7 in the morning, I go for a walk alone and suddenly BAM. I'm running. Because Running, you see, is apparently the Love of my Life.Such delicate realisations have a way of surfacing at times when you are least expecting an epiphany- in unsuitable clothes, floaters that have made you trip countless number of times during their lifespan, with a phone you JUST CANNOT drop/break/ruin if you had to see the light of another such day, and very aware of the fact that the comfort of the hug you'd been hoping to collapse into at the end of the track is, well, a mirage.

Well at least the phone is sort of alive.
But God, I need to go running more often.

The only real problem about being me is that if you are me, you can't see my face when I'm talking and as a result miss out on half the fun.

hoho.

Brain-dead.

Exactly that, and there's NOTHING I can blame it on except for the lack of the kind of interaction that I'd like with the kind of people that are capable of it, or maybe its just that I haven't done laundry in a while. Everything stinks. I do like just lying on a slanting terrace, its scales rubbing at the back of my being just enough to not let me get complacent,and there's enough sky too, for once. But that's all it becomes, lying down, there is no scope for extrapolating the way I like to, I'm not hunting for flying couches in my head anymore.

In other news,I touched a dog and I liked it.

Also, fixed my guitar with a little help from KC. The stings are rusting but there's music again. If I ever buy a car, it will be big and blue. I'll notice the children on the streets when I drive past, I'll notice the children on the streets.

Sitting at the end of the divider makes me want to sing Irish drinking songs, and- well who could've guessed- drink.

Yawn.

I'm not doing rantblog anymore, nor facebook, nor girlfriends, and there's no boyfriend to do anyway so lets just make this the dumping ground again.

 I've realised that I suck balls at studio shoots (heh, everything I say has a way of sounding wrong). I'm probably just terrible at working in controlled conditions is all because its the same with anything I do, any form of framework given and you can trust me to be a ball of yarn gone loose around it. Spontaneous photography is probably the best I can do, and thats just sad yknow.

(Spontaneously shot when on pot)

Well, not too sad I guess, unless you take the professional aspect into account, but no wait there is no professional aspect to my existence anyway so HURRAY!
Anyway, so I'm whiny about everything now, but suicidal would be a more appropriate state of mind, given the circumstances.If only I was a clearer thinker. I could swear that just about a minute ago I'd thought of some issue I really need to address (could be anything from a shoelace fiasco to major highschool drama thing) but I can't, for the life of me, remember anything within 2450 nautical miles of it because its out in the sea of complete wipe-out. The only good thing to have happened to me in the recent past has been Adobe InDesign, it made me a little less distressed about graphic design and a future I don't really believe exists.Yes, a software.
And i don't have it.
:/

To TOP IT ALL,my Uncle is visiting India for a month, for the first time with all four of his pretty, pretty Portuguese kids and I'm stuck in PUNE and I've never met ANY of them save the eldest boy and its just really awful that the only time I've ever wanted to see anyone thats even close to being related to me, well, I cant.

Well if you feel like sending across a hug, a new phone instead would be nice.

My life is a pathetic little circus again, and this time there's just dying elephants and accident prone gymnasts. I have in effect turned into a completely obsessive eccentric, and its not all comic anymore.

In other news, I just realised a few things about myself.Like I don't really have preferences for this particular TYPE of ...things. Like, Irish men or dark chocolate (God, I LOVE dark chocolate but will gobble with the same amount of delectation when there's milk chocolates in question).But I am extremely choosy about particular cases all the same.

Also, I dig the idea of killing people so much that I seem to have recurring dreams about it, complete with all the chasing and screaming and murderous facial expressions etc. All that's missing is the concluding spurt of blood, my brain, well what do I say. It's a smart little bugger that knows its limits. But the following mornings have always been wrought with insane urges to really really stuff some knives into some chests and tummies and faces (try stabbing faces with multiple cutting instruments in your dreams, kiddos. epic gore, that) and pull out intestines and wrap them around some bleeding, mutilated faces. This is a morning for such lighthearted foolery, care to join me?


Blog hopping may be fun, but getting carried away and blog HUNTING and reading those which really, really should be made off limits for you (like say your Maths teacher's fantasy blog, which is just an example VERY distant from the cause of my woes at the moment) can make you want to do the things described in the earlier paragraph to yourself. I wish I had something to take my mind off these things but well, I'm at home. I do these things to get away from the oppressive home environment in the first place, and I just happened to be seeking comfort in the wrong places of late.

Plus, there's ulcers in my MOUTH that take the cake. : X

On a slightly cheerier note, I am rediscovering my love for Roald Dahl and Black n White movies and ruining artwork (well at least I do START with something now, and instead of the abandoning, I'm doing the ruining which has got to be a learning experience in some distant world I do not seem to be in myself). I'm growing a little too tired of bitterness flowing to my fingertips so I think I should stop typing immediately, so, so long and thanks for all the intestines.

Banal update in verse.

tonight is just a dull fullmoon
i hated this day's afternoon
all i have done this dismal day
is watch this psychotic cartoon.

around midday i realised
my tummy's grown a bit in size
but it also seemed a little blue
and made me let out painful cries.

i then grew calmer by twilight
'cause i liked it when cinnamon died
and when my mom said 'TELLS A TAIL!'
i felt heaven and earth collide.

dinner was such a sad affair
it made me pull out half my hair
so strode off i, without a word
without a bite, without a care.

and if you swear you'll clap this time
and you agree to wind my chime
i'll promise, and try sticking to
the promise to not ever rhyme.

Because im just stating facts.

Last time i did, (facts about another person that were allegedly stated 'unpleasantly'on the blog; about Devika and the whole Kelsey,dA, plagiarism deal, im really not doing this thinking of how to be politically correct right now, so please let me be unrefined and blunt,with names and everything else, this is my personal space for god's sake) it created trouble for people, im told. gave my blog undue publicity too, most of the feeds would show traffic only to that post, and triggered bitter words from anonymous people, sad personal shit and im losing my patience beating about the bush, but yeah, so thing is, im not sorry i wrote that post.

I'm not sorry i brought it to light (whatever it was, intentional or unintentional), for the bad punctuation in the post, for being politically incorrect if i might've been, i was doing what i thought i was ought to, and im sure i wasn't thinking too wrongly, but i have taken off that post.

Why, i could've removed it and kept quiet about it, but i didn't want to, because i wanted to be able to explain this to myself, at least. The reason i did it is because i was told( very straightforwardly, and the lack of a cushion of any amount of  hearsay made it come as a major surprise, by the way) that it not only still seriously affects her own, but also her family's peace of mind.The comments lala. Look, i have nothing personal against you. you cheated, i told. I catch anyone at it i tell because im a bigmouth like that. I didnt mean to brew hatred or open a common forum to gather around and bitch, for whatever reason, none of my concern. And THAT seemed to be the only purpose that the blogpost had been serving after the initial 'OMG-REALLY!'s and i didnt think having it around was doing anyone any good, so why not flush out the hate. I did what might do someone less harm, so there, i did what i did.

And with all due respect dudes(themdudes) ,im not taking this one down, not even for the lawyers.
(All in good humour, hohoho? Thank you.)

I'm going to tell you one thing I know for certain about myself- allergic or not, I will always hate vodka. Today is very hot like every other day now but today I had to walk to college and stay there for 2 goddamned hours just to get very worked up about every other person's attitude towards the upcoming jury AND one permission letter. Too hot for people so I asked them to not meet me, this one time that I had any at all. Ho Ho. What is with me and the persistent non existence of my social life. Its too hot even for question marks and right punctuation,and I really dont need your answers.So then I came back to my room, danced to Belly Dancer and imagined to have no self respect at all so I can make myself type this out. Right now I cannot make myself carry on with life with the same conviction as always (conviction you will never find reflected in my attitude, no, its all in my head, its the secret life of Malter Witty) because I cant have my poison, nobody is willing to go score. What does it mean to have a resolution and stick to it man, I will never know.

Besides that, this is good. Tomorrow im going to visit an orphanage, as if the disabled home I keep visiting wasnt fucking with my brain enough. I'm hoping it gets done with without me feeling a strange obligation to go back there, I hope that place is a corporate bitchhole, I hope I come back with something to crib about, ready with words and jabs at whatever i see and not wrapped in thick layers of silence. What i really want to do is be a bitch, go clubbing and break an ankle. But no the whole point of this rant is, vodka sucks, baba chai.

i've been a drooling, irritable, sick and difficult 5 year old lately.or like im nursing withdrawal symptoms like a clutz. nautanki, bilkul. if i were to say something to my mom now, i'd prolly say KIMMIN CHAI.kimmin debe,kimmin? ekta duto teente paanchta chota? and i think i'd just scream at everything else. i dont have kimmins, keede kha gaye mere kimmins. kinta paisa waste. kitne kimmins waste. kimmins are kishmishes for the 5yearoldme. kimmins are raisins and i want raisins and mango juice for 7 bucks. or 5. these things disappear exactly when you need them to be around and suddenly, you go from being Clementine to Joel. pulling at memories where you can hide what you needed to let go of a minute back. but im not running fast enough, all this sickness and tiny 5 yearold legs and no raisins what to do kya karoon

WHY

do i do this every time? i fall, i embarrass myself, i turn my life a into a huger lump of shit each time but i don't learn. trouble is, i have my fun while i do it. the fun element shouldn't exist, or i'll never stop.somebody do something to the universe to make it recognise my extreme desperation and conspire ALONG with me, and not AGAINST me.

doom,re.

roommate thought she heard me bitching about her over the phone. not so good. has dirty lil secrets of mine. very very scary.
plus, parents got yelled at by me ohnose. i should stop PMSing when im not PMSing.
books to read books to read!
jesus, minima lefty makes this place look retarded.

and here this goes into the list of official rantblogs i happen to be using. cant seem to frame non ranty sentences anymore. dhoor.

i probably hate your face and you know it.

some people gloat about the wrong things, and they never realize what comes as a consequence of their actions and what, as a direct result of their godawfully stark shallowness, and thus like to exaggerate situations just so they can feel something occupying their vacuous fucking minds, even if its a hugeass ball of pointlessly stretched strips of facts which otherwise would not make any difference in anybody's life whatsoever. oh but no, they need an issue or no, they need to prove SOMEBODY ELSE has some issue which would make they look like some monumentally coolass punk, because oh, they rule at dealing with the other random issuebag, right? bingo!

oh hey, and that one paragraph typed just turned me into one of those people, damn. but it just came off the top of my head and honestly, i typed it just because some very random thing reminded me of this other random thing which isnt even remotely important, only it just helped me get started with the ranting again, much to your agony im sure, poor reader.
today i had the worst trip ever. it was like time was composed of some widely spaced moments during which i was barely in touch with my consciousness which ONLY ever gave me one sensation- as if i had spun around the whole motherfucking universe and then landed on the floor (which seemed to be resting on the tip of a needle very eager to stab people) after a good million years. then of course, there was somebody in the room, there was the ghost of the red blotches from our lost lives, there was also, the scariest (or perhaps the only scary) powercut i've ever had to survive. and holy mother of Ruffles Lay's, i eat like the craziest chut on planet earth,no kidding.i finished three bigpacks of chips and a pack of biscuits and then ate a heavy dinner and before all this i had downed a snacker, a zinger burger and pepsi and another pack of chips.and my phone died so i wasnt able to call anybody i wanted to call, and that was painful and i felt like panicing but also felt too slow to do so.

well, atleast I wasnt the one tripping on Twilight.
-dies laughing at whoever it concerns-
and i switched on all the lights too, so gimme some credit here. and i FUCKING ROLLED THOSE BOMBS, YES. XD they took me ages and these ones happened to be the suckiest i've ever rolled, really, but i still feel like a fucking star.

ok, so college is off for another 10 days, thanks to my favourite animals in the world. everybody happens to either have gone back home or gone to bombay or something, but im staying, because shayo has come to pune for exactly 10 days herself.today we went to KFC and tomorrow i plan to shoplift, drown in likker, meet lucy and pet her multicoloured babboon. also, imagine me shouting curses at random rickshawalas because they need to go fuck themselves and nobody ever tells them that.yknow, i've stopped wearing the bandage on my injured foot, and i still whine about the pain. im always afraid of people stepping on it and i suddenly seem to have a fixation for imagining people crying apologetically at my funeral after having killed me of the excruciating pain they caused me when they accidentally jumped on my foot. it will be hilarious if i can pull off a screamfulofcurses from up there while they mourn. clearly, i need sleep.and maybe more food. and somebody who'd wash my bandages.

what the fuck.

weird life i have. can mostly be passed off as non existent, yet i seem to have no time for ANYTHING these days. not even sleeping. and i always complain about how bored i am, or how deep in shit i happen to be, but that's all there is to it. i thought i'd finally write a long and descriptive blogpost about everything that's been going on but i feel too goddammed sleepy, so ill pass.oh so this one girl in the hostel has an iball graphic tablet which is what i used to make that image in the beginning of the post oh hell do i suck or what. ok so what else.lets see. i bought two jholas yesterday and busted a lot of money. i've been eating too much and gaining weight. the college canteen seems to be quite alright now. i now own purple eyeliners. two ya.i actually dozed off while typing the last sentence, which, as you mustve noticed, had just two words.

ok so guess what. ill update later.

I have Box windows

in my room, at our house here in Kolkata. They allow me to get locked out enough to be cut out from the rest of the house and still stay conveniently sheltered from the raging unfamiliarity that most of the city has been shoving at my face ever since I came back. It gets a little more stark with every moment i spend here, every second beyond the stretch of time i was to be allowed originally.

There is this person i might have spoken of once, here on the blog. Dadu, an aged neighbour person who loves me and mom and is concerned about us beyond comprehension.In the way old folks often get so attached to random people that it is sort of disconcerting. When he saw me first after i returned, he broke into tears because i had tanned, i couldn't retain my colour nor the supposed 'jella' that my face, or whatever, was once home to. He pitied me. He said i shouldn't go back, i should stay home- that's what's best for me.

Fact is, now no matter which city im in, I somehow only ever find myself somewhere that gives me the feel of being in those hanging box windows, this weirdass, confined territory I've got all for myself.Some place that can never be home but wont even allow me to put myself out there.

Talk about the washerman's bitch.

Update.

i dont know why i keep doing this.

Pune.
i'm leaving on the 26th. suddenly every one of my acquaintances is moving to Pune and im discovering more and more people i know shifting there. somehow, it unsettles me more than anything. what i'm used to is leaving everything behind every 2/3/4 years, starting afresh whether i like it or not. i'm used to landing in a city where i know not a soul, and nobody cares about my new haircut and none of them are gonna turn at me and go.. OH she's preparing for a change.
well, im not.

anyway, so the last mistake i made in the city was wallrush. i would elaborate but there isnt much to it. its just that it was a bad time and everyone, including me, has been so busy soon after it ended that the stuff hasnt got sorted out yet and its really no body's fault.
the other mistakes im gonna make here are prolly the JU entrances. im not sitting for them. my mom is going berserk over it. but i cant sit for them.

i'm prolly gonna get to meet JD and Falak once i get to Pune. that's the plan, atleast.
one very important thing before i leave is- i HAVE to erase all the internet history shitpoothings because dad might land on my blog AND start reading it on a regular basis when im gone andhell, disastrophe that would be. i may also change the url but that'll take a while.because i cant get creative with urls now.and i dont have much to say in this post because not much has been going on except me feeling suicidal and at the peak of uncreativity. people who have had to get back to me about certain things have failed and i decide to give up already. im just sueing one of the.
then there's shopping that i havnt done and dont care about. then there's the lack of comfort im gonna have to deal with, a few days hence, but with it comes the lack of control so its all good.

im losing my patience with everything suddenly and that's the last thing i need now. what i need is to find the Led Zeppelin discography that has managed to go missing. i have EVERYTHING but led zepp. i mean i'd lost DT and Jethro and some other shit to a dead DVD but i cannot FIND the ledzepp DVD at all.when i ask the cupboards for help, they dont help.

good thing that's happened is that im at better terms with Sam than i've been in the past year and it's nice to have her back and swear at her every time she drinks beer without me. we've never really got drunk together.

that's the only thing i remember. oh, apart from this. last night i had the weirdest dream and P was in it. i cannot believe it because my father drank ALL the vodka P offered me.please psychoanalyze.this woman i know was changing in his room and i have no idea why im talking about this.

i think i might have a thing for abusive romance but im not very sure about anything anymore.

i dont like mosquito nets.

The Finger!

yes, I know this picture has neither the attitude, nor the finger, NOR the idea usually associated with the phrase in the title, but hey. :D This is the real shit, doods.
so this morning i was sleeping as usual and then i WOKE UP (*JAAGO RE JAAGO RE JAGOOOOOOOO REE*) and went to vote. longest queue in the area- ours. very poopy i felt. very irritated with dad acting like a hyperactive, retarded first time voter who's never noticed his daughter's bad posture before and couldn't think of a better time or place to exclaim 'HEY I'M SURE YOU'RE NOT EVEN SURE WHAT YOUR ADDRESS IS,KID!' or to imitate the timid looking family speaking in bangaal bhasha at the TOP of his voice in ALL CAPS ( so now you know why im incapable of behaving myself and am very adept at embarrassing you in public if you're with me,its all in the genes).
so that, and then the long wait of approximately eleventy hours, and finally i'm standing right before the EVM going *OMG WTF ALL NAMES IN BENGALI SJDFJSGDFJ* but taking less than a nanosecond to settle down, set off the beep and jump out of the enclosed area grinning like a 3 year old who's just taken over the chocolate factory.i hung around until both my parents were done, the grin getting wider with the slow drying of the purpleshit on my finger.it used to be a black spot thing they used to put, no? why suddenly switch to blueypurpleyink?

i dont mind, it goes well with the state the other fingernails were/are in xD

met an old couple from our building while we were still at the booth, the woman going OMG SHE TOO?I'VE ALWAYS THOUGHT OF HER AS THE KID WITH THE MOMMY (those exact words in bengali, no exaggeration), andyesthankssomuch, i showed her the finger alright.

the walk back home was long and pleasant and thrilling because i don't know why. i have no idea,OK? i cant even say anything poetic here, so bah. but on the way, i came across this group of kids that grinned at me in a way that spelled- comeletsplay Ring-a Ring-a roses (yes you are welcome to deduce that i suffer from dyslexia and it is manifested not only in my general inability to spell correctly, but also to interpret what spells what) and i, for no reason, pulled an evil face and showed them the finger. *mwahahahaha*
their faces changed to reflect a somewhat unreadable expression and i walked off with a smirk
characteristic of a primary school bully.

And to think i had just exercised any of my rights as an Adult for the first holy time since i turned 18, this isnt too much of a glaring irony now, is it?

EDIT: for people who like making assumptions based on one tiny sentence in a blog post (happened just {and boy, was it funny} , this comes therefore), i CAN read Bengali, and that sentence was only a representation of the ONLY thing that crossed my mind when i went in there.because i was expecting English and because Bengali was my 3rd language in school and i wasn't prepared for it and it takes my brain some time to process it and im slow, ok? im very slow. because i have to type out stupid excuses for no reason because some people just LOOVE to pull unsuspecting people up by the collar and slap them leftandright because their tshirts say stuff in english and not in their mothertongue- i will say FUCK you.

Letters from Bengaluru.

Bits From Letter no. 1:


(EDIT: THESE, MY FRIEND, ARE BITS FROM THE LETTER SHRAVANTHI WROTE TO ME. PLIS FORGIVE THE EARLIER CONFUSION)

originally, this was going to be a wordy post about the only thing in my life so far which really makes me inexplicably happy, and is something i can never, not even for a moment, wish to change anything about- shravanthi's letters.but then i go, ohfuck words, and think of putting up selected snippets from all her letters which wont get me slaughtered for making them public, but then my patience with the scanner fizzles out so now this is just going to be a post which wont do justice to what imbues me with this weird energy which makes my mind get off its ass and do a little HYPER BOOGIE.which is because i am lazy and in general, a bastard.the last letter came in a purple envelope, by the way. that killed me. i was sleeping when it reached the house and if you knew me, you'd know its imPOSSIBLE to wake me up unless you've been wrestling with my corpse for the past hour, but all mom had to do is say SHRAVANTHI MS and i JUMPED out of the bed while im not sure how i could even HEAR her talk, really ( but i'm pretty sure that's all she said, i asked later,yeah).
the only trouble is, after this, im sure no goddamned creature that writes to me, nomatterhowkickass,can ever match up to the standards she's set, as far as overall awesomeness is concerned.i kid you not. if there's anything in the world i can afford to be snooty about, its having the most ridiculously amazing penpalfriendperson.
*insert sufficiently retarded looking hyper-grinny smiley*

p.s.somebody kill me for not replying to blogpostcomments whenever i do manage to get any.
p.p.s.please attend my funeral which will follow my next visit to the dentist which is on wednesday mmmk.

Why you waitin over there let's roll (8)

yes ok dudes, I'm over all the gloominessity (bipolarness, among other things,should've been blamed fo it). i got done with a 10 page long (every corner of each page is scribbled in, btw) letter to shravanthi the day before, and it's been posted. yes I'm sort of a maniac when it comes to letters. these arnt even tiny pages, they're the exact opposite. yes i consider this as BRAGGING about something which doesn't even remotely affect the political situation of the country, neither does it do any good to your neighbour's cat's faulty diet, nor ANYTHING else, actually, but cant be helped.i consider this no mean feat, inflicting 10 pages of epic emo-ness/retardedness /nonsensicallity on a fellow human being,so brag i shall. also, one of the pages had a doodle titled:I wish I was a gayboy with flowers in my hair. it was a portrait of a gayboy which looked marginally like James Franco (AAA x 648) with curly hair (as in Milk, that lovely, lovely movie).I AM sad I didnt upload it, actually, and its not even been scanned. ohwell x(

by the by,i have stopped generalising about cats. yes cats, which i had always hated (apart from the black variety) until i visited ishika's place and *cough* fell in lo.. er, liking with one.it was the definition of ultimate gayness, and it was SUCH a cute poser. it'd stay put for 70 minutes and let us take its pictures from whichever angle we please, without freaking out and charging at us like a retarded dino.

yes i mean, just LOOK at that?! it makes me feel like a good picturetaker also. this doesnt happen often.

DONT POKE MAI NOZE!

look at itz toothz :D moarpictures in my orkut album, i dont wanna be repetitivehere.

yes so now, imma admit something (you might consider embarrassing, because i hate hip-hop/RnB in general usually and this might make me a hypocrite etc etc.) aboutmyself.

I LOVEd(?) BLUE *!*

THE BAND yes. they had been off my mind for over two years, but shayo just helped me revive my love for them, going.. Top floor with no disturbin'.. in the middle of a gtalk convo.

the rest of the lyrics flowed from me. Bubblin is THE ULTIMATE SEX.

AND i used to have the hugest crush on..

LEE RYAN. YES.

what? HE'S CUTE, OK? yes one might advice me to stop if i wish to save my reputation from fluidly running downthedrain, but since ihadnone in the first place, i dont run the risk of defacement. AND i have Westlife on my iPod (uptown girl only). AND the C21 version of One Night In Bangkok. holy carp. fuck me, man.

Got a body like whoa (like whoa)
Why you waitin over there let's roll
Take it all the way to the top floor
And let's get Bubblin' girl, Bubblin' girl

xD

While im waiting to cross over, while im ready to go

i feel like im dead and waiting to cross over to the otherside but im stuck in a void.
i can imitate a wall and suck at that too. i can imitate your clothes and i'll prolly be worse at it than anything else in the world.today somebody told me im boring and being this dull is a turn off and thats nice, they like it. like dude haha. whenever im sitting im either peeling skin off my arms or off my soles. my favorite hobby is to give myself red bleeding lips from all the skin-peeling. when i drop my phone it makes me happy and i look down with a smile but it never breaks. i need to step out of myself.

Prayer before Death(?)

today, with seven new clouds
in the sky of a wednesday,
i look first at the mirror
and then i look your way

i see the skies are stagnant
underneath the heavy weight
of empty grief accumulating
on the wrong side of wind breaks

today, with drooping treetops
today with still no rain,
like everyday- a promise
i must compulsively break

so with my geography book dying
psycho lying in my wait,
i pray - DO ME A FAVOUR GOD
AND HELP ME CONCENTRATE.

-
yes we ALL need somone to blame. agnosticity be damned.
do you see what this does to me? it makes me RHYME. that's something i havnt done in a year and a half.
or something.
BLAH.IN CASE I HAVNT MENTIONED IT, IM BLOODY DOOMED AND AM DOING ABSOLUTELY *NOTHING* TO BETTER THE SITUATION.

(still listening to badonkadonkey. \bornruffians/ INDIE FOREVAR!)