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.

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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.)