fuck being positive.

life is extremely funny.
my best friend just told me she doesn't like me anymore. haha. i can't believe i'm crying, 'cause a few months back we fought, and i swear, i hated her too, for a while..but its funny that it has come to this. you know, its like, sometimes you do so much for that one person and then that person stops considering your importance and it hurts, well, its worse when that person stops considering you at all. haha. i just wanted to make things alright. i guess, i'm just not worth it. to hell with humans. i'm done trying to be nice. i'm not nice. and i won't try anymore. they think i'm a bitch, well they haven't seen one yet!

saudade.

I don't like people. There, I said it. I mean, if I like someone, its just too much, and then after a while, I realize that that person is not that great, after all..and then I feel all drained. Or, if I don't like someone, I don't like them at all. What the hell is wrong with me. I DON'T EVEN WISH TO WRITE ABOUT THIS. What I wish to write about is I don't even know. I'm so messed up. I'm crying. I DON'T WISH TO FINISH SCHOOL YET BECAUSE I DON'T WISH TO GO TO COLLEGE. I don't wish to go to college in India. I don't like India. There, I said it. People are fake. There are no kids or teenagers or stupid youth that should be blamed, THE WHOLE COUNTRY IS FAKE. So its in our blood. We can't change that. I was reading through my Political Science textbook yesterday, about the promises of Jinnah and Nehru..and how they said no blood will be spilled in their countries, of those belonging to other religions. BULLSHIT. So, the foundation of this country was fake. The country is full of culprits. We have no future. I sound so immature right now and I don't wish to change that, at least, I sound my age, for once. I FUCKING CAN'T WRITE ANYMORE.

you grow up and realize that nobody is right. you can't listen to anybody, 'cause at one of time, they were all wrong. and when they tell you something, they'll sound wrong to you, too. so why don't people just shut the fuck up? this is a messed up world. friends? family? acquaintances who seem to care out of the blue? THERE IS NOBODY WHO'D BE WITH YOU ALL OF THE TIME OR YOU'D WANT THEM TO BE WITH YOU ALL OF THE TIME. There will come a time when you'll get tired and you'd want them to leave. BUT you're a coward so you won't say it. You'll just dream about escaping someday, hoping and believing that there's a slight chance of it happening, SOMEFUCKINGDAY. Arguments rule everything, and you'll forever sound right to yourself, even if you're wrong, you'd do anything to prove yourself right..and when there are 2 sides, who blindly believe in their righteousness, the argument continues. No end. No flowers. No greetings, just a fucked up world.

I want to quit everything. And its funny to think about how I wasted my childhood, dreaming about death. What kind of a kid does that? whatthefuck. No, I DON'T MEAN DEATH WHEN I SAY THAT I WISH TO QUIT. I want to quit living in a society the way society wants me to. I don't wish to live in accordance to WHAT PEOPLE WILL SAY. WHY THE FUCK PEOPLE SAY? You see, its all connected. The same people live in accordance to your views..so you're fucking regulating the cycle of narrow-mindedness and psychotic-ism which flows in our blood. The fuck is wrong with these bigots! I don't wish to go to school or college, get a degree, GET MARKS IN ACCORDANCE TO WHAT I REMEMBER AND HAVEN'T MUGGED...WHAT THE HELL? THAT ISN'T EDUCATION. DO THESE FUCKING PEOPLE EVEN KNOW WHAT EDUCATION IS? I wish to learn whatever I want to. IT DOESN'T HAVE TO PROVIDE ME A PROOF OF WHAT I HAVE LEARNED. Because I don't have to fucking mug-up things. I want to travel. I WANT TO FUCKING DROP OUT. BUT, guess what, my "wants" will always remain "WANTS". I'd have to live with the fact that I can't do anything about it. This isn't my world. I don't fucking run it. I just have to sit here and pretend nothing is wrong because, according to everyone else, NOTHING IS WRONG. I'M JUST OVERFUCKINGREACTING. 

Emotional Prostitute.

I can seriously relate to this term. My mood switches from highly elated to I-wish-I-wasn't-alive in seconds. Well, mostly, because I don't even know whats wrong with me. Its my stupid weird brain that governs my stupid neurological system which releases stupid things and really pulls down my gut, making me feel sick. Maybe its the movie I'm watching again..its mostly those things that influence my behavior..but it shan't be. There's no way I can relate myself with Lilya 4-ever..or maybe I can, but I'm over that part of life. Or at least, I think I'm. God, what the fuck is wrong with me. I just wish to sleep.

Sacrifice.

People sacrifice so many things in life. Their favorite things. Their money. Their time (haha!). Their life. Oh, good. And their hair, at temples. Good Lord! Anyway.

I consider cutting my nails a sacrifice. Its tragic. Its like I cut off a lethal weapon that's a part of my own body. I must have been a cat in my previous life, but god, why do I have to cut nails >.< I'm not allowed to grow them in school (them bitches get scared!?!!) Just one more year in that place and I'll be free! But let me tell you, my nails are pretty awesome. Highly efficient when it comes to hurting people, cutting things (your skin, too), opening things (lol, don't even go there) but then again, when I go bowling, the ass of a bowl breaks my nails, EVERYFUCKINGTIME.

I'm scared they won't grow back again, someday..and then I'll be lonely without my nails. A vital part of me won't be there..its like death. I'll mourn. :/ But I hope that day never comes. It shouldn't. I have been nice to my nails. I cut them in the right manner, I control myself from piercing into someone else's skin, I shape them good..oh, god, why do I have to cut them >.< they even look good painted. +makes my finger look longer. Anyway, what's done, is done. I hope they grow back again, like they do, their normal length..which shall take around 3 weeks? Hopefully. God bless my nails and America (NOT!). Bless, Britain. :3

“I love unmade beds. I love when people are drunk and crying and cannot be anything but honest in that moment. I love the look in people’s eyes when they realize they’re in love. I love the way people look when they first wake up and they've forgotten their surroundings. I love the gasp people take when their favorite character dies. I love when people close their eyes and drift to somewhere in the clouds. I fall in love with people and their honest moments all the time. I fall in love with their breakdowns and their smeared makeup and their daydreams. Honesty is just too beautiful to ever put into words.”

The Host.

So, personally, I really liked the title of the movie. The Host. Its like the humans are inviting other souls (perhaps, aliens) to actually get into their body, voluntarily. Nevertheless, the theme of the movie serves the opposite purpose. Humans resist. Their souls are supposed to die while these new ones, aliens, take over their bodies. But then, out of nowhere, comes this nice alien soul which keeps the actual soul of some girl called Melanie alive 'cause her love for her brother and lover is too strong..blahblahblah. The movie is too slow but I think the direction and all is nice. Even the soundtrack isn't too bad. I guess, I like the actors too. Mel's uncle is nice. And it touches me when two of the human guys, when out to get resources are caught by the Seeker-aliens and they smash their truck into a wall to not get caught. It was sad. Otherwise, the movie depicts how humanity is still alive. [WHAT A MYTH] . anyway, it has some epic scenes too. Perhaps, the one where Mel's uncle shows her the harvest place. Epic use of mirrors. Haha. And her brother's sky-depiction. Pretty cool. A one-time-watch. I'm glad I didn't read the book.

“Perhaps there could be no joy on this planet without an equal weight of pain to balance it out on some unknown scale.”

—	Stephenie Meyer, The Host

PS. I thought, The Host was going to be about vampires. The thought of Aliens, didn't cross my mind, even for a second. Wow.

story of my life.

I have two moods:

One is highly sophisticated intellectual who goes into complex thoughts and is always moody and deep.

The other is an immature 5 year old that doesn't know how to control herself or her language or her actions.

There is no inbetween.

I'm posting it because I think its Epic. [Tumblr]

A Mom went to have dinner with her son who lives with his roommate.

During the course of the meal, his mother couldn't help but notice how handsome his roommate was. She had been suspicious about her sons sexuality but being a good mother she felt that he would let her know if and when the time was right but seeing the two together just made her more curious.

Over the course of the evening, while watching the interaction between the two she wondered even more if there was more here than meets the eye. Her son, sensing his mothers watchfully eye volunteered, “really Mom, I can tell what you’re thinking and you can just get it out of your mind, we are just roommates and nothing more”.

About a week later the roommate remarked, “ever since your mother was here the silver serving platter has been missing, do you think she took it?”

He responded, “Well I’m sure she didn’t but I will email her and ask just to be sure” he sat down and wrote:

Hey Mom
I’m not saying you did take the silver platter from the house and I am not saying you didn’t take it but the fact remains that it has been missing ever since you were here for dinner.
Love,
Your Son.

A couple days later he got a response from his mother:

Dear Son,
I am not saying that you do sleep with your roommate and I am not saying that you don’t sleep with him and you know I love you and could care less either way but the fact remains that if he was sleeping in his own bed he would have found the platter under his pillow.
When are the two of you coming for dinner?
Love,
Mom.

Don't speak, hush,
Revive, the moment's just begun.
What lingers beneath our skin,
Is the sweet scent of our sins.

Sneak-Peek into a Restless mind.

I just drank coffee. Coffee is supposed to make people get all-the-way-high..as in do something to their adrenaline thing so that they can stay awake and work..but nuh-uh, I drink coffee so I can sleep. My system of mechanism goes against what humanity is supposed to believe in. At least, I think so. I'm in the Anosh Irani mode. How? I've this tendency to adopt or rather, get adapted to the things, feelings, emotions I like, of something or somebody else's. If I like something; actually, if my brain likes something, (I don't know if my heart works right in the virtual sense, to love, be loved, feel and all that shit) but I have got an awesome brain, I tell you..at least, that's what I think..so I was saying, it adapts itself to behave through the emotion or thing I liked. For example, I act all disturbed when I watch something which really gets to me..like Requiem for a Dream..man, I thought my brain was mourning my heart's death or something (oh, I had a heart back then when I watched it). Anyway, Anosh Irani is an awesome writer..I think, the book is written out to be pretty pointless but it has some amazingness attached to it. Some quotes which will make you read some things a couple of times, again and again, some things which will make you think..a lot of shit..I mean, genuinely, the book ends with two people in the suburbs of Mumbai looking for a place to shit, or rather, waiting near the railway tracks for the morning train to pass so they can shit. Like wth? who writes such stuff? well, anyway, the protagonist's life's on a real time move. I can relate to him? yes. Maybe I adapt to emotions I can relate to. Relating to stuff amplifies my emotions, just like alcohol would do to normal people. Haha. Okay, so how I relate? The man is not able to attach himself to anything. He thinks to much. He believes cockroaches are evil, so do I. He doesn't like light most of the time, neither do I..but darkness isn't fancied much, either. Well, he wasn't too good with Literature..but like, never mind, we can't be all the way same. that'd make me think like Anosh stalked me through life or something..we ought to maintain differences. haha. His aggression has no bounds..well, I control mine, but his, dear reader, can kill. His scars, I'd like a crescent moon on myself, too. Too bad, they're all just lines. His dysfunctional family..he talks about this dream he has..about his family..around the end of the book..I have had a similar dream, a couple of years back. It was horrible. But it seemed real. Anyway, enough of the obsession. I just plan to write weirdness over this blog now. Anything, all the way weird. I'm weird. Let me be a little creepy too. Someday, I'll stop lying too. I can't decipher my lies well..the lying I do with myself, and the lying I do with others. What are lies? It can't be lies if I believe them to be my truths. So no, I don't lie 'cause I believe in them being my truth. Truth of life. Haha. I love indie music. Oh god, I feel serene. Keep it coming!