Dear Brittany Murphy…!!!!

I don’t know what I want from life, I really don’t know. Because I can’t seem to break out of my bubble and accept life the way people do, the way it should be. I am hiding in layers of denial with every cell in my body hoping for a movie like miracle to stop the world from crashing down on me, even though I know that’s how the story would end. I would be bulldozed by reality.

Sometimes I miss writing diaries because that’s where I can actually be all pitiful and pathetic. Well, truth is writing diary only would make me more sad because I would open up for real and I have seen every time I have tried to open up I couldn’t shut up. I remember when I once had a moment of truth sharing with a friend, it felt so good because I spoke my heart out about things hidden inside punching me from inside so they could just carve a hole and get out of me. For first few days I was happy I found someone to talk to and then I realized there was this need to talk and talk and talk every day every second of every hour. I realized it wasn’t good. All I wanted was to talk about myself and my pain, I just couldn’t think about anything else or anyone else.

There is this thing about pain, you have to share it to a level where you can feel better but that’s it. Releasing the years of pressure accumulated inside fast and quick would drown you and the other person in it.

Why can’t I just give up and be the world wants me to be, normal and uncomplicated?

I have started reading “Love letters to the dead” and its quiet similar to “The Perks of being a Wallflower” which is good in a way. I love the latter one. If I had to write a letter to a dead celebrity, I think I would choose Brittany Murphy because of Uptown Girls and Girl Interrupted. Being someone who spends a lot of time with fiction shows and movies, I have this thing with the characters. I love them so much that I wish they were for real.

I could also write to George Mallory because man I need to know what happened to him. Amelia Earhart.

I have to go now, I need to read and then sleep.

The more you sleep and rest the better you fake smile. True Story.

Goodnight world!

Blogger or Blabber? Who cares, its frekn 600th post…Yay

Yesterday i played 5 games of Chess and i won every single game but i wonder why cant i do same when im playing at the yearly Chess Tournament at Gotham. While it was a good day for  me, it wasn’t for my buddy Federer. Anyways, who cares about final now. Victory or no victory i’m always Team Federer…!!!!

Before i go babbling, this is my 600th post and so i want to say YAY…!!!!!!!!!

Crazy right? I think blogging and music have become my drug cant do without them. 6oo posts is super crazy and wow considering the fact that im not even a serious, funny, political, or freshly post material. Im just a messed up person who was once a diary writer and is now a serial blogger.

Hey, i have also added a new page to my blog Poet inside Little’s Head. This one has all the so called poems that i have written so far in my blog. I just compiled them in one place because i have been meaning to do that for so long now. Im not a poet but sometimes i end up scribbling words in a manner which could, from a very far angle, resemble to something like a poem.

Thankyou for being a part of my blog journey…Little doesn’t blog she blabbers but she likes doing it.

Have you seen my awesomeness? Can’t find it…

So i had a bad Sunday with some really weird kind of Nervous breakdown or whatever it was. Was bad, really bad and i cant even tell you what all went inside my head. But im all okay now. Okay but pissed because yesterday some moron banged his scooter right in my car. Some really crazy girls were trying to cross the road without looking at the traffic, so i had to press BRAKE for them but the scooter guy doesn’t get to do the same and BANG.

My poor car has had some really bad time in past 2 years, poor car i must say.

Today i really missed my diaries, so much that at one point i almost made my up mind about buying a brand new diary and pen to start writing. But then i realised i shouldn’t. A part of me is tempting me to go back to writing diaries but I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to go back to old habits.

Good thing i have been sleeping early and playing every day for past 2-3 days. But whoever said that a good 8 hours sleep and exercise is good for depression didn’t knew me or was never depressed. You know i always believed that my blues were the reason i wrote stories but i guess i was wrong because i cant write anymore. Weird i cant even read.

and 124…phew…i still feel bad…

Lately, everyone is discussing the politics around because of the whole election season but i kind of have no opinion. Its like i dont care about anything.

I think i have lost my mojo. I cant feel my awesomeness or anything even remotely close to it plus i dont even feel like dancing on my bed with loud music. Man! that’s the worst.

Little is awesome but Little cant, just cant, sleep on time…

Well guess what…i have the title for my story for NaNoWrimo even though I’m still not sure if i can work but hey i have a story, a name and a song. Can do lot with those three things.

Once a class mate from college said that she noticed something in my stories, she said that every story i have written has someone dying in it. True. I don’t know why i never noticed that before but maybe it’s because i write suspense and tragedy together. Most of my stories are drama with darkness in them. A friend of mine was, few days ago, discussing a show with me and said that she finds that little too dark and i realised isn’t that what i write.

Maybe i could have been a happy writer if life would have been different but then i realise if life was sunshine i wouldn’t have been a writer at all. I found writing when i realised im different from everyone.

Today im so tightly wrapped around my darkness, my truth and the pain that it is hard to imagine a life without it. I mean a Sunny Shiny Me? How weird would that be?

I wish i could remember my first story but i don’t. I do remember that i started writing in 9^th grade, poems, stories and my daily diaries. Because i was an angry and lone teenager back then who always used to be  fight at home and feel that her family doesn’t care. Not true. My anger is still alive but now i know why im angry and at whom. Im not angry at my parents or my brother or my friends, im angry at the world in general for it is biased and racist and judgmental and lives on rules carved on stones.

My most favourite poem, as written by me, is titled Castle and i think i still have it somewhere. Also What’s my Diagnosis? Is one of my favourite poems. I like Jane Doe but i think my favourite story would be Dominique or Crossroads, if and ever i got to finish them.

I have an idea; i am going to create a different page now with my poems. I don’t write much poems but i do have few that i am proud about.

Voices: Hey Writer Girl

Me: What?

Voices: We think you made your point

Me: And what would that be?

Voices: You love writing. And you are awesome. Seriously?

Voices: Are you going to make a song on it next? A love song for you by you…maybe?

Me: Rude

Voices: Boring and Creepy and Weird…really very weird…

Me: What do you want?

Voices: Didn’t you just book online movie tickets for tomorrow evening?

Me: So?

Voices: Hmm, nothing just…

Me: what?

Voices: Its 2:15 am, you will sleep by 2:30, get up late, go late and that would mean…

Me: Feck…that would mean i won’t be able to leave on time for my movie.

Voices: Whoa! You do have a brain. You should use it more often.

Me: I should get a lobotomy

Voices: Because?

Me: You guys live in there

Voices: Whatever…2:18 am…Tick Tock Tick…

Me: AAAaahhh….

 

 

Thinker or a writer…who am i?

Okay! So i have been missing in action. Don’t ask…long story but im back. Two things i realized from my absence, not writing makes me very sad, like really.

Have missed on so many blogs and posts that i follow. Man! it feels like an era of absence.

Well good thing nothing much has happened, nothing new happened and no big thing that i didnt post about. Life, in my case, is like a planet keeps moving without it feeling like it is.

I have a story building up inside my head and i want to work on it but then i have two others stories screaming attention out loud at me. I wish i was one of those people, you find at cafes sitting alone with a laptop, endless cups of coffee and a no place else to be, nothing else to do except type type type. I had a thought yesterday about my writing. I dont think im a writer, atleast not a good one but i still write because i get these ideas and stories playing inside my head. So what am i? A thinker or a writer?

I have to go now but i will be back tomorrow because this is what i do, i write…!!!!

Somedays stay with us forever…!!!!

Sometimes I think about the day Snowy came to our lives, the day i got my first pocket money, the day I fell in love, the day I met my best friend, the day I wrote my first poem, the day I wrote first story, the day I acted in a play, the day I was made house captain in school, the day I won my first house cup as a captain, the day I had my first crush, the day I became 17, the day I lost love, the day I walked through my college gate, the day I had my first glass of alcohol, the day I thought college was the best thing about life, the day I bid goodbye to friends for some hundredth time, the day I got my first scooter, the day I was praised by a teacher for my debate, the day I got my first cheque, the day I met my superhero, the day I thought I was going to die, the day I wanted do die, the day I spoke for the first time, the day I found out i have people who love me despite knowing, the day I wanted to live again, the day I bought my first phone, the day I bought my car, the day I completed my one year at work, the day my parents indirectly told me they were proud of me, the day I saw life take a 360, the day I had my first and thousandth panic attack, the day i searched for the depression online, the day I started writing diaries, the day I started blogging, the day I started lying and hiding from friends I once thought were my life, the day i saw my mother cry, the day I came back from work smiling and singing I love my work, the day I never wanted anything do change, the day I thought nothing would change now, the day I met music, the day i wrote Dominique’s first page, the day I went to Srinagar, the day I had my worst haircut, the day I won my first and second chess tournament, the day I lost against, the day I lost, the day I won against my biggest opponent, the day i won against my boss, the day I got my first surprise birthday party, the day I cried and I didnt know how to stop myself, the day I again wanted to die, the day i realised im a superhero, the day I was scared I would lose my mind, the day I stood awake all night worried about Snowy, the day he had his operation and I saw him on the strecher and the day he died…

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