The D-Word

I woke up on the floor with no memory of what had happened and how I got there. Seemed like I had passed out while fixing myself a snack. Well dinner at 3am, actually. I helped myself get up, go downstairs and curl into bed. In-between trying very hard not to lose consciousness again in the process, I realised that this was what my life was always going to be-helping myself get back on my feet every time I fall. I have no one and no one has me.

I really wanted to get away from this city after I was done recording the album. I really wanted to clear my head after what was one of the most intense weeks of my life. But recording is an expensive process and even more so when you don't have a sponsor and neither are your parents rich and influential. I (we actually, not me alone) spent whatever little money I had saved. So I'm stuck here with a million little things in my head, which is making me go crazy.

My depression has been quite uncontrollable for the last week. I just want this phase to get over so badly. I hate bothering to tell people about my depression because very few people take it seriously. Depression is not a feeling, it's a disease that eats away every cell in your body as time passes. "My boyfriend forgot our 5-month anniversary, I'm so depressed"-no you're not depressed, you're just upset. I hate how loosely people throw around the word like they really know what it feels like to be depressed.

There are times when I don't leave my room for days at a stretch. I cut myself off from the outside world. I don't talk to anybody. I don't eat. I don't shower. I just lay in my bed praying for the day to get over. Until I wake up the next day and it's just the same, no better. I don't know why I am so incredibly sad. I cry and cry for hours when no one's around and yet I feel no better. Every morning has a fresh start they say, but all my mornings are the same. It's just crying against the pillow for no apparent reason and then going back to sleep again.
Sleep it out, sleep it out, I tell myself. But it doesn't work. I try writing new material, but my voice chokes as I try to sing.

I remember my self-mutilation phase when I was 15ish, I'd take a blade and make incisions on my skin just to stop feeling all the pain that I felt in my heart. But I was never one of those teenagers slashing away just to get some attention. I'd keep my scars a secret, in places which you wouldn't notice at first. I can't do the same now. I feel like I still owe my body some mercy for what I've put it through all these years.

The worst part of depression is that it makes you forget all the good things about you, around you. The melancholy overpowers whatever little good thing you have going on in your life. I know I should feel lucky to be where I am today, but I can't help but feel like all that motivational self-talk is just bullshit.

I know I can get through this. I have been through this feeling so many times before. It's just that I'm growing older as everyday passes and the struggle to be happy is just getting harder with every fit.

I want to fast-forward to the future when I'm with someone who understands my depression and loves me inspite of it. I can be quite adorable otherwise. I promise. Although my depression hangs over me like the shadow of death. I want to be able to share my grief with someone, anyone. That's all I want from life sometimes.
I guess that's why I always end up making the worst possible choices when it comes to relationships. I think I give my heart away too soon every time, make love with all the passion that I have inside me only to be greatly disappointed by the big void that nobody seems to be able to fill. The fault lies in me, maybe I'm too needy, too hopeful that someone will fix my depression for me someday. Maybe I have to do it on my own-get over it and not let it get to me instead.

I have lived for days at a stretch without any human contact. I have literally not spoken to another soul for days at a stretch at one point. That was the lowest I have ever sunk. This time it sure feels like a close second. I wonder what difference it would make to other people if I didn't exist at all. Would they notice at all? Would they care? Would they remember my face and remember all the seemingly good things about me?

All the calls I get on my phone are either work-related or people calling to talk about themselves. Nobody wants to hear my story so I tell no one anything. People on social networking sites make witty comments and logical arguments every time I post anything and yet none of them know me. Or maybe I should say none of them have any idea what really goes on in my head, who I really am.


"I am fine. I am good" that's what I tell the world bravely,even though I feel like I've been broken into a million little pieces. I really don't know how to fix this on my own. Therapy's not helping either. Like I said before, maybe this will what my life will always be like. A strong, confident person to the outside world who'd drop everything to help someone else out, but irreparably damaged inside. Only I know how hard is to be suffering from a disorder which no one else seems to understand.

Anyway, why am I even writing this? Does anybody even read this anymore?

Goodnight cruel world.

Delay lay lay lay

It's a hundred times more exhausting to be a full-time musician than just a student and a part-time one. As you may or may not know (does anybody read this these days anyway?) the action has now shifted to a new tumblr, but I prefer NOT talking about love, relationships and strange men. It's a whole lot of trying-to-be-inspiring bullshit by someone who's just started out and has no idea what the future has in store.
Anway, it's suyashasen.tumblr.com

I shall be back in this space once my music has been recorded and has been polished to perfection. Till then, I guess it's going to be a long period of being dormant.

Keepin The Faith

In due time, destiny will reward those who carry on despite all the great depressions that are hurled at them. The game is not to be won, it is to be lived.
This is my time to shine, to rise, to create, to teach and above all, this is my time to inspire...


My destiny is to live, it is to shine.
I was born to do this.
I was born to try.
I'm meant for bigger things.
I often forget that's not a lie.


Change my heart again
Change my soul again
Change my mind again
Change the road again
And I'll let it go

Change my love again
Change my clothes again
Change my life again
Change my home again
And I'll let it go.

I deactivated my facebook profile again.
I deleted apps like Whatsapp from my phone.
I don't intend to take most phone calls.

I want to sink into oblivion and never resurface.
Or maybe I want to go away forever.
I don't know.
Would anybody even care?

Ex Boyfriend

"you guys should get back together"
"you should hook up with someone else"
"you look miserable, are you alright?"

They flocked around you day and night.
Wishing you luck, wishing you well.
They gave you advice, shared anecdotes.

But nobody asked me how I was.
Nobody cared to find out if I was hurting too.

I was.
But it's not like it mattered to anybody else anyway.

All these years of knowing me, you know how bad my depression can get when I lose control of it.
But it doesn't matter to you anymore.
You don't have to care about me now, I am no longer your responsibility.

I stood alone.
Among all those people.
Not one soul cared.
It hurts to feel so unwanted.
Like vermin.
Am I vermin?
Am I that insignificant?
Maybe I am.
I was just over estimating myself.
Nothing good can ever happen to someone as horrible as me anyway.

I am sorry I have been such a burden on you.
I am sorry for thinking that you were my friend.
But I guess I was wrong, the friendship ended along with the relationship. I should have known better.

Back to square one, back to being all alone.
I can count my friends on my fingers because the numbers are so few.
That's okay.
Not everyone is lucky to find somebody.
Maybe I'll land up all alone in the future.
That's okay.
No need to cry about it.
Or maybe I could look myself up in my room and cry a little bit.
What other choice do I have when I can't dream anymore?

Criminals

As most people my age spend their time these days, I was browsing my newsfeed on facebook when a picture of you popped up. You looked good, beautiful as always.
You've grown your hair out and you seem to have put on a little weight, you still look as gorgeous, but your eyes seemed so tired and so sad.
I miss your tender embrace at times.
You said you'd love me like no other and you did.
I miss speaking to you, holding you, running my hands down your body.
But I loathe you for making me not want to fall in love with a woman ever again.

Things would have turned out so differently if we'd still been together, if you had made up your mind once and for all. We were so happy at one point of time in life, lost in each other and completely oblivious to the homophobic world around us.
But there's no point in dwelling in the past now and I've learnt it the hard way.

I still feel as empty and lost as I did before.
I have seldom felt so lonely and hopeless.
This is quite possibly the worst phase in my life where nothing seems to make sense and everything seems to go all wrong.
I am all alone and I wish you were here, to comfort me and tell me that everything's going to be fine one day.

There was a time when spending even a day without seeing each other would turn our worlds upside-down. I am not being needy though, I am just overwhelmed by how we've become total strangers to each other now.


With a broken heart in dire need of mending and no particular purpose in life, I wonder if you miss me sometimes or even think of me at all...

People's fascination with my love-life makes me feel like such a local celebrity at times.
"is she sleeping with him?"
"did they break up?"
"did you see her with that French dude?"
"I heard she was chatting up that girl the other day"

oh man.
Thank you for adding fuel to my narcissism and making me feel like some kind of a sex-goddess.

There are days, like today for instance, when I feel like tripping on mdma and listen to Bonobo all day.

I miss the anonymity that Delhi had to offer. It was so much easier to do so many wild/crazy things without having to think of the consequences it would have on my "image".

But then again, no vacation is permanent!

Think Things Through

He claimed he was in love.

He claimed she was the one.

He ate into her head.

He said he was sorry.

He said he'll be a better man.

Just to bite into her skin.

Dishonesty.

Cruelty.

So many vices, but these the worst.

I broke down.

I cried.

I poured my heart out to a stranger who I thought was my friend.

But I was merely a trophy. Again.

I may be strong but I hurt too.

My ego does not permit me to be with someone who openly eyes others when with me.

And talk about others with lust filled in his heart.

I may not say anything.

But I observe quite well.

I won't be taken for a ride with your fake concern anymore.

Excess

Tell me everything, tell me all the things I don't want to hear.
Tell me.
Whisper them into my ears or scream them out loud.
I'm listening.

I have so many questions to ask.

Did you kiss her the way you kiss me?
Did she make you cry when she went down on you?
Did you fuck her like an animal like you do to me?

Did you leave marks on her body that wouldn't go away for weeks as well?
Did you grab her, turn her over and fuck her like you do with me?

Is her face plastered on mine when you make love to me?
Is she still the one you dream about having a future together with?

Tell me.
Tell me everything.
Tell me everything I'd rather not know.


Did she hold back her tears when you raised your hand on her?
Did you hit her and call it an accident as well?
Did you make it a habit of eyeing other women when you were with her or do you only do that with me?
Did you make her dream and break her heart as well like you did with mine?

How many times did you tell her that you love her?
How many hours did you spend exploring every inch of skin on her body?
How many moments did you spend worshipping her?


Am I as good as her?
Am I as good as her?
Do you think I am as good as her?
Can I ever be as good as her?



I don't want to even if I could.
I'm not going to be someone's sloppy seconds.
With the click of a finger I'll have a hundred more like you lined up, waiting to be with me.


At the end of the day I'm using you as much as you're using me.

Dream Until Your Dream Come True

I have taken the plunge.

And to be honest, I am petrified. 

I have never felt so scared in my life before.

I can make it.

I can make it?

Crazy/(Not) Beautiful

Adolescence was never a regular affair for me. I've always felt isolated from what goes on around me, like I don't really belong.
Delhi has been somewhat surreal so far, I've learned more about myself in the last few months than I ever did sitting in my room in Calcutta.
I've come to terms with the fact that I will always be lonely. Nobody can fill the void. Not because nobody can, but because I don't want anybody to.
My void gives me a sense of purpose.
It keeps me going.
Floating from place to place.
Moving on from one person to another.
My void gives me life.

I've been called many a name, both to my face and behind my back. Some hurt and some I dismiss as a joke, to be taken with a pinch of salt.
People sometimes do and say the most cruel things unintentionally.
I let it all go.
I feed the void.
It grows.
It takes over my brain.
My void consumes me.
I let it.
It gives my life some meaning that way.

I have been manic and depressed for as long as I can remember.
How did things get so fucked up?
I cannot remember.
My head has stopped listening to me.

Merry Christmas To Me

It's strange how I find myself all alone during times when I am craving for the company of a fellow human being the most. Loneliness is such a sad, sad thing.

There is no feeling more heartbreaking than knowing you're all alone.

I've been drifting in and out of depression lately. 

What is worrying though, is my complete lack of faith and hope that somehow things will work out just fine in the future. 

Reality is scary and the fact that I am not a child anymore has hit me very hard, like an unintentional but firm slap across the cheek when the brain is on acid.

I've built these walls so high that nothing breaks my heart anymore. Yes, I feel amused perhaps, but never upset because I know that happiness is something that doesn't really exist. It's all just a facade to keep ourselves from falling apart.

What is the point in craving to be with someone who does not exist anymore? What is the point in giving my heart to somebody who will land up breaking it into a million little pieces anyway?

Why fall in love when you can have sex and just leave it at that?

I've been told that I hold on to old memories too much and that I should move on. But move on to what? Yet another phase of self-destruction and mutilation? Things have been getting progressively worse inside my head over the years to the point of a complete breakdown.

I am losing my mind and this time, unfortunately, I don't think I will be able to recover from it.

I have given up all hope.

It was never worth it, at the end of the day.

I don't want anyone beside me.

I don't want anybody to love me.

I've had enough.

I am alone.

I have always been.

I am a phoenix.

I shall rise from my own ashes someday.

But just like Santa, there is no such thing as a Christmas miracle and I am learning that the hard way

Expiry Dates

I can't help but feel that you and I are running out of time. The urgency is driving me mad. I can't help but crave for one more time.

But don't show any mercy.

Don't treat me like a child.

I want to submit to you.

One more time.

Paint your pictures on me.

Bite into more than you can chew.

Destroy me.

For I want to be devoured by you.

Make me come

Make me cry

Make me come alive

Before I die....

Death By Fornication

I firmly believe that there will be a day when the lioness will be tamed. She can't be wild and free forever can she?
I want a man to violate me, to finish what one man started.
I want to scream.
I want to cry.
Replace all memories I have with new ones.
Maybe then I'll be truly free?

"Don't Scar My Face"

Fatigue. That's the first word that comes to my mind if I have to talk about myself.

I am tired.

I am so incredibly tired.

And sad.

I am living in a loop of eternal melancholy.

I'm so unsure of myself.

But I will not cry.

Especially not in front of you.

Even though my heart is breaking into a million little pieces.

You say all the right things.

But your eyes, they lie.

Lust.

Greed.

Fascination.

Infatuation.

Aggression.

Compassion.

But not love.

It's not that easy to fall in love and stay there.

I would know.

I've spent every waking minute looking for it, hoping that it still exists.

I Love You Mom

I wish I had my mother's grace. She'd always wanted to be a dancer when she was young and boy, she was the most gorgeous woman you'd ever see!
But her career was short-lived as she never really made her "passion" her "profession" and chose to be a professor instead, trading her ghungroo for reading glasses.
And here I am, 22 years later, awkward as hell and graceless like an old man with ADHD.


I wish my mother would take up dancing as a full-time career instead of a life of academics and family. I love her to death, but I don't want to be another her.

So beautiful, so surreal and so incredibly talented…but such a waste.

What's the point in being a good person?
My mother is one of the most honest, loving and hardworking people you will ever come across, but where did it get her? She's stuck with a problem child like me forever now!

Nice people always lose the race in this world.

Cherish the time that you spend with me.

I will be gone soon.

Forever.

Nothing makes sense anymore.

I am in pain.

I am in pain.

I am in pain.

In a strange new land.

Strange faces.

Strange memories.

Where nothing makes sense anymore.

I am in pain.

I am in pain.

I am in pain.

Only you can help me heal.

I should have cherished the time we spent together.

Taken pictures of ourselves.

Written each other little notes.

But we didn't.

We thought we were invincible.

But you're gone now.

It makes me sad.

I am in pain.

I am in pain.

I am in pain.

The loop is endless.

Musings at Midnight.

"Freedom was just another word, for nothing left to lose…"

There is a road that leads one to the Aravalli Guest House from the Ganga hostel (where some of my friends stay). It's covered with trees, the road is pucca and once the sun is down, feels just like a forest reserve.
I have been in a strangely reflective state of mind lately and while walking down that road tonight, I realised that everybody is always alone. They try so desperately to cling on to another, to share their world with another. But why? Not to let the other person in, but to only feel good about themselves.

What is freedom but being able to break away from all these shackles of attachment that bind us together!
I want to be free.
But I do not have the courage yet.