Rigor Mortis: Review of 2016

The noise outside is starting to get to me, mess with my sanity. It's so loud, so loud. It's always SO loud. I want to shut my ears and make it all go away. But things are worse within. I want the voice in my head to shut up, even if for a second.
While I'm determined to finally stop fooling around and get to work on my record, I'm wondering if it's worth it, to sort of martyr myself for the sake of my art. I have been tracing the patterns lately and it all seems so futile. Music keeps me from killing myself. as incredibly clichéd as that may sound. But I don't know anymore if that's the way it really is or if that's just the clinical depression rearing its ugly head.
Too many pimps around me, too many whores.
I don't belong. I can never belong. It's not like I want to.
Living in Calcutta shields me from the ugliness of money, it frees me from the constant pressure of being relevant. I do not seek validation through my art, I only want to express. I only want to feel.

The work on Songs About Lovers hasn't even started and yet I am already so emotionally drained from trying to find a way to give voice to my innermost thoughts. I'm picturing it as having sex; letting go of all my inhibitions, breaking all walls within. I don't care how the world perceives me. If they don't ask the right questions then they'll never really know who I am, what I stand for. At this point in life and love, I have nothing to lose. So I guess I'm going to try to be as honest as I possibly can. It's a struggle because I'm jaded beyond repair. But that's not an excuse. This is something that I have to do for myself, this is something that I need to do for myself.

This year may not have been as adventurous as the last few but it feels like I've finally been able to slay a lot of my demons. I lost the plot somewhere in-between and maybe that was the best thing that could have happened to me.

Acceptance brings a strange sense of calm, comfort. I no longer feel the need to try and hide all that crazy. While I did, for the longest time, run away from the whole rape thing, I know now that I can never really discard the memory, pretend like it never happened. Because it did. Life is not Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind where you just erase the memories that cause you pain. This is much deeper; a sort of foundation of  my strength, all my courage.
I was going about it all wrong all this while.
When I faced him a decade later, to prove a point to myself about being strong and invincible, I was hiding behind a false sense of normalcy. No, it's not normal for a 12-year old to be abused by someone. It's not normal that my first sexual act was statutory rape. It has obviously fucked me up in ways from which I will never recover. I'm never going to be "normal" and you know what, that's alright. While it may have scarred me for life, it's something that makes me want to be a better person every damn day. It makes me want to spread love into a world which could definitely do with more kindness. There's no such thing as too much love.
13 years later, I no longer demonise every partner, every lover that I have. Maybe I did go through a bad patch, but it's becoming easier to love and trust every day. Because I'm starting to love and trust myself too. It amuses me when I scare people by being my true self. I don't know who else to be, how else to be. In all my flaws and all my glory, here I stand before you, world. Here I am, no mask of pretence, no fakery. It may not always be a pretty picture but my demons are a strange kind of beautiful. I am not going to hide them under the carpet anymore. I no longer feel ashamed.

"freedom was just another word, for nothing left to lose"

It's true. This is the most aloof I've ever been. Maybe my detachment will only grow the older I get. It's okay though. I'm going to be okay.



While it seems like a man caused a lot of heartbreak in the recent past, it wasn't really his fault. It was never about him anyway. I was more broken by the fact that I chose to give my love and attention to somebody who simply didn't want it. Like many others, like me, he ran because he was scared of falling in love. I've wasted a lot of energy hiding behind a stone-cold, horny exterior. But who I am trying to fool. The minute I sense something potentially permanent and monogamous with someone, I run in the opposite direction too. It's because stability and the permanence scare me. The past has left a bitter taste in my mouth. I feel vulnerable, so I protect my heart fiercely.
So in many ways, this man was a sort of mirror to my own patterns, my own flaws. Who am I to make a villain out of somebody who is just like me!
The sex too, this year, was mediocre at best. I have gotten quite good at understanding and satiating my needs. After all the mindless fucking, I no longer have the will to have sex with someone just for the sake of it. I would rather stay home, masturbate and climax. My partner can never understand my energy if they're not looking for intimacy. Nobody wins because the pleasure is only superficial that way. There is no groundbreaking orgasm for either of us.
Believe me, I've had some intense sex in this lifetime and I know that it exists. I am no longer willing to compromise. I want quality and not just quantity. 

I have reached a point in life where it is essential to climax, to finish what I start. Otherwise it's a waste of my time. I am done chasing, it was never my thing. You have to come to me. I'll give you all my love and all my soul. I will not kiss any more mouths till I find something real. I may have fucked up a lot this year, not anymore.
I am no longer afraid of love. I am no longer afraid of heartache. I may not be able to fit in everywhere and that's more of a good thing than bad. It's a little bit scary to know that I will not be easily understood and that's something I'll just have to learn to deal with.


Speaking of scary, the maternal instincts have been kicking in lately. It's funny how normal for most is often bizarre for me. I have never pictured myself as a caregiver, but there have been strange cravings lately. The need to do something more fulfilling with my life. Yes sure the debauchery is great, what next? What is rock n' roll? I love being on the road and having all these adventures but there are times when I wonder what it would be like to eventually have a baby. Will I ever be a mother, do I want to ever want to be a mother? Motherhood is not just the process of birthing and raising a child, it is an instinct. One that I cannot escape. As my body clock starts to make its urgency felt, I realise now that these are things I'll have to think about eventually. Running away is futile.

The moment you work out all your mommy and daddy issues, the brain rewires itself into getting fixated on strange things. Levelling up on the video game-like simulation that is your life.


Thankfully there is too much on my mind at the moment, too much to be done, to ponder over the possibilities of the future. Time has never been kind, but it exists only because of my conditioning. Every thing in the universe has a rhythm to it, even the future. I have to be patient and wait for whatever life has in store for me.

2017 will see the little girl grow up a little bit more. This transition into womanhood is scary but I'm taking my time, easing into it till it perfectly sets into my bones. 25 years baby, I've survived. There's no way in hell I'm giving up so easy, without a fight.
I know there's more.
The best is yet to come.
Faith/fate.

Human

Nothing changes.

You become only more grotesquely inhuman with time.

Sometimes you're the sacrificial lamb,

Sometimes you're the butcher.

It all adds up, like an infinite loop.

A pattern.

Math/art.

Your consciousness warns you to stay within the limits, you're scared of losing your mind.

"How bad can it be?"

"How much can it hurt afterall?"

You've been through worse, you've been to hell and back. 

So you let the apathy and the indifference crawl into your skin, slowly, very slowly.

Remember the time you got jacked up on street drugs? Remember your reflection in the mirror as you were barely able to recognise yourself?

"Never again"

But you lie.

You keep waking up from the same nightmare and by now you've figured it out.

There is no escape.

It ends when you do. 

So you succumb to the stereotype.

Build your walls so high, lock yourself in your castle of solitude.

Brick by brick, mechanical like a machine.

Memories cemented with so much pain and suffering. 

You almost enjoy it don't you, you masochist.

It makes you happy, to cut yourself open and bleed like that.

'My pain is the only thing that makes me human.

Without it, I am nothing. My universe is a lie.'

"Let's watch the stars tonight."

You take his heart and break it, you have no intention of keeping him.

Oh you cruel little thing.

How dare you feel sorry for someone doing to you what you do to them.

Nothing changes.

You project only yourself onto others.

You are the only one, you are your salvation.

Your body is only a mere vehicle. 

"Infinite" 

"Deathless and birthless"

Search

it's a constant struggle,
striving to achieve the seemingly impossible.
i could turn out like Sixto,
but i don't have the talent, neither do i have the sensitivity.

sometimes i stay in bed for days when things don't go my way.
i let my illnesses get the better of me.
but i am human, so fragile.

tell me this is only a nightmare.
hands everywhere, hands that deflower me, rob me of my sense of self.
the road to recovery is too long and it takes only a second to give up.

feelings no longer make sense,
warriors fight alone.

i am
i am
i am every day, all the time
but who?

Saving Grace

There is a boy, I like it when we talk about the universe and stuff. 

I like it when we walk around town, hand in hand in the cool winter evenings.

I like it when we play our drunken games,

I like the way we kiss. 

But I am unable to give him my heart.

He'll leave when it's time and I know the exact drill by now.

It's strange how much this year has changed me, the walls are up and I don't have the strength to break them down on my own anymore.

If you wait, my little boy, I will give you my all.

Now is not the time, I need you to be a little more patient with me.

The universe has always given me signs, it has always made things right.

So what is it that I'm supposed to do now?!

Warpaint

And after he's gone I carefully examine myself in the mirror. I don't know where all the marks are from.

Was it him, or him, or him? 

Three too many. 

"Well done S, your studliness, even though just for a night, is infinite." 

It's a sort of poetic justice to end up ultimately, after all that fooling around, to end up with an old lover. There is a strange familiarity as we explore each other's bodies. I don't mind the feeling of comfort, I don't mind it at all. I check to see what time it is, there's still a while before we have to run back to our own lives. The night was long and the morning doesn't make me feel terrible about myself. I think about someone I clearly shouldn't be thinking about. "What the fuck is wrong with me?"
So I go back to sleep. I find it rather amusing that my aversion to cuddling is starting to fade away the older I grow.

Love, unlove.
Learn, unlearn.

There is retribution in knowing that spotting him in a crowd of thousands means nothing to me at all. I don't tumble, I don't fall. I don't give him a second glance. He's just another one to me now. I don't feel the need to venture out into the plebeian world, hoping to bump into him. I get a lot of love because I give a lot of love. There is a strange sense of calm, there is a strange sense of closure. Although this was not what I wanted, but I'll take whatever I can get at this point just so I can move on.

He may be a star and everything fancy.

But I'm no riffraff either. 

It's ironic that I get the things he so badly craves for, without even asking. 

As I sing my songs, I sing them for the people and I sing them for myself. My life has always been full of adventures and misadventures and he's just one of the many blurry faces that, quite frankly, don't deserve my validation.

Time changes everything. 

The universe works in mysterious ways indeed. 

How much grief can a heart hold, till it ruptures? 

Soul

I feel good every time it rains during the pujas.

A gentle reminder that you were around, if only for a while

As I sink deeper into this abyss, I wonder if this is what a breakdown feels like. If this really is one.

Everything seems so crystal clear in my head. The detachment no longer feels painful. The indifference barely hurts, like a scab it slowly heals.

The near is soon.

Zen is painful.

STYGGO

The Dandys play on loop.

I'm trying very hard not to think about you because every time I do, it breaks me.

So I wait.

Then I wait some more, for this pain to pass.

My mourning may be consistent but so is your indifference.

Fuck this shit.

Fuck your kisses and your general coolth. 

"Some things you gotta get over" I guess. 

Saudade

I'd promised myself that I wouldn't do lines.

But I don't want to go back to my hotel.

It's the exact same fucking room where I spent an entire night making love to someone.

I say love because we did not fuck that night.

He held my hand, he kissed me, he told me his stories.

He loved me till the break of dawn and he left.

There's a what's-his-face excitedly chatting me up.

But he doesn't interest me.

None of them do, anymore.

I don't have the strength to spend the night alone this time and neither do I want to invite someone only whose body I want to use to pass the time.

So I keep doing it till it's broad daylight outside and I have to head to the airport.

The alcohol numbs pain, or maybe the drugs.

At this point I don't care anymore.

Falling down is not a problem,

Getting back up is.

On some days I run around, happy like a child.

Some I spend in bed, rewinding all the events of these last few years in my head.

I haven't thought about this man for a long time and yet somehow once the alcohol's taken over, I do.

But I let my bruised sense of self overpower my longing.

You have to come to me, I'm back inside my shell and my walls are up again.

If not then it really isn't worth my time.

Or my faith.

You live, you learn. 

Bassinet

My pride, my instinct.

I don't want your validation.

I don't want your adoration.

My demons, my dreams.

I don't want your company.

I don't want your attention.

I can be your lover.

I cannot be your pet. 

Faith

My playlist has been the same for too long.

An unending loop.

So I've cleaned, I've cooked and I've done my laundry.

I've said goodbye to them all.

I can feel it all over again.

Maybe it is indeed time. 

I wish you wouldn't make me so desperate to join you.

But you were never the one to play fair. 

Let's Try This Again Later Sometime

I know how to cook a meal that doesn't involve the microwave.

I know how to clean, I know how to do my laundry.

I am learning about the universe, still, so that is probably a lifelong process.

I know how to read, I know how to write.

I know how to act perfectly domesticated.

I am still learning how much to give, how little to take. I am too young to have it all figured out.

And sometimes, all this learning, isn't such a good thing.

I find myself unable to let go of those who were never mine to begin with.

My heart is in knots.

I am unable to love.

I know how cowardly I am sometimes.

And yet, I don't want to change.

It's been a quarter of a century, I should know by now that I can't always have it all. 

Your hands remind me of a piano player I once knew.

It's magic when you run your fingers over my skin.

But you played me, oh you played me so well. 

Doctors and dancers, 

Scruffy cheeks and hearty smiles.

Some smell like men, some want to fornicate like animals.

I don't want any of them.

Please go fuck yourself. 

You don't know me, you don't want to.

Please go fuck yourself. 

Post Its for Lovers

I only ask for your love and your company.

You don't have to shower me with attention,

Validation,

Gifts and other such spectacles.

Ravage my body as much as you want.

But be gentle when you break my heart.

I am an object of love, lust and yearning.

Don't bring out the monsters inside of me.

Float

I don't think I can do it anymore,

Stay afloat.

The ocean is deep and I don't know how to swim.

I should have taken those swimming lessons when I had the chance.

Piano too.

But they don't teach you the important things in school.

The thin line that separates;

Insanity and satiation,

Love and consent.

The cat downstairs needs to be fed.

The sheets have to be washed, changed.

The adventures never really stop, there is always only a brief pause. 

I am my own life jacket, you don't really have to save me. 

I got my legs wrapped around your head.

Kiss me, taste me.

Do you feel the rush yet?

I got my heart locked inside a cage.

Or maybe it doesn't exist anymore.

He took it with him when he left.