We love, and argue, and make up, constantly. We wrangle over the stupidest things, and fight to stay together after we fight. We’re petty and foolish and gloriously alive. I’ve come to see that to live with the constant promise of approaching death is to come fully alive. Anyway, that’s my choice. And I chose it.

"We look before and after,
...And pine for what is not:
Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought"
-P.B.Shelley

Must have been some kinda super-glue. That would explain all the blood. And the searing pain.

I spent 12 years in South Point; and only 2 years in BSS. But why is it that I always tear up when I see school pics of BSS and not SPHS? Weird!
Rejection hurts, acceptance heals.

The biggest epiphanies hit you on the toilet seat. If only I could remember all of them later on.

I realised something rather disturbing about myself. I can never have peace. Wherever, whenever, and no matter whomever I am with, it’s always gonna be fucked up. And I’m always gonna be this paranoid, insecure and restless.

Oh, but I have fun, don’t I?

;P

Karma is a real bitch. But then so am I!
;)

I get the most ridiculous insights at the most inappropriate times. Like with that whole autowala incident in Bangalore; there I was, in the middle of nowhere, at the crack of dawn, trying to fight off this brute who was double my weight and triple my size, and the first thought that crosses my mind is “I hope my slippers don’t break again. That would be so inconvenient”

??!!

Can anyone be their own kryptonite?

So asks this newly-hooked Superman-geek (courtesy: Smallville). Clark Kent would always run when he came in close proximity of any kryptonite stuff. He was smart. That’s why he got to be Superman I guess!

How do you step away from something so tempting, that you almost can feel the evil radiating out of it? You know that it’s gonna cause you so much misery for a moment’s worth of bliss, but still you go there. But that momentary bliss! It’s almost like the peaking ecstasy of an addict, even while the drug is slowly eating away his inside. And like the hardcore self-destructive “love”-junkie that I am, I admit that I am more than willing to sacrifice my entire life’s worth of peaceful existence for this momentary rush.

That’s why I am my own kryptonite.

The Voices In My Head

L’s voice:

Someday I just wanna wake up in the morning, look at myself in the mirror and see perfection. Not the straight limp hair, not the love handles here and there, not the weird way my eyes seem to blink back from behind those thick lenses.

Someday I wanna have a writing spree. I wanna have a deluge of thoughts invading my mind and flowing out from my fingertips; and keep on writing from early dawn to past bedtime.

Someday I wanna step outside and not give a damn about others. I mean seriously not care; and not pull off that “i-actually-care-but-I’m-gonna-pretend-that-i-don’t-so-that-I-seem-cooler-to-you-so-that-you’ll-admire/lust/covet/love-me” attitude.

Someday i just wanna belong.

V’s voice:

Someday i wanna be the most beautiful creature there is on the planet, and invoke adoration bordering on obsession in the whole wide world. Kinda like in that movie “Perfume”.

Someday i wanna be the smartest person alive. Or dead. And all the treasures in the world be mine. Just mine; no sharing.

Someday i wanna rule the world.

T’s voice:

Someday i just wanna break from you two.

Someday i just wanna know what i actually want.

Someday i just want peace.

Suppose you are writing a test paper. You do the best that you could. But after coming back and checking and rechecking your answers with more reliable sources you realise that you have made a thousand mistakes, and are, well and proper, screwed. Can you still expect to get good scores in that particular paper? No. Is it even remotely justifiable to hope so? No. The maximum you can hope to do is not commit those mistakes in the next paper. But as for now, this paper of yours is beyond help.

All our ventures are somewhat like that. Be it on a personal level or on the professional front. Once you make a mistake, the most prudent thing to do is to start afresh. Because, let’s face it, no matter how hard you try, it will never be the way it used to be. Things will be far from perfect. And what’s the point of life, if it’s not perfect.

Time has slowed down to an absolute full-stop. There is nothing for me to engage myself in and keep my mind off you. Come back soonL. I’m pining away here. Surbhi calls me love-sick. I guess I am. You know I can’t deal being in another long-distance again; even for 2 weeks. Shit, 2 more weeks. How am I gonna survive.

This is total bull-crap!

1^st of January and I still haven’t gotten my hands on a diary. Stupid, stupid South Indian village this isL. I love it nevertheless. This place has made me; taken so much, given so much more; broken my heart, ripped apart the beautiful self-image had of me; but still I crave for it from thousands of miles away. This is my home now.

This wouldn’t last of course. In a couple of years I’ll move on. Be somewhere else. And that would be my home then. It would feel just like it does now, but still different. That new place will break me, un-make me, re-make me again and again. And no matter how much I resent it in the beginning, it will eventually win me over. But then it would lose me too. There’s another thing that this place has shown me about myself. I can never belong. At least not for a prolonged period of time. Not to a place, not to an object, not to an idea, and definitely not to a person.