so psyched-ness is a permanent state of my mind now

And if there's somebody in your life who you think would only be remembered as a regret, maybe you need to chuck him out, here and now, because there's no going back. No pretending it never happened. Because it looks like the easiest option but sorry, it doesn't work out. You just realise they are too much 'into' you for you to shut them out. You realise you are not a child anymore and that closing your eyes will not make you invisible to other people. And when you open them again, things will be the same around you. That you only get to spend so much time in Fantasyland, and then 'Show's over', your ticket ain't valid no longer. Too much you-know-about-them, too much they-know-about-you, too much happiness, too much hurt, just too many memories. Decoding every subtle attempt at sarcasm, looking through every fake smile, catching every hint of a tear, and yet trying not to look into those omniscient eyes is no fun. You could be lucky and not run into him and everything would seem fine, but put yourself and your insane-mess-of-emotions within a 2 metre radius of him for a couple of hours, and you are no longer in the amethyst-bed-covers-and-cheery-lilac-curtains room: suffocated with teddy bears, karaoke-ing away to the latest Katy Perry, you are holding on to the phone listening to the dead staccato beats, trying not to let the tears stream down your face.

Piling up hopes, only to crumble into a heap-

I need to give up before I fall in too deep.

Note - Please don't take offences, anybody, it isn't about you, okay maybe it is, but it isn't just about you, its also the other you, and more of me and my indefatigable stream of abstruse thoughts.

---

My Dad asked me what I count as the happiest moment of my life, or maybe one of the moments I was exceptionally over-the-top happy? I could think of none. Has my life been that shallow and uninspiring? Can you tell me what was yours? Or if lucky, one of them happiest mo's?

---

I so need that Goa trip next week. Maybe I'll throw away my laptop and cell phone at home, disconnect from the world, and try and attain some 'moksha' from the proverbial 'moh-maya'.

To the end of the world and back

Sometimes more than anybody and anything else in the world, I hate myself. And its not about me obsessing over trivial things even when I am on my oh-God-am-stuck-with-trivial-mortals-who-obsess-about-broken-nails-and-broken-relationships trip. No, I am not talking about me the hypocrite. Or me, the biased bitch. *Yes, I am very very biased, and prejudiced, and judgemental. The very things that endear X to me are those I find repulsive in Y.*

So yesterday I was in a bad bad mood. And a 'how are you' sms from the DarkLord sent me to tears. Basically one of those phases when even a traffic jam can make you cry. And all I needed was a hug. And all I had in my room was my messy wali roomie. Only refuge, and I was very desperate. And as the roomie, who, by the way, I had called a bullshit-er 10 minutes ago, kindly wiped of the saline off my cheeks, all I could think of was if she had washed her hands after she'd used the loo the last time. And when I saw ink stains on her hands later, I really had bile up my throat.
I am such an ungrateful wretch. And mental filth is harder to get rid of than physical dirt.

***

Elaborating on why 'how are you'-ness psyches me a lot - sometimes when you've got nothing going right, and people ask how you are, and you mentally start framing an answer to that question, do you realise how sad and pathetic your existence is. Everything in a properly worded/sentence form always has a stronger impact. At least for 'words are all I have' people like me, who unconsciously compose a narrative of every moment they spend awake, to exhaust on somebody who's probably not even interested in listening. I sound like dripping depression all the time these days. I am not like that, really. When I am not on my self-hating guilt trips, I am normally euphoric, delirious and delusional. Ask people who talk to me at 2 in the night. People who have all the time in the world to change their gmail theme, but not a moment to send in a one statement reply. :|

***

Do you remember kids going "You're mental" when they meant "You're mad"? And even though the former isn't grammatically correct, don't you find it infinitely cuter?
Doesn't it feel like somebody stopped short of saying 'You're mentally retarded', which though, would be a medical condition, which shouldn't be joked around with, but then so is madness. Somehow mentally retarded sounds all technical and hence, much more serious. That's the advantage with big words. Or maybe disadvantage. You can call somebody mad, and there'll be no issues, but call someone a retard, and people could take offense. Plus it sounds nasty too. Its weird how the same meaning words have different connotations. 'Pagal' is something now used affectionately. And insane sounds so cool. Egad. Excuse, its just me, the random bullshit-er.

***

"Why don't you ever look at me when I am talking to you?"
"So you caught me."
"Yes, but why? I am not that ugly, you know, nobody's got their cardiac arrested by merely looking at me, yet."
"Geez. Its because I am afraid.."
"Now I'm scary as well? So is it like scarily ugly or uglily scary?"
"I am scared I won't be able to match up to the trust I see, or rather try to avoid, in your eyes."
"If only you would look into my eyes for long enough, you would realise.."
"Realise what?"
"That they are dark brown."

From Bad to Worse

Self-Obsessing.

# The movie 'Koi Mil Gaya' and the whole alien thing scared the hell out of me.

# Virtually everything scares the hell out of me.

# I hate running, but not because of the fear of sweat, or physical exertion, but because am scared I would fall.

# The "smell" of deos make me pukey. I can't stand (or stand next to) people who use them. Smelling all soapy and fresh is nice, but deos are total bleh-ness.

# I hate it when people write "ya" when they mean "yeah".

# Bad english totally turns me off. I almost had a crush on this guy once, but just in time, he went all "It is written on the behind of the book.."

# Sometimes I listen to loud music just to shut the voices in my head.

# I want to run away all the time, wherever I may be.

# I like, okay, not like maybe, but I prefer being alone and quiet in the dark. It both fascinates and scares the hell out of me, but i still do it, its therapy when i am in of those 'intermediate' phases, when there is something stuck between normalcy and full-on depression, like a knot in the chest, with me having no idea why. It pushes me to hardcore upset-ness, and then I can cry it out.

# I often wonder if 'cutting' is a form of penitence or is it a sin in itself?

# Why do we try to gain acceptance from the people who snub us most?

# I have, lately, failed to live up to my expectations of myself. And its not just academics am talking about. Its about me, the person, the good girl, or is she anymore? I hate the grown up me. I have turned so evil. :(

Sheesh. I wonder if I should publish it or just let it be.

How The Hedonistaah Got Kissed, Got Wild, and Got a Life

Well, that was kind of on the agenda for college, but things aren't going as per plan, whats new? I am not exactly having 'the time of my life'. I study because I have nothing else to do. How pathetic is that?
They say you learn all of life's best lessons in college, I agree. I have learnt.

> To wash clothes.
> To coexist whine-less-ly with creatures having more than 3 pairs of legs.
> To survive with a 5 hour sleep, rice for lunch and dinner, and no breakfast.
> To get my own glasses of water.
> To sleep with people who sound the 'Extreme' alarm on your 'Gross-o-meter'.
> The pros and cons of giving into those guilty pleasures. Actually just the cons.
> To stop cribbing. *Eh, what am I doing now?*
> To use stinky loos housing beauties which served as extras in 'the Exorcist'.
> To wear clothes inside the shower, which is exactly 1 square foot in area.
> To overcome my dettol-addiction.
> How it feels to be snapped at. *No, its not somebody in campus*.
> What Charlie Chaplin meant by "I love walking in the rain, 'cause noone knows I'm crying".
> There's no place like home. I always believed so, but now the faith is like Reinforced Cement Concrete.
> That I can be super-pseudo when I want to. Bad bad girl.
> That I can be super-selfish, super-irritating, super-bugging, esp. to this one super-nice guy, if you're reading it, which I hope you are, I am terribly sorry, for the millionth time. Your the first person I completely adored in here, and I have a hunch you'll be the last.
> Nobody fusses over you the way your parents do.
> To stop being so hopeful. It doesn't help.

You three, you know who you are, I'll always love you mostest, and the more I see the people here, the more I miss you. Its called the Theory of Relativity. ;)

PS - And again, you three, don't get all scared and call me up after you read this. I am not suicidal, not yet.

aka OCD

Having seen IIT-Delhi through the eyes of quite a LOT of students, and ex-students, by reading their blogs here, some dating right from 2005, I have an image in mind. And right now, I also can't seem to decide whether to be a full-on nerd and study 24-7, or balance acads with extracs. What I also know is whatever I decide, is going to have no consequence on what I actually end up doing. Its just that am very pretty 'vela' (see, am getting hold of the delhi slang) and so, fantasise, more than a fair amount, about my life there.
I may discontinue this blog in a fortnight, I don't know what it is, but am in this 'disconnecting' phase. I don't know what I hate so much about right now, but I just want to start afresh. I want to get rid of my old messenger list, my blog, my memories of school, every thing and every so-called friend in my so-called social circle. I hate the fact that this guy who is supposedly this very-good-also-sometimes-called-the-best friend, is going to the very same place as me. I completely despise it.
What is my problem.(?)
I have no idea.
I am, maybe, still a child, like everybody says I am. I live in utopia. I want everybody to be perfect, the way I believe perfect is. Self-Note: Stop. Am not going there.

I am obsessed. I am compulsive. And I am a disorder.
Stay away.