Remember me...

If it is one thing I hate, it is being proven wrong. Apparently, everything that I am is proving wrong, and the next person to tell me I am smart, or intelligent, will never know what hit them. I have no interest in being lied to, and it is detrimental to my health to lose my temper so often. Or so they say.

I hate being mocked, and if I am lied to, I am being mocked, so think twice. It is so pathetic to sit every day and watch everyone leaving you behind. There is very little sense in "resting while I can" when that rest is riddled with self deprecating thoughts and suicidal tendencies. There is only so much a person can handle, and after years and years of bearing down on disappointments and all the dreams that ever were, you just find it very tempting to test how little effort it takes to throw yourself in front of a speeding train. I don't trust buses.

I hate being the butt end of The Creator's Jokes, and I hate it even more when he keeps me alive every day, in good health, only to mentally torture me, with those so called "tests" of his. They are supposed to make me stronger, are they? I am a believer in God and all things Great, but honestly, yeah, this is a Great Joke. I'm just not laughing.

In what way did I wrong anyone so much that I am being so driven to insanity. It takes just one look at the pity or charity people show toward you, something you cannot miss, mind you, to take one more step towards finding the perfect way to off yourself. When you know the blame does not lie with you, or as I would like to believe, it takes so much of patience to bear the hurt and the regret you feel when one more non-productive day goes on by, and you are still as useless as ever.

I swear, by the Creator himself, if I am rejected in one more interview, I can safely throw myself from a high cliff, or get hired as a maid, because, obviously, "It is not my fault, it's just luck, you see" and I say, go to hell. I'm just a waste of a lot of space, I should think.

As screwed up as this seems, I feel like a complete incompetent imbecilic idiotic insufferable ticked-off moron. I have no freaking clue what is wrong, and frankly at this point of time, it is moot point, because even a retarded high school drop out can find a better job than me. How does that feel? You have no freaking clue.

I want to believe it when people tell me, something better is around the corner, but after months of being turned down at every bloody company's interview, you run out of "something better" to be waiting around the corner. And to top it all, I can't even freaking cook, to live out the rest of my days indebted to some one who felt pity on me to pay off my loans for me. Talk about mental health, I'll stop at mental.

Everyone is a smart-ass about it, as if they went through it personally and then lived to tell the tale. Did you feel so pathetic as well? Did you wake up every morning and wonder why you did? Did you look at your bank balance and just forgo that thing you wanted to buy, but now you just can't? Have you tried to smile when you really feel like slitting your wrists so you could just go numb? Have you ever felt like taking a ticket to nowhere and find a job earning 6 bucks an hour just so that you could feel more among what you are truly worth? Have you ever felt the Need to die??

There are so many things threatening to break right now, and one of them is just my barrier of self reserve, that last thread between sanity and the insane need to laugh hysterically and blow my head off. There are no more words to show exactly how screwed up my life is. You know you are freaking useless when even the god damn kid rummaging through garbage seems more happy than you are right now.

Frustrated? If you didn't get the point by now, you have it all. Ignorance.

Wishes in the night...

There is a weight in her chest
That threatens to choke her
And she tries to stop those tears
That threaten to spill over.
There are so many many times she hopes
That the night will be so binding
But each morning she wakes up
Blinking against the sunlight blinding.
She goes through the hours weary
Of the night that is approaching
To embrace the darkness so calm
Before the fear within turns consuming.
There are so many dreams she sees
And lives through them smiling
For only in our dreams are we free
Before the daylight threatens, unending.

Sreedevi.

Viva La, just a little..

There is a lot of fun in visiting some place, especially when you don't have to worry about any of the things that make trips a nightmare. The tickets, the hotel, the sights, in general: the planning aspect. I hate planning for trips. It takes a lot of time and a whole load more of patience. I would rather have my nose stuck in a book or more likely, in a web page.

When you don't have to worry about those little gremlins, it is such a breeze, a wonderful experience. In fact, I am such a worry-master, I worry about every little thing, and if something is less than perfect, I go ballistic. It is impossible for me to enjoy a trip if I have to arrange it. What's more, I hate to worry about the expenses. I don't mind spending the dollar if it is worth it, but I fret that I may be spending unwisely, and I do tend to get prudish and picky and all uptight; translation: I spend extravagantly, given the opportunity, not worrying about the consequences. Which is a big, big, big problem, considering the fact that I am just a student and temporarily unemployed.

This trip to Seattle was a dream. One day of high-strung nerves and the other one and a half days of uninterrupted bliss. The cute hotel concierges didn't do any harm either. Say, what is the ladies' counterparts of "Bird-watching"? I've been rather curious. The one day of high strung nerves was the jet-lag of coast-to-coast travel and also another major factor that I won't quite mention here. Let's just get to the un-interrupted bliss right now. God knows it sounds much more intriguing.

Well the trip was paid for, the food was paid for, the luxury hotel was paid for. What more would one simple, single woman ask for? I can think of a couple of things, let's not go into details, shall we? I had a great Luxury suite to myself, all the food I could want to eat, and classy service. I had missed the feeling of having someone waiting on you for so long. Being a student in a grad school on your own money, can really make you a plebian. Would have been different if I had Mr.Lodge, Mr.Rich or Mr.Gates as a possible parent, but hey, a student can dream, right? That don't demand a down payment, unlike your surly land owner, but then again...

So I have this wonderful feather bed that I couldn't appreciate very well because of the nerves first and then because of the fact that my body was so used to using a sleeping bag as my bed that it kind of actually complained about too much comfort! Imagine that! And I thought I'd never see the day when luxury didn't click well with me. Then again, here I am, writing about it. Anyway, I digress. I loved the room and most of all I loved the services that came with the room and also the very fact that it was like a wonderful isolation that I had not had for a couple of years now. Just me, my solitude and my wonderful hi-tech gadgets. JOY!

I relaxed, completed the task I came here for and then relaxed again. Trust me, this was well deserved comfort. And did I use it well. I feel absolutely revitalized and rejuvenated and some happy heart-things happened, and there was some not so pleasant issues, but overall I give a "O" for Outstanding. I think I'm in love with luxury all over again. Oh, the pain! The separation of him from me. I think I shall cry. Of course I feel sorrow. I don't miss people this much!

The view was great, the temperature was perfect, a little too much sun for my tastes, but I think it is a part of Seattle's charm. It reminds me of this beautiful and harmonious union of technology, a fast and slow pace; a great ambience. I think I am taken with Seattle. And ironically I was sleepless for the duration of my stay here. Ha Ha.

I loved the rolling green lawns with children playing and old people relaxing and it seems so bloody cliche, but it reminded me of a sort of yawning hills and valley scene. Why do I sound like that Andrews woman, who couldn't shut up about the hills?

The whole thing was like a great care package, chicken soup for the soul, a big kiss on my aching mind. I think it's all better now. I find myself smiling like a right idiot. I think I figured out the reason that cute concierge is looking at me in a slightly alarmed manner. Who can blame him? I am in the lobby, hammering away at the keyboard, smiling weirdly and practically set up shop here. I think I want to come to this city. I think I have found the place I want to replace NY with. I think I finally fit somewhere. In a place that has something for my every mood without having me empty my wallet and over-drawing on my Visa, and where the people don't think smiling at a stranger (and having that smile returned) is something along the lines of "If you see something, say something." I love NY, I really do, but sometimes you would want to smile at someone and want that smile back, for no specific reason, or you would want to chat up a stranger and not have them threaten you with several thousand volts of electricity. Okay, maybe I exaggerated that a bit, but you get the idea. A place where you don't hear children spewing obscenities instead of nursery rhymes, a place where people talk politely and at the decibel required, a place where I can walk the streets or take a cab after dark and not worry about having anything untoward happen. I think I found a place where looking over your shoulder is something not necessary while you walk.

A place where rules are followed and people respect pedestrians, and offer help if you need it, and where I won't be scared to lift my eyes and look around, lest I invoke someone's wrath for being able to see. It is like a breath of fresh air before you return to the filthy docks, and you know that you will treasure it, and long for it, and want it to never end. But too soon it does. And you hope that you will have that chance, maybe for keeps.

It's a pity. I love the city of New York. It is my home, and I love it like my own. She took me in and gave me a place to stay, and have a little bit of her when I am there. Too bad that most people respect her so little, and it is always the people. The people who are only beautiful on the outside more often than on the inside.

Love? Hardly!

There are only so many things that render some things irreparably broken.Sorrow is one of them. There are so many many ways this one word can leave a person flailing and helpless, with no want of rescue. It is a double edged knife. Either it cuts down or moulds into steel, the former not necessarily a bad thing and the latter not necessarily a good outcome.

A broken heart is sometimes a good thing. The pain sharpens the reality of the situation and helps you really 'see' things, as they actually are. I know it sounds cold and heartless to say that, but it has taught many a young person the difference between reality and fantasy. It can show that the hottest girl in school has space to rent in that pretty head of hers, or prove that that quarterback everyone drools over is really as full of air as that foolball he kicks around. It also gives you a certain amount of sadistic pleasure when you put his head in place of the football.

Before you think that I'm writing this because this personally applies to me, have this image of me sneering and shaking my head.

That said, why do we even try? I suppose a dire need to "not be alone" qualifies as a half-witted reason to precariously balance that overly lost soul of ours on the line and hope no train comes that way. I think you should stop reading those trashy romance novels and start off philosophy.
At least a meagre intellect is better than an air-headed hopelessly romantic damsel not-so-in-distress. Please wait till I put my head between my knees to get rid of the nausea rising in my throat. Utterly pathetic.

I have no clue about what some people think, especially when they go all fluttery eyed and goffy grinned over some one they are eyeing. Does it not clearly show of uncontrolled minds? I have lost controll several times, but only in anger I assure you. I think that gives me immunity against
the hoardes of cupid crippled mortals around. I hope and pray that it is not air bourne. Or that my Hara Kiri sword is ready when I have the symptoms. Hey! I'm only human. I can be affected. Maybe.

Much to my chagrin, they downplay something as pure as love into an item. Something you can pick up from the nearest romance trash cinema /novel. They go around singing like insane canaries and smiling like they just bought out the top ten of the Fortune 500. Ghastly behaviour such as an inappropriate amount of cheerfulness and a little too much spring in their step, should be made offences punishable by law.

I'm sure you can as much deduce my feelings on the appropriate behaviour for those who claim to be in love with someone. I always believe that love is love, no matter what the source. Now can I smirk at my obvious superiority and control?

There she goes

There is an inexplicable sadness in her eyes
And a depth to her heart, she herself denies
Does she know that she is not alone?
In this path that she has chosen so clearly
Does she know you'll humor her,
And manage to say what would entertain a few?
She walks along a clear path to oblivion
Hiding in the shadows of her fears and tears
Hoping that the sun will not find her
She fears those demons who haunt her at day
And let her be in the dark, only she can see
She holds hands with a man she created inside
Her mind, for he smiles for her only
He cries no tears and dries hers with kisses
For she was alone far too long.
No one heard her heart break and tear away
All that she held so close to it
But they saw her smile, and walked on by
Even though the shadows under her eyes
Darkened and the light in her eyes dimmed.
Is she not worth a second glance?
Or has everyone forgotten how to look and really see?
Whatever the reason, it is too late
As she walks away, holding the hand of a man
Who has never known of existance, or of life.

Sreedevi.

In the Rain

Cool trails on my forehead , my neck
Trailing down, leaving a burn in their wake
Open eyes, staring out into the distance
As if time were of the consequence
As if the rising sun would never dawn
A deep breath and the feeling returns
A crystal that would shatter on touch
Rests in the line of vision of the eye
The world seen as a blur, but magnified
Somehow seems so much more purified
Till a blink and the miracle is gone
Replaced with the cold truth, cold draught
Swirls around and leaves in it's wake
A moment lost, a feeling returned
A trip back into the reality of this world.

Sreedevi.

Full Circle

It take very little for me to slip into my “Think too much” state of mind. And when I do, it can do no good for the ones around me. In the place I lived before, the ones I shared the apartment with usually steered clear of me. Why? Simple. They thought I was intimidating, and plain scary. Suited me fine, but after a while, you have to stop discussing things with yourself, for fear of slipping into an irrevocable insanity.

I decided that this mission of mine would be solitary. So I took that glass of beverage, something that was harsh on my throat, but easy on my mind, and stood in the kitchen, mulling things over. Unfortunately, my tongue sometimes refuses to listen to my logic and has to take control. The next unsuspecting victim, came for dinner but was forced to stay for drynesses. I would not know what caused the tentative “Is everything alright?” from her; whether it was the impossibility of ignoring another person standing almost trance-like in the same room, or plain concern at my almost stone-like expression, I'll never know. It certainly sparked off the half hour tirade of mine, well, not tirade exactly, more of low rambling. With that poor girl at the wrong end of the proverbial stick.

It basically revolved on my observation on how everything, and I mean everything, is basically some distorted version of a full circle. Nothing is just a straight line. In fact, by geometric definition, a straight line can be considered a part of the circumference of a circle of infinite radius. What I mean to say is that: think about it. Everything in the world of humankind is dependent on some other object, creating a nightmare of inter-dependencies. Devil's Snare. And we are stuck within it. No matter what we do, we somehow end up following some convention, some rule, some damn yellow brick road that never ends, all the time thinking we will reach the magical land of Oz.

We create rules, we created society, and then we allow our creations to govern us. It is only less gruesome than what happens if AI breaks it's controllers. Somehow it brings to mind the proud smiles of parents while looking over their new born. So many dreams in those smiles. So much of hope to control their lives. The start planning from even before conception. Planning to follow society's self indulgence. Whatever for?

About thirty minutes into the more or less one-sided conversation, I managed to snap out of it and the girl all but left skid marks. Honestly! I should re-consider insanity.