Whoa! 6 years of being Little Miss Obsessive…

So apparently it’s my blog’s birthday.  God! It feels like ages ago when I started blogging. I was one of those “I’m going to post my views on politics, social issues and write the right stuff”.

Then I turned into long lost sister of Meredith Grey and colored the blog into nothing, but dark and twisty.

But I love my blog.

I actually made friends with few fellow bloggers. Crazy how people really do click that LIKE button but it feels nice.

When I started blogging I started following other people on regular basis, but I rarely do that now. Its not them it’s me thing. Life is hitting me hard shots with backhand.

This is where I realized I’m a superhero. I miss my super hero posts and the one where I’m talking to the voices. I ‘ve had some really crazy but funny crazy posts too. This is where I do the poetry too.

I wish one day I get to tell my story till then it’s all bits and pieces of my darkness.

Thank you for tagging along.

Sharing something I’ve been listening so much. It’s stuck in my head.

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A withered rose…!!!!

Like a withered rose

She stood still

Unknown

Unaware

Of the change

The blowing wind

It felt strange

To bloom

To smile

Doom

Was that the color

Of her

She wasn’t sure

Or

Cared

She was a withered rose

Stood and pose

Same way

Everyday

Living in the past

So aghast

Of what’s not coming back

Of the deep crack

Between then and now

Raising a brow

She gave signs of life

For she never moved

A withered rose

She stood & pose

Same way

Everyday

There, there

Said the sun& moon

She heard none

She wanted to

Listen, dance & move

To spring & monsoon

But she was no more

The flower she was to be

Ravaged to the end

She stood little bend

She bore no signs

Of the beauty

She was once

Of the richness

The fragrance

The abundance

Of life

A waste to be thrown

What became

Of her

For

She was a withered rose

She might have been presumed

Dead

If it wasn’t the dread

Painted over

Darker

Than her own color

No water

No light

She starved

Pain carved

Every where

She rusted

She broke

To the ugliness

Of a stick in water-less

Pot

She wrought

She fought

Then she became a ghost

A dead flower

Almost

A little pale & pink

Oozing with the stink

Such was fate

Of the girl who

Turned into

A withered rose

Who stood & pose

Same way

Everyday..!!!!

the better side of the window…!!!!

I think happiness is a myth, it’s more of a fashion style that people carry with them.

Is it really possible to be happy like so happy that it would hurt, but in a good way?

I don’t know why I’m asking. I have had a good evening yet I feel unsettled. A part of me is tired and knowing that tomorrow is another day of wearing a face, and walking out in the world, is only making me feel more exhausted.

Today I saw a man who wasn’t physically well and was begging for food or money. I stopped my car at the traffic lights and rolled down my window to give him a banana. He seemed happy, walked away, sat on the ground and used his good hand to eat.

Now , who am I to cry or crib about life when he would do anything to be me even lie and pretend like I do. I know there are hundreds of people who would happily wear a face everyday and live my life. Because I m well, healthy, have a job, some money, family, a home and I get to be the one rolling the window down instead of the one knocking on it.

But, does this mean my pain isn’t significant? Does this means it’s okay to cry alone and to fight the inevitable?

I know I have it good and I shouldn’t be the one to complain, but it still hurts everyday. Knowing that I have to fight a certain kind of sadness & fear every minute of everyday doesn’t help. I am thankful for the privileges but I still can’t stop hurting.

Does it make me a horrible person? To be ink blue all the time when I’m at the better side of the window.

It’s just the sadness is so heavy some days it gets too hard to carry it without swearing at the world and the people and the dried-down river of empathy around us.

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America you nailed it cause equality is dope!!!!

Before I start, I am going say it out loud I saw Pitch Perfect today and I have no idea why it took me so long. It’s awesome. Being a Glee fan it’s no news that I love modern musicals.

So, America big day? Love is love and Ireland and USA are just where the world is looking at right now. Some with hope and others…well haters gonna hate. But it’s just amazing how we as humans are evolving and accepting that EQUALITY is not just a word. It’s a real thing.

And for those who wonder if they ever would see that word, its okay to be not okay. Sun takes time to shine, its dawn for people in America for now. World is taking baby steps and one day it would become what it was intend to be, at first place. One day world would be a free place with equality for everyone.

Right now, its 3 am the ghostly hour and I have so many things inside my head. I want to sit and talk to someone for hours, not listen but talk. Sometimes I really wish that the whole 3 am ghost thing would come true and some ghostly thing would come to scare me, I would make him or her sit and talk. I mean that’s the least he or she can do before scaring the crap out of me. Plus, ghosts won’t share your dirty twisty life stories with other people.

I’m just glad its weekend. What did I learned from past 3 days?

Gotham is turning more and more into Hunger Games and I feel less of Batman and more of Katniss Everdeen. I can literally picture myself with a bow and arrow while fighting for survival.

But then I can’t be Katniss Everdeen she is way too cool and I am one of those girls in the chick flicks who want to be friend with the cool girls. I’m not cool, I’m the girl who wants to be noticed by and be friends with cool ones. I’m not nerdy I’m just boring cause I don’t do the socially accepted definition of fun things.

BTW Anna Kendrick is so cool. Now I need to watch the part two.

I should go now cause I’m afraid one day God would fire a miracle gun towards me turn my life into everything I want, make me peachy and sunshine and rainbow, but I would not be able to cherish the Hey-I’m-Happy thing cause I would be dead courtesy lack of sleep. I read somewhere the amount of sleep deprivation that you give your body can never be recovered. Damn! Well I’m not here to sleep. I’m here to make faces at empty walls and wonder if only I was an artist. I’m here to wonder, sleep can wait.

Good night world and congratulations to America.

 

 

We are, what we are, what we always will be…Ignorant!!!!

Ignorance is what makes people with mental illness suffer more; not theirs but our ignorance towards the subject.

Why do I say that? Someone in Gotham was talking to me about BiPolar. It was a small, silly and ordinary conversation but when it was over I felt sad. Not many people know what depression or mental disorders like BiPolar, PTSD, BPD is, not that it should be a part of our school textbooks but not knowing the thing is one reason we never understand someone who actually goes through it.

For example, I have stomach issues directly caused by my messed up head and also because I was a bad eater once. Now, when I am usually in a situation where I want to avoid something for my stomach or I’m having a bad stomach day, for no reason, I often get to hear things like ‘That’s all in your head’. Dude! That always hits me below the belt. Never for once a person who knows acid reflux or anxious stomach would ever say that ‘Metal taste? Oh that’s so crazy just eat something sweet’

So, when you meet someone with mood swings, totally unexplainable, never call that person crazy or something like ‘You need a good day out’. Don’t you think that person has tried everything from good day, good song, good movie to every other effin good thing available. Some pain and hurt and sadness are not made up by that person. They are there.

Just few days back, 2-3 people around me were making fun of a guy saying things like ‘O he is so gay’. I was there, I was suppose to pitch in something and I felt so ashamed of being there and not being able to tell them how insanely insensitive and wrong it is to joke like that. I wanted to turn around say, you mister are a male whore, you lady are an effin loser and you sir are also a loser in capital letters. I didn’t. I swear I wanted to so badly but I’m a coward or more or less I’m just one of them. So, I just pretended to be busy and asked why they think he was gay and as soon as the topic shifted, I excused myself and walked away. You know, we are what we are and will always be…Ignorant.

If you and I make fun of someone’s weight, height, health, pain, moods, sexuality, color or accent, it’s not their fault…it’s our…our ignorance towards them and the thing we think is so weird about them.

P.S Just ignore my rant and enjoy this beautiful song

Step one, step two, step three…step thousand & eighty three…!!!!

She has been walking

For hours

For years

All alone

For miles

Yet its the same

The road

The sky

The load

Of her emptiness

Is her only

Companion

Her Oblivion

Is her only friend

So much walking

She finds herself

At same place

With no grace

She is a face

With questions

She throws

At the birds

The crows

The wall

The sky

And then few more steps

Few more turns

She stifles a cry

Drags herself

From left to right

All alone

With heart so

Heavy like a stone

She is bitter

Punished by her own existence

To her

Nothing makes sense

Where and when it all began

The plan

Of universe

The mess

She has fallen into

Step one

Step two

Step one thousand & eighty three

When will she get free

For she wants no more

Of hopes and words

Sticks and stones and swords

Mean nothing to her

For

She fears the unseen

She wince

In pain

I quit she says

Yet she stays

On the road to nowhere

So much of moving

Still is here

She never moved

She never will

Standing still

Even after years of struggle

In the misty road of pain

She snuggles

up to herself in vain

How long has she been walking?

How long has this sadness been stalking?

She asks once more

She has lost the count and score

It comes back to

Step one

Step two

Some more tears

Another silent sniffle

And step three

Step four

Hundred more

To go

Thousands more to count

While she continues to mount…!!!

what??? of course, I party too…pfft! party is my middle name…

Weekend came and went in a jiffy or maybe I didn’t notice it because I was too busy partying and having time of my life with a friend who came unannounced.

Saturday I had a surprise visit from a dear dear friend called darkness, I call my friend Darky with love. So Darky kind of is a very old and dear friend, at first I never liked being around this buddy of mine but then with time I got used to having Darky around. There is this thing about Darky, it comes and goes without informing and when we are together, we party and party hard.

So, this Saturday we both sat and spent whole day together. We kind of had a slumber party, just the two of us, as we danced on self pity, anger, misery, bitterness and what not. We have been friends for a long time now, but every time my dear friend visits me I get this weird feeling that i need some space. There I said it, i want to break up with my friend for I think Darky and I need to spend some time apart…by some I mean a lot. Don’t get me wrong, i am so used to Darky that I don’t remember life before we became friends but every visit from my fun friend takes me away from real life.

We party so hard that next day it’s a mess inside my head, the hangover in itself is so strong and I feel so bad about wasting precious little me time where i could have read or wrote or went out for a walk or just did anything else. Every time we meet, Darky and I become crazy duos who kind of cut ourselves away from the world. I kind of avoid my other friends, family and my own self when I’m with this crazy friend of mine.

Guess, some friends are bad influence for real and yet you can’t get rid of them.

Now, I wish I could get my Saturday back. Lying there on the couch hating the world, hating myself, I realized one thing that just when you need the voices in your head to intervene they sit back and enjoy the show of you getting all high and handsey with darkness.

And when the party is over and you are sober, this happens:

Me: God! I want my Saturday back.

Voices: Hmm…Shouldn’t you be wanting your dignity back?

Me: What?

Voices: Just kidding. Saturday is a good wish. What would you do with dignity anyway, throw it away with your next cocktail of self loathing. Go girl!

Voices: BTW…You and Darky…such a lovely couple…sniff sniff…tears…

Me: huh

Voices: Rofl.gif~c200

 

Journey towards the bright light at the end of the tunnel continues…lets hope its not a train!!!!

My 31st and 1st and 2nd and 3rd and 4th all came and went with a swooshy sound, I didn’t get time to sit and ponder on how 2014 was and what my 2015 resolutions would be. Last year was relatively kind to me, but I did lose a friend in the crowd of expectations and lies. A friendship drowned somewhere causing an irreparable damage. Minus that I did fine with the standards tears, pain and heartache. I did drop to a whole new level of blues when I discovered new dark face of mine, but that’s no biggie. Apart from the usual, it wasn’t a nice year in terms of health. Yep! Definitely that’s where 2014 screwed up big. Overall, 2014 was decent, kinder and a snatcher for it snatched a friend.

When every day is a struggle some years prove too kind not because they tore you up little less, because you became little more immune and strong.

I did find a lot of new songs, new TV shows, a way back to my stories, few more novels on my shelf, new favourite pair of sneakers, some more scratches and dents on my car and introduction to Xanax. Walking into 2015 is more or like taking a blind turn on a dark rainy night, just not sure what to expect. Every year I hope I would bump into Dawn, I fear I would lose grip on the frays of hope and I wear faces that suffocate me. Maybe 2015 would be amazing, maybe it would be kind or maybe it would be my iceberg, I have no idea. Let’s destiny and universe do its thing, I have things to do too.

  • Find as many new songs as possible
  • Not to break my new phone (Oh yes big news Little is now HTC person Goodbye Nokia Windows)
  • Watch more movies of Jodie Foster
  • Drive slowly and more in control and safe and better and in any other way that would keep me away from repair shops
  • Buy a proper bookshelf or else my mom would sell away all the books lying around me
  • Read as many historical fiction as possible
  • Read at least one unread book in my book collection
  • Continue my relationship with happy food and coffee
  • Cheat on a fictional character by falling in love with another and another and another
  • Cry when no one is watching and put on my headphones when someone is watching
  • Watch You’ve Got Mail or any Meg movie on an impulse
  • Continue believing I’m a Vampire and stay up till late only to regret next afternoon at 3pm
  • Find a new donut to add to my confusion of what’s my favorite flavor
  • Finish editing at least one of my stories or just send an unedited version to a publisher for fun
  • Torture my body with worthless evening walks and jogging, despite knowing that Dunkin Donuts is where I belong

So, may be 2015 would be another 2014 or another 2013 or another 2012 or 11 or 10 or maybe it would be a whole new never seen totally mind boggling era…all I know, I’m a lone soldier battling a war and my resolutions are my weapon of defense against the unknown.

There is always another song to add to shuffle, another cup of coffee to put on Insta, another book to buy and another fictional character to fall in love with…

P.S leaving a fun remix by Bastille