Thursday, November 19, 2009

You, Me, and Happy.

You're pissed off, I'm pissed off. Mostly for the same reasons.


So let's stay away from each other and stay inside our personal broody bubbles. Or maybe we both just forget how pissed off we are and laugh over the stupid moments of today.


It's the little things that get to me, I think. Things like hand holding in Italy, bleah.




You know what I want? I want time. No, actually, I want to step out of the stream of Time, and pull you into my vortex and keep you there with me. Because then there are no constraints, no trains to catch at a particular moment, no traffic jams to beat, no people to get back home to, no responsibilities to attend to, no phone bills to pay.


But for now, I'm just going to let Iktara surround me.





Thank you, by the way.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Coconut. Chee.

Fitz was telling me about how I'm so westernized the other day. I got all offended and said "DUDE, I'm not THAT westernized! I know Hindi!" (Which is crap, because my hindi is just so, so, SO bad, I shouldn't ever admit to knowing any. There are no words to describe HOW bad. And there isn't even any justification for my crap Hindi, Jahangir spent the first ten years of his life in Bombay so he has THAT excuse, Neo spent her formative years in Hong Kong- I, on the other hand, have been in Delhi, the heart of North India ever since I was frickin' FIVE. I'm suchaloser. I thought I was going to fail my Hindi Board exam, even. But then I got 85%, so yaa boo sucks to all of you.)
So then he said "Alright, besides that, you don't even watch Bollywood cinema do you?"

And then I tried to list all the Hindi movies I've seen in my lifetime.






I came to a grand total of 6 and a half.




I suck.




So I've decided, enough is enough; I cannot go on living like this, feeling like a kid who was born into the wrong nationality.
So once I'm free enough, and in a position where I don't feel guilty about doing anything except bettering my academic performance, I will plonk myself down in front of the computer armed with everyone's recommendations, good food, and an arm to cuddle up to/clutch at all the appropriate scenes.

Jai Hind, brethren :D

Saturday, November 7, 2009

I've been such a touch-me-not today, man, it's annoying even ME. But then I always annoy myself, so that isn't saying very much, really. I overreacted at the stupidest things and the most innocuous of comments, Jesu Christi, I'd even understand if everyone were to ignore me for the next couple days and not buy me food from the canteen for the week.

Today's been a very lazy day otherwise. Spent a lot of time in bed, all cuddled up in my blankie with the lights off and the phone on silent. Purr, I'm a happy mommy kitteh :D The little one's been really whiny though, Mother made prawns today and all he got was tails. Jahangir very nicely laid his down in front of Blub, who gave him this 'what the fuck is THIS shite' look, the picky little schmuckeroo.

The exams are coming closer, and closer, and closer...
And it's all just way uncool, 'cause my hair can't deal with all this stress and neither can my head and I just want to hide under aforementioned blankie and wait for the storm to pass and April to get here already. All these questions and expectations and Idontknows and Letussees will disappear like *poof*, then. I don't want these idiotic questions. I want to know that everything will be fine and it'll all work out and everyone will be happy and satisfied.

I have illegal drugs on me, and I don't know what do with it.

Your body is a wonderland. Forgive me for my 5yearold-in-a-candystore looks, those I cannot control.

My English teacher is a lying little kutti. Stream of Consciousness, my pimpled behind.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

We've Got A Groovey Thing Goin'

I like the way certain songs always remind me of some people. Like how Chasing Cars reminds me of Swami, and the 6 months I spent at Mnemonique's. Everytime I hear it I remember the white, white walls of her house, and the shitty old computer, and the confusion that surrounded 2006. And that one time I cried while listening to Swami play the guitar over the phone. It was 8 in the night when that happened, I think. I remember it was dark out, anyway.

And Could Be Anything Else always reminds me of Pot. My head always does the left-to-right, right-to-left bop when I listen to The Eames Era. I can still feel the stupid crazy grin on my face as we bopped in time to the music playing on the earphones on the way back home from Spanish class. And how we laughed like we were on crack when we realized people were giving us funny looks from their cars. On a sidenote, that song still doesn't make sense to me.

Then there's The Rain Song. Yowza. That one reminds me of Rach and us sitting in her room in the nighttime, with a solitary candle that was stationed between us for light. And the black box that she used to keep her cigarettes in, all locked up and safe. Before she put the song on she said 'Don't talk. Just listen.' and so I did. She had her eyes shut and she lay back on the floor, and she took long drags from her cancerstick every so often. Her hands were shaking when the song ended.

And Faggot will ALWAYS be Medha. Jesus. I still remember that first time she told me about it. "DUDE, there's this kickass new song that I have, me and Deb keep listening to it man, it's so fucking funny, the chorus goes like 'Faggotfaggotfaggotfaggot!' yesterday, me and Deb were listening to it and screaming only that bit out- mostly because we don't know the rest of the lyrics, but YEAH!" And then she told me about that damn song some TEN times. That's not including the number of times I heard her telling someone else about it when I was around. Moronus. Medha listens to some freakay shite, she does. Gotta admit though, that faggotfaggotfaggot bit is some fun :P

And oooh. Sewn, Sewn, Sewn. Reminds me of The Boy. The feeling of his forehead pressed against mine as we swayed to the music. How he showed off his kickass speakers saying 'SEE dude, you should have speakers like these too, not the shitty tiny ones you currently have attached to your computer!' Bum. The sound of his even breathing as he slept in my arms. The way he gently ran his knuckles down my cheek every so often. Pretty song, Sewn.

On a random note, Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm by the Crash Test Dummies is so weird. I mean, the scenarios they come up with, man. The lyricist clearly had a very jobless, very very active imagination. Putput introduced me to this song, said it was real nice and all that. There was this one time I was coming home from Mnemonique's, and the radio was on, and I heard the RJ say "this next one goes out to Kita, from P, it's this lovely track called Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm by the Crash Test Dummies" and I was all 'who-sa what-ah?! Putput dedicated a track to Pot on the RADIO?!' cause he's the only one who calls her Kita. Turned out to be as untrue as blue being the new pink, but anyway. That was one helluva coincidence, methinks.

It is now 12.24 in the AM. I used to be able to stay up till 0300 without batting an eyelash, man. Now I get sleepy at 2100 and can't wake up till 0700hrs.

Pooh, anyway. I'm gonna stop this post here. I'm tyred. And The Mamas & The Papas are telling y'all to Dream A Little Dream of Me.
Run along, now.
Buenas noches, mis amigos.

Monday, October 26, 2009

Dude, come ON.

Y'all could ATLEAST leave a COUPLE of comments, y'know. This lack of attention and encouragement is very demotivating and sadmaking. Hmph.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

And suddenly, it hit me.

Walking around in my oversized shirt, watching you cook lunch while you were still in the boxers and t-shirt that you slept in.











Cliches are awesome.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

You're Toxic, I'm slippin' Under!

Yes, I know what you're going to say, I should go kill myself, loser britney loving fangirl yadayadayada but fuck you people, Toxic is CATCHY OKAY?! Y'all are just elitists. Pfft.
Plus, I've been listening to different versions of it- so now I have an indie version, a clubby version, and a metal version on loop. I still like the original best though. Yael Naim's version is really hard to sing. Bloody soprano.


Any, any.
I'm trying to figure out how exactly I'm supposed to update y'all on all that's been happening lately. It's all been so insane and fast paced. I swear, I've NEVER had this much fun falling for a boy. All the other boys I've liked never understood the importance of romance, ya know? But then, nobody else has the- how did he put it- felicity of expression that he does. Felicity is such a nice word. I like the staccato feel it has.
He invariably ends up using words I really like.
But then, maybe I'm just biased. Teeheehee.


You know, for a change, I think I quite like the fictionpress-yness of everything right now. It's all so...nice and happy-making. For me, anyway.

Friday, October 2, 2009

You Make My Head Soft.

"I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots, and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme. I hate it, I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all."

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Everything I've written in the last four days has been overtly personal and incredibly angsty and sappy. I'd put it up, but Papi'd slap his forehead harder than I do and give himself a concussion, and I wouldn't want that.

Friday, September 18, 2009

Lifehouse = Vagina.

True story.



I have a psych exam tomorrow, which I haven't even studied for and I doubt I will. This complete apathy is just a little bit unnerving. WHO is this idontgiveafuckish during EXAM TIME?! No wait, don't answer that. What I meant was, I am not one of those people thankyouverymuch. I like to do well, or atleast reasonably well, on my stupid tests. Even if they're so totally full of shit, and I hate history. I really do. Mostly because our teacher is a stingy bitch when it comes to marks. She totally ruined history for me. Boohuckey.



Anyway, this weekend is beginning to look like it's gonna be fabulous. Fitzgerald came over today and MADE my day, he did. Fuck psych, yay for insane laughing bouts and freaking out innocent kittehs! Teeheehee!
Ooh, and tomorrow, is Dandiya night! WOO! It's just ironic though, I'm gonna be there with four guys and not ONE of them is my date. Bleddy. Such unluckiness in lurve I did not ask for, Jah. Either way, I'm glad they're all coming. It's been a while since I've seen Papi and Willy and Joompa. I miss you all, I dew.



A lot of people are going out of town now. So SAD it eej, I tell youse truly. No Pot, no Fitz, and Papi and Willy have school. These effing Christian schools man, don't know how to be nice to peeps of other religions. Ass'ols. Any, any. I always has Medicine to keep me company. And Joompa, when he's available.



Thisissuchayrandomretardedboringpost.
Meh, Phuket.I had funner and more important things to write in the recent past. 777777777778uuuuuuuuu86666666666666
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Well. Blub says hello, y'all.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

I was thinking of writing something soul-baring, with undertones of angst and generally very pulling-at-the-heart-strings-y, but the ten million other bloggers out there beat me to it.

dammit.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Just.

I'm thinkin' my shitty mood is getting worse because I'm listening to Love Story on loop, and not the other way around. 



Sufjan Stevens, now. I already feel better.





Blub is somewhere outside right now. I should probably go find him and bring him back home, but I'm still in my nightie and I'm too lazy to, anyway. I really hope he isn't out killing birds again though, the murderous little feline. The last time he did that, he puked for four days in a row. And there were lots of feathers in his puke. "Ew" doesn't even begin to cover it.

Monday, August 31, 2009




Your Personality Is Like Alcohol



You're the life of the party, a total flirt, and probably a pretty big jokester.

Sometimes your behavior gets you in trouble, but you still remain socially acceptable.

You're a pretty bad driver, and you're dancing could also use a little work!



At your best: You are uninhibited, funny, and relaxed.



What people like about being around you: You're friendly, welcoming, and easy to talk to.



What people dislike about being around you: You're a little sloppy and careless.



How addicted people get to you: A fair amount, though they tend to deny it.

Ooer.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

We Are Driving Through Darkness.

I am 17 and full of plans. But none of that is going to happen. Something completely different is.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Litty Kitter.

What, is everyone else having the time the Ominous Omniscent Tarot Cards said *I* would? Ajeeb. Cause, y'know, the OOTCs said something about the Ten of Swords, and Pentacles, and all that hoopla, and apparently, my past, present and future are all supposed to have sucked, is still sucking, and will continue to suck. Respectively. 

But fuck you OOTCs, I'm not lamely blue and unfun now, I'm all jacked up on optimism and shinyhappygiri. Which is fun, I'm thinkin'. 

Things are happening so fucking quickly this year, I haven't even had a moment to BREATHE, it's like I blink and *poof* there goes that plotline. It's just messed up. And with all these new characters, plus the old ones, plus the numerous cameo appearances, not to mention the number of random unrequired scenes and cliffies and twists, WHERE IS THAT DAMNED PLOT WHEN YOU NEED IT?! GRAH! 

So I may be just a little bit high strung, but hell. That's infinitely better than being whiny and drowning in the deepdarkabyss of Self Pity, no?