Glug-ity Glug

My ears are ringing with the loud Dong of reality.

You came, saw and sat on the bubble... those 2 extra kgs would've been missed on any other day... except of course today.
Crawled in, lugging with you a backpack that was handed over in all its lime green glory.
It too has things which were best flung out.
Old photographs, memories of coffee, one foot after the other- all scrunched up in a ball and tossed into the grey membrane. Preserved like love letters old and an once expensive lipstick.

The shirt, a canvas one longed to paint, spray... immortalize with a touch.
Reminding me of rum with coke n' ice.. that lingering taste and slow high.
Cold nights could do little to deter...

the huge drop from expectations, ignored.

You promised... you promised me candy and that too pink.
That aftertaste was supposed to be sweet.
and now with this, you expect peace?

Plans made many :D

As always, in spite of my being an amateur pscychoanalyst, i am not quite sure if many people feel the way i do when it comes to blogging... if i really feel like i've written something exceptional or something i just happen to be a little too fond of, i hate posting more right after that.... something like that post deserves a little extra time in the sun...ironic, because i'm quite annoying about not handing out my url to friends when they begin the pestering...

the few who have found me, well thats been more because of luck (as well as my insane stupidity and ignorance)...

there are a dozen things i could (possibly will) talk about.

For starters, 31st is inching closer each day.
What does that imply?

-Time for my One-year-break-from-chocolate-to-test-will-power to FINALLY come to an end.
(clap now, HARD)
-Just 9 more days left for exams then, panic mode shall be firmly in place. (insert scared face)
-I will get some wild-dancing time with a few friends and of course, the chick-flicks will have been selected days in advance. Bless vodafone, but not too much.
-I will find a more insane way of torturing myself for another 365 days by going on some weird i-will-not-eat/do-this kick. so typical... predictable... lame. But i know i'll do it.
-I'll have 5 months left before i turn 21. *gulp*
-I will find the love of my life and turn into a mushroom at 1 am.
(okay, i may have made that up)

It'll be another year... 2009 this time. (Didnt 2008 have a better ring to it?)
and i guess it would imply .... a pause.
Yes, thats the word. a pause that will specifically say... hey you there, stop for a minute (at least slow down) and maybe... reflect.
Think of all that you've done in 12 months... think of what you would have liked to do...
ask yourself why you didnt go ahead with that... maybe even demand if it was worth it not to go after it with your heart and soul...
Think of the people who have been a part of your life... maybe even thank someone up there for some of the blessings you've been showered with (umm, for the people who remain existentialists or atheists or spiritually uninterested... you can choose to gnaw your nails at this point)....
Think of all that you could have done... the good, the healthy, the fun, the constructive and otherwise (only wanted to include positives, but feel free to mention the harmful, painful, boring...whatever works for you)
Besides, im getting tired of people saying that truth is relative...that good doesnt exist.
Sick of the nonsensical philosophical debate that EVERY intellectual wants to draw me into, just to prove a cynical point.
Well, sucks to you....for i take my resolution right now (kaal kare to aaj kar proverb like)...

I, in the year 2009, do solemnly swear to continue to Believe in Goodness regardless of the repeated attempts of people/things/incidents to convince me otherwise. I refuse to be ashamed of the fact that something like faith is perceived as old-fashioned and refuse to conform to all those who bleat rebellious notions for the sake of rebellion. I refuse to let go of who i am, innately and promise to not lower my standards (in all possible ways). I know that pessimism and cynicism will take over on cloudy days but i promise and resolve that regardless of how hard it is, i will not let that hopeful child die inside of me... the kid who does not believe in Santa but remains convinced that it-will-all-be-okay-in-the-end... that someone IS watching out to ensure

the same... the kid who feels blessed... and very grateful.

Now writing that felt good. :)

Thank you for reading.

(but not if you skipped bits!) :P

white meadows, needed

Does everyone get an 'off' vibe or is that just restricted to the more insane of the lot?
Just about recently, this 'off' vibe has been going haywire to the point that its not really that much of a joke anymore. Crazy mistrust issues and 'argh' producing feelings. Terrible to kind of know what you think isn't real and not be able to back it with the facts.

Dislikes heavy
murky brown,
taste so bitter
its rarely found...

saying anything more would be on the excessive side.
When a hand is diseased, what does one do?
cut it off completely and salvage whatever is left of the gaping red wound?
or try over years of therapy to cure the infection that is desperate to claw its way to the body as a whole?...

now, i am no medical student... duh... but it sounds as though the safer option would be the former... but i dont know about the saner aspect of it, keeping the importance of the hand in mind.... probably in a real case...where mangled remains of a hand will be tangible... important people in clever-people glasses would scratch their heads with yellow pencils or blue gel pens, weigh the pros and cons of both... analyse the disease and its probability of getting cured by X miracle drug and then... then carefully suggest treatment....

'Lets wait for a few months Ms. S, it may turn out that the hand may not need to be cut after all. Its just these few dicey months that we have to get through.'and pat Ms S on the back and move on. Literally and mentally to another person, another case, another back to pat and hope to hand out. (sigh, the irony of it all)

(and now i note a new arrival)

Me- Dear Sensation-In-Stomach
we havent met for simply ages!
How have things been? wherever it is that you have been...

Sensation-In-Stomach- oh this and that have kept me busy..(evasive)

Me- Months ago you turned up in the oddest way, but then it meant something else and now it remains sheer paranoia. or thats what you lead me to believe. its not the physical disintegration of my 20 year old body, i know. its not that which you come to alert me of (or is it?... that paranoia talking again... apologies)...

Sensation-in-Stomach- maybe that its time to grow up and leave what is petty aside. not swirl it around each morning in the cup of milk with the cornflakes... never really wanting to gulp it down.
so stop the swirling and either chuck the cup into the bin or well, wait for a few more uncomfortable minutes and then chuck the cup in the bin. for face it, the cup WILL be chucked in the end and by the same hands which cradle it now.

Me- you, Sensation-In-Stomach, what is the meaning of this?
you invading my life in this unseemly fashion (i argue prudishly i know)

I Think- i know what you will say before those lips begin to quiver.... i know you will say.. 'But, my dear child... it was YOUR call i paid heed to.. you needed me to wake you from the slumber before the choice is snatched away by the hands of time... don't accuse me now of jumping in unasked when you know deep in your heard.. you need my voice'...

You're my conscience (i murmur softly).... Well, bummer, no escaping that.

Sensation-In-Stomach nods wisely.

Was the arm amputated or left to heal with medicines and time?
I'm hoping the Sensation-In-Stomach will stick around long enough to help me decide.
Peace. That i want. That i need.

(Bob Dylan helps, oddly...the answer may actually be blowing in the wind) *semi-grin*
and yeah, Merry Christmas to all :)

Propriety

Hearing a song that’s completely inappropriate can sometimes lead to fascinating discoveries. While plugged in to ‘Billo Rani’ on the radio and nurturing a stomach which seemed determined to fling out all undigested food, the song struck the strangest chord. The days of the strong chivalrous knights are now officially over. Loud claims at devotion may now be the key to courting rather than any attempt to actually act on professed adoration. Simply put, today people would be a million times more likely to declare ‘Billo Rani kaho to abhi jaan de doon’ but, as P-S wryly put it, when the dogs come barking then few would stick around to fight till death as earlier claimed.

*rolls eyes*

Then why the tall claims? Surely statements aren’t best served chilled in the largest beer mug possible. A reasonably calculated guess would blame history and tradition which have always dictated that men are supposed to fight for their women’s love. Climb unconquerable mountains, fight ogres, find missing Pomeranians and the rest of the heroic acts… all to win the admiration of the damsel as she sits safe in her glass tower chewing her nails or rather, painting them.

Time (and feminism) have managed to prove this concept a little on the obsolete side with women shrugging off the restrictive furs that bind them to cushioned seats and demanding a piece of the world or action in kick-ass terms. But does this automatically mean that the whole will-be-there-for-thou inclination of the male will now be pushed out of the window? In one of those memorable heart-to-heart chats we girls are prone to indulging in, Sal divulged that her idea of the perfect mate (in Wodehouse terminology) would be someone who would offer to carry her luggage not because he believed her incapable of lugging around 10 odd kgs, but because he wanted to and thought no less of her for letting him do that. I remember thinking ‘mirror-image’ instantly and we bonded for good, post talk. :)

However, these expectation prove a lil taxing for the average soul who would rather cut the bulls*it and simply ask ‘D’yu want me to carry the goddamn bags or not?’
The days of the conventional chivalrous deeds are gone, so does it make one a chauvinist to open doors and pull out chairs? Sal and I seem to think not, but the deal being if the intent is right. As far as the more grand of deeds go, they’re pretty much galloping away on the once awaited white horse and prepare ourselves we must, to bid them a tearful goodbye and remember to hold on tight to our hankies, which if fall… will no longer be swooped up by men in knee length stockings. Small mercies or nostalgia worthy, you pick.

(so It is Written.)

Turnips Pumpkins and Effin no holiday spirit, so sue me..not!

Reasons to not float around in the pond of gloom

-its grey, and that is NOT a flattering shade.
-everything feels twice as heavy...arms ...legs... the sofa you gotta lug around the house. Everything.
-the world becomes a mixture of senseless TV watching and cramming any kind of edible item into the mouth.. sandwiches, purple funflips, carrots, papaya. Anything.
-the books become impossible to focus on and even the appearance of the datesheet leads only to a mild panic attack. Not-a-good-sign.
-All the miracles of efficient management and old computer replacement with fab new one go by unappreciated. Ungrateful brattiness surfaces. Ugh.
-Words signifyin 'blah-ness' become part of the good-morning routine. A frown, snort, dissatisfied shrug... you name it and each gesture is more blah-bleh-bloo than the next. major Downer.
-Perfume, soup, books, people, writing randomly... nothing seems to matter....
-Christmas feels like a farce and Dario Fo (sob).. even Dario Fo fails!!!...Dario Fo!!!!!!!!!!!
-XYZ number of missed calls and endless texts do nothing except give more exercise to the annoyed eyebrows and numb fingers.
-All interest has been lost and a dull ache remains.

Life su*ks this time of year.
That is it, i'm going off funflips. Total ban.
Need water. Maybe more fruits. God, i hate all this.

Spice-less-ly yours.
Growl...

The Butterfly Effect

It is the strangest thing when talking about something refuses to help, yet writing ... just writing it out feels like its almost sucked out of you. The power of the pen, or now.. the keyboard. *insert comical face*

So i finally got around to watching 'The Butterfly Effect'... hands down my favourite movie barring none. Beyond fantastic direction and acting, the plot seemed to appeal to the more irrational side of the brain.. what a relief! Thank God that there is STILL a (teeny tiny) market out there for the people who don't want everything to be plausible and possible and probably and well... just a scientific possibility. Gives me hope in the oddest way.

Okay, if this was a 'real' review what would i ideally say?

The movie doesn't really start with a bang per se but the clever insertion of the Chaos Theory at the very beginning helps lend a tone and pace. Simply put, a flapping of the wings of a butterfly can cause a tornado halfway across the world.. Yes, it sounds fantastic but that seems to be the crux of the tale. As Jeeves would put it to Bertie.. one must never confuse the improbable with the impossible..or was it Psmith?
Ashton Kutcher does a remarkable job and is able to move away from the pretty-boy image post The 70's Show. The various twists in the movie keep one gripped, enough to ignore the time as we pray (or was it just me?) for a 'happy ending'. It does satisfy that need in a way but poignant moments are plenty with the slow realization-that regardless of how good ones intent is, each trivial (and not so) action has a consequence on somebody elses life too. We're all connected and there can be no real rectification of the past... If the power was alive to change the long dead and gone moments... then too, sacrifices would need to be made to achieve what can be the semblance of joy. Less complex to watch, more so to mull over. A must see for people who claim to have good taste, however... side-effect... it may creep you out just a little bit if you're the nervous kind.

So not really a 'real' review.. no critical input at all actually! Just biased analysis. Perfect. :)

You and I

us

look at that
now, spend some time
an year or two
maybe, a decade..mine.

stare on
now walk faster
ignore the signs
for after all
time matters not
when it remains mine

you, what more to say?
eyebrows left to describe?
not even those
its all been defined
put in boxes, categorized
each curve
followed with a sensitive tip
each word
dissected, to emotion fit
each action
Aha. but actions have been scarce
hence, easier to analyse
poke in and out of context

A mystery it once was
the thuddin heart
and sweaty palms
cliche's come alive
from novels slim, promising delight

each scent new
realization unique
a virgin heart
fluttering to be free
little knowing, what was soon to follow
and to what such freedom would lead

jump.
there, took a plunge.
words came tumbing out
a torrent strong
passion galore

whoopsie daisy.
temptation much
to spill ones guts.
This is life
Yes, its a test.
We can't really cheat..
but some people
are just plain ol' lucky
and get a paper easy.

Yesh Yesh. we all know its unfair. :)

Purple Mist

"Even the bitter-est pills can be swallowed with only a mouthful of water"

Balance, they say, is something of a positive in Life. Im sure its been put more articulately but this is how i see it. What is this balance anyway? Not going over-the-top happy...giddy... joyful....and then not descending into the depths of sorrow, dismay, dejection?

Is this balance? To have your fingertips held together in a steady way... knowing only an earthquake measuring 7 on a richter scale would break the connection. Is it getting a good 8 hours of sleep at night? Eating your fruits and vegetables but avoiding the mushroom and white sauce pasta? Is this balance?

Is it balance to draw the line a safe metre away from the point-of no return... the grey area of madness... the point once toppled over, will lead to chaos. Is balance being safe?

Is being safe equated to 'good'. But of course, safe..good...positive... all cousins in the English language. Britain and American both, Even Indian English. Universal sisters in the decisive grading into category A and B. A being all that is perfectly desirable, needed...wanted....flaunted as a virtue maybe. B being, that is which remains best avoided.

It is wished by many to be stronger. In this personal, inconsequential opinion.... it is only hoped that the memory of 15th December would not fade into oblivion and the time between 2 pm and 3, etched deep into some intricate part of the brain. I have a small suspicion.. it'll help keep the events tilted toward A and sanity.

Adios'

back in the blue yellow pink

Here Kitty, look....look...now i can 'share' stuff again ... yipee.

resolution number one. no matter how bad i look in photographs, i do solemnly promise, to not untag any picture from facebook. (unless of course its a pic of v and moi forcefully snogging the cutest boy you will EVER meet and the bestest actor. aww, now if only we knew your name)

resolution number two. will ask the more capable about internet problems and not cling on to my ignorance... and FORGET that i have a laptop which can be ALSO make the net work. *slaps self lightly, im not into sadomasichism*..

three. i wont care if i spell some words incorrectly or dont know the exact pronunciation of a French or Latin phrase. sue me, so i Don't know French :)..*shrugs...pseudo sniff too*

i promise to not let things get under my skin, unless i know for a fact that they will in some way improve my .. complex..life. OR give me fabulous material to write about :D

I've had more or less a great week...i waited and waited and waited for the sun to shine .. so it didn't ...exactly. but im okay. yes Swati, I'm also gonna take full names now, so be warned. mwahahahahaha. But finally it did, in a way...watched 4 straight hours of mind-numbing TV. worked like a charm.

Chronologically speaking, well screw that. i saw some GOOD plays. there was Stephens' 'Teechers' (deliberately spelt that way, i think)... Kirori's 'Line mein Lago'... and well... these two are the ones that stuck.
the first one was flawless....effortless...and had the person vindhya wanted to snog, haha your secrets out! :P:P...well..he WAS ohsogood in the play..it was impossible to NOT want to snog him... you had to be a straight guy or REALLY asexual girl... (yes, cry all you people...cry that you missed it)..the latter ...i was watching it for the second time after disliking it in Kanpur..and this time, *CLAPS*....THAT good.... really fabulous acting...!!!! people are fantastically talented! :P yay...and no we didnt fall for any boy in that play..jeez, we're loyal to the unattainables too you know! *wink*

wow, was SO not in the wink mood and managed that! you make me feel good wordsss...you do!
been missing this... and yesh, went for about 17 family functions too.. all dolled up... yea yea, good food "*grins*...and FYI (for your information)...kashmiri guys SO taking a beating when it comes to the 'oh wow' factor.. dont judge me..my cousins were lookin for the eye-candy while i grabbed the jalebis. speaking of loving jalebis...my fav long-distance cousin is (was) in town.. managed to talk a lil to her and just enjoyed the love :)...met her only once before this but it was enough for a 'bond' :D
aww, family~! yeah so we all managed this less-dolled up lunch in Big Chill on S'day. Perfect. Bonding with sisters over pasta. Plural. Real sis too ... and then hung out with Sana and company near KFC somewhere..sigh.. life was a huge ball of sunshine :D...but yeah..what goes up must come down (too)... *sigh*..bummer at a small level but nothing that needs to be articulated in tooo much detail. Rest assured im TIRED> tired tired tired...so tired and full... full to the brim, and people are full of it too. only, i think its more garbage in their case...sue me, so im biased.

my assignment marks need a serious make-over. but how? we have a new sir. P sir. amazing. prejudiced leftist brilliant. :D i like! but in a sir-teacher way. finally somebody who gets some LIFE into the text. wake up kids...its a PERSON teaching you now :D
so what else? i'm liking college, i tend to. but now... theres somethink lurking. yeah confusion.
im just gonna cram up... forget the world and kick some butt ... whose? i dont know.
anyone who stops me from cramming up?
maybe.
Vindhyyyy stick around in delhi and make me less of a party-pooper. Please.
Who else will blackmail me into coming to KFC just to hang out?
Who'll make my lazy ass come outta the house and drag me to fantastic plays?
Who's gonna tell me to let things 'be'????
Who?
you...thats who!
yeah that rhymes. im a genius. unforseen development right.
S, i want ice-cream too...and for the same reason.

These words are my diary screaming out loud...

I want to write some honest 'is-s'.... you know, the ones on facebook....i'm never really able to spill my guts and write what i am is-ing, or whatever is the appropriate term for flopping around and thinking...being... existing!

------ is

1.thinking of chucking her phone outta the window, but it has her music ..so she won't

2.considering getting a life-change and leaving the material world to slump down next to some ice-covered mountain... but not growing a beard

3.assuming that there has to be a reason that one is born. because God can't be perverse right?

4.hoping that dinner will be yummy...

5.liking the idea of hating the world. seems fairly just and equal... also, well deserved

6.tired of feeling guilty because of her inability to miss even one day of college for theatre.

7.STILL feeling like a major ice-princess/cold hearted bitch for not being there for her dramsoc

8.considering asking some kind soul for a sandwich... but since all faith has been lost in kind souls, it's proving harder than expected

9.waiting for all the decisions to make themselves up and come to her in a clear map with size 14 font and Arial Black style.

10.demanding of life that it work out to the best of her advantage...

Whew, and they were the randomest is-ez.
I think i should go eat something and then chuck my phone in a corner till the year 2009.
and yeah, cut the TV time too.
haha. resolutions they be!

Finally ------ is missing all her friends who genuinely care and don't just pretend like they do.
Fuck third person. I miss all you people who care! i know you're busy and i am too.
Wish we had more time to just hang out and act like stray puppies let loose...or hyenas ...whatever fits the occasion. I miss you all so much! :(
It sucks to meet people who are fake and icky... sucks. i don't like!
Can't we all just gang up and shove them down a well or something?
Please. Well, at the very least don't hate me cuz i'm unable to say 'screw off' to my conscience...which is the only thing making me feel sane these days... weird, cuz i know you understand.. cuz i know you care enough to know that all this is really important to me.
That's why i miss you all. cuz, even when you wouldn't do the same thing yourself, you know and 'get' why i still have to.
Love, very much.

of sins and all

If verbosity was a sin, i would be the first in line to enter Hell.

Luckily, so far its escaped the tag.

yakety-yak not :)

So there you have it. A fact about me.
I'm a believer.
I tend to believe in goodness. Work. Loyalty. Truth.

I like to believe that people are innately good and not evil.
That under the darkest black you can think of, there lurks some light. some hope. something positive.
I remember talking about what to forgive and what not.
Repeated thumps. Repeated mistakes. Repeated lies have convinced me now.
Not that i must go away.
Not that i must pick up the phone and ask for answers.
For the truth is in the taste of the pudding and the reading of the written word.
Repeated thumps. Repeated mistakes. Repeated lies have convinced me now.
made me more sure than ever before.

I still believe in goodness. (maybe not in you though)
i still believe in trust, faith, loyalty, respect. but not necessarily taking you as the core example.
i believe there are good souls out there, maybe you're one too. but not to me you're not.
I believe you can lie, you do lie... i dont know how you live yourself. It must be disturbed sleep.
I believe its time i see you as you are.
I even believe that last night, what was said to me... thats another reason for me to believe in warmth and genuine emotions from people who matter.
I believe God took it upon his (following the Christian version of God as a 'he') shoulders to tell me last night, through someone else, that hello.... though you know people lie....attempt to break your trust... your faith...rather, there are people who will test it.... in spite of all that you're gonna discover... i think i was meant to know that its possible to move beyond it, without tears or sorrow.
I believe i've been given enough reason to still believe.
One con cannot possibly outweigh the multiple pros.
You cannot and i will NOT allow you to shake my belief.

I will believe long after you have tried your best to betray me.
I will believe, not to spite you... not because i have to. I will believe because allowing worthless acts to disrupt that Faith is more shameful than the not-so-good act itself. I will believe with every fiber of my being. I will believe with all the strength, laughter, joy, love that i can muster up.
I will find and dig up more joy than ever before....revel in it. but i won't ask you to join in.
Alas, its for people who genuinely care...not those who pretend to. For even if i opened my arms to embrace you now (and forgave all as i had tried earlier) so heavily burning are you in the pyre of animosity that even a friendly hand will you bite.
Thank you very much and keep your distance.

Yours lovingly
with Untainted Belief (that you cannot/should not touch with a bargepole)

X-Peace-X

(right from the essence has this sprouted, never more pure in its intent. enough, time enough has been spent. now no more.)
shoving propriety aside, i scoff you. i scoff you wholeheartedly and yes, openly
(if of course, my blog you read :D )

ps- friends in the dicey world of reality, i will not talk about this more. the discussion is over.

hugging the day, and more

Can i talk about the random-est thing ever? Can i?
Even if you said no, i won't stop. So here it goes.

Hugs.
i want to count the number of hugs i've been a part of today.
The days started out on a low note. like an instrument outta tune but then the sunshine started
to peek out from behind the (REALLY) huge clouds.
naturally, metaphorically speaking.

Once upon a time? Nah!

Sh-wuti. (psst, check out the way i've butchered her name)
S (warm)
Silly Billy (multiple times)
D-ika (new hug-er!)
Funti (to make her less grumpy)
H-ba (even though there was mud on the costume! :D)
S-shi (post-play)
S-ba (post-play)
S-na (screw dirty costume, we hugged like bear-cubs on the loose)
Me-zie (kaati hug. nostalgia)
Tani (awwle. warm like toast)
D-ny (umm relatively new-ish)
N-in (person i met for the first time today!..)
J-vi (haha. sandwich hug with above acting as slice one!)

wow, and this wasn't even a Major hug day! i guess it just feels great to wrap your arms around someone and indulge yourself!... vindhya i missyah! i know you're in delhi now, but i wanna sleeepovah! blasted Eliot!

Ps- D-ny, N-in and moi randomly burst into Mika' Grace Kelly in the middle of the meeting....the wonderful thing was that i wasn't the only one outta tune! *beams*... haha. sucks to those who think i can't sing! see people, there are other' out there who are worse. mwahahaha!

1.2.3. GO!

God! I'm 20. 20. 20. 20. 20.

Well, of course God knows, assuming my belief system is even .01% accurate. God knows.
but wait, do I know? Do i?
Do i realize the full implications of the baggage that comes with?
Its no longer all about melody and moving-with-the-flow crap.
People are DOING stuff for where they wanna be 4 months from now. or 5. maybe 6.
and i. am. watching. them. do. it.

Unless i strap on those running shoes, all these fancy words wont mean a flying-rats-left-bum.
They will mean nothing! nothing! nothing!
i should study Eliot.

unreasonable post-its.

Don't believe all those spiritual talks about forgiveness being positive and healthy. Doing so makes you forget the lesson learnt, until you scrape the barely-healed wound over the same old-rusty wire. It's important to not forget. If not forgiving is the only way to hold on to what the experience has taught one... its hard to pick what to do!
Measure the 'crime' ...label it? mark it with pink post-its for work-able.
purple for second-chance crime
orange for don't-look-back.

How many post-its per wound? One? Five? Seven or Nine.
You pick. you choose. you grab the new post-its and decorate each tear and abrasion.
Like medals awarded post-war for bravery.
Congratulations madame, you have survived 7 winters with 18 extra drops of dew on rosy cheeks. The extra dew was an accident, it had to go to Ms. YZU but reached your doorsteps. and then you opened the doors and let it wash over you.
Who asked you to? But it's okay that you did for not with it, you get a coloured post-it.
Pick choose. Divide your life into boxes.

Box A. Lets peek and see what you've stocked up on. Oh YES. We have a clear winner. It's mouldy-memories of playing with hand-me-down toys. Brown fluffy teddy's. The jury DOES like the innocent ones, brownie points await. *nudge*...*nudge*

Box B(eee) has torn bits of people-who-must not be mentioned. uhoh. Lets skip this then. The old skeleton in the cupboard? Ah oh (ignore cameraman ignore)

Box C. oh well, we're running out of boxes here folks but worry not the 148 post-its are STILL around. We shall label em. but not now, later.
After all it IS 12.20 am. time for baby to nap. not mine, yours, or anyone' we know. But some baby out there MUST nap.
Probably, yes.
Lets give it company.
now.

rambling eeeeon eeeeeeon eeeeeeeeon

Regardless of what the world believes or how hard they (nearly all) yawn in E's class... Neruda is 'something else'. As usual? No, apart from Eliot (and that too at the end)... Neruda is the person who makes sense. at a universal meaningful level. More easy to appreciate esp after Beckett' Endgame. This is SO purely for people studyin literature. Sigh.

Whaznu? you ask.
Nuthin-mush. i answer.

Great indulging in random conversation with myself now.
Bein pulled towards abstract these days.
Gotta pull up socks (shoes, paintings, ribbons) all that it takes.
get (sit, huddle, scrunch) down to studies.
Ah. you englaisse language you.
keep spilling like coconut juice from, a coconut.

i want 31st December plan to come true.
'wild' partyin with a special few and considerably less special many.
whadddveneed? you ask.
people- check
transport- (umm)
venue- kindaah-yeah-okay-maybe check
clothes- (yay yay yay) check check check (the closet is bursting)
fancy perfect heels- (i could have included this in outfit but this way i get to gush MORE) CHECK
the desire to move out on 31st- check (currently)
permission- check (im 20, not 2)

sigh. Its all a fancy 'check' as a whole. (bites nails). Time will tell if 6 checks lead to one perfect night. :)