Just a shout out

Here’s a lame post to tell all those assholes out there who spent a lifetime bringing me down…

Suck it, you sorry bunch of pathetic losers.

I am imagining myself flying towards my fortress in the sky, soaring up..light and un-tethered. I see myself reach there, folding my wings back, looking down upon the world dotted beneath.  This is a profound feeling that needs to be expressed, inked and tattooed.

I have spent..a lifetime trying to fit in places, with all sorts of people. I have given up countless times. Tried to tell myself that maybe I wasn’t meant to have people. High school, college, med school..it felt like the same story repeating itself. All cliche, yada yada yada. But look, all those things I wanted all my life..got handed to me in 3-6 months. I found my niche. I found my friends. I found love. I found everything I had been yearning till now. The other day I saw my old friends from med school and I wished I could stop them and tell them that no matter how long I would’ve tried, they would’ve never accepted me as their own. They tried too. I know. They tried to include me, they tried to give a damn..but our frequencies never truly matched. You can’t force someone to love you, to care for you. And I thought I’d never find it. Acceptance and love.

And I did. I am happy. I conquered my demons. And while life continues to throw fresh hell my way every other hour..I know I am complete in myself to handle them. I will find a way.

Libby, Alyssa, Florence, Margo, Hector, William and James.

I wish I could make ya’ll know..how much your company meant/means to me.

And Libby.

My love.

You are the sweetest, most beautiful being on earth.

Get married already.

Despo.

:D

Ode to Idiots

This post is full of shameless self praise and big-headedness,with a score of judgement on every living soul I have met. Those who take offense easy,
You’ve been warned.

people people

I am creature of impulse, not of calculation. There was once a time I regretted it, but now I don’t. When I was very young I used to think everyone around me had a better understanding of life, that they knew things I would never understand; because they had wholesome families, they lived in big houses and they drove in cars while I came from a broken home and had to travel for hours in a smelly van to get to my school.That somehow their brains were sharper than mine and their thinking much clearer and open. And by this I placed some sort of an invisible responsibility on them. That they were ‘supposed’ to give a crap about my existence and they were ‘supposed’ to understand what I was going through. There in was the birth of my resentment and deep dissatisfaction.

And school went on, and college went on. I got into med school. Same problem. I would ‘expect’ them to understand. I would ‘expect’ them to care. I would resent them if they didn’t. And most often, they didn’t. (why would they? Duh). And I always thought that it was the same thing, that I just didn’t knew any better. I made mistakes because I was lacking the typical upbringing they had.

Boy, was I wrong.

Because, man, are people dumb, deaf and blind!

They walk around as if they are the only human beings on earth, I s them talking such bullcrap that it made my eyes water with anger. Oh, I had an anger phase too. But then, I started to really look at them, really see what their patterns were and that’s when I saw a whole new kind of…dumb.

I am not an advocate of selflessness and the delusion of altruism. I was, but I no longer am. I think thinking and caring about others is a wonderful deed. It brings me great happiness too. But the idea of sacrifice is way too distorted and overrated to be held that high. I would never want my pleasure to be the cause to someone else’s pain (Ayn Rand would put it differently), but I digress.

So, I saw the very friends of mine making the same mistakes over and over. I saw them running from confrontation, keeping things in their hearts, building resentments, taking the wrong way to deal with a situation that could be dealt with so straightforwardly, lying, hiding, hurting, hating, crying, fighting their many problems, some letting the grief bury them, some putting a brave face all the time, loving those who hurt them, hurting those who had been there for them for an eternity.

They all turned out to be..so normal.

There was nothing special or different about them. They knew nothing better. Their privileges had not given them an understanding of someone else’s lacking (?). They would give the same advice I read in a magazine or watched in a movie. Their problems weren’t that different. They said or did nothing that I hadn’t seen or done before. They were just people, lost in their own worlds, trying to make it out alive. People. Just People. Ordinary. Beautiful. Tragic…people…

They didn’t know any better then, they don’t know any better now. I lost all my resentment the day I understood that. Before, I tried to be good because that was what I was taught. Because that was what I was ‘supposed’ to do.

Now I do it because I know that I know better

Try me.

hands-with-plant save

“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?

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)

It’s just the strangest thing, I’ve seen your face somewhere…

poker face

I am tired to my bones running into the same kind of people every day and every night. Wherever I turn, I see the same faces, same pointless drivel flowing from their lips and it makes my stomach turn. I see them reading the same worthless books, quoting the same quotes, wearing the same expressions and saying the same things. And this afternoon I wanted to jump from the bus

Lord I don’t know where to turn to. I am going to be buried in work soon and the very idea of the workload is getting me into fits of panic..but I’ll get through it, like I always have. Whether this is the actual issue or whether something else is going on inside me.. I do not know. But the very idea of the plain brain washed puppets I live amongst.. it just makes me angry. I always have believed everyone is different, unique, that they all have their own wars to fight, own battles to win and plenty of fears to conquer..but give me something now. I have never called people around me any names. Never judged them, never expected anything, never really saw them. But when I try.. I don’t like what I see..

It has become so repetitive that it enrages the hell out of me. Same deceits, same devotion. same ideals, same rationalizations. This city that city. All the shows saying marriage stinks and divorce is inevitable, all the books saying religion is a false cover for horrors we bind ourselves in, parents demanding respect, teachers claiming it as their right, patients cursing doctors, doctors cursing patients, same menu in the hostel mess for four years, riding the same bus, looking at the same people..loving and cheating and hating and lying…

I’ve taken breaks. From God, from friends, from books, from tv, from internet..once, twice..so many times. They all return and they all make me toss my lunch. Give me something ! Give me something that’ll make me turn towards you and see your face and know that I haven’t seen you before, in all those crowds and in all those cities. Show me something I haven’t seen before, tell me something I haven’t heard yet. Amaze me. Make me fall in love. Make me coil in hatred.

Do something..

tired sticky note

 

(Title: ‘Do You Know Me by John Mayer)

30th November (III)

I like testing people. I do it all the time. Everyday. Every other moment. Sometimes its obvious. Sometimes it’s subtle. Sometimes I get them to fail, no matter what. My test, My rules. It’s a crazy world up in my head.

Why ramble on into a huge story of what happened or what didn’t? It was such a long while ago. It was a good day, I was born. Dad Mom Sis were happy. They still are. I too am a lot happier. Crap goes on, I deal with it, Crap comes back, I hit it. People get crap in them, I get a blow. First I used to help them out of it.. now I pretty much shove it in their faces and leave.

Happy birthday to me, Happy birthday to me B-)

Happy birthay to me

Again, at the crossroads

teddy blanket

So last night I am all wrapped up in my bed, it’s about 10 o’clock and I am reading a book. Someone passes by my room with a characteristic winter *ttttttttttt* of the teeth and I switch the hand holding my kindle and let the poor thing warm while the other hand take its toll. Man it’s getting cold and all my warm clothes are home. All I have is a lousy sweater and a shawl that I begged my mom to send me via courier. It’s cold here than at home but nah, will my mom listen? Plus I am not gonna visit home till December, so yeah, it’s cold =_=

Next thing I know I am hit by a big bout of cough. Oh right I forgot about it, so I get up and take a big gulp of the cough syrup in my roommate’s drawer and fall back on my bed. Boy Anne has a buckload of medicine. I am not a pill-popping person but I took cough syrup because she is a very light sleeper, just like me and one slight movement at night we both just sit up straight, unless, of course, that night when we both were down with a really bad cough and got high on cough syrup. We slept the entire next day with people banging at our door thinking we were dead. What a fun day =D

So I come back my bed in near the window, wrap myself up again and start reading again. I don’t know how I feel at the moment, I just can’t explain it, It’s like all them feelings creeping up like the warmth from your quilt to the back of your neck, it’s friday. Everyone is with everyone and I am with my book and by God it feels so great. There is one point in your life, that one thing in your life, that one part you know is YOU, it’s yours, it’s who you are and when your life changes , you choose a direction at the crossroads but somewhere far ahead comes a part of that road the air is as warm and the sun is as bright and the ground is as soft as the day you made the decision to change. It’s that point your whole life revolves around, that point you will remember every time you face a change of path. Deja vu. You can’t go back, you don’t want to go back. But that moment you can feel a familiar voice in the back of your head, your own voice lost in the dirt so long ago.

I’ll stick around here a while. Who knows, Someone who chose a different path from that same point crosses this way too. Those who separate at one  crossroads…will always meet at another

Sayonara =)

crossroads

Aye to my thoughts

Sitting and looking

Giving up writing is like giving up breathing. And there are times when you don’t want to breathe at all. But you can’t just stop breathing if you want to.. and I can’t stop writing even if that one remote part of me might ever want to. Even if there is no one to read out there (I doubt that though =D)

It’s beautiful. That light in the heart. That tiny bubble of hope that is all yellow…That keeps you company in the loneliest of hours, keeps you going in the darkest of times. I feel that. I feel that tentative glow and I feel the smile coming on to my lips without forcing it for the sake of others. And the genuine laughter so afraid..what if the next moment I do something and this bubble of happiness bursts.. plunging me back into the venom that compels me to shun everyone who dares come closer. I don’t know. Bathed in this light my heart feels like a tiny fluttering sparrow.

But you know what..it’s just the tricks of time. Up and down and down and up.. I have been down for a while.. A little up won’t hurt…

See ya =)

fluttering heart

If only killing a certain people was legal, I would’ve been dead a long time ago

I don’t even know whether I’ll be able to finish typing this up or not. Every bone and every muscle of my body is aching aching aching like GAH

Yeah that’s right. I got a room on the second floor and the shifting left me half dead

Every year it is the same damm thing until my 3rd or 4th year of medicine when they finally give us room worth living

Walking up and down the stairs have left me half dead and I today I gave the worst viva of my LIFE.

I hate everything right now

E-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g believe me.

need-coffee

I AM HAPPY AND THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO !!!

Oye

Oh boy am I a great person

oh hell I am great

You got that straight

Nobody gets so hurt all day and when the night comes and her best friend irons her hair and she irritates the hell out of her. You smile, I smile, we all laugh. What more is there to worry about?

You know what. That moment when you look back at yourself and see all you have been doing and you feel absolutely ridiculous, I wanna look back now. Not after ten twenty thirty years, being a shrivelled old lady and sighing as I lay somewhere on some hospital bed with tubes coming out of me and wires going in. Why do I have to be that person who is just so closed from all sides. I know it is not so much in my power, I cannot break my barriers even myself. I cannot even approach them. I can’t. It starts to feel..vulnerable.. naked even.

SO what happened. I was broken like fifty times today. It was a bad day. Everyone I met spit poison. SO I got all senti.. and I tried talking to someone I thought might help me out but.. well.. when one stops caring it all falls apart. Why talk when there are no words to use ey? My heart is as pure as it will be. I love once. I love forever. Or I leave

SO I will open up. I will be better. I will be a better person. I will cut all that tends to pollute my mind and muddle my heart. I will TALK about things I AM. With MY friends. And I WILL BE HAPPY WHILE I CAN

AYE