The World Is A Happy Place?

I tried to watch porn today. It was disturbing.
I chose one which was titled 'sexy asian boys'...sounds like fun right? wrong!


The two boys who were probably as young as i am were not performing out of pleasure but out of desperation. It showed on their face. Its funny how money can make one do the most unthinkable things on earth.


I feel really bad for all those girls and boys out there, especially the ones my age, who are forced into this business, under no matter under what circumstances. How many people would do this for fun and not out of desperation?


Selling yourself or being raped is almost the same thing. I should know for i have been a victim of abuse.
My opinions on rapists and other sinners who encourage/force young children into prostitution/pornography are hence very biased and very very harsh and i believe in no less than capital punishment for them. They are murderers of the worst kind. They murder the mind and use the body. Almost like plucking a mosquito's legs one by one and then its wings, thus leaving it to die a slow and painful death.


So anyway, these two 'sexy asian boys' may not have been gay. Why do i have a feeling that in reality they're just two very hetero teenagers who were probably forced to mess around with each other infront of a roomfull of people who were redording it...all for money?
Well that probably is the truth, but just to assure myself tonight, i shall keep telling myself that they were just two boys who were having a little fun.


I will sleep in peace tonight by assuring myself that it is the latter, but deep down inside i will know that my assurance to myself is a lie for their eyes gave it all away...

this was a draft that i re-wrote :)

she looks at herself in the mirror. critically.

he waits for her at the corner.
somewhere far away a man dies in search of salvation.
but look at these two naive fools, how quickly they find what they seek.
they seek less.
they seek love.
they seek each other.
their young hearts burn with a feverish passion.
they believe in each other.
but they possess what the man never had.
hope.

Report Card Blues.

My report card comes out today and as usual, i have done badly...why?
because i did not bother to study at all...that's why!

So here i am, blogging away to glory whereas my parents (yes, both of them!!) are at school, conspiring against me with the help of my teachers.
This nexus between teachers and parents is quite fascinating to observe. A typical parent-teacher meeting will be full of a whole lot of suspense and melodrama~enough to make a soap opera on atleast!
I've seen so many kids being dragged along the corridors by their mothers, who make a humongous but unsuccessful attempt to show that all is well and that her child is as good as everyone else's while secretly waiting to get back home and flog the life out of them.
My parents however, are not the beating kind, they are the scolding/silent treatment kind which probably is as bad as the former category. So this term is no exception...I have to wait a little longer to find out what destiny has in store for me this time though.

But the question is, why didnt i study?!
Its not like i was too busy watching porn/partying/reading up/doing household chores or for that matter, doing anything!

Rape Me.

Rape my mind.
Rape my soul.
Rape my ego.
Rape my thoughts.
Rape my dreams.
Rape my beliefs.
Rape my life.

Why just the body?

You're just too obsessed with me to accept.
You cant get me out of your head now. Can you?
You can never forget. Can you?
Will you?

I will haunt you forever.
Or maybe the next two weeks. Then what?
Will you come crawling back to me?

I feel stupid at my vulnerability.
I feel stupid in general.
I feel confused.
I am confused.


I will always love you.
But you will always rape me.

Rock On!!

i wish i was a rockstar. being in the school band is not pleasurable enough.
i like playing these power chords, i like acting like a rockstar. i love singing. i love playing the guitar. i love hogging the limelight!

music, especially when making it, gives me an adrenaline rush like no drug in this world can.

the last official performance by the school band is due on the 24th and i REALLY want to put up a good show this time. i want to prove my worth~not just to all those who think i'm not good enough, but to myself.
i know i have it in me. i have showed it time and again, all i need is a silver lining and a whole lot of practise.

i want to live my dream.
play the guitar for the crowd as i watch it mosh, headbang and scream out my name.
i want to sing. i want everybody be swept away by me.
i'm not a diva, not even close.
i'm just a girl with a dream.

But i want to make it big.
I KNOW i can make it big.
with a little practise and a whole lotta luck!

Locker Room: Make believe?

To be aware of my existence in quite a complusion.
I exist.
I exist!
I exist?

My mind swarms with your thoughts
You nauseate me
You love me?
Oh, in that case I love you too!

Kiss and tell.
All is well.

Jaberwockee...Biased me!

This Does Not Deserve A Name

She dresses to kill.
He smokes a cigarette.

She waits.
He takes his time.

She turns feverish with anticipation.
He sets out to get it over with.

She lets him kiss her.
He considers foreplay as just a formality.

She makes love to him.
He fucks her.

She gives him everything she has.
His want is insatiable.

She waves goodbye.
He looks at another girl.

this week's obsessions: (in random order)

THE REAL ADVENTURES OF JONNY QUEST



STRAWBERRY FIELDS FOREVER -the song



PULP FICTION



ALICE IN WONDERLAND



SYLVIA PLATH



MARILYN MANSON



ROSEMARY'S BABY



FENDER (my strat!)

losing my clothes And my morals

i am wierd.

i like being wierd.

i am constantly reminded of this when i look around and see all those 'normal' people around me- so happy, so content, so disturbingly perfect.

i refuse to grow up.

i love being an adolescent-kinky, bitchy, OTT and emotionally unstable.

the mere thought of growing up scares me.

an old acquaintance recently propositioned me to have sex with him.

i turned him down.

why?

because i'm no longer the rebel that i used to be.

i'm no longer the bitch who couldnt care less.
i'm a domesticated animal now.

bound by chains of morals, righteousness and self-control.

but at the same time, its not like i have a problem with this change.

its a matter of time before i get used to this sobreity.

metamorphosis?

-i think not!

Crushed+Torn+Broken+Hurt

I thought i saw you that day,

walking down the alley,

with a smile on your face,

holding her by the waist,

walking slow,

in the moonlight,

the light falling on your handsome face,

looking into her eyes,

mumbling cheesy lines in her ears,

she looked like she could'nt resist your charm,

she looked happy,

she looked like she was loved,

is she your new target,


you rapist?

into the wild.

I lose myself in the depth of your eyes.
Your eyes.
Your eyes.
Telling only lies.

into the wild.
into the wild.
where we can lose ourselves.
Not in lies, but each other.

Come away with me love...

Bunny Rabbit: horny/cute/memory

This one's for you P (yeah, you!). Read carefully, it may be corny, but this really IS how i feel...


I wish it wasnt this way.
I wish i could feel you. One last time.
Before i let you go.
Before you fade away from the crevices of mind.
Before you turn to dust.
Before you forget our tryst with love and longing. One random winter evening.

I remember it like it was yesterday.
Your heartbeat at par with mine.
Your lips on my neck.
Your lingering hands.
Lust overpowering us.
The warmth of your body.
Against my skin.
That tingling sensation.
The mating of tongues.
Hands.
Minds.
Beliefs.
The conjugation of two spirits.
A solitary kiss which lead to nothing.
You and me. Aganist the whole world.
Erection. Anticipation. Paradise Lost.
Deeds done, but never forgotten.
Waste of time?


You.
You've got me tangled.
You make me feel cheap.
You make me feel like a whore.
You make me afraid. Of myself.
You make me insecure.
You make me look foolish.
You leave me disoriented.
You left me wanting for more.

Words can never make up for kisses lost.
Words can never make up for the time we wasted.

I dont belong to you.
I can never be your's.
You can never be mine.


Erasing the memory is not the solution. Cherishing is.
I like you.
Blah-ed out Kinky Bitch!
:X

As Told By Ginger

When i was a kid, i used to religiously watch this television show on nickelodeon called 'As Told By Ginger', about an orange-haired adolescent girl, Ginger Foutley, who's daily triumphs and defeats, no matter how mundane,were recorded in her journal.

She was a 7th grader, trying to find her place in school along with three of her best friends. It showed the gradual transformation of feelings of friendship to love, bringing back the innocence that is no longer associated with love.
It dealt with what it was like to live in a small town where everything was just about average...Ginger's longing for a father who she never really had. ..The love-hate relationship with her brother and the beautiful mother-daughter bonding that she shared with her mother.
It didnt preach. It didnt go overboard with the emotions that the characters experienced. It was so real that it still gives me goosebumps.

What fascinated me was the fact how much I could relate to her, although we had pretty much nothing in common. I remember getting emotional at the end of every episode. They seemed so real. They seemed to have been made especially for me. They made me cry. They made me laugh. They gave me hope.

Ginger made me believe that I could achieve everything and that nothing was impossible. She taught me to be strong and not let the world bring me down. She showed me that there was always light at the end of the tunnel. She made sadness seem like a perfectly normal emotion to experience.
But all this while,I never really realised how deep the show actually was , maybe because i was too young to do so....

But now i realise what the makers had in mind when they gave birth to her, Miss Ginger Foutley, they wanted every girl to look up to her, they wanted every girl to want to be her friend, but more importantly, they wanted every girl to find the Ginger Foutley that lay hiding inside them!

I love you Ginger.
I am you.
You are me.

Walking these streets alone

I've been walking night and day. Running. Crawling. My feet are hurting and so am I. I walk the road that will lead me to you, but it is a mere illusion. The closer that I get to you, the more you seem to move away from me.

Suicide seems like such a comforting thought. Death seems like an immense relief.
"Suicide is painless". Suicide is for cowards. I am a masochist. I take pride in being a masochist.

I bleed it out and you shall never know.
I cry it out and you shall never know.
I break down into pieces and you shall never know.
I die a thousand deaths everyday and you shall never know.
You shall never know me.

I've been thinking about you all night and day, but now it seems like such a waste of my time. My head hurts from all the vodka and cigarettes. I more i try to cling on to the memories of all the good times that we've had, the more they seem to fade away from the corners of my mind.

Smoking pot seems like a good idea. Pot is overrated.

I'm battered. bruised. broken. torn. slit into pieces.
And none seem to have any feelings left for you!

I can do SO much better anyway.

thought cloud

I thought we had it all.
I thought.
I thought.
I thought.
I should'nt have.



If i stop thinking about you, will the pain go away?
You've fucked me up.
I cant get you out of my head.



I feel cheated.
You said that you'd love me forever
and let me in on your thoughts.
What happened to all those promises?



I cant read you anymore.
You've shut me out.
Completely.
I am crying without even realising.
Shit.



I thought we were perfect together.
I thought.
I thought.
I thought.
I still do think.
I should'nt?



Is it me?
Is it you?
Is it someone else?
Is this it?

Salvation and a litte Vodka

You're a fetishisht.
You're only mine.
You're my whore.
You're so divine.

I cant get you out of my head.
Your scent still lingers in my bed.
I still feel your hands where they should'nt be.
Suck me. Fuck me. Set me free.

You're my rag doll.
Nothing more.
I love you. I hate you.
To the core.

I cant get you out of my head.
My imagination is underfed.
I want it to be one last time.
Before my slut is no longer mine.

You're my fantasy.
You're my reality.
You're my overtly-active
Sexuality.

I cant get you out of my head.
There's much to be done and much to be said.
I want to feel you like never before.
You're my angel. You're my whore...

The Joys of Being Talented but Confused.

I am 17. I have 13 piercings. I have a blue streak in my hair. I listen to good music. I play the guitar. Creativity comes naturally to me. I have an active social life.I have a loving boyfriend and two loving parents. I am bored....

And yes, i don't believe in god and i support the legalization of marijuana and same-sex unions...I have a masochistic bent of mind, i have issues and my private life is often to sole topic of discussion amongst my obviously jealous peers....

All in all, it gets really hard sometimes when you have nobody to talk to, nobody who really understands you, but at the end of the day, i'd rather associate myself with only a few people who would really enjoy and long for my company than be with those who merely want to use me as a tool...

These, my friend, are some of the joys as well as the perils of being talented but confused....:)

Not quite there yet; but getting there

I look forward to weekends, they're fun, they're two days of sheer bliss when i get to be myself and do all that I've been wanting to throughout the week...
I am an adolescent, mind it!!

But weekends can be very sad, much like the durga puja's that are up in another two weeks or so...the anticipation is killing me, so is the mere thought of them getting over :(...But till then, I'd like to keep myself happy by counting down on the number of days to go! :)