Eighteenth May, Twenty-Thirteen

http://8tracks.com/stewardssons/this-too-shall-pass

You're like a tattoo that's so deeply embedded in my skin that the ink has stained my bones.

And this is the fifth time you've fallen asleep after promising you'd call. You're a moron. I love you anyway.



I hope this never passes; only grows, and accidentally-on-purpose becomes more domestic.  

Late Night AngstWhine

Isn't it funny how you can really not like yourself as a person and simultaneously have a huge ego? Sometimes I feel like I'm actually a Yeerk living inside this brain. That allows me the distance to both think I'm an idiot who often deserves to be treated like an idiot, and at the same time feel indignant and self righteous about it. I recently realized that I suck at forgiving people. I didn't think I was great about it, but I didn't think that I was that bad either. I thought I did a pretty good job of forgiving Fitz for his mistakes, for instance. As it turns out, I'm actually one of those people who lets shit fester until it blows up in my face in the form of idiotic behaviour (surprise surprise) that makes me the bad guy. I'm learning how to be better, though. I don't want to be someone who's angry and upset all the time. I should act more like the people I like. I'd become much more likable and much less of an "acquired taste" (such a nice way of putting a shitty thing; always dangerous, that). That would also take away half the drama from life which is good. I have a lot of drama in my head.
This is something that I should maybe do more often. Venting at an e-wall is much more helpful than writing to myself sometimes. Much easier to believe someone's listening, even if half of you doesn't want people to know this stuff.
My new motto in life is to Chill The Fuck Out (or CTFO for when I'm feeling cool). It's a great thing so far. I'm learning how to tell myself that I'm an idiot, and not taking offence but DOING something about it. Getting angry is exhausting. This man is also way hot. I should have a little gnome following me around with this, to hold up at appropriate moments (i.e. ALLTHETIME)

I'm so FUCKING tired of this constant moral policing, everywhere I turn there's people staring at me for travelling with a boy, leching girls who're wearing short shorts or a lower-than-usual-cut top, disapproving of girls talking about condoms in the metro. Today I found out that you can't access the La Senza site through DU internet - it is prohibited on the grounds that it is "lingerie and swimwear". You can't access a beauty blog because it is "malicious". You can't access health kart's sexual health care section because it comes under - you won't BELIEVE this - "Adult Material". 

WE'RE ALL MOTHERFUCKING ADULTS, ASSHOLES. DEAL WITH IT.

It's funny that they've also blocked stupid shit like FML (for Adult Material again, fucking morons) and mylifeisaverage and things. Soon they'll block 9gag too, if they haven't already. But what is this insatiable urge to clamp down on young people's lives in every way possible? Everyone is constantly telling you that if you're not studying (ALLTHETIME) you're a waste of space and what are you doing in college anyway? How dare you take a break by laughing at dumbass shit on FML, or like looking for nice underwear when you're in North Campus (Where half of us LIVE, incidentally)? No. No fun allowed here ever. And soon no breathing and no talking. 

FUCK this.

I was meant to start a new diary this year. Not just any diary, no no - a MOLESKINE diary. There was a time when I wanted to have a whole shelf filled with uniform black diaries recording the events of my life. I quite like that it didn't end up that way, though. Colour and variety is nice. In any case, I was supposed to start a new diary. A new diary on the first day of 2013. That hasn't happened yet, because I've been lazy about writing. Neither has the assignment, or the projects, or the other assignments that are yet to happen...if only things got reset on 1st January every year, that would be quite convenient. Anyhow. I've realized that the last three years of my life have been quite shit in terms of my behaviour. The welldeserved vacation post-12thgradeBoards stretched into 2012 and I didn't even see it until it was too late. I want to go back to being that girl, she was pretty great. 

Batman as an 8 year old kid, OMGAH!

http://limbero.org/jl8/1

I have nothing to say about my own life, but THIS^ is NEXT LEVEL awesome! The Justice League 8 years old - there is nothing cuter in the world and this guy deserves all the fame he needs to make this more than just a side project. Serious, Bruce is just the cutest thing EVER, all small sized and podgy, aww.

So it seems this blog is dying a natural death. Maybe it's a growing up thing, there's more to do, more to think about, less you want the world to know about yourself, I don't know. I even missed the birthday post, which was, if you're interested, absolutely lovely and juvenile. Significant Other and Other Loved Ones organized a surprise thing for which a bazillion people showed up and I got many presents and lots of love and it was generally very happy making. College has started and this time I don't think I'm behind on anything (yet, but an achievement nevertheless) and for now I'm actually interested in what we're doing, so that feels pretty good.

That was in July. Now it is September, and I am behind and it sucks. Especially when I compare myself to people from Ivy League universities, which is stupid, but I'm doing it. College has now changed for me, I feel more in control of things, more like I know what I want and I'm not as afraid to take it. I don't know why I have to wait till I'm a senior before I feel like this, but now that I do I don't want to let go of it for the next ten months. Ten months is all I have before the Next Big Move and while it is important it also seems inconsequential to write to a not-quite-there audience about such things. I feel like I should use this space to talk about things that really matter, but unfortunately the things that really matter to me mean fuckall to everyone who isn't where I am, geographically. I can't write about it to people who are where I am, not like on Facebook or something, because then I'll be accused of instigating rebellion. Conundrumm. Also I've noticed that I can't write for shit anymore which is making me wonder why I still have this page up.

Anyway. I'm still the same person, trying very hard to be someone different. I hope whoever is reading this is alright, wherever you are.

Cue major chord progressions and smiles all around, everybody. The Disgustingly Hopeful Sounding Post.

This summer has been this strange return to the past while trying to think about the future. Brief moments of meeting with people I used to know makes me feel so disconnected from the people closest to me now. It's sad in some ways, but I feel like this is a good kind of sad. A more balanced sad, one that I can make better all by myself, and for once, I know this to be true. I don't feel like things are out of my control anymore. This is what I want to be more often, man. I hate myself when I feel like I'm in a storm, everyone else hates me then too. So now I'm trying to make things better, rebuild bridges I accidentally (and at the same time intentionally, I don't know) burned. Nothing's really changed but in my head, everything has. I'm writing this down so that when I stop feeling like that, I'll have a way to remember. I'm listening to beautiful music which is totally encouraging this good feeling. Also this is the 201st post, a shit number, but a good place to begin again, I think.

Dudes, I know I haven't been around in a long while and I'm terribly sorry for not giving you someone else's life to read about. The only way to get high online-TRPs is to either be fucking awesome at writing/photo-ing or tell the whole world all your deep dark secrets, both of which I can't do. I thought I could, but no. The only things I've been writing lately are notes for exams (which is not fun and really boring) and projects for college (which was more interesting, I'm quite proud of them actually). I'd be willing to show those but I'm pretty sure the plebs won't be interested and the academic variety wouldn't be impressed, so. That idea's down the drain. Anyhow. I've been trying to figure out how to create light where The Dark Void lies, ie, at the end of graduation. College is so fuckall dude, why can't it be longer than three years so people have more time to get their shit together? Three years of college is terrible, only the most awesome people have a really great time and an even better one after, the rest of us just fuck around until we're 23, after which we do MBAs or make plans to get married or fuck around some more until we figure it all out. It's so weird thinking about how in a few years people I know are going to start settling down, getting married, having kids, the whole shebang. As far as I'm concerned that Grown Ups business isn't going to happen until I'm nearing 30, and even that seems a bit soon. I'm thinking maybe my biological clock shouldn't mean anything because it's probably best if I don't contribute to the world's already full-to-bursting population. Also I read a book where during labour the baby's arm came out first and they had to put forceps and other such tools inside the lady to pull it out. Did you know that roundabout the 17th century and before when babies came out like that they had no hope of survival? So they had to chop the child up, bit by bit, in order to take it out of the woman so that at the very least they could save her. Also birthing videos are disgusting. Everyone needs to watch them, people will use condoms more carefully.

thinking too much about things makes me go mentally cross eyed. Speaking of cross eyed, I can do the weird move-one-eye-while-the-other's-disturbingly-static thing. Yes. Me and Fitz both. Tomorrow is Graduation, not mine of course, and I'm wearing a SatyaPaul sari. I'm too fancy, it's true. Feels a little bit like wearing air though, since it's so veryvery light. I can't sleep and I'm jacked but I'm not sure on what and because of this I'm online, blogging, after a month and a lifetime, and hello world. I broke two hair sticks the other day, in case you'd care to know, since I've run out of fun drama in life because I'm soontobe20. I'm stuck between feeling a sense of "YES, NO MORE TEENAGE BULLSHIT, THEBESTPARTOFADULTHOOD, HERE I COME!" and "wtf. that was so short and lame." and "I can't believe I'm writing about my age. My moronisity is killing me." But what the Fibonacci, I'm young and stupid and I might as well embrace the more harmless bits of it no? Meanwhile I wasn't invited to a party but that's okay because tomorrow night, Suits is going to finish downloading. Yess. Later broskies.

lazyholidayshouldbeworkingirresponsibleSTUPIDme

There's this funny squirmy feeling in my stomach.

The other day I was sitting in the car with M and Rt and Cuddles and Fitz was on my mind and I had this sudden outofbody-if you can call it that-feeling. I mentally flicked through images of him, things he's said, his touch on my skin, and it suddenly felt like he was a complete stranger, like his face was new and unknown to me and all of those memories were someone else's. The shape of head, his smile, his voice, all completely alien in a "how do I know this person?" way. And then everyone in the car felt like someone else's friends, another life that had nothing to do with me. But when I tried to think about it it suddenly disappeared, like water escaping through the gaps between my fingers when I try to hold it in my hand.

This new house is finally starting to feel like home, even though I don't want it to. It's a nice place, it's comfortable. I can see eagles through my window, really see them, so sometimes when I wake up early we share a few moments together. My room always looks blue and cool now because I have only hues of green and turquoise in it now, only a small bit of red. And all of the posters and things are up, I want to have it all on the upper beams of the walls in Big Chill style. So far I have the Beatles' Revolver poster, a painting of a cat by Mother's ex-boss, a Simpsons-esque drawing of the Beatle's by Rach, a poster by Maida that incorporated a conversation we had while she was making it, and a few other things that I've lost interest in describing now.

Birthdays and school reunions are lovely, even though now I know I'd never want to go back. The squirmy feeling is gone now, good.

This blog has slowly but surely been losing its relevance over the last year. Too many of the people who read it are people who know me, which means I can't talk about real life problems without feeling inhibited, and like I'm nothing more than fodder for conversation. I can't talk about people I know without it getting back to them, good or bad, but mostly bad because I'm brash like that. Also, man, it feels so WEIRD talking about myself while also trying to be so obscure that casual acquaintances don't know what exactly I'm referring to. That's also a good thing I think because instead of describing my sob story in gory detail I'm forced to pick up the central problems in my head, so it has helped sort out things in the past. Nothing's really changed in the last month and a half, I went for the Jaipur Literature Festival and I felt extremely disappointed - what an epic waste of time, given that there were only three or four talks over the course of four days that I really enjoyed. Oprah and Chetan Bhagat fucked the weekend, with all kinds of idiots pouring in to say "Oprah, I waited ten years for one minute of your time", or to maul CB at the signing table. Him and his douchebaggery man, the kind of shit he says makes you want to rip his brain out of his skull and stamp all over it. Tom Stoppard and David Hare were fantastic, Fatima Bhutto was super cute in every way, and Lionel Shriver kicked ass all over the place, it was mindblasting. I wish I got to meet her and tell her that even though I've read only one of her books, I thought it was deeply emotional in the best possible way. I didn't have her book though, and I'm sure she's had it up to her eyeballs with Kevin. The crowds and prices were despicable, but were also helpful in a way - we managed to nick beer, food, AND books while we were there. 'Twas bloody brilliant, as was the dhaba food and the lazy nighttime chilling. Didn't eat anywhere fancy, the bill usually came to less than a grand for a total of 8 people and Fitz bought himself a sweet little helmet as part of an inside joke (something to do with the boys having shots of water in their boxers while wearing helmets in their rooms which would be infinitely funner than coming for the fest seeing as how it sucked so bad). Jaipur was mostly fun because of the people I went with and not so much the litfest itself, but, like every other Delhi University bourgeois asshole, I'm probably going to go there next year as well.

Given  December was holiday month I thought I'd have many fun things I'd want to tell the world. Christmastime and the everpresent smell of rum cake and funny stories involving many friends and suchlike. But it's been a weird month. Christmas is around the corner and it's strange how I feel so disconnected from it. I used to be one of those idiots who sing Rockin Around the Christmas Tree before December even began. Now I just feel cut off from my mother's excitement about her Advent wreath (first time, y'know, she's like a little kid about it - a freakishly religious kid though). Even Jahangir, he got so angry that we didn't put up the decorations as a family. Winter's come really late too, but with a vengeance, saala. I'm trying out rag curling my hair and also pin-curls, because my cousin's getting married on the 27th and my aunt said I can't go with my mane of jungli curls. Except Fitz interrupted my first attempt at pin-curling and then I found that I had better things to do. Pot's back in town, I'm going to try to stay happy, and to this end, I must really force myself to learn to not beat myself up so much.

I sometimes feel I have my own version of Pot's serial-dating. I don't think I've ever not been infatuated with someone since I was 13. Or 14. And by infatuation I don't mean fangirl-bordering-on-psychotic-stalker-giri over a guy, it's something like a...a period of extreme closeness with a particular person. Rach, Kenny, Joompa, Somya, Mnemonique, Pot, Maida, Papi, Fitz, Budhra. Like a more socially acceptable version of serial dating, I guess, because it's basically having a short term best friend. It also means that I'm, for lack of a better word, allowed to have more than one at a time, like a juggling act of sorts since it's really HARD to be that close to so many people at a go. Maybe this is a more fucked up version of serial dating, because at least that way you focus everything on one person; this way, you're spread out over so many people, feelings and relationships sometimes overlap. Occasionally jealousy and things gets in the way as well since the transition from one infatuation to the next isn't always smooth. I have to create separate compartments for all of them  in my head, or at least I feel like I have to, so that each one feels special in its own way. Also so that it feels less like cheating, which is strange but it does and I don't know why. Anyway this can continue another time.

Day dreaming is fun. Today I spent my morning thinking about how I'd raise my child: legitimate forms of authority, frequent hugs and an abundance of love, and how equality is ALWAYS IMPORTANT. Of course all of this depends on he/she is, but being mine, I'm not worried. There were also many thoughts about Significant Other, playing Happy Families and suchlike. But mostly about morning sex. Speaking of which, what happens to morning breath in such situations? 

Sometimes I do things and then two seconds later I wonder "where the fuck did that come from? When did I become like this?" I like to pretend I'm someone else, then. It feels strange when people are arguing with the real me when my head is already someone else.


I want to be tall.