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

Poof…and You’re Gone

 

dissolving away

It’s a day like any other day, well not any other day..it’s a Sunday like any other Sunday. It’s raining, for summers seem to have gone on a vacation at the very last second. I am the same person, wrapped in a warm wrap I bought at a sale. Nothing seems to have changed, it never usually does.

But I am going to disappear.

It’s not something new, either. I have a tendency to evaporate every few years. What happens is, either I have too much of a rotten feeling and my mind just totally gives up. Something happens, I refuse to fall, I try again. Drag myself through mud and muck, but try again. Meet three people who screw me over, blame the first two but then the third time think that maybe it’s me. People are human too, you gotta give them a chance. Everybody has innate goodness and virtue in them. Maybe I am just that dispensable.. And try again. Meet new people..make the same mistakes; try again. Become totally dipped in and disgusted of all the clichés in the world..and bam

I give up.

There’s a limit, no? There’s a limit to give and not want to have anything in return. There’s a limit to totally forget about your ego and let a friend walk all over you the moment a chance presents itself. There’s a limit to let history repeat itself. Again, and again. and again. There’s got to be an end to all this tomfoolery, to all this brain numbing madness and annihilating ignorance. Tell me there will be an end to this.

My entire life, I grew up with a single line in my head; I am invisible. And then came many people who told me I was not, and an abominable hope got seeded in my head which led to a lifelong struggle to not be invisible.

 

But then…everybody lies.
I had forgotten that part.

 

And one talks, and talks and talks. And it is of no use. You make no real connection. You can see it in their eyes that they don’t get you. There’s that dullness I can pick up from a million miles and a part of me screams to shut up. They don’t get it. And out from ignorance, hatred is born. It is so palpable. That aura of uneasiness.

I wish I had a shred in me that cared for the world I live in, the charm my friends find in the everyday life I share with them or I wish I could care less for the life they totally exclude me from. I wish, they mattered less to me and I, a little more to them.

So here’s what I do. I melt, I vanish, I evaporate in front of my very eyes. I involute. You won’t see a difference, whatsoever. But then you don’t see me, anyhow.

What a pity, to dream of a life of dignity and be caught in an epitome of mediocre melodrama. How public, like a frog, to tell one’s name…the livelong day, to an admiring bog..

Prayer for tonight

wishing on a start by a window

I have a very heavy heart today. Right now, as I sit by my window and the wind blows through my incredibly wet hair, I feel a burden weighing me down. What do I tell you? I have no words you haven’t heard before.

 

Sometimes, the only way to move forward is to kill that part of you, remove the part so heavy. What a sad move. Little by little you cut away the gangrenous parts and what remains at the end…well I dread to think about it. The hard, callous shell of a person you used to be. How sad, how cliche.

The moon that usually shines right though my window is not around today. It is all dark and I am lying awake, hoping the wind would blow the load away, before another part of me dies, and dies again. Hoping I wouldn’t have to age for one night, wouldn’t have to disintegrate for one day.

So I close my eyes, remembering myself and everyone as I know right now. And I pray, with eyes tightly shut , that tomorrow as the sun shines onto me, I remain the same as I am today.

 
Amen

“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?

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.

 

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)

Better left unsaid, better left unfelt

up in the air

I spent an hour writing..everything. Pouring my anger into my laptop and editing it and constructing all those sentences and blah blah blah blah and a second before I was going to hit send.. I just stopped. Not today. Not now.

Have you ever felt so consumed with anger and hatred and total helplessness that your hands tremble and your eyes blur? The bad part is..that like before..it doesn’t pass ! It stays ! Boring deep into you and threatening to reach the core and blast you to pieces, or it stays like a burning ulcer which you know will remain for a long time

And the night comes and you sleep, and when you wake up in the morning..it’s still not gone. That taste of venom and acid is still in your mouth..

It’s a first for me. The other day my friend said that my anger lasted twenty minutes, that when I wake up, I forget the very name of the person I had a quarrel with. And it is true. But this morning when I woke up, it didn’t feel that way. I wanted to hurt and claw at someone. Just so the fire would go. But it stayed, the entire morning, the entire noon and part of the evening

And then I saw the face of the person I was angry at. And then I saw that face for good ten minutes in my head..and suddenly it all went away. The burn, the fire. It just isn’t worth it. Normally I give up at these things because I do not have the stamina nor the time to hold grudges or fight with people anymore. But this time I let a thing go because I had lost all the feelings of friendship I ever had, all the concern from my heart. Why do we feel hurt? Because we care. Indifference is the worse form of hatred for me. I’d rather fight all day with a friend than feel nothing at all. And how sad it is ! But we all have it coming to us. There is a limit to which a person can be pushed. Once, twice, thrice..so many times

And now as I read again the thing I was going to post earlier, I burst out laughing. Oh come on ! Grow up! Life’s too short to waste on people who don’t matter and things that don’t count ! We all know that yet we insist on indulging in all the crap in the world. *groan*

I have a research paper to write, a room to clean, a mother to call, a friend to bark on, a book to read, a party to attend and a big exam to prepare for.

Backstabbers don’t get a share in my life for today

And as for tomorrow..

Oye vey..

flying with happiness

What’s your Room No. ?

row of windows

Why is it that moving crowds make me feel so horribly crippled and so devastatingly stranded? Stay there for a minute or two and see them all moving on, while you are waiting for that one thing. Standing, invisible and unseen amongst everyone you know. Low self-esteem? Nah, sometimes it’s just a simple observation

So I do what I went there for, inside the small room as my name is called and mumble my room number. It’s the Allotment Day. We get new rooms as the final year of our college leaves and we have a crack at better rooms. I mumble the same number I did last year. A room full of sunshine, whenever sun comes . A room alight with the moon, whenever moon returns (la di da). A room so perfect in its imperfections that the very notion of changing it made me close my eyes and send out a little prayer, if you’re up there, Oh God, of all the things I have lost, don’t take this away from me.

As I came out, I glanced around, bade a friend or two farewell and climbed up those stairs again. I got what I wanted, then why does my heart sting so much? This happens every year this day. Friends fight, people turn away, girls jump each others throat, blah blah blah..there is so much hostility in the air that I barely recognize anything and anyone. And why do I feel sad at the fact that my ‘friend’ moved away. This happens every year ! Why does it have to sting every time? God ! I want to look myself in the mirror and scream.. GROW UP ALREADY

Haha, well, yea, feelings come and feelings go. Mine left a few seconds ago. We waste our life chasing the wrong people and while I say this I know I am still barking up the wrong tree. And it is also funny when I say that because I have never really chased anyone. One or two people maybe. I guess we have blown up images of ourselves in our head. Why ask people to change a part of themselves for a part of you? Why not see them as they are, not how they affect you? It takes a bigger man to accept that. And that bigger man I try and fail to be, every single day

I have hated clichés. And my hatred for them grows by the minute. I do not believe in all those morals and rituals our brain washed society preaches and has been doing to death..but it gets so hard sometimes, to separate yourself from it. I hate when hypocrisy stirs in me as I keep my mouth shut. Sometimes I wanna blurt it all out but by the time words get to my mouth..I realize…I just don’t care. Or cowardice gets the best of me. Or simple disgust does.

I don’t wanna become that person. I don’t wanna be a sociopath, I don’t wanna live with so much hostility inside that the insides turn black while the extremities go numb. I have been numb. It was horrible. Who wants to be trod upon and be hurt? No one. But I’d rather be hurt than be a corpse who sees nothing, feels nothing and leaves a stench everywhere.

La di da

la di da

“Okay, what does ‘okay mean?” “It means, okay, I hear you.”

colors-paint-splash-orange-blue-green-yellow-white-drop-black-background

I’ve had people as my friends. Few, but yes, there have been some. And I have always observed the exact same pattern with all of them, since I have been the same person and have attracted the exact same kind of people. Amazing people. Everyone was different. They were all strange and exotic in one way or the other. They all took a little something from me and left me with a little bit of them. Sometimes I don’t think I am this one person with my own thoughts or personality. It feels as if all those people made my persona and all those books fed my thoughts and imagination. Just when I think I am tired of the same thing over and over, something does actually happen.. I thought it only did so in movies and books. Lol

One thing has happened consistently all my life. I’ve never had anyone stand up for me or defend me. One might think it’s because I don’t do so either..but no..I’m a pretty aggressive and strongly opinionated person. Hell I have defended my enemies, in the literal sense of the word. But I don’t know how it feels to have someone defend you, back you up when someone isn’t your blood relative. When they have no real motive nor reason to do so, I have never known that feeling, except once. I had stopped longing for it..for as far as I can remember

And just, fifteen minutes earlier.. I had friend help me. Just for the sake of helping me. I had a friend..think of me as a person, not a frigid pile of flesh and bones.

Well. As much as I don’t want this event to go to my head, it still feels a little good. A little nice. Like holding a small chick in my hand. Have you ever held one? It’s soft and light and fragile…and so yellow

 

BABY-CHICKEN

(Title: Rainbow Rowell’s Attachments)

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)