cool kids never had the time.

You know its been a good day when you cant remember where the time went. Suddenly, you look at the clock that hangs above your computer and realize that its almost six in the morning, and that you should probably be in bed if you want to see daylight the next day. So much worth writing about has happened, but I don’t want to, and I won’t- primarily because I can’t squeeze out words when they don’t exist in my head.

Things are back to normal in the weirdest of ways. ‘Normal’ of course implies a move back to the way things have been. ‘Normal’ however, doesn’t really mean a change towards the good, or an improvement in particular, but just an arrival into known territory. It might not be great, or incredibly desirable, but it is recognized.

And in that recognition I know how to behave and how to react. Where to smile and where to hurt and where to just shut myself away.

We had plans this summer, so many, mainly because it’s the last summer- the last time things are going to be the same before our lives are altered and the only permanence worth trusting will lie in the fact that things will be perpetually changing. But we haven’t done any of those things, we haven’t lived to the fullest, we haven’t made the most of every day.

But it’s ok, because being able to finally touch again after what seems like a decade of numbness is enough for now. I'm not happy, nor sad, im just comfortable.

In this moment and in this skin. In this time and in this place.

And perhaps that’s all we needed, the proof that what we could continue after things that caused us to come about in the first place had changed. We needed that faith in ourselves, that ability to believe that we were a little more than what we made ourselves out to be.
And it is in this truth, in the knowing that there is something worth leaving behind, that there is something that I will miss, that my contentment lies.

Because I can’t move on before resolving the past.

And I will change soon, I will leave and so will the rest of us and things will never be the same.

But we’ll know that there was a time where things weren’t easy but we knew how to deal with them because we were just so used to it by now.

And right now, at dawn, at the end of a day that’s just beginning-

-that’s enough.

For now.

Heaven forbid, I think I might just be smiling.

So completely high on cough medicine that its sad.

Dont ever smoke, it makes you sick and then you'll get delusional and then type out a blog post that is likely to match this one in its stupidity.

Orange juice and toothpaste? Never a good combination.

To bed I go.

Its getting better babe
Its getting better.

(Though by the looks of this fever and weird cough I might just die soon.

Ah, mere details.)

growth.

Ever been in some sort of in between phase?

I'm waiting for my disaster.

I'm waiting for the break down.

But it doesn’t come, the emotions never pile up high enough for them to come crashing down.

I just wait, impatiently.

I know its coming.

Odd numbness, with a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach.

This is new.

I hate it.

(im sorry.)

(I hate it when you do what feels right and it turns out to be catastrophically wrong.)

Let it rain for christs sake.

Let it rain on me.

(im as ready as i'll ever be.)

walking after you.

Don’t look at me, please, don’t stare the way you do, because im trying really hard not to meet your gaze and sooner or later ill run out of things to look at. Right now, im staring at my shoe’s like it’s the most interesting thing in the world, and lets face it love, you can see right through me. You always could, and probably always will be able to.

That must change pronto.

They say that you feel you’re most invisible when you’re surrounded by people, and today I finally understood what that meant. I know, im an ungrateful little bitch, but the thoughts in my mind have settled like stains on a pair of glasses, you just look through them, through the haze, to the picture that you’ve created yourself.

Why is it, that you never adore the people who adore you?
And why is it, that the people you adore never adore you back?

Darling, im not going through tonight again, frankly because I don’t have the strength, nor the will. You take me too close to the core, make me too fragile, and split me open before I can retaliate. I feel unseen, even though I crack all the jokes, make all the sarcastic comments and direct the ebb and flow of the conversation. I'm a poster version of an old movie, a wax doll of a famous person, a smiling figure that looks a bit like a girl that smiled like the sun once. Ive lost it, the charm that got people to look at me twice, i lost it without even wanting it back, or maybe, you took it away from me without me even noticing.

Don’t look at me, don’t read this, this is a weak moment, leave me alone.

This is terrible, I’ve forgotten what feeling like this is like. This, hollowness, this empty yearning for something, this craving for all the wrong things, all the incorrect answers, all the things that will make me tumble and fall and say things that I’ll regret later. Jesus Christ, seems like ive walked in a big circle and instead of actually reaching somewhere, ive just come back to where I started.

And its nobody’s fault but my own.

Stop living in the clouds girl, they are unsteady things, you’ll just fall through like you always have.

And I fell through today. I fell while laughing and singing along to Oasis, all the facades coming back slowly, all the robotic actions coming back like they had never left.

Writing this makes me hate myself.

Yay, self hatred is back.

Ugly.

Uglyhorribleperson.

Wellfuckingdone.

the view from the top.

4-57 in the morning
Plans were made, while four people lay in bed
Driving to the other side of town for company
Going crazy to 'Ari Ari' full with hand movements and shades.
Getting the weirdest looks from other cars when the catch me and you doing dance steps to 'Kajra re'. (Teray kaley kaley naina- bahahah)
Parking at a park, with aunties walking in shalloos, and two weird looking men singing 'aadat' really badly.
Mixing up 'Hill Park' and 'Hilal Park' for what seemed to be the millionth time.
Loosing a shoe, watching it tumble down the hill.
Tossing the other shoe with all my might after realizing that having only one of a pair is pretty damn useless.
Tip toeing back to the car.
Driving in circles, looking for food, our food.
Finding a dhaba, sipping tea from saucers, burning my fingers on paratha.
Being force fed omlette
Eating like kings and paying 74 ruppees for the whole meal.

A girl, three guys, and a morning out in the worlds best city.

P-e-r-f-e-c-t-i-o-n. 

add-ons.

So, theres a new blog in town.

http://www.pkblogs.com/linemaroing

At best, this is an experiment. Plan is to have something new up there everyday. And its only going to be one line long everytime. Lets see if it lasts.

I ask the fellow bloggers if I can quote you guys sometimes.. you know when you guys spit out your wisom :P. Credit will be given obviously, but I completely understand if you have an issue with it.

So well, here it goes.

way.

Oh dear you look so lost

I need music, the right song, the perfect fucking song for this moment. Its pre-planned, destined, fate kismet all that bullshit. There has to be, there is, there must there must.

Open Itunes, Click on Shuffle.

Simple Kind of Life
No Doubt

Not the song, but not a bad song either. I don’t know the words though, and that bugs me. The drums just started up, and my head moves without me noticing, my fingers typing with the beat, orange fingers, lit dimly by two candles and nothing else. Monitor’s blurry, the incense stick is making the pretties patterns, playing off and on the illuminated glass and then fading out eventually. The guitars strumming, acoustic, she sings ‘and all those simple things are simply too complicated for my life.’ Hah, that’s wisdom right there. That’s the thing, no one looks for wisdom in the right places anymore. Wisdom isn’t in dust covered book in the ‘reference’ section in libraries or in epic poetry. Wisdom is here, in song, and for some random reason in the voice of Gwen Stefani.

Song changes, mood changes.

Alone in Kyoto
Air

Has anyone heard this song? It so bare and stripped of any sort of anything that if songs wore clothes this would be stark naked. Its nothing, its three beats, a swelling sort of noise and a woman humming one noise repeatedly. There are no words, none at all, but for some reason there’s honesty. No airs of arrogance, no facades or frills, its just there, without reason or question or wanting of reply. You know those big shells you get? The ones that you can hear the ocean in? Well, if god was planning to give those a little makeover he should make you able to hear this song when you press the shell to your ear. This song reminds me of peace, and not of white doves and retro symbols, but of a purity that I don’t deserve, hell, that this world doesn’t deserve. We shouldn’t be allowed to listen to this song, we aren’t worth it. Its like how in sixth grade we played ‘boy germs’ and if any one touched a boy by mistake they would get it, and would run around passing it to all the girls, making us all cringe as the crazy contagious girl passed on her disease. Our disease, just like that one, is contagious, we’ll pass it on, mutate the clarity and haze it over with a dose of melancholy to boot.

Next Song.
Ah, Rap. Brother has been downloading music on my computer.

Wait
Ying Yang Twins.

Ew, this song is disgusting. And really creepy when your sitting in the dark.
Rap is really sexist.
Jesus Christ this sounds like RAPE.

Moving on

Wonderful Tonight
Eric Clapton

Memories. Childhood and belief and faith all mixed to make a cute fair kid with hair cascading down her back and a smile that was missing two teeth. She smiled anyway, no reason not to. She stared in front of the mirror and squinted her eyes in concentration. She took the hair band off the dresser and slid it over her hair, pushing it up a bit so that a little puffy part came out in the front. She grinned, mission accomplished, now back to trying to flush the spinach down the pot while her maid wasn’t watching. She looked at the door and saw her mom run to her room.

‘Its coming! Its coming!’

No more explanation needed, she clasped on to the hand her mother held out to her and ran to her parents room. She sat on the edge of the bed, right in front of the tv and started singing along. Her favorite song at that time, her moms too.

‘And then she asked me, do I look alright?
And I said my darling, you look wonderful tonight.’

And at that moment, at that moment with the white curtains that filtered through the whitest of light and the feel of the wooden side of the bed beneath her, she truly felt wonderful. There were no self esteem issues, or insecurities, she was too young to know imperfection. She didn’t realize it then, but it was perhaps in those moments that she too felt perfect, and maybe she was. She has changed so much since, god knows what she was when she started out. Back then, there were no what ifs or maybes or self hate or jealousy. Love was a song sung by a guy to a girl, and that’s just how straight forward it was.

The song ended long ago, ive gone through two since, but they were too insignificant to mention.

Next.

Smooth
Santana

Ah, how I adore this song. Love love love love. But then again, seeing that I havnt heard it in ages I guess I cant adore it that bloody much. But ah, the guitar speaks. You wont understand, but it does, that dude singing is just background noise. The guitar has its own story, its own story. Its had his heartbroken, its been there done that, its reached that level of hardness that you reach once you’ve gone through it and know that when it was good it was great, but when it was bad it was horrible. Its indifferent the guitar, it knows better, its tempted to let itself go, but it just wont, it just cant. I think everyone’s been there at some point, you don’t have to have been committed or in love to have your heart broken, hell, sometimes your heartbreaks when your brushing your teeth or blowing a bubble. Really, you don’t even notice most of the time.

Fast forward through all the trance, you cant really write to trance.

What’s my age again?
Blink 182

HAHAHHAA. This song, is awesome. This is a puberty song, when you head banged and sang really loudly with your windows down, your hands in the air, your hair flying everywhere.

fly me to the moon says:
my friends say i should act my age

(this is me randomly typing lyrics)

atrocious says:
yeah dude you really need to act your age
atrocious says:
some times you make too much of an effort not to

Woah. Food for thought. Eighteen. That’s a good age isn’t it? Life starts at eighteen doesn’t it? Legally you’re an adult but this is like official ‘party hard and fuck around’ time. Test your limits, try everything once, dance don’t walk, sing don’t speak, you can still get away with it.
Then, why the urge to be such a bloody aunty? Id like to think of myself as an old soul, but im just boring I think, and blah. Mature? Hah, try mundane.

Party pooper is the word I think.

Oddly short song, last one for the night ladies and gentlemen.

Trying
Lifehouse

I was never a big Lifehouse fan even back in the day when all the girls oo-ed and aa-ed over the lyrics and all the guys made mixed tapes for their ‘chicks’ to woo the girl and get to first base. Ive never been a girly girl. Actually, I guess im just a very unemotional one.
But this song, I fell in love with. He speaks to me, the singer. Heh, guess im still thirteen somewhere, somewhere beneath the air of pseudo intellectual superiority and arrogance. Guess there’s a little bit of ‘oo’ and ‘aa’ left in this senior citizen.
The songs is far from unique, just another soft rock type thing that has a catchy tune. But the lyrics, especially the first three lines get to me every time.


Could you let down your hair
And be transparent for a while
Just a little while?
To see if your human after all

Ok make that four. He’s talking to me, I could swear on it. Sorry Mr lifehouse man, I cant be transparent for anyone. Not you, not anyone. We had a funny conversation about friends today, and reached the conclusion that we had none. Ironic, twelve people who meet everyday and have known each other for years could sit together and say that they have no friends. Funny that they were right, all twelve of them, because truth be told, we’re all too selfish to ever go that extra mile for someone else.
Selfish, and scared.
Have I told you how scared I am? Because I am, so scared that if I make you real ill fall from grace in your eyes. And that’s not pretty, I rather stay the way I am in your head. Not perfect, no where near it, but love-able. And that, that ability for you to love me the way you see me now is something that im not ready to let go off now, or tomorrow or day after. I cant, sometimes that’s all that I have to cling on to.

The songs over, and even though the song hasn’t been found I think this post needs to end now. Its too long, I couldn’t be bothered to read it over and edit, so please excuse typo’s and the like. That, is ofcourse assuming that someone actually bothered to read all of this in the first place.

Ive been too honest with my words, that must stop.

I smile, peer my head out of the car window and look at the sweet parsi woman who was trying to help me out.

‘I know aunty, its just that the house numbers are in no proper order. I'm looking for 47, but they jump straight from 23 to 64.’

‘That’s because you’re on the wrong street, you need to go back to the main road and turn right instead of left.’

‘Oh, I didn’t realize. Thank you so much for your help.’

‘Its no problem, you just needed some direction(s) that’s all.’

:D

why blog about myself when i can blog about my useless friends?

they say things like this, thats why i love them.

" i wonder how cockroaches and lizards talk to eachother! i feel so bad for them..*proudly* but the cockroach in MY bathroom.. hes dam smart he knows im scared so whenever im on the pot he stays away from me "

Breathe darling,

everythings going to be ok.

I have this sudden urge to floss and play Ludo.

Oh well.

water over wine.

You know what sucks? Having a lot of shit going on in your life and having only yourself to blame for all of it.

You're pretty much stuck then.

Im pro at making easy things mindnumbingly difficult.

But more than that, my eyes were drawn to her perfect loveliness. I looked at her, a stranger, and every breath strained to force its way from my chest. A clamp like a tightening fist seized my heart. A voice in my blood said yes, yes yes … The ancient Sanskrit legends speak of a destined love, a karmic connection between souls that are fated to meet and collide and enrapture one another. The legends say that the loved one is instantly recognized because she’s loved in every gesture, every expression of thought, every movement, every sound, and every that prays in her eyes. The legends say that we know her by her wings- the wings that only we can see- and because wanting her kills every other desire of love.
The same legends also carry warnings that such fated love may, sometimes, be the possession and the obsession of one, and only one, of the two souls twinned by destiny. But wisdom, in one sense, is the opposite of love. Love survives in us precisely because it isn’t wise.

Sigh.

After reading this book I never want to write again.

Random Stranger Woman with upper lip hair – ‘So, whens your daughter leaving for university?’

The Father- ‘Oh, next month.’

Isnt next month a bit soon?

Faaaaaaaaaaack

I love how ive conveniently forgotten all about actually attending college.

Naheen Jana.

:S.

...

Its funny when you can see yourself fuck up magnificently but still be indifferent enough not to do anything about it. It’s like I can physically watch myself regret this all later and want to slap myself for being such an ass, but at the same time, im left feeling that maybe this was just the way things were going to end between the three of us.

Here’s hoping that I wake up tomorrow and am a better person.

Here’s knowing that it’s never going to happen.

BLEUGH

Everything hurts.

I hate being sick.

If I throw up once more im going to kill myself.

the reaction to the french victory.

meh = me :D


muzzamil says:
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

muzzamil says:
FFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKK

muzzamil says:
FUCKING SAD ASSS DAY

meh. says:
HOLY SHITTTTTTTTTTT

meh. says:
HOLY FUCKING SHITTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

muzzamil says:
FUCK

meh. says:
FRANCE????????

meh. says:
MUZZZZZZZZZI

meh. says:
FOOTBALL IS CRAZY

meh. says:
I CANNOT TAKE IT ANYMORE TOO MUCH TENSION

muzzamil says:
MAN

muzzamil says:

IM GOING FUCKING CRAZY

meh. says:
you know, french women dont shave their armpits

muzzamil says:
man fuck french women, FUCK FRANCE.

meh. says:
yes thats what im saying

meh. says:
atleast those guys are getting laid by hairy women tonight!

there is always a silver lining in everything :D.