have been with every friend I have ever been with. I like them, then I hate them, then I like them. Sometimes all of their faces blend together when I look back. My personality brings out the exact same pattern in their behaviour. They are always there but they can’t never really get to know me. And why the hell would they try? Anne stuck around, she is like..my soul sister. But I went through hell to get to a point where her presence or absence doesn’t hurt me. She stays, I am happy (so happy), she leaves, I barely look. It’s comfortable between us. Because, comfortable distance always works for me. And it also has to do with the fact that she has the most tolerable and amazing personality. Ever heard, nay dreamed, of that breathtaking beauty, those cool brilliant brains and that gentle understanding soul in one person? Well that’s her.

My only concern is the strangulating effect of these interactions. I don’t want to be crippled by my own emotions. I don’t want my decisions to be dictated by how I feel about a particular matter. I call these my *out-of-body experiences*, when I look at a person as a whole. Not how they affect me, but how they actually are.

It’s a pretty nice feeling, actually. But to get to a point where one day their existence will have no affect on me in entire sense of the word, I have yet a very, very long and tortuous path to walk.

Till then. Que sera sera..

queserasera

Que sera sera (what will be, will be)

 

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