Wait, What?

I just realized that I have been in a normal, loving heterosexual relationship for so long that I've nearly forgotten what it's like to be with a woman. Don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with my current situation but it's just that men are too damn different from women. The yin can never be same as the yang!

Raw Meat

I realized today that I don't wear large, dangling earrings anymore. I used to have a huge collection when I was younger, but I've tucked them away into a box since.

I remember wearing my favourite pair when he came over to my place for the first time. I tried to dress my best and by best, I mean jeans, a t-shirt with a cool (read corny, I didn't realize back then!) slogan and cheap jewelry- the best a 12 year old can come up with. I washed my hair. Shaved my legs for the first time and wore my mother's perfume. I was nervous as he sat on my bed. I felt so tiny and insignificant sitting there next to him. I felt unsure of myself. I was clumsy and fidgety. 

I was playing with my earrings.

He told me that he liked them. He nibbled my ears. 

I was scared stiff. My vulnerability showed. He understood. He understood well.

I don't remember what happened after that as clearly as I used to anymore. I seem to have deliberately blocked out a large chunk of those memories, but sometimes a scene or two appear in a flash and I'm back to being the 12 year old wreck that I was.

I understand now why I find it so hard to give myself completely to others-be it family, friends or lovers. I always hold back just a little even though I don't want to. I don't think I can trust another person completely after what I've been through. I'm sorry that people around me have to put up with a lot of things that they wouldn't have to with other "normal" people, but I guess it's just the way I am, not the way I've become.

I've been hiding under a cloak of false bravado for so long now that I've forgotten what it's like to completely let go and trust another person to not hurt me like I've been hurt before-physically, but more importantly, mentally.

I've been hit, shamed and physically assaulted in the past, but it has never mattered because I've never let it get to me. It was my choice to be with people who clearly weren't nice human beings. But why did I chose them over others? 

To show him that I'm strong and nothing can break me.

To show him that I'm not a 12 year old anymore. I am aware of what a bad place the world can be for girls like me and that I choose to be victimized and nobody does anything to me against my will. Anymore.

I still wonder what I would do if I were to meet him again someday. Would he still see the vulnerability in me like he did nearly 10 years ago? Because I know that he, only he, the one person in the world, will still be able to make me feel that way. Scared. Unsure. Stupid. Ugly. But more importantly, just a silly little child who is clearly too big for her boots.

Trauma can be a funny thing, you never know what can trigger it. I found those earrings a while back and I'm wearing them as I write this.

But can I wear it outside, in front of others?

I'm not that strong yet.

We Never Change

Change is the only thing that's constant they say. But I don't think that's true. Humans are incapable of change. They may walk down a different road or two, they always come back to where they started from. We never change. We only keep running in this elaborately created circle which gives us the illusion that we are moving forward somewhere, with each passing day.
I wish I could be a writer, I'm jealous of the kind who can describe the exact things they feel, through words. I can't. I just lose the plot halfway through...much like this post.

Anyway, I've deviated far too much to get back to what I wanted to talk about in the first place. I've gone back to writing my journal like I used to, penning down my thoughts helps me from going crazy somehow. I think I really am losing my mind.

I've been depressed for weeks and weeks at a stretch now. Nothing makes me happy. Good times come and they go, but I can't seem to hold on to any.

I am sad and I don't know why.

Butterflies in my stomach

and a bunny rabbit on my bed.

I wish I could trade my life with yours instead.

Anger (Mis)Management

I pop a pill or two to feel calm once in a while.

But they don't seem to work no more.

What am I to do when my dreams are dying?

I ingest pegs of whiskey too many, too few.

But they don't get me high no more.

How much more can I do when I'm already trying?

Come and take away my sense of pride.

Come and take away my reason to stay alive.

Come and devour my body, rip it into pieces.

Like you always do with my head.

"If That Day Comes, I Know We Can Win"

Down in the gutter where everything looks fancy,

we live our whole lives.

We live in a box.

We run in circles.

Only to lose it all in the end.

Down in the gutter where everything looks fancy,

he is the king and she is the queen.

But they live in a room of mirrors.

They call it their 'followers'.

Oh, the mediocrity.

Oh, the hypocrisy.

Wearing a different mask for each day of the week.

For people in the gutter need something to talk about too.

Love As Straight As Your Sexuality.

Nobody likes bisexuals. We're much like the bats from the birds and animals story, we don't belong to the straight club and neither do we fit into the gay club. It's a little depressing to think that our sexual preference often makes us come across as promiscuous and hence loose. I've heard enough jokes made both in front of me as well as behind my back to know that the ridicule has to be taken with a pinch of salt.

But what I don't get is why straight people have to be such homophobic assholes. If we don't judge you for your narrow-mindedness and your bogus notions of perversion and sin, then why do you judge us for who we choose to love?
I'm lucky that I've been able to partially come out of the closet (I say partially because I accept myself for who I am but having said that, I don't let my sexual preference be the only thing that defines who I am) but not everyone is as privileged. I don't get why some people have to be such cowards. If you happen to be a boy and like cock or a girl and like pussy, who the fuck cares? How the fuck does it even matter what someone ELSE thinks about YOU?

Please don't let judge-y judges dictate and impose what they think is acceptable in this society and suppress who you are.
Please don't think of yourself as abnormal just because you're not "like everyone else"

Fuck everyone else.
They don't matter.
People will hate on you without reason anyway.

Love whoever the fuck you want to.
Love them regardless of their gender.
If you want to dress like a man, do so.
If you want to dress like a woman, go ahead.
Nobody has the right to make you confirm.
Our notions of gender roles are so primitive, so schizophrenic.
Fuck what society expects of you.

If you want to bat for both teams, go ahead man.
Like the joke goes, it doubles your chances for a date on a saturday night!

What Would Brian Kinney Do?

Chin up, soldier.
Don't let what they say bring you down.
It's your battle, not theirs anyway!

Fuck This City

Not dying, but dead.

This city, my city.

My whole life.

Ugly faces, uglier souls.

No ambition, no aspiration.

Time passes by like a chore.

Uninspiring.

Corrupt.

Banal.

Mediocre minds living in a bubble.

Trying to bring down whoever dares to rise.

Inconsequential.

This city, my city.

My home.

Beady Eyes

I was fucking you when I was with someone.
I was fucking you when I was with the next one.
I was fucking you even though we both knew that it was immoral and a sin.

We made out in dirty public restrooms, taxis, random rooftops and poorly lit roads that led to nowhere.
We shared secrets that you have taken with you to your grave.

I don't miss you because I miss you.
I only think of you because I know that I can never have you again..

Why So Fictitious?

Brian Kinney, Queer As Folk

Chuck Bass, Gossip Girl

Jonny Quest, The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest

Donald Draper, Mad Men

Jessica Day, New Girl

Debra Morgan, Dexter

Justin Taylor, Queer As Folk

Marnie Michaels, Girls

Jackson Braddock, Desperate Housewives.

Okay, forget about the last one, I only added it because I was looking for an excuse to add another Gale Harold picture to the list.

Lovesong

I love you more than I love myself.

But I lie so well.

I lie so well.

And I don't know how to make it stop.

I need you more than I need myself.

But I lie so well.

Oh, I lie so well.

And I've managed to fool everybody.

I want you.

I want to be with you.

I want you to want me.

One more time.

Just to refresh the memory.

I've been obsessing about you for far too long.

But I never had you.

You never gave yourself to me completely.

I'm tired of waiting for you to come back.

I need to move on now.

I need to crawl back into my shell.

And only come out when I start my next life...

Big Long Now

What charm.
What grace.
What a man.
What a mighty good man.
But let me open your can of worms tonight, please.

Lay down beside me like you did so many years ago.
Whisper all those marvelous things into my ear.
Make me nervous.
Make me beg.
But most importantly, don't come before I do...

Self Service

I admire people who can successfully get off  on their own. A lot of people find it appalling, but I, for one am quite jealous of those who can pleasure themselves, climax without being dependent on someone else. Human beings have this constant need to be in a group or with someone else.
We eat, for ourselves.
We shit, for ourselves.
So why can't we masturbate to please ourselves? What is so abnormal about it?

What is abnormal, is the constant need to molest and rape.
What is abnormal, is pedophilia.
What is abnormal, is how people are okay with rape but not with masturbation in this country.

I wish I was asexual sometimes. That is how I am expected to portray myself infront of others anyway. Or else I might just get raped. Again!

Secrets

I swore to myself that I'd stay off the glue.
And never think of all those days.
Dark days.
Promiscuous misadventures.
Painting the town red.
Waking up in the morning with no recollection of the previous night.

....what a life that was...

Queer As...

When sleeping forever seems like a distant dream, I go back to my chemically induced thoughts and ideas.
Everything works in a loop and I'm just a shadow of who I used to be.
The shadow keeps getting faint.
So transparent.

I hate dreaming, it only leads to heartbreak.
And pain.
Agony.

Happy new year to me.
Another year gone by, reminding me of what a failure I am.
I've failed.
At pretty much everything I have tried to do.
And it's because I don't love myself enough.
I don't think of myself as someone worthy of happiness.

I've been a bad person.
I will continue to be so.
But I've also been a good person sometimes.
Many times.
Where did that get me?

Fuck you for trying to bring me down.
Fuck you for making me feel like dirt.
Fuck you for corrupting my notions of love and life.
Fuck you for ruining my life.

It still hurts.
Just like the first time.
Another year gone by but the memories haven't  faded yet.

Innocent kisses.
The feeling of helplessness.
False bravado.
Secret tears.
Semen.
Semen.
Semen.
And most importantly, so much pain...

I'm so tired of the hurt that memories still cause.
I'm tired of putting up a brave face everyday and going about pretending like nothing's wrong.
I'm so tired of resorting to other people and other things to make everything better.
I'm just so tired.
I wish I could go to bed tonight and never wake up....I wish I could sleep forever....

Pimri

I miss people who don't even exist anymore.
I miss their company.
I miss his company to be more specific.

People would say that I am still mourning his death.
I hope I am too.
I want to move on so badly but I just can't seem to get myself to do so.

I close my eyes and there he is, smiling at me, comforting me.
I can hear his soft, soothing voice.
I can feel him.
But I know that he's not here, he never will be here for me anymore.

There won't be anymore dirty secrets to keep.
There won't be anymore life-changing conversations.
There won't be anymore innocent confessions of love.
There won't be anymore afternoons of lust.
And bliss.
And pain.
And momentary togetherness.

It's not him that's dead but a part of me that's gone. Forever.

I feel so incredibly disillusioned these days.
I contemplate suicide from time to time knowing fully well that I am not as selfish as him, I can never be.
I care about my parents too much.
It would be heartbreaking to put them through so much pain.
And honestly, that's the only thing that stops me from killing myself.

It's so painful to live everyday feeling so dead inside.
I have nothing to look forward to, no dreams, no aspirations and no hope.
I don't know why but I've given up.

This mundane middle-class, mindless existence tires me so so much.
I don't want better things in life.
I don't want love.
I don't want happiness.

I just want to make an exit and hopefully never return, is that too much to ask for?

"tor bari giye bhoot kore asbo..and finish that long,forsaken desire"

 I love you too . I really do. There, I've said it!

Chemical Burns

I took a step back.
I took two steps back.
I took three steps back.
And I reached the exact same spot that I had started from.

He watched as I made one mistake after another.
He did not say a word.
He enjoyed the spectacle.
He'd never stop saying things that would make me doubt myself.

I bled.
I bled.
I bled.
As I lay on the floor, thinking that I was probably dying.

Big, strong words.
Big, strong hands.
Tiny sense of self.

You put me under your spell.
Oh, you played the game so darn well.
But I was too young to comprehend what the consequences would be.

What a mess.
What a mess.
What a mess.
I had to clean it all up.