I Would Like To Go Back To Venus, Please...

At 26, I finally realise that the joke is on us women. And I am not bitter about it. I find it funny instead. Funny and even relived that I am freed from all illusions (Okay, maybe not all, just this one then. And I am sure there will be many more such epiphanies and I hope by then I will have learnt not to hit myself on the head with the "Why" bat but till such time, this is the "Oh My Gut" revelation of my life).

So okay, if this is how it is meant to be, this is how we shall do it. Countless women have made peace with it and so who am I so special to fight it? Nobody. I have to make peace with it too. And I have.


But you know what gets my goat? Why for the love of kittens (lot of expletives) did no one tell us all this? Like seriously dude? You told us not to trim our own bangs and you think this would not be important life-changing information?


But that's how life is, no one tells you the important bit and you have to learn it the hard hard way. Like I always say, it is unfair that they don't hand us some sort of a guide when we land here on this planet. Gross gross injustice.


G, I am finding it all very comical. I know you don't and I just hope you get over all this. I hope one day we can sit in some fancy bar with our fancy cocktails (or plain old beers) and look back at all this and feel nothing but calm and maybe even manage a chuckle, who's to know darling? :) Maybe we will! And I hope it's all soon.

(And I so wish you were here. Miss you so very much and equally hate you for being so goddamn far!)


And yes, I know there are no handbooks and that we have mothers instead, but listen, which daughter listens to her own mother? Right? And I know it's a tad bit too late but I accept: Mothers are right. Every daughter should listen to her mother. Even at 26. Remind me that often now.



P.S: It should be noted that I was not cribbing throughout. I am sure you will agree. I was merely, what do they say? Oh yes! I was merely "stating facts". Okay, doll?

The Wheel Breaks The Butterfly...

I am tired. And hurt.

Very.

But I won't do anything about it. I'll just soak in it for now.

I am angry at myself. I am so angry at myself.

*****
UD asked me why I am not moving out of this place. Almost all things here are broken and to make matters worse, I have one weird flatmate.

I couldn't answer then.

I always liked taking the broken and fixing it. I have never understood this about me. Why? Why this obsessive need to just fix things? I will live with the shittiest things, in the shittiest circumstances, but I will not quit...just so I could make the shitty not-so-shitty. It is a weird kind of pleasure I seek. Transforming things. And I realize what a dangerous habit this is.


But I guess which is why I am still living in this place. It's a nice house, or rather it has so much potential to be a nice house, but so many things are broken here, I guess that is what is keeping me here. I'll leave once I fix this place up. Make it nice.


I wish I could fix things in my life as easily. I wish it was as easy as buying a new wardrobe or buying a new pan and a nice green plant and adding new fixtures and nice gold curtains and spraying some air freshener.


But it's not.


And I am learning how it's not. And I am learning to let it just be. I am learning to live with the broken.


I'll soak in that too for now.

*****

Oo-oo-oo, oo-oo-oo, oo-oo-oo.
Oo-oo-oo, oo-oo-oo, oo-oo-oo.

When she was just a girl,
She expected the world,
But it flew away from her reach,
So she ran away in her sleep.

Dreamed of para-para-paradise,
Para-para-paradise,
Para-para-paradise,
Every time she closed her eyes.

Oo-oo-oo, oo-oo-oo, oo-oo-oo.
Oo-oo-oo, oo-oo-oo, oo-oo-oo.

When she was just a girl,
She expected the world,
But it flew away from her reach,
And the bullets catch in her teeth.

Life goes on,
It gets so heavy,
The wheel breaks the butterfly.
Every tear, a waterfall.
In the night,
The stormy night,
She closed her eyes.
In the night,
The stormy night,
Away she flied.

I dream of para-para-paradise,
Para-para-paradise,
Para-para-paradise,
Whoa-oh-oh oh-oooh oh-oh-oh.
She dreamed of para-para-paradise,
Para-para-paradise,
Para-para-paradise,
Whoa-oh-oh oh-oooh oh-oh-oh.

La-la
La-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la.

Still lying underneath the stormy skies.
She said oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh.
I know the sun's set to rise.

This could be para-para-paradise,
Para-para-paradise,
Para-para-paradise,
Whoa-oh-oh oh-oooh oh-oh-oh.

This could be para-para-paradise,
Para-para-paradise,
Para-para-paradise,
Whoa-oh-oh oh-oooh oh-oh-oh.

Oh, oh. Oo-oo-oo-oo-oo.

This could be para-para-paradise,
Para-para-paradise,
Para-para-paradise,
Whoa-oh-oh oh-oooh oh-oh-oh.

Oo-oo-oo, oo-oo-oo, oo-oo-oo
Oo-oo-oo, oo-oo-oo, oo-oo-oo
Oo-oo-oo, oo-oo-oo, oo-oo-oo
Oo-oo-oo, oo-oo-oo...

Underpants For Miss Sussie...

I now realise why I have always loved the sea, why I always felt this pull.

'Cause it always listens. You don't need to say a word...all you need to do is just sit there, just be...and the sea takes in all your sorrows, your pain, and worries and drowns them in its vast blueness...it just accepts everything you throw in. No wonder then, every time I am close to the sea, I want to drown.

*****
Thanks to the mid-night conversation with a dear friend, I have decided I won't crib henceforth...a BIG resolution. It's going to be a little difficult sticking to this one...but I'mma gonna try (So many people around me are going to be happy! Heh).

And while I am at it, I am gonna throw in "Don't sweat about smaller stuff" too.

You can tell me how awesome I am already.

*****
I am now singing this.

If you watched the video too, thanks :) I feel much better now.

Escaping Life...

A friend once asked me if I think I'll ever find my happily ever-after. Without thinking I said no, maybe not. I am such a miserable soul I said, I am always pining after something, sulking, brooding. I wonder if I'll ever be happy.

I have been thinking about it. As the 27th inches closer, I have been thinking about a lot of things. These days what gives me a fright is that very thought of happiness. Will I ever be in that place where I'll be happy? Where I can feel my soul satisfied? I am not satisfied. Something's missing, a lot many things actually. I want them all. I wonder if I'll ever get them. Am I being greedy? No. I just do not want to settle.

And deep down, I believe, or atleast want to, that I'll find it. The elusive pot at the end of the rainbow. Somewhere, something tells me I'll find my own slice of inner peace. Maybe it's that bottomless well of optimism that's pushing me through. Maybe I really will. I don't know.

For now, I think I am going to believe that I will. Maybe if I believe, I really will. 

It's Easier Waiting Than...

I don't know if he has written to you after that. I sometimes imagine he did write you letters, many letters, but chickened out at the last minute and stowed them away in the bottom drawer where he also hides all those ghosts. You know what a chicken he is when it comes to these sort of things, don't you now? Maybe he even did send those letters to you and maybe they just got lost somewhere on the way. I am sure they'll reach you one day and you'll come running happily to me and read them aloud and we'll both smile and be happy for each other.

In the mean time, I know it's painful to wait, painful to check your mailbox everyday and not find anything in there, painful to hope when even hope has given up on you, but, won't you make yourself a nice hot cup of tea and just wait?

Maybe, maybe he's just waiting for the right words?

Just Have Something In There...

“I want a soul mate who can sit me down, shut me up, tell me ten things I don’t already know, and make me laugh. I don’t care what you look like, just turn me on. And if you can do that, I will follow you on bloody stumps through the snow. I will nibble your mukluks with my own teeth. I will do your windows. I will care about your feelings. Just have something in there.” - Henry Rollins

Where Did That Word Disappear?

Go on, I dare you. I can see you looking at me the way you are, just like that. What are you going to do with it then? Yes I’m challenging you; look at me standing here, I’m not budging, it’s your move. I’m an elven Liv Tyler steeling against a wraith—if you want me, you can come and claim me. I’m not even packing Hobbit over here, I’m just waiting casually for you to cross whatever obstacle you see in your path. See, I’m tired of touching your thigh just this way, or placing my hand over yours just so; I want you to romance me.

Now you know I’m not one for gender stereotypes, I’ve asked guys out in the past and I’ll do it again. I’ve paid for their drinks and their dinners and I don’t care. I’ve changed their light globes. I’ve been strong for them when they’ve been emotional. I don’t like it when people say women are so-and-so or men are so-and-so, but goddamn it I am tired of this realism. I don’t want to be politically correct any more, I just want you to romance me. I am empowered, educated, and aware, and now, just for a moment, I want to be the princess you think is worth slaying dragons over.

I want you, once you’re done awkwardly avoiding catching my eye, once you’re done pretending you don’t notice me, once you’re done with insecurely waiting for me to make the first move, to ask me out. I don’t want you to text me or email me. I want you to say it to my face. I want you say it in a moment that will catch me completely off guard, and I want you to stumble over your words and I want you to blush, and I want to do the exact same as I accept.

Or you could just skip all the formalities and just kiss me. When we’re laughing the way we do, you should just kiss me. It doesn’t need to be in the rain or with fireworks exploding in the background. It can be at the bar or in a crowded street or anywhere, I don’t care—just kiss me you fool. And let’s both be gleefully embarrassed afterwards and hold hands in silence for a moment while we both digest the euphoria of our first kiss.

I want you to not let anything stand in your way. I want you to come for me, to sweep me off my feet with a simple look. I want you to want me in this grand, clichéd way, but without doing any of those grand cliché things. We can just watch a movie and drink some wine, as long as you let me snuggle into your side while we do it. And then, because you listen to me when we’re talking and you’re getting to know me so well, I want you to let me have the last slice of pizza, or the last bite of cake (but I’ll insist that we share it anyway, because I’ll know you are romancing me).

You should be impulsive when you’re romancing me. You shouldn’t wait the requisite 3 days to call or text me, you should just do it when it hits you. When your desire for me, to see me, to smell me, to hear my voice is so compelling there’s nothing else for you to do. I want you to be constantly thinking about me, and to do innocuous little things that to me, are loaded with meaning because they reflect the ways in which you are learning me. I want you to be reckless and passionate and I want you to let me be reckless and passionate too. I want you to disengage your baggage for me, and I want you to romance me like you’ve never romanced before.

And when you’re romancing me, I want you to challenge me and argue with me about my opinions. I want you to romance me in this dangerous haphazard way which screams of imperfection—which makes everything all the more romantic, because it’s so wildly flawed, and present and LOUD. I want you to look at me like the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen when I’m at my worst, and I want you to embrace all the sides of me as you get to know them, as part of some ineffable creature you can’t untangle. I want you to romance me because when you think about it, you really can’t see any other way.

From, Thought Catalog.