Synapses don’t really change after the 20’s, ey

Cold hands

The cold bit through my fingers as the freezing water slapped over my hands in the morning. You could hear me swear from the ground floor. Boy I was sleepy this morning. As I shoved my toothpaste and brush and soap back to its place I had this weird feeling swoop through me for an instant. Strange.

Went college, had a lousy simple day, everything was off. I couldn’t get a decent history from a patient and had to ask a friend to help me through it and cover for me. I don’t do that. Came back at night. Everything felt off. As if the lights were a little dim, traffic was a little less or bus was a little full. I don’t know

Walking back I just wanted to feel something. A little less numb, a little less bitter, a little more young and a lot more real. Nothing is wrong. Things could not be any better but it felt fake and cowardly. To go along the times just so you can breathe easily and live for a while. I wanted something to penetrate my mind. Come on. Give me an inspiration. Gimme a sign

And lo. It happened. I watched a movie I should’ve seen at least 4 years ago. I would’ve understood it, the sign came way too late and now I just talked myself through it. It’s all okay. Just because life’s gets edgy we don’t have to be the way we become. Sometimes the roads we are made to choose aren’t exactly that great, what we thought was fate might have just been an illusion. Yes, this road is gonna lead somewhere too.. but I so hope it’s worth all the falls.

Because some illusions are

Love. Haibar

Leaf flying

Thoughts and a Scare

Another day, full of horrors went down. Went to the store bought a HUGE DIARY for myself. Well spent 750 rupees. That is about I dunno.. 9 dollars? But it has a good amount of bulk in it and I can write my capillaries out. Brown. Heavy. But beautiful. Finally I’ll go back to my journal, given that blogging era ticks to an end.

I was thinking, what to put on the first page. My first diary had:

This is my letter to the world,
That never wrote to me,– 
The simple news that Nature told, 
With tender majesty. 
Her message is committed 
To hands I cannot see; 
For love of her, sweet countrymen,
Judge tenderly of me!

~Emily Dickinson

And that was 2006. And my last (fifth diary) had

Yeah I’m a Zombie, aint nobody perfect

Now I think I’lll choose something frost again.. my fourth diary had the poem:

Now close all the windows..

““““““““““`

Now to the scary part that made me jump out of my body

I might not get into the hostel of the college so far away from my hometown. It’s killing me deep in. I’m tired already of the problems cropping up from the unknown. Now this

Oh my brain screams