and age piled on

i turned 22 yesterday.
i don't feel any different. apart from massively depressed, i can't feel much at this point of time.
fine, i overdid it with the revelry tonight. fine i paid a bit too much of heed to my ego tonight. but that doesn't justify me being such a glutton for punishment. over and over again.

for some1, who has had a pretty great birthday week, i feel disgusted. with myself, more than anyone else. i really should learn... i really should. from the past wounds and scars and scratches.

but the idiot i am, i keep confusing myself with some exotic phoenix. "rising from the ashes in full bloom" and blah. it doesn't happen. if i had been a slightly more positive person, i it might have worked. the histrionic pleasures might have offered to me some bit of solace. it really doesn't as i clearly am that girl who lives her past... every living moment. its depressive. i think i am a maniacal depression junkie. far removed from what people think of me. i love my shiny happy fits of rage. and i love making myself go through those very processes over and over again.

ha ha ha.

aren't we all trapped behind a mask? sometimes, i think i need to be locked up... and away. in some gloomy whitewashed asylum cell. the only thing that can save me from my mind manipulating me into doing things that somehow end up being wrong. inevitably.

its funny. funnier that the funniest trip i've ever ha. funnier than the flying pig song. funnier than cartman.

this is in no way a vendetta against my friends. they are lovely people. trying to make my world a slightly happier one. they succeed. maybe, they don't. but thats just because i'm such a depression junkie. its worse than bulemia. i love it.

masochist i am.

and guilty too. i shouldn't be.... doing quite a number of things that i am doing now... i've done over the past few days... keep doing over and over again.

momentarily, i was happy. without south park. without weed. without narnia. without excuses.

it was my birthday. i loved the gifts and the booze and the surprises and the cake.

i shall not go out of my way to be mean. but i am back to feeling like the grumbly old lady i usually feel like. maniac. i. i should be 88. not less. thats the only age that justifies my sober state of mind. alone. over gtalk. in my room. far away from prying eyes.

i'm using way to many full-stops. cuz, i know that this is another full-on rant, trying to make me feel better. it is. and its foolish. funny. freaky. frumpy. i alliterated. yay. i should be proud.

my birthday has vanished in a nonmagical poof of dust ball.

i feel lame. lameass.

i shoudn't be shedding tears. not now. i shouldn't be the depression junkie.




soooooo, owing to a completely freaky change in mood, i decide that i am 16. yes. 16. not more, not less. i act like one. a complete idiot. its better. not thinking. being in the perpetual state of mindlessness that i had managed to trap myself into. it was fun. i was fun. i shouldn't allow people to urge/inspire/force me to think. it does terrible things to my ming. for i, am a regular depression junkie.

i have had it. i'm off to cower in a friendly corner and get my mind back in order. i hope, i shall be back soon. i know i shan't delete this blog. but i hope, i get enough affection to come back and write mindlessly amusing rants. not mindfucking ones. especially if they r fucking my mind so bad while i keep fingering the darned keyboard.

screw you guys (yes, if you think u r them, then u r them. i shan't bother explaining who that was for. not now. not ever.). i'm going home. (for a few days)

the world, as we know it... is actually an incredibly nice place... where out of the blue, nice things keeps happening, to people i know!
and for once, i really don't feel grumpy about nice things not happening to me or the like.
i feel tremendously elated as i keep od-ing on all the sweet things in life!

sighhh!!!

shoi

shoi left. for pune. technically, she is still in town, perhaps, at howrah station, waiting for the train to budge and journey towards maharashtra, but, she still is far, from the peach walls, the reddish floors, the blue loo and the friendly banter.

i never thought i would miss her such a lot. not already at least.
its crazy, the way, every little conversation seems to be coming back to me... from class 6 onwards, when we sat next to each other for the first time... she was the pen eating cat... and me the book-eater.. childish wiles thes, and yet, i long to go back, and sit in the very last row, which comprised of those four rickety chairs and desks and giggle while some lame ass teacher taught n class.

its strange... growing up with some-one and then one fin day seeing her one last time before she boards the train for some godforsakencity!

i am not insecure... never for a moment do i feel that she will never call me up or ignore my calls, for i know, wherever we are, we shall be in touch... she had herself told me so while leaving school... and i trust those words. more than a lot of things, people and incidents.






i love shoi. it's slightly late for the realization. i love her. in a strictly non-lesbian way. i love her for all that she has confided in me, for all the wonderful times she has shared with me, for all the times she was there, rock steady and dominating, fishing me out of trouble and even threatening me with dire consequences in order to keep me safe. i love her, for helping me, through thick and thin, sticking by, even when i have been displaying my most difficult behaviour. for years and years, even at her most irritating best, she has been that happy spot in my life which has never let me down.

and finally, i love her, for all the times she has satiated my insatiable appetite when stoned. and i love her, for making me feel like a nice person, even when i have been a really mean pig!

i shall be lonely, tremendously, when i shall b sitting alone in my room, on a random summer afternoon, smoking up. for it was only a few months back that she sat there, with me and smoked and laughed. i shall be lonely when i go to salt lake, for it has been there, that i have spent a great part of the past three years, in and out of loos, in a varying states of stoned delirium, paranoia, hysteria and starvation!

i shall miss her, while making random plans with friends and colleagues. and i shall miss her every time i take a puff of the spliff...

i am selfish, incredibly, and keep hoping that by some stroke of miracle, she comes back... and stays here for good.

i know, such is not about to happen... for the next two years at least... till then, i shall see her ever so seldom, once in every four months and then bug her on various networking sites, till she comes back for yet another vacation.

thus, till november/december/whenever she comes back... she will be much missed.