Here He Comes!

He kept his woman close to his heart, a dagger on his bedside table.
To be safe.
He needed to be safe.

The whole universe was conspiring against him, or so he thought..

B(lo)ody

I pity those who constantly crib about their body-too fat, too thin etc.

I was very jittery about mine too. After the rape, I spent a good deal of time cutting it, burning it and loathing it. I couldn't stand my body. It felt as though it was scarred beyond repair. There were invisible, irreparable wounds all over it. I felt so ugly. My self confidence was at an all time low. I remember how the kids in my class would go out to play lock and key during the lunch break in school and I would always sit back in the classroom. I'd cook up excuses every time they asked me to join them. They stopped asking after a point of time. I hated my body even more then.I felt angry-why was my body so weak, why was my body not able to fight back?

I hated the male body even more. The only thing that they were good for was causing pain.
It hurt. It hurt like hell.
Like somebody was tearing my body apart.

I used to spend hours in front of the mirror. Staring at my body. Seeing carefully the changes that is was undergoing. When I was 13, I was pretty sure that my body wasn't the same as before. Thus I needed to move on. I needed to stop hating and blaming my body for what had happened to me.

Somehow, it had become super sensitive, extra alert. Any casual touch would set off the alarm. I don't remember when and how that toned down. I guess it was a slow, gradual process. Besides, once the intoxicants started started entering my body, I was no longer so paranoid. I was starting to calm down.

(But that however DOES NOT MEAN THAT I RECOMMEND GETTING HIGH TO SEEK SOLACE. It does not work that way, at all. It had severe consequences in my life)

The decision to start letting other people touch me, kiss me, hug me and make love to me was taken one random afternoon when I came back home from school. It was almost impulsive. I cut off my hair, cut it very short to sort of celebrate and start again from scratch. It was very therapeutic.

I decided to open myself up once again. I was back in sync with my body. Standing naked in front of the mirror was no longer painful.

It's never been since.
There's not a single day that has passed since, when I have not felt beautiful-both inside and out.

Cheap Thoughts, Only A Buck.

I'm phasing out more often than normal these days. I feel perpetually tired. It's like my body and my brain are two separate identities-functioning independently, almost as though they're fighting to prove their superiority over one another.

It's quite the riot.

But all is not dark and gloomy. Isolation is the key to emancipation. You phase out into your personal space-which cannot be invaded by anyone else. The relationship with yourself is the most sacred, all others are shallow and superficial. They are a trap. They curb your freedom. The chain you down.
They make you dependent on an external factor rather than yourself.

What I feel for the monster is a strange mixture of love and hate. While I love how it has changed me as a person-made me braver than the usual, more aware of myself. I hate how I have to try so hard to lead a supposed normal life-something which comes so naturally to most.

Having said that, I am not the only one with a sob story. Everybody has one. It's how well you hide it that matters.

 

bleh

I have started smoking again, after restraining myself for TWO BLOODY YEARS, I'm back to where I started. I feel really guilty but I really can't help it. This ongoing phase is pretty much sucking the life out of me.
I rolled a nice little joint for myself a few nights ago and finished it coolly without an aorta of guilt or shame.

Maybe this is my way of getting back at life. If it's going to be this shitty continually then I might as well end it sooner, one cancer stick at a time. (note: marijuana does not have too many ill-effects on the human body, it's tobacco that does)

I don't know why things are not working out for me. I have always been a believer in karma. I have always justified all the drama in my life by telling myself that it'll pass and lead me to a better future. But when will that 'better future' become the present?
I've lived for 20 years now and I'm sorry to say that the past 8 years have been extremely cruel to me for some reason or the other. It's not fair. I know, despite all my ramblings I do have a life better than many others so I shouldn't really crib, but the problem is there seems to be no end to my so-called misery.

I get past one obstacle and another one comes and hits me in the face.

I have stopped feeling sad and depressed. It's almost comical and amusing now. How bad could it possibly get from this point?!

Fate, seriously, stop picking on me.
It's high time that you did.
Why don't you pick on someone else instead, there are so many others like me out there!

Urban Disconnect

It's like I have a talent for putting my heart and soul into all the wrong things, the wrong places and the wrong people. As a result of which my faith in humanity gets shattered from time to time. Over and over again.

The last couple of weeks have been excruciating  for me. But I won't complain anymore. There's nobody who will listen anyway.

God's unwanted child.
Lonely as hell.

So I walk.
Away from this wretched city.
Away from my pain.
Away from myself.

I've walked too far away to come back home.
I've walked away, again...

Sweet Song- Blur

"I'm a darkened soul
My street's all pop music and gold
Our lives are on TV
You switch off and try to sleep
People get so lonely..." -Blur


I dream the same dream every night now. I've never felt so lost ever before in my life. I wish there was a sign-to show me the way. I've never felt this confused.
The memories are starting to fade. Disappearing bit by bit.

But they haven't gone away just yet. All it takes is one push, everything goes back into rewind mode again.

I remember the intensity in Monster's eyes. The colour of the shirt he wore. His flawless body. How amused he seemed. Yet determined.
I remember words. Stray actions. But nothing else.
Of the most twisted sexual encounter of my life.

Abuse is a mental thing.
The body heals in no time. The brain, unfortunately, isn't all that naive.


"It takes time to see what you have done
So I wean myself off slowly..."


And despite all the things that Monster made me go through, I still wish him well. I hope he leads a good life.


Some part of me wants to be 12 and do it all over again. I don't know why. Maybe because I am damaged beyond repair.
This isn't who I have become. This is who I am.


"But I hope I see the good in you come back again
I just believed in you..."

Maroon, Macaroon

I miss being a bitchy-bitch at times. If there's one thing that all this unnecessary aging is instilling in me, is to be sort of passive to all that is hurled my way. It's strange how all the noise doesn't bother me anymore. All the whispers seem to come from down below-all the more reason why I don't even pretend to get agitated anymore.

I have recurring dreams of the monster sometimes. That is the only thing that scares me. What if I meet him again? Do I have the strength to not break down if I do?

I have been sober for too damn long. I've been acting responsible for too damn long. I've been working too damn hard.
I need to loosen up.
I deserve a break.

Bring out the hashish.
It's high time that I bake a batch of brownies.

Happy And Gay

I was watching an episode of Roadies today, yes, ROADIES, (please don't judge me for it) and I was quite taken aback by their views on homosexuality in India and in general. I didn't quite expect them to speak out in favour of homosexuality so openly, to be very honest. It was very bittersweet. While I really appreciate the producers' (they are also the judges and the hosts of the show) sensitivity towards people with alternate sexualities and the effort that they made in trying to propagate the fact that THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH BEING GAY, LESBIAN, BISEXUAL OR TRANSGENDERED, I felt extremely sad at the same time as I watched them interview a candidate who was gay. Why does someone's sexuality become a matter of concern to others in a reality show based on adventures on a bike, how is it even relevant?
Why should the fact that someone is gay or not matter so much to others. We never give a second thought when it comes to accepting straight people in our lives, but why this sudden paranoia when it comes to the LGBT community?
Sadly this ignorance has nothing to do with education. A lot of so called "educated" people still think that being gay is a "disease" or a choice that one consciously makes and can thus be undone by a visit to a shrink.
It's really very sad. I feel disgusted by such ignorance around me. But sadly, people are so obstinate that it's very difficult to make them see the real side of the story.

I often wonder what it would have been like if the person that I am in love with was a woman. Would people treat me as nonchalantly as they do now or shun me like an outcaste, an untouchable? A woman can please me as much as a man can. I don't differentiate between the two. The are both equal to me. Yes, I AM BISEXUAL and if you have a problem with that, well, then you're the one who should change your mindset. There is nothing wrong with me, the problem lies with you.

This contestant on Roadies (whose name, face etc were blurred for privacy) was speaking on behalf of not just himself, but a lot of people and it was so painful to watch. It's so sad how he kept apologizing to his parents for letting them down, ruining their reputation. Why? Because he is gay. Isn't that pathetic? I can't even imagine the trauma that he has to live with, like it's his fault. 

Educate yourself, world.
Don't be so prejudiced, without knowledge.
Today you point your fingers at them, tell them that they don't belong.
Tomorrow, somebody else's definition of an outcaste might just be you!

I Think I'm Dumb

I didn't kill myself like I thought I would. Just been getting high at every given opportunity.
Fuck everything. I enjoy living in solitude anyway.

It's been about 7-8 years since I first started listening to Nirvana. In Utero will always be my favourite album, no matter what. I love them so much it hurts!

"Haters Gonna Hate!"

I have recently discovered that negativity sort of keeps me going and it somehow makes me feel superior than most of the mindless and  alarmingly shallow people that throng this city. I don't mean to offend anybody by saying this but my blog has two very distinct kind of readers-those who enjoy reading what I write and (probably) find inspiration from this and those who stalk because they love to hate me.

Honestly, I don't give a fuck about the latter. It's ironic how people like these act like such heroes in the virtual world-ganging up against someone, spreading hate for no apparent reason. But look a them in real life-so desperate for their 15 seconds of fame. Such incredibly boring and vacant people. I could almost feel sorry for them.
It's amazing how people talk about my private life incessantly. It's even more amazing when they choose public platforms and social networking sites to do so. It used to bother me earlier. But I've been fortunate enough to have collected snippets of advice and wisdom from some of my seniors, all of who have unanimously told me that the more people hate on you for no apparent reason, the more they are jealous of you for achievements they haven't experienced. So anyway, let them dwell in their negativity. I have enough positive vibrations within me to keep going.

Those of you who read this and somehow draw strength from it. Well, it's a two way thing, you make me strong as well. You push me to keep going and I would like to thank all of you for forcing me to get back here. Your feedback is very valuable to me.
The only piece of advice that I can offer, is that you need to love yourself. Everything else will follow suite. Try and love yourself. It's may be a very hard thing to do, but it's not impossible either. I've been trying to start loving myself unconditionally recently. It's a long road, but I know I'll get there someday!

I deleted my facebook account today. One step closer to the edge. I'm hanging on for the simple reason that the two people who gave birth to me will have nothing to fall back on without me around.
I'm not a coward. I just don't belong. So I give up trying to.

My apologies. My sincere apologies.

This will be my last blogpost for a while. I need some time out.
Goodbye.

I feel so empty, so hollow. I have no dreams, no aspirations. I have nothing to look forward to.

Self Hate. Hate Shelf.

It's very hard to love somebody else if you don't love yourself. It's very tough to love yourself, unconditionally. Is it even possible to love yourself unconditionally?
Not be content, but love yourself.
Will I ever?

I feel so incredibly lost at times, here I am, living the outgrown teenage dream, but what the fuck am I really doing? Is getting a degree, filling my head up with random knowledge about inconsequential things and subsequently finding a job that won't make me tear my hair out every morning, all that there is to life?
Why has my will to question, to think started to diminish? I am starting to conform to mediocrity and it's killing me. I can't go up on stage without a drink to calm my nerves these days. This, mind you, has nothing to do with the audience, but that nagging voice inside my head which is continually reminding me that I am starting to become a sell-out. I hate the road that I am going down. The worst part is that I chose, nobody forced me to.

I wish I were a little less harsh on myself at times, a little less critical. I wish I could loosen up like most people my age. I need a holiday, real bad. Either that or some really strong substance to trip on and drain the pessimism from my head, even if it's only for a while.

Stuff My Dreams Are Made Of

A lazy winter afternoon. Short stories by D.H. Lawrence. Vivaldi's Concerto I, Spring Allegro. Venus In Furs. Scotch.

cut to, an idle winter evening. The Bell Jar. Trainspotting. Marijuana. Fear And Loathing at Las Vegas. steamed momos. The Little Prince

Winter night. Jack and coke. The Who. Led Zeppelin. Yellow Submarine. The Adventures of Alice In Wonderland.

:)

I Lie. Sometimes.

I was going through some of my posts in the past, only to start laughing. I lied. A lot of times. Just to make a few people concerned happy.
The truth is I never really loved, say, my ex boyfriend or any of the people I had a fling with. I'm sorry, but I guess I never let them understand because I pretended to so well.
I can be horribly manipulative at times. At all times, when I've been pretending to be the lamb, I've actually been a lion, waiting patiently for my prey to fall into my trap. I may have used some people to fulfill my own needs, told them everything they've wanted to hear and convinced them a cent percent that I am addicted to them. But like all humans, I lied. I lied well. Covered all my tracks like a serial killer. Not even for a moment did I deviate from the character that I was projecting myself to be. I was an actor. A damn good one that too. I am not ashamed. I don't have an aorta of regret in me for playing with them.
But to be fair, I only played around with those who had the same intentions towards me. So that sort of makes me a less of a bitch now, doesn't it? If men can play, women can too. Let's not forget that there is nothing more dangerous in the world than the fury of a wronged woman.
I feel a little lighter now that I have confessed.

Anyway, before anyone starts pointing fingers at my current relationship, let me tell you a secret. The reason why we're going so strong despite all the mud slung at us initially, is because we're in it for the real deal, the 'l' word and not because of fame, money, power etc.

Cheers!

Oh dear life!

Monday to Friday- Absolut with cranberry juice. Just one large drink.
Saturday and Sunday- Either the same or some JD with coke. One maybe two large ones, depending on how much money I can afford to spend.

Oh dear lord, are these early signs that point straight towards alcoholism?

This. That. Monster. Etc.

Realisation dawned upon me like a slap in the face a while ago. I just realised that the incredibly masochistic pattern that I underwent for years now was because of the monster. My theory is that I still haven't been able to resolve the conflicts in my head. So all this while, I was subconsciously punishing myself by purposely picking out people who resembled the monster in some way or the other and letting them destroy my sense of self worth. I'm not saying that this holds true for everybody, but most people,yes. I have purposely stifled my intuition in the past, as a result of which I have been able to break the cycle only recently.
The trauma of abuse is one that doesn't go away easily, if at all. I am still waiting for the day when it stops affecting me. Many would think of me as a sissy, who needs to "grow up and get over it". I wish it were that simple, I really wish it were.

But no matter how complicated (or rather fucked up) my thoughts can get, one thing that I know for sure is that I'm a survivor. I will hold my head high no matter what. Nothing can break me again. I'm no longer 12 years old, nobody can hurt me without my consent anymore. You know why?
Because I love myself too much to break again. I have a two very loving and understanding parents. A boy who loves me no less even on my worst days and a whole lot of other things to fall back on.

So hurl your obstacles at me, world. I will survive.

Grandma

Since when did I start to grow so old? I always pictured myself as the fire that would never go out, but I guess I was wrong, I am not as deep as I think of myself to be-just somebody who's bored out of their wits.

Or maybe it's a bad case of an identity crisis, since I'm no longer a girl and yet I HATE to consider myself a woman just yet, for I lack the basic etiquette.
When was it exactly that I traded my jeans for a dress,
my chucks for 6 inch heels
and my natural vigour for a heavily pancaked face?
Was it recently or too long ago?
Can I go back to the point when the mess was made and do it all over again?




I need a stiff drink to calm these overtly hyper nerves.
But I only drink scotch these days, tsk tsk!


PS-I bought myself a guitar on Monday. A Fender acoustic. Had almost bought a Takamine, but I guess the Fender was written in my destiny, here's a stock photo of the one I got. Needless to say, it's beauty is such that  I just can't seem to put it down. I have this annoying urge to continually play it. So I guess all IS well.

(pic courtesy the Fender website. http://www.fender.com/)
This is a CD-60. A few months later, when I have some money, will add Fishman pickups to this, or atleast that is what the current plan is!)