Dear 2011.

Jono,

I made it through this year.

I am on 30 mg of happy right now – artificial emotions sometimes, and heavy doses of reality.

Of having to second guess the friends that I have. Of worrying about what they think of me. Of wondering where it is I am so defective. In the heart, or the head or the face.

But you didn't cripple me – you didn't destroy me.

I made it. I made it. I'm making it and it's friggin’ unbelievable sometimes.

You didn't cripple me. You didn’t make me believe that the world hated me with your half-baked lies and sad excuses. No, you were never there. You pretended like you were, just to put on a show for the world to see your false face, but you never were there. Like we were, for you.

You didn’t cripple me. No, no, no, no. No, you did not. What you DID do was delete me off your friend list.

Ouch. Terrifying.

----

Smalls,

The suddenness of the end of this friendship was just, so, sudden.

WHAT. HAPPEN?

Yes, bad haircuts and friends and rumors can make people embrace the darker side of humanity. But NONE of that happened. What cost us this friendship, when, where and why?

Pourquoi, jolie fille, pourquoi?

I need to know. I HAVE to know. The meaning behind this sudden end.

You’re killing me, Smalls.

---

Curly,

A misunderstanding. Which cost us both one and a half years. What a meaningless battle we waged, based on such wasted sentences and lies. There was a beauty behind the bond we built. Something that was effortless turned into the most hurtful and demanding moment of our lives.

Let’s not misjudge people, yeah? If the world was solely based on mistruths, it wouldn’t revolve around the sun. It would revolve around Paris Hilton.

----

Bec,

Let’s never never never NEVER grow up, jolis hiboux. The world, as we see it, is vague and dumb. Yes they call us arrogant little fucks but it doesn’t matter. We’re young. We can get away with murder if we can.

Because we’re awesome like that.

----

Piggy,

My pretty, pretty, pretty little piggy. I hold, for you, a love, that you’ve strengthened with your Barney and Kung-Fu Panda impressions and stupid, lame jokes.

Venir, petit cochon, nous allons chanter avec Chris Martin et comprendre la vie.

How did I ever find you, love?

----

Pooh bear,

Oh Pooh. Oh secret keeper. Oh sister. Oh friend. Thank you. Thank you so much. For walking into my life with such love and heart. At such short notice. 

Je suis tellement reconnaissante. Je vous remercie. Merci Dieu.Je vous remercie.

There is so much to be said. But I think you should know.

You is sexeh and you knowz it.

----

Sal,

I miss you – but that's not enough to really say it.

I don't want to share you anymore. Not with Jo or anyone else. Not with girl1 or boy1.

Not with PrettyBrownEyes. Not with The Universe.

What are you thinking about Baby Girl… I know there's something in that head of yours…

Because when they ask at the wedding I'll stand up.
He'll never be good enough for you.
Never ever ever ever ever.
(For me at least, but mine's the only opinion that counts right?)
Let's run away to Disneyland with a wink to our past lives.
Be my best friend forever and ever and ever and ever.
Drive three hours for me.
And watch cartoons with me.
(I'll always love you the most – well, maybe except for Chris Martin…)
Let's get caught in the static and almost almost almost let go.

Darling you send me, honest you do.
Over the moon.

----

Heart,

Be still, little one.

Why haven’t you learnt yet, mon amour. Heads and hearts are not meant to float amongst the clouds. Don’t go any closer. You bruise too easily through your dense armor, you six-month-old baby. He smells like sin, sunshine. His smile could fool the devil.

But oh, that voice.

Let’s not die this time. Let’s just stand back and enjoy the chaos.

---

Binoy,

Close. No pet name yet. But we’re close. So close to call you something witty yet terrifying to frighten the meanest cookie and the roughest marshmallow.

To, epic new beginnings and terrifying middles. Let’s kick some ass, yeah? I am glad. To have found a friend in you.

Candy for the wise, my friend. Candy for the wise.

----

Gods and goddesses of the vocal world,

Or at least you seem to think that you are. Go spread more rumors. I won’t back down. I’ll still look you in the eye and call you all good-for-nothing pieces of the foulest smelling what-not that rolled down your mother’s toilets.

Somehow, I think that you would be glad.

I think that you would breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that you didn't destroy me.
That I was as strong as you thought I was.
It must have been a comfort, really.

To know every time you knocked me down I popped right back up with my eyes black and my ribs bruised.
I just didn't pop up so fast enough this time. I stayed down in that hole, down in the dust, for a long long long while.

It must have been comforting, in your world that’s tilting out of control, to know that I was always going to pop right back up for another round.

Bring it, daahlings. My dad built me for fights like this.

---

Boogers,

I will end this with you, because it all began, with you.

You have been the highlight of my year. You broke my walls down, exposing my naked, frail body to the public, shattered my heart, and took me for granted, even after I gave you a second chance at redeeming yourself.

This destroyed me, babe. I don’t know how I made it out I swear I don’t. I honestly don’t even remember those two years we built on superstition and make-belief. Let me tell you something though. Love, you mean the world to me, and I never wanted to share you. But I've grown up now. Sharing is caring, after all.

And I thank you. I thank you for making time for me. I thank you for trying your hardest to keep up with my crazy temperament. I thank you for loving me for who I was, for what I was. I thank you for building good, harsh, scary, stubborn memories with me. I thank you for your patience. I thank you for your kindness. I thank you for your heart. I thank you for your love. But, mostly, I thank you for that friendship you tried to offer me, that I’ve still clung on to.

I'm thinking about a cold frozen moment in November.

When I lost it, you held me and told me you'd be there, when you told me you weren’t leaving, when you told me to be strong, when you told me to keep being me, when you told me not to worry. When you told me that you loved me. When you told me to tell you how I felt.

I feel good, love. I’m telling you now. I feel good. And I’m okay.

I'm choking, babe. Nostalgia continues to drown me. But now it’s the good kind. Not the one that sends me spiraling down this pit I built. Now I’m overcome with such happiness, knowing that I have a second chance at getting my best friend back. Because that’s all I’ve ever wanted.

----

World, 

Let’s celebrate your birthday. With new beginnings and strange ends.

To peace.
To happiness. 

To brotherhood.
To love.
To 2012.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Because I WANT to (I must.. -_-) end this year on a positive note. And I think I have. Just published this on Facebook as well. Happy new beginnings, all! :)

Settled.

So I think I'm ready to date.

WHAT?! DID I SAY THAT OUT LOUD?!

Yes, man. For f*ck's sake. Deal with it. When I say this out loud in college, people turn to me and ask me if I'm "sure". WHAT do you mean by "Are you sure?"?! It's like they think that I want to perform open heart surgery with a paper clip and a rubber duck. 

But, (There's ALWAYS a but) here's the thing. I've lost touch. *Poker face.* No, seriously. *Tear rolls down cheek*

Men kind has not been too kind to me ever since I hit puberty. I was the girl, mothers asked their daughters NOT to talk to, because ''all she'd teach you is how to catch chipkalis and climb trees''. (That's right, Mrs. E. I remember. You're the reason I had no 'girl' friends. By the way, I still have the Mercedes emblem that I pulled off your E320.) And because I was christened the tom-boy of the neighborhood, all the boys automatically deemed me their inferior, and HATED my guts. IN short, I had a VERY lonesome childhood. -_-

I tend to stray a lot, don't I?

Do you know what I did the first time I got asked out? I laughed. :| Not because the guy who was asking me out was a clown (Mind you, he was very cute.)  It's because I thought that it was a sick joke. -_- The first time I got kissed? I went into shock for a good half an hour. -_- BASICALLY, it was, and STILL is, VERY strange.

Why have I ''lost touch"? Because I settled down all nice and comfy, in a ''two year relationship'' with that little voice in my head going "Heh. Bitchin'." As in, I got a little too used to not being single. (Makes sense? Makes sense.)  And I didn't expect anything else to happen. OKAY FINE. I didn't WANT to expect anything else.. -_-

But hey, you know what? In a very, VERY long time, I felt butterflies in my stomach, I grinned like an idiot till my face hurt, I walked into walls, (I do that on a regular basis anyway..) and I giggled like a crazy person in the middle of an Economics class. :]

A good group of friends can do wonders. Just like how chocolate and baby tears can save our souls. 

I'm here, half a year later. Standing on my own two feet. Happy. 

And it's November.

Time flies, eh?

I have felt the LEAST creative in the past two months. :| I think it's the increasing amount of dubstep music videos and Sparkles The Frilly Vampire fans. (I honestly keep forgetting his name so I just call him Sparkles now.)


Strange thing happened few days back. I was staring at my Facebook news feed last week and among the array of daily status updates and wall posts about people's lives and their socks, I saw this post which said "I can't seem to lose any more weight..! I totally give up! I feel so fat and ridiculous." I happen to meet this girl on a weekly basis, and she's a swimmer who is in BRILLIANT shape, and she's around 15.

WHAT?

I hate this 'perfect figure' madness. I remember, when I was around 13, my dad told me that dreadful, evil sentence.
"Look at your cousins. They're in shape."
Which, my 13 year old brain automatically translated to "You're FAT."
(I love the man, but sometimes his words still sting.)


I remember shutting down. God, that was so scary, diving into a dark, unknown place. Something, I came to regret. No, I was not anorexic. I was very close to the possibility of it though. I'd avoid eating every time anyone passed judgement. I'd lose the weight, and people would beam at me and say "Wah! How much of weight you've lost, beta! (kiddo in Hindi)" And when I'd put on a little weight, criticisms would follow, and then those frightful demons would line up, in front of my door, banging at it, screaming my imperfections at me, trying to let themselves in.

The longest I hadn't eaten for was three days. Found out that I couldn't fit in a pair of skinny jeans on the 6th of May. I broke that 'fast' on the 9th of May, 2009. Best meal I ever had, best moment I ever had.
Best. Day. EVER. 'Nuff said.

Do my parents know? No, they don't. I don't intend on telling them any time soon. They'll probably stuff me for the next 30 years (Nervous laugh) :|

How did I get away with it? I'd pretend to be stuffed, or make it look like I ate by putting a bit of food on my plate and placing it tactfully in the sink. Sneaky, no? Just like a llama. (TRUST me. Llamas are sneaky. Ask anyone)

I've only just started admitting it to my friends. It feels nice to share. Like after when your foot falls asleep and then wakes up? Ya like THAT. *Grin* ^.^ ( ..okay maybe not so much :| )


No, don't listen to what the world has to say about you. Don't consider the standards society has set because they're ridonkulous. Single out that optimist in you and listen to that voice in your head that says you're perfect. If people say you're fat, tell them that they're ugly and that you can lose weight. That'll show them.

I want to walk up to that girl who posted that status and grab her by the shoulder and give her ONE TIGHT....!

Hug.

At the end of the day, it doesn't matter what you are. It's who you are that counts. (Look at all that cheese. -_- *GodSoCheesy..*)


Now a song to break the awkward tension (This is my llama song. DON'T STEAL IT BECAUSE OF IT'S BRILLIANCE! It's copyrighted. -.-)

I love llamas! Because they're so fluffy!
I love llamas! I think that they're nice!
I love llamas! They eat lots of beans!
Oh no that llama ate your face. :|


LLAMAS RULE! *jump*

Kthnxbai.

Dear Boy Who I Still Do Love.

Dear boy who I still do love,

I'm having one of those moments. Those "Why the hell did I do whatever it was to make you hate me" moments. I know it's been a while but these moments come and go. More than I can take. 

I'm sinking slowly into the quicksand and it seems like you're the only one who can pull me out of here. You're standing at the edge of sand pit and you watch me as I drown, and you're promising me that you will help but that's all you do. And I just continue to sink, half-expecting you to pull me out.

But expecting, none the less.

No. I am not over you. 

Unlike you, I do contain an iota of human compassion in me that strangely pushes me to live for love. And that damned morsel of self-loathing love has latched on to the ghost of you and it just refuses to let go. Like it needs you to survive. To feel something.. To feel alive.

Sudden bouts of rage do overcome me but sooner or later, I succumb to torrents of hurt. Why is it that I can't let go of you the way you let go of me? 

Is it because you PROMISED, we'd work on whatever we have? Oh, apologies... What you thought  we had.

And you still give me hope. You say things, silly little things, which lift me up and leave me grinning like an idiot, like it was the first time I met you. But you don't mean those things.. You never did intend for us to grow. You never thought about what this meant to me. What us meant to me.

I want to walk away from you and never look back because I can't stop hurting but I love you I LOVE you so so SO much, that the sheer THOUGHT of doing something like that is like committing an unforgivable sin. Like I'm killing off a part of me.

Is it so hard for you to see how hurt I am? Can't you see I'm sorry for whatever it was I did to break us apart? I can't go two minutes without thinking about you and then breaking down because I lost the best thing that ever happened to me. I just cannot do this..

I'm mad all the time but I swear I don’t mean to be. I tend to cry at the drop of a hat which is why I hide my only other known weakness with empty rage.

I go to bed, praying, and clinging on hopelessly to your jacket and the will to bring the old you back to me. I go to sleep crying, and I wake up from a dream of being back in your arms, only to realize the gravity of the illusion, and I break down again.

How badly I want us to work at this… Because I KNOW that we’re worth a lot more.

Because I love you endlessly.

Losing you was the harshest thing that’s happened to me. And if I watch you move on with your life from my quicksand pit, it would destroy me. I don’t want to just “stick around”. I want to be yours again.

I’m not telling you not to move on. All I’m asking you is to be human for a change. Turn around and consider the one person who’s loved you for all these years. Flaws and everything. Who called you her best friend even though you never saw it. Who loved you for who you are, not what you are. Who still loves you... Despite what you’ve become.

I know now, for certain, that you don’t care. But I will be patient. I’ll still smile, without a reason and I’ll live, in search of one. But I will wait. Because I believe in love and miracles and magic. Because I know good things happen to those who wait. Because I hope. Because I dream. Because I believe.

And it’s not a sin to dream, right?

Love, from, the girl who still loves you.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This note was previously published on facebook. I still thought I'd share it here again. 

See, the girl's lament was ignored. She will have to suffer in his silence, they said. But she still holds on to that fragile piece of hope, which grows stronger with each of her wishes.

It's a dangerous game she plays. She'll hurt herself all over again. It's sad, they say. 

Very sad... But let her be. Love does strange things to one's heart.

Drug-Talk.

Aaliya, you have to try weed. It opens your mind to so many ideas. It's so liberating... Everything starts making sense, man! I'm telling you, it's just brilliant. You feel so alive and so.. Charged up. It's just so relaxing.. And oh man, the stuff I pen out.. It's just insanity... I've never written so well. I've never thought such deep thoughts. I've never had such amazing ideas and conversations. I've never been this good. I've never felt this alive..

Donkey balls.

What it does to to you is make you feel like something you are not. What? That's a good thing? When is feeling so pathetically low about yourself that you'd do anything to be something you are not, EVER a good thing?! You're not comfortable in your own skin. The drugs help you feel at ease about yourself because of the excessive dopamine released when you reach that "high". It turns you into something grotesque and unnatural. I'd love to go into the science of it but I don't want to hurt your brain. Or what's left of it.

Don't give me that half-baked, diluted crap about the whole "medical-marijuana" or "is being medically prescribed to people" thing or I swear I'll rip your lungs out with my bare hands. Firstly you should know WHY marijuana or any other drug out there is prescribed by doctors in the first place and is considered highly beneficial. It's for people who are in chronic pain or have no appetite or have satiable medical issues. Not for some douchebag who wants to ''feel alive''. I'm sorry but you make yourself sound like a eating a banana would drive you into a wild, frenzied bout of ecstasy. 

And, honey please. Don't give me that "gets my creative juices pumping" thing. I highly doubt Harry Potter was written in a room dense with weed-smoke. Go eat a wild salmon. Omega-3 gets your brain pumping. And a good novel too. All weed does is bless you with an appetite of a starved polar bear. 

Those amazing ideas and concepts that you're coughing out sum up to just about any drunken talk and drug-induced jabber. Talking about how the universe is made up of vibrating strings of energy is NOT a new and blatantly genius topic that you and your ''buds'' spun out last night while passing a joint. I'm pretty sure that chocolate would have the same effect on you, on anyone, actually.

I will type this once, and once ONLY. 

THIS SHIT DOES NOT MAKE YOU POPULAR. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD GET IT INTO YOUR THICK SKULL THAT BEING KNOWN AS A "STONER" DOES NOT ELEVATE YOUR LEVEL OF AWESOMENESS.  It makes you look like a bum with no life.

Relaxes and rejuvenates you? Go take a bath. Eat something. Sleep. THAT, dear idiot, revives the human body. How does an erratic heartbeat relax anyone? 

The pleasure of a kiss, a bowl of favorite ice cream, and a compliment all result in a significant rise in dopamine levels in the normal person's brain. Drugs also boost dopamine levels, yes. But with consequences.

You should, however, know that yes, I do want to give it a whirl. Just because I want to see what the fuss is all about. But ultimately I don't want to even know what the stuff smells like. Because (Cheesy movie moment) I love the real me. The pain in the ass, too ''slow'' in the head, sparingly creative, lil'old me. 

I know that sometime life is being too much of a bitch and is laying out her own set of ugly rules. And I know that it sooner or later becomes too much of a burden. All you really want is to walk away and escape into something else or into some other world. Believe me, I know. But you know what I do when I need to feel alive? I turn up the volume on my iPod and I dance like no one's looking. It's way better than any drug, I'm sure. 

God's honest truth.

Coffee, Chocolate Shots, Rain and Jack Johnson.

YOU.

Good. You're paying attention.

I had a very profound moment today. (My, my, my don't I sound smart)
So.

It's you against the world. 

Let it be known that there is no one else there with you in that pit, hoisting you up. They are, however, leaning over the edge of said pit, and are encouraging you to pull yourself out. 

(Does that make sense? :| Yes? Okay yes.)

YES I sound cynical. YES I sound negative. YES I sound like an emo little piece of lord knows what but it is the truth. It's you and ONLY you against the world.

See, because I speak from experience. Break-ups are bad and god only knows how I STILL suffer but that's why I had this profound moment-thingy. I need to wake up. I need to shoot my demons down (..and in this case it's my ex-boyfriend who grew an extra head and a vagina..) and I need my strength. No one is going to give me that kind of comfort EXCEPT ME. No one is going to clean up my mess except me. I have those set of people who're waving banners bearing my name and shouting words of love and encouragement. But it's up to me to build my strengths on those cheers.

It's me. 

It is ME against the world and it's not a bad thing. It's an added bonus to know that it's all on you. This is my spinach. (Arrgh!!*PirateGrin*) 

And, honest to god opinion, I think everyone's capable of this. And it's everyone's growing strength.

And if it still doesn't get better, just tell me and I'll hire a bunch of ninjas and set them on the loser who ripped your heart out.

Pinky swear.

(Makes sense? Makes sense. Yes yes. *Nods and walks away*)

Jack Johnson is the shizznits, by the by. He's like, a blanky. :3

The FIRST blog. EVAAAAAAR!

But I honestly have nothing to say. :|

It's raining.. If that helps. :3 I honestly don't know why people complain about the rain. It's a thing of beauty and all they (the people) are capable of doing is grumble at it. I mean C'MON. :| It's friggin' cleaning up YOUR mess and YOUR paan ke dhaag and YOUR dog's defecation *blegh..*

I'm not all that entertaining, am I.. :|

Here I am, an organism capable of thought and speech, BURSTING with angst and ideas and what not but ALL I can do is talk about the rain. :|

I think people are more inspired by those damn zoozoo things. -.- Eugh. >:|

WELL this was a TERRIBLE first attempt at a blog post.. Here's to a lot more er.. Failed attempts?

(Insert awkward smile.)