Games People Play

We're rocking back and forth
Or would it be politically correct to say up and down instead?
I'm in you.
I'm into you.


My friends and I are snorting drugs in a kitchen.
We're wired and bouncing around like toys.
Wasted humans.
Human waste.


I like the way you look at me.
I know you want me.
You know I know.
Make a move already.


My friends and I are hatching our conspiracies.
We're going to take over the world one day.
Be my bitch.
Be my knight in shining armour.

No Sleep For The Wicked

I see them swarm like bees around honey,

Thirsty eyes,

Thirstier souls. 

"But baby, 

I don't do em boys your age no more"

Deepest Scars

The start of something, anything is always beautiful. It could be a song, it could be a new project or heck, it could even be the initial stages of a friendship. 

I wonder what my life will be like when I'm 30ish. I've always imagined it'll be a rainy afternoon lying around with my lover perhaps, reading a book, listening to a jazz record. Perhaps slightly stoned. Perhaps very content, not necessarily happy, but content.

What to do, girl's gotta have some dreams right? 

Striped Socks

Striped socks on the floor

Endless flirtation 

Girl's gotta grow up at some point

Smoke a joint

Or maybe not

It doesn't really matter

We have to race against the clock

Striped socks on the floor

Along with my underwear

Calm down now

Tomorrow will be another story

Boy v/s Man

I'm infatuated with you, why can't you understand. I think about you when I have nothing else to think about. Think of me too sometimes, please. Or I'll end up giving my still broken heart to someone else.

We're all so lonely, looking for some company. We crave for someone to wake up next to, not always but once in a while maybe. Someone to share and over-share with. 

Isn't it the best feeling, to not go to bed with a broken heart and wake up with a smile? Knowing that someone cares very deeply for you. 

But you're not the one. 

You're not the one I've been looking for.

It's alright though.

I give up.

I can't spend my life chasing after you.

He's new.

Brand new and shiny.

With the face of an angel.

He wants to know me, pick my brain.

The feeling is mutual.

Maybe I'm a bad person for humoring him because I can't have you.

But what do I do?

I'm lonely too.

Simplicity.

Innocence.

Humility.

It'll only be a matter of time I will fall deeply in love.

I thought I'd be you.

I was wrong. 

Off and On

When someone takes your clothes off, piece by piece.
There's a fire burning in your lions.
You want him, more than anything in the world, you want him.

You kiss.
Your tongues find each other.
They dance.
Mate.
Connect.
Become one.

He holds you in his arms, you're in love.
All of a sudden.
Your guards drop.
You're naked and vulnerable in front of him.
The two of you know you want to make love.
For a change.
Probably your first time.
You want his love more than his hunger this time.
He treats you gently, doesn't reprimand you like the other times when you two've frolicked in public spaces, cars, rooftops, rooms etc etc.
He enters you without his guard on.
His heart is his dick.
So gentle, so loving, so satisfying.
You don't orgasm but you feel strangely ecstatic, like you're on drugs.
You feel whole for a fraction of a second and you want to hold on to that feeling forever.

You make endless and eternal love on an afternoon as the sunlight soaks in through the curtains. You're in his room, you want to be in his heart.
Hours seem like mere minutes.
The deed is done, you're back to wearing your clothes again.

Why must he tell you that he loves you when he doesn't.
He mistakes lust for love.
You mistake love for lust.
Game over.

Why It's Good, no, Best To Quit Facebook

1. People who you like will eventually start acting like assholes, you will loathe their sheer existence at some point and then "unfollow" them because you don't want to be the bitch who unfriends people randomly.

2. Facebook celebrities will kill your drive to actually go out and do something with your life. If a person who is not a public figure (legit model actress musician etc etc) and has over 500 followers and likes on their profile picture, chances are they will make you question everybody's sanity and the level of stupidity the world has come down to.

3. Girls who proudly flaunt pictures of them pouting and looking hot like that's how they look everyday. That shit aint real, who you fooling bitch?

What's worse is when they caption their photograph with quotes and lyrics which have no connection with their pictures.

4. Hipsters flaunting their tastes in music."Have you heard this producer from  Ethiopia bro? He plays povertytrance" No bro I haven't. Go take your hipster sensibilities and shove it up your ass. 

5. Even bigger assholes who proclaim their love for Yo Yo Honey Shit instead of being ashamed of it. This applies particularly to annoying juniors from school and college who's friend requests you shouldn't have accepted in the first place.

6. Pseudo stoners who post pictures of the joints they made out of the shittiest weed one could imagine. True stoners keep shut about their addiction, you poseur assholes! 

7. The ones (like me) who hate on everything and every one. I hate the government. I hate your band. I hate myself and want to die etc etc

8. Overtly-optimistic cunts with "gud morning" type status updates. Good morning? More like গুদমারানি! 

9. People with embarrassingly bad grammar. Get off your computer and attend an english grammar class or something you bunch of wanks. Your parents did not work to put you through a fancy english-medium school for nothing. Have some respect for your teachers who tried to turn an ape into a human. 

10. "Wanna friendship?" Enough said! 

Dj KittyKat

My homies and I were lamenting the fact that DJs are pretty much kicking us in the crotch and taking away our gigs. The new trend of colleges welcoming rave festivals at their fests to support/promote the same is rather alarming and very heartbreaking. 

It's one thing to host EDM festivals. But to play at college fests is nothing less than stupid and arrogant. My beef is not with producers who take the pain to make their music, I have a problem with all the wannabes pressing their spacebar and randomly fiddling with the faders on their board like they even know what they are doing.

It takes years and years of practise and hardwork to learn and master an instrument. A band puts in hours and hours of practise to sound good. But for what? There's always going to be a dick promoter who will book a DJ instead of a band just because it's cheaper and there is less hassle.

Of all the things that I hate about Calcutta, I hate how we're taught from a young age to be humble and respect other artists. But honestly, the more I travel outside, the less respect I have for some artists who are so busy being famous and making money that they forget why they're on stage in the first place. I hate people who take shortcuts. Being smart and being a cunning asshole are two very different things. 

Would you ever pay money to a tailor to perform surgery on you? Then why would you pay a guy with a macbook and a mixtape to be an artist at your event, isn't that musicians are for?

I attended the Bonobo concert last year in Mumbai and I don't know if it was the drugs or the band, but I had a great time. I am a huge fan of Simon Green's, but I probably would have skipped the gig had it been a dj set. It doesn't move me, to see some dude up on stage alone doing practically nothing. I'd rather sit at home and read a book, or better play the ukulele to relax and unwind. 

If you want to dance and have a good time then why not stay at home, invite your people and play your favourite CD! Why pay tickets to go watch someone repeatedly press their spacebar and pretend like it's so much work! 

I've been pushing myself to become a better musician over these last few years. I'm teaching myself to play more musical instruments and produce my music. Believe me, that is a lot of work! I'm not even taking into account the vocal practises and band practises which literally break my back sometimes. But for what? 

It's bad enough that I have very few role models because women are more interested in being glamorous and not enhancing their skills. What's worse is how the very few women who do take music seriously almost never come into the spotlight. The Indian media is strange and rather shamelessly chauvinist. 

Sometimes I think I could just change into my hotpants, a crop top and be a DJ, sell the default sex appeal that I have as a woman. 

If I were a DJ, I'd be DJ KittyKat.

But if I were to become a DJ, please don't hesitate to shoot me in the head. 

New Beginnings/Closure

It's the little things in life, like waking up to a message and maybe your heart skips a beat. That sinking feeling caused by someone else starts to fade slowly. You learn to pick yourself up with time. Start over.

This is pretty much the third time J's asked me out on a date, nothing fancy, just drinks perhaps. It's not even a date sort of a date, but I've been stalling it every time. He's incredibly attractive and quite the brains too. Almost too perfect, too good to be true.

I am so incredibly scared. What if we don't click? What if he doesn't like me? What if we run out of things to talk about? Will there be a second date if I were to accept? 

I want to take it slow this time around, I don't want to drop my clothes right away, my guard with it.

We never talk about romance or anything romantic. He doesn't flirt, neither do I.

Is this how adults initiate something? A relationship or a friendship perhaps? I spend my day on my own, doing my things. But it's nice to have someone to talk to, about random things when I'm feeling lonely. Politics, sports, the economy, sociology etc etc.

The thought of fucking him doesn't cross my mind as much as having a deep, intellectual conversation with him does. 

Am I growing up, into a woman? Isn't this how ladies behave? Random hookups don't excite me anymore, fooling around is for kids. I'm looking for something real this time. I want fidelity, I want security. I don't want steamy sex if it comes at the cost of feeling abandoned afterwards.

Being the child in a relationship has brought me a lot of pain and honestly it is all my fault because I have been making all the wrong choices. I pick someone who is completely wrong from the start, thinking I can change them, thinking my love will change them. But it almost never works. "Time is a flat circle" and people keep doing and redoing the same things over and over again, nobody ever changes.

I met someone the other day who reminded me of myself a year or so back. It's lovely when someone makes you dream of the glorious future, but I pray that she stays safe and he treats her right. A precious flower, hope he doesn't crush her and abandon her, like they've done to me. I want to tell her to be strong and brace herself incase she is thrown into a storm but I think she'll learn and grow on her own anyway.

I envy some people. Their lives are simple and they are happy. Stupid people are always happy because they don't think too much. I wish I could be stupid for a day, maybe I'd be happy too.

The initial stages of attraction are always the greatest. You know you're going to fall in love eventually, it's only a matter of time

But I'm going to be strong this time. I will toughen up by choice. I am tired of crying myself to sleep and having my heart crushed to bits.

I want to be with someone who loves me and treats me right. My demands are simple. But I'm not going to compromise this time around.

I deserve something great, if not the best. I didn't kiss all the frogs for nothing, get scarred by them. 

Alternative Career Options

1. Drug dealer, scene sorter.
2. Pimp.
3. Whore.
4. Model  Don't fulfill basic height/vital stat requirements
5. Actor  Cannot act to save life.
6. Writer for tabloids, the page 3 etc etc
7. Professional alcoholic.
8. Full time homemaker.
9. Private tutor  Don't have patience, can't stand most children.
10. Tollywood extra.

Babe,

(You just pictured me seductively moan "babe" into your ear, didn't you, you cheap fuck? ) I miss you. I miss how we'd kiss, how you'd hold my hand and guide me from time to time. I miss you and the way you'd hold me, hug me and console me. I miss the way you'd run your fingers through my hair and down my back, I miss how you'd squeeze my butt, my breasts and run your nails down my body. You'd finger me. You'd fuck me and you'd make me cry out for more. You were everything I wanted but I guess I was never good enough for you.
You never loved me the way I should have been loved. 'Why are you so hot' you exclaimed when you were busy sticking your dick inside me, onetime. That was always it for you. I was a hot, modern yogic piece of meat for you, never more. You never tried to understand me. You blamed the ex-lovers for getting in the way, but never blamed yourself. My ex-lovers were never throwing themselves at juvenile sluts, you were. My ex-lovers were never lying to me, you were. My ex-lovers were never abandoning me, you were. My ex-lovers were gone from the frame, Only you were around, but it is so much easier to blame someone else that yourself, isn't it?

I think about the sex we had from time to time and I pray that it wasn't the greatest I'll ever experience, I pray that it will be better for me someday. I pray for average sex with someone who'll love me with their heart over great sex with someone who will ultimately leave me feeling like a whore. I want to close my eyes and make love with someone, someday. I know I will, because you sure can fuck me hard and fuck me fast, but you've never been able to bare yourself and make love to me. It takes some amount of sensitivity and genuineness-qualities which you clearly don't possess.

Pay someone a thousand rupees and they'd probably do the same as I did. I was your cheap cheap cheap fucking whore, nothing more. Pay a whore a thousand rupees or slightly more and she'd swallow your semen and tell you how much she loves you as well. There is no real difference, is there? It's all just the same, girl A girl B girl X girl Y...it's all just the same. Scope them out on facebook, flirt your balls off, dream of fucking them someday somewhere. The cycle is endless. Two birds in the bush are quite obviously better than the one in hand, ain't it?

Pay a whore some money and she'd dress up all nice for you, be lady you can show off to your friends. There is no difference. They won't let you kiss them on the mouth though, But I wouldn't know, the lovers of my past have been completely satisfied with me, they've never had to look around as much as you've had to. they've never had to visit the rendipotti in Calcutta or elsewhere because despite my frail frame, I've been more than enough woman for them. You're the only asshole who I was obviously not enough for. I guess maybe if I was younger, sluttier, and had bigger boobs, maybe then I'd have your undivided attention. But what to do, I can't and I won't let someone like you make me feel inferior. If I had to take revenge then I'd talk about the size and girth of your fucking dick, your manhood. But I won't go there. I am not the peasant that you are. I am royalty, bitch.

People are obstinate, people don't change. Perhaps sometimes they get better at covering their tracks when they lie. But they never change. Anything you hear on the contrary, are just lies.

The older I grow, the more I realise that I want to settle down with someone, marry them and have their babies. I want to be in an average mediocre relationship with someone loyal, faithful and loving. I don't want adventures and grand plans. I just want someone who'll love me and complete me. I want someone who'll treat me right and be there for me when I need them the most.

The sex with you was probably the only thing I remember fondly, but then again, you never really understood and valued me. Because if you had then you'd never let me go. You'd never treat me the way you did. I was your hooker, I was never your lover. Dignity, look up the word on a dictionary, I don't think you know what it means. My ego has never swallowed me whole and every time you treated me like dirt at public places, I took it with a pinch of salt figuring that you're perhaps too naive, you're one of those asshole chauvinists who will perhaps change someday as they grow older.
It's strange how the more I let you treat me badly, the more you went ahead and did indeed. A showpiece, a prize, that's all I amounted to for you. But you forgot, you poor boy, was that everything has a repercussion. If you were to ever father a girl child some day, I pray that nobody ever treats her the way you treated me. Seriously, can you imagine the rage and the humiliation you'd feel? It's cool to treat women like your sextoys, isn't it? Wait till you have a daughter of your own, you cunt. Or would you be okay with someone treating her like a prostitute as well?

It's okay I guess. You're old enough to understand that we belong to two very different spheres. We want something completely different out of our lives. You want hot chicks, a whole bunch of them to adore you, you want to be rich and famous, I just want to settle down with a man and a dog (two actually) somewhere and write my music. Our priorities in life are very different.

You hurt me and I will eventually forgive you, with time. But I will never forgive myself for falling for a fraud. I always fall for a fraud. I guess that's my weak point, thank you for tapping into it. You're not much different from the guy who raped me. I feel stupid thinking that somebody would love me for my soul and the kind of person that I am. I guess the perils of having a moderately fuckable body is that guys will always only want to fuck you and dump you after that.

I don't know why that is though. Am I that ugly? Or does nobody want to love me because I'm tainted, because I've been raped? It's like everyone wants to stick their dick in me but nobody wants to stick around. I guess there are a few drawbacks of being raped during your adolescence, everybody assumes that you're a piece of shit and that you do deserve to be treated like one. Sometimes I feel like I should douse myself in kerosene and set myself on fire, just die. Perhaps nobody will love me. Everybody just wants to have a go at me, fuck me and then abandon me.
I guess not every girl has a happy ending. Some people, like me, unfortunately become the victims of the cruel game called life. I don't blame you, you had your go-duping me from time to time. I hope you had a good time. I hope I was able to "love you long time." The gifts make sense now. I'm not a cheap hooker, I'm one of those classy ones, you give me gifts and I give blowjobs etc etc.

I sometimes wonder if you think of me too. I wonder if you remember the time at your place when I trusted you to make love to me. Wait, who am I kidding. Your memory is probably too jammed from the fucking drugs and the superficial lifestyle. How could you remember, if you had any respect and valued sentiments, you wouldn't let me go so far away/

Someone told me that you've been writing about me, that you put up a naked picture of me. You know what, I won't give you the pleasure by even reading what you have to say to the whole wide world. I give a flying fuck. Try as hard as you can, pull of all your unimaginative and incredibly mediocre stunts, I'm gone. I'm really really gone. You're just a waste of time in my 23 years of existence, nothing more. If I can get over the person who I loved for the first time in life who raped me, then getting over you should be a piece of cake. I'm done waiting for a sign. I'm done waiting for you.

Infact, why the fuck am I even typing this out. I'd rather write a note for my dead soulmate who'll at least acknowledge my presence. You're not even a man. You're just an infant who threw away the best he could have imagined, the one who threw away the best he could have got.

Sincerely, without any love
S.

Cheeky Little Cunt

My pussy is tight

My pussy is tight

Don't kill my vibe, bitch

Don't kill my vibe.

I'd fuck your girlfriend

I'd fuck your brother.

I'd fuck them real good.

I'd fuck them right.

Cause my pussy's still tight.

Warm. So wet.

Waiting for you.

All those rumours you've heard

Are indeed true.

My pussy is tight.

My pussy is tight.

I'll spread anarchy right here in Calcutta.

It's time to start a fight!

Mondo Noi

Some people feel it in their hearts.
They express through words, through actions.
Us musicians are blessed, we express through song.

I sat with with my favourite boys yesterday to randomly jam on a song S had made during his last few months in hibernation. We ended up recording a scratch version of it with just guitars, bass, some keyboards and vocals. I have listened to it about 100 times since last night and the more I listen to it, the more deeply I fall in love with it.
It's beautiful what collective heartbreak and frustration can lead to, you just need to channelise your energy into the right thing.

The plan is to just sit and write and record, without any expectations or pressure.
Our lives may be B-grade.
Our city might be B-grade.
But our dreams, our feelings are real.

"নিয়ম মেনে চলে
কখনো হারিয়ে গেলে
ক্ষতি কোথায়ে
ক্ষতি কোথায়ে 

সকাল- বিকেল গেলো
নিজেকে লাগে ভালো
মন্দ নই!
আমি মন্দ নই! "

I swear to god I will cry when I track this song when/if we record this properly. The last time I had this feeling was when we were heading back home from the studio after tracking 'Raju Banega Gentleman'. We had perfect takes for the song because we were all feeling it in our hearts. We were driving back home listening to the version we'd tracked and all of us just fell silent, beaming with pride. Not because it was the best song or whatever, we had all been honest and that made all the difference.

Honesty.

Loyalty.

Hardwork.

Humility.

My B-grade city and my B-grade life may be the cause of immense ridicule, but my ideals are stronger than anything you will ever see.

Rain Fell Down

I was walking down the road with a friend, smoking a joint when a cute little thing wagging its tail came to me running, begging me to stroke it. "How did the dog understand that you'd pet it?" My friend was amused. You see animals, especially dogs, can sense love based off the vibes that people or other animals around them give.
We are the only creatures who need to verbally tell one another that we love each other, that we'd die for each other. Our love is an elaborate lie. It is to camouflage sex. That's all that there is to it.

Sometimes men use love to get sex and women use sex to get love. But where do I stand on this? I crave for intimacy, but never love because it is so painful and it always ends badly.

Love can be what a parent feels for their child perhaps? My father came back home after years and having him around changes the energy of the house. I'm starting to understand that a child needs both feminine as well as masculine energy around them as they grow up, a disbalance causes improper emotional development-much like my case.

Love can also be a simple text message from your best friend checking up on you from time to time, to see that you have not killed yourself it. It is that feeling when someone won't judge you and will always want the best for you, who you can be your true self with.
My college experience wasn't typical because I was out playing gigs and consequently skipping class. It was in the second year that I connected with M, my soul sister. We had the same affection for the villains of history and were equally compassionate about picking out the faults of our education system. We took a trip to Shantiniketan, the 4 musketeers, and it was during that trip that I realised what a beautiful phase my college-life was. The year after, after the end of our third and final year, we took a trip to the sea. On the last day of our vacation, the four of us sat on the beach soaked in water and just stared into the vastness that was the sea. None of us spoke a word and yet it was such a beautiful moment. It was at that moment when I knew I loved M and our friendship and I would never let go, no matter what.
Since the end of college, we've tried our best to stay in touch. The strange thing about love is that you don't have to constantly talk to the person or meet the person you care about. We meet everytime we are in the same city and even though there are long periods of not being in touch, I feel completely at ease with her when we are together. What is love but a deep-rooted friendship? It is the sense of trust, the comfort in knowing that you can bare your heart to someone and they'll not break it.


I was stoned and walking around town yesterday and it felt like it was going to rain. It did. All night long. It was poetic, beautiful.
As the first drops of rain touched the parched ground, I realised that I was surrounded by love in all shapes and forms. I wanted a sign and the universe had finally given me one.
A broken heart mends eventually, all it takes is a little bit of time...

Coping With Clinical Depression

Nobody goes out of their way to be nice
how many appreciate the beauty of a flower?
it wilts just as quickly as it blossoms
-fading away into oblivion.
Much like me.
So much like me.

In my fortress of solitude that I have built for myself,
I live and I die everyday,
hoping that the heaviness will lift one morning
and the pain will be gone
but nothing changes and everyday is just the same.

It won't be long before I stop dreaming
And face my reality
I came here alone and I shall die alone
Faceless, nameless.

"why can't you be happy?"
"why can't you stop being so depressed all the time?"
they don't know, they wouldn't understand.

I wish I could write love songs for somebody on Valentine's Day, serenade them. But nobody wants me when I don't offer them my body. That's okay I guess, I've never been a priority, some people aren't meant for those things. So I crawl into my shell, I am safe, I am comfortable. I don't need the outside world.

I remember a particular Valentine's Day when I smoked pot for the first time with the dadas from my neighbourhood. My date cancelled on the very last minute and I was terribly heartbroken. This was when I was young and quite stupid. I may know how to roll a joint now but many lightyears ago, the way we smoked weed was by painstakingly stuffing it into a cigarette. Or a chillum. I watched the guys meticulously roll a couple of joints. There was alcohol too, but I wasn't a drinker back then. One of them, my favourite, even got me a tube of dendrite and a polythene bag since he sensed my sadness. The weed made me so lightheaded, so dizzy and it was nothing like my dendrite high. It was fascinating. But I swore to myself that I would never get addicted to it, glue would always be my drug of choice.

I don't remember much from that day, except for feeling very happy not to have spent it alone. It was nice to hang out with a bunch of college boys who treated me as their cool, younger sister. I wonder where they are nowadays. Working perhaps, some maybe even married. It's strange that I've seen 23 Valentine's Days so far and the only one I can recollect at the moment, is one which included no romantic activity with a partner.

Since Shoshibabu's passing, I've been so incredibly lonely that I can physically feel the pain sometimes, like a permanent knot in my stomach, an ulcer, a cyst.
You don't choose your pets, they choose you. If it's meant to be then they'll come to you.

I'm planning to adopt dogs again, after all these years. I grew up with a dog, Ticklie, who was not a pet but a member of the family. She was the cutest thing. My mother tells me that when I was an infant, she would guard my cot and growl at anybody who came too close to it.

I remember my grandfather telling me that Ticklie was resting and would be resting for a long time because she was tired and her body wanted some rest. I knew that she was gone, not just asleep. "Do pets go to heaven when they die?" I asked my grandfather. "Yes, they are god's favourite children" my grandfather told me. And I believed him.
I still do believe that animals go to heaven when they die, unlike the humans who outlive them and are made to rott, here on earth. What is this world but an everyday hell?

It's strange how no human being has been able to love me like my pets have. Unconditional love doesn't exist in humans. That saddens me. We need a day to express love for someone we love/we need a day to remind ourselves that no one loves us.

I've decided to spend this Valentine's Day binge watching a few movies and eating pizza in bed. I figure I don't have to shave my legs and watch my weight since I have nobody who wants me, really wants me.
Everybody likes the person they see on stage, they bow down to her. But off-stage, nobody really cares, all they ever want is to get into that cool chick's pants. 

I would do anything to go back in time, coming back home from school after a particularly bad day and going off to sleep-that was how I'd cope. I'd wake up to find myself hugging my cat who had mysteriously snuggled under the blanket with me.
Simple times. Simple joys.

My pets have always protected me, shielded me from my depression and now that I am all alone, I realise that they weren't mere pets, they were my angels who watched over me and took care of me. They wanted nothing in return, their love was selfless and uncoditonal.
It also made me realise that I am incapable of being loved by a human being and I am incapable of loving them back. I do not understand the concept of love, as perceived by humans.

But that's okay I guess. I tell myself that I can live without human company, affection. I'm more inclined towards looking for a pair of dogs (or cats) to share my home with, to give my love to. My Prince Charming will only poison my soul once hes sticks his dick inside me. Disney movies are not real. The reality of love is that it is just an elaborate porno about two humans choosing to mate to ensure the continuation of their species. All other things are just lies.

I'm 23 and all alone on the day of love. If I don't learn my lesson now then I probably deserve what I'm getting.

As Above, As Below

I turn twenty fuckin four this year, would you believe it! I made a bucket list of all the things to do before 30 and even though I've crossed a lot of things off that list, I doubt I'll be able to complete it. It's the second month of the year and I hate 2015 already. I feel like life is stabbing me in the chest every goddamn day of this year. Everything is falling apart. I am falling apart.

I've never believed in god. I can't believe in something I can't see, touch, feel. I believe in the universe, but does an entity that we've christened "god" exist? I don't know. I don't believe yet.

This year, I want to find myself more than anything else. I want to understand myself, slay my demons and let go of my tendency to be dependent on others' love. I need to find my peace. I need to find my light.

A ship lost at sea, my mind's been adrift for too long now. What the fuck am I doing wasting my time trying to write that one song which will change me forever?
I've been trying so hard to bring out my monster, give it a voice and make it sing. All my new material is grotesque, intimidating. But this process is taking a toll on me. I cannot separate my art from my life and I can feel it slowly taking control over my entire life.

I want to sing better, I've been practising hard.
I want to play better guitar, I've been practising hard.
I want to write better music, I've been trying hard.
I want to be happy, how do I do that?


Ideas they come and go, sometime I hold on to them, milk them into a song. But only in vain. Anything I try to write is shit. Absolute shit.

All I want to do is find myself, maybe then I'll be able to write a decent song.

Consensual

what causes one to be cruel, so cruel?
what makes one act like a savage, a beast?
centuries of evolution and yet you cannot think beyond yourself.
living in perpetual gloom.
and memories of days bygone.

I open my eyes and I'm a nymph at 12. I figure I'm Lolita, I can handle it all. But I'm not Lolita. I don't know what a man's genitals look like.
"Touch it", he places my hand over his dick.
It looks like a worm, a snake, a deformity.
I can see it grow slowly and steadily.
I am scared. It intimidates me.
He places his dick in my mouth. It tastes sour, like death. My death.

I'm in my training bra, didn't anticipate we'd come this far. All I wanted was a kiss, nothing more. I didn't know there was a world beyond a kiss. He squeezes my nipples, for I do not have a breast he can hold on to. It feels strange to let someone see me naked for the first time.
I'm embarrassed of the hair around my vagina.
I'm embarrassed and petrified as he slides his fingers around and then into it.
It hurts.
It hurts a lot more than I can imagine.
Just one finger.


Is this what adults do for recreation?
Is this what grownups always fantasize about?

I see him looking at me as he makes me suck his dick.
I understand that he feels a great deal of pleasure.
I am sexslave. I'm his sexslave for the evening.

"Are you scared?" "No"
I lie. I'm not a convincing liar but he needs to hear what he wants to hear.

It is the month of December but somehow I do not feel cold. Only scared. Broken.

How did I get to this part of my nightmare?
He was stronger than I imagined.
I had nothing on but a pair of earrings.
He was dressed, except for the dick sticking out of his pants.
(Or did he take his shirt off? I can't quite remember)

Degradation.
Humiliation.
But a severe breach of trust, more than anything else.

I lay there like a nymphsexdoll. He couldn't get his dick to go into my vagina on the first try. He told me that it would hurt and reassured me that "I" would feel good. I did not believe him, not a word he said. But I was too lost to respond, let alone fight back.

I shut my eyes and felt pain. Nothing but pain.
It was nothing like I had imagined it to be.
He grunted and pushed hard and I prayed for the ordeal to end.
I wouldn't let him see me cry.
I wouldn't give him the pleasure.

It's been over a decade since the incident. I've been called a "sex goddess" by a few men I have slept with. I have seen the pleasure in their eyes as they orgasm. Sex with me is a high, I've been told. But nobody knows that they're fucking a dead person.
I die the moment they enter me. Nobody has been able to make me feel alive.

What's the best sex I've had so far in life?
I haven't had any good sex.
Nobody has loved me the way I deserve to be loved.
I have merely given my body to those seeking pleasure.

I'm quite mad.
But that's okay, I like to believe that I'm saving myself for the right person when they come along.

And one day when you see my face in the pages of a magazine, you will realise that the scars you left on my body have long faded...

what's the baddest, nastiest thing you could do to me...in bed?

Even More Resolutions

6. STOP READING THE DAMN TABLOIDS.
I have been reading the newspaper religiously for every day since class V and it's time that I stopped reading the supplementaries on entertainment that come with it instead of reading them after I've read the main paper. I can do without learning about random garbage at the start of my day. Also, Calcutta has some really ugly people who seem to feature almost every goddamn day, I could definitely do without my morning sickness that their dumbandovermadeup faces induce.

7.  EXERCISE!!!
My greatest fear is to wake up one day realising that I have a paunch and that it makes my navel piercing look like that of a cheap hooker's.