It sucks. They suck actually.
Humour me for a minute. And look back a few years, assuming it’s been a few years. Back to the time when you were this cocky little twit who thought the world would change its angle of inclination, with but a glare. Angle of inclination, quality of public toilets, the few tonnes of gold in Dalal Street, whatever got you off.
Come back. Look again. Still that cocky?
I have a few adjectives to help you articulate what you see.
Disillusioned. Confused. Rudderless. Dazed. Stagnated. Sold out. Compromised. Married. Unhappy. Pissed.
I wonder why I, and you, relate to these wretched words. More so, considering the impossibly romantic missions I, and you, started out with.
Amnesia? Denial? Or some totally filmy f#$*ing “circumstances”? Nope. I, and you, still remember that stupid f#$*ing dream. It’s there, in the back of the head, like a throbbing f#$*ing migraine.
Then why this rut? Why this mucky marsh full of tiny green bugs with black dotted wings? And why me, and you?
It sucks. They suck actually.
EMIs. Credit cards. Petty politics. Minor irritants. Some office psychopath’s sycophancies. Insecurities. Fears. Their virulent tendencies. Prejudices.
They suck. Like a regiment, no, an army of vacuum cleaners. They suck away joyfully. Gleefully. At what I, and you always thought will define you. At what I, and you thought was indestructible. Inscrutable. Impossible, even.
I, for one, have had enough.
Know where the plug is?
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Monkey on the mind
Did you ever have this feeling that there was a voice in your head? Telling you, urging, pleading, pushing, badgering, teasing, and instigating you, to do something. Constantly and mercilessly yakking its way through everything you do, or even try to do.
Something that is not stupid, but super stupid. The kind of thing that people first laugh at, ridicule and then put down as absolute insanity. Even suicide.
But that voice presses on. Constantly and mercilessly. Because deep down, somewhere in one tiny crevice of your brain, you know it might just fly. Because deep down, you don’t want that voice to stop. Because deep down, you believe. Grudgingly, but surely.
It’s the kind of voice that will tear your world apart and paste it in a completely different configuration. The kind of a voice that has absolutely no comfort about it. The kind of voice that you’ve been waiting for all your life.
What do you do with this monkey?
Something that is not stupid, but super stupid. The kind of thing that people first laugh at, ridicule and then put down as absolute insanity. Even suicide.
But that voice presses on. Constantly and mercilessly. Because deep down, somewhere in one tiny crevice of your brain, you know it might just fly. Because deep down, you don’t want that voice to stop. Because deep down, you believe. Grudgingly, but surely.
It’s the kind of voice that will tear your world apart and paste it in a completely different configuration. The kind of a voice that has absolutely no comfort about it. The kind of voice that you’ve been waiting for all your life.
What do you do with this monkey?
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Friday, September 19, 2008
Who are you? Really.
I think this is a beautiful story. A human story. Could be anybody's . Mine. Yours. Anybody's. That it is about a girl sexual orientation is just incidental I think. It's about every thing, in a way. About how we repress ourselves. And about how knowingly, unknowingly, we live for someone else's approval.
I found this here.
You know, I think way too deeply about alot of things. I over anylize, and I look over at it, think about it, dream about thinking about it, and when it all just comes to this, and mainly ACCEPTING this:
I am a lesbian.
Ever since I was 8 years old, I have loved women. However, I’ve had my share of boyfriends, and *little* experiences with them. I’ve had my heart broken twice–but, I have realized, I was not IN LOVE with that boy, I was in love with my addiction…(*sexual hormones raging!* Which I’m FINALLY coming to equilibrium with my body…I can look at someone and not feel aroused, haha. Anyways! Moving on.) When I was eight, there was a girl that lived just a few houses down the road. Her name was Stephanie; she was older than me, had mid-length brown hair, and (blue? green?) eyes. I looked up to her, and adored her.
One night…well, we “played” a bit. I don’t know how, but the next morning, her mom and my mom found out. I remember standing at the corner, watching Stephanie cry in front of her mother. Her mom looked angry as she recalled the events.
I was ashamed. As much as I had wanted to do it again–despite my initial fear–I was ASHAMED of wanting her. At eight years old! I knew that boys and girls are “supposed” to like each other. And I knew where babies came from. So was I some kind of freak, I remembered thinking, was there something wrong with me?
So, life went on…
I’d had friends, mostly girls. I got boyfriends that I never really liked–all were mean and unintelligent–and my best friends…were so much more to me. But I never acknowledged my feelings. I think this is the first time I’ve ever really acknowledged my feelings at all.
I remember when I was 12, my friend–my best friend–had said out of the blue, “Wanna have sex with me?” As if we were talking about the weather. I had thought a minute, and after deciding that I wasn’t ready, and mybe she was lying and would laugh at me if I said yes, said “No.” She laughed and said, “Oh I was only joking. Haha, I’m a good actor aren’t I?” Ha. Sure.
I moved all over the place–Navy brat–and just…lived, I guess. I wasn’t exactly “aware” of many things.
It wasn’t until my Nana died in the car accident that I began to appreciate things for what they were; I had realized that I might be a lesbian. (six months or so after her death, and I was online ALOT of the time, lol.) I didn’t tell anyone, my brother being the religious nut at the time–WAY too obsessed with the Bible–and I tried to follow him. (Funny how a few years later he came out. Few years after that, he took his own life…*sighs* but that’s another story.)
I just wanted to be normal! I wanted to just grow up, go to college, get married and have babies with him like everyone else. And maybe act, to compensate for my “normalcy”.
It went on like this for a long, long time.
It wasn’t until quite recently that I have finally accepted myself for who I am, and stop deliberating, and understand that “normal” does not exist. I even came out *a little* to my dad. (I told him it might be possible, haha.) He said, “Tabby, I don’t care what you do–just as long as you’re happy. I love you for who you are.” (*^.^* Yay!) That moment, I was so happy. I’d been longing for a relationship with my dad, and it’s been awesome. My mother’s and I’s relationship has even improved a bunch, too.
Just by accepting myself, and going through all this over the past five, almost six years, has finally let some light into my life.
I’m happy~
I found this here.
You know, I think way too deeply about alot of things. I over anylize, and I look over at it, think about it, dream about thinking about it, and when it all just comes to this, and mainly ACCEPTING this:
I am a lesbian.
Ever since I was 8 years old, I have loved women. However, I’ve had my share of boyfriends, and *little* experiences with them. I’ve had my heart broken twice–but, I have realized, I was not IN LOVE with that boy, I was in love with my addiction…(*sexual hormones raging!* Which I’m FINALLY coming to equilibrium with my body…I can look at someone and not feel aroused, haha. Anyways! Moving on.) When I was eight, there was a girl that lived just a few houses down the road. Her name was Stephanie; she was older than me, had mid-length brown hair, and (blue? green?) eyes. I looked up to her, and adored her.
One night…well, we “played” a bit. I don’t know how, but the next morning, her mom and my mom found out. I remember standing at the corner, watching Stephanie cry in front of her mother. Her mom looked angry as she recalled the events.
I was ashamed. As much as I had wanted to do it again–despite my initial fear–I was ASHAMED of wanting her. At eight years old! I knew that boys and girls are “supposed” to like each other. And I knew where babies came from. So was I some kind of freak, I remembered thinking, was there something wrong with me?
So, life went on…
I’d had friends, mostly girls. I got boyfriends that I never really liked–all were mean and unintelligent–and my best friends…were so much more to me. But I never acknowledged my feelings. I think this is the first time I’ve ever really acknowledged my feelings at all.
I remember when I was 12, my friend–my best friend–had said out of the blue, “Wanna have sex with me?” As if we were talking about the weather. I had thought a minute, and after deciding that I wasn’t ready, and mybe she was lying and would laugh at me if I said yes, said “No.” She laughed and said, “Oh I was only joking. Haha, I’m a good actor aren’t I?” Ha. Sure.
I moved all over the place–Navy brat–and just…lived, I guess. I wasn’t exactly “aware” of many things.
It wasn’t until my Nana died in the car accident that I began to appreciate things for what they were; I had realized that I might be a lesbian. (six months or so after her death, and I was online ALOT of the time, lol.) I didn’t tell anyone, my brother being the religious nut at the time–WAY too obsessed with the Bible–and I tried to follow him. (Funny how a few years later he came out. Few years after that, he took his own life…*sighs* but that’s another story.)
I just wanted to be normal! I wanted to just grow up, go to college, get married and have babies with him like everyone else. And maybe act, to compensate for my “normalcy”.
It went on like this for a long, long time.
It wasn’t until quite recently that I have finally accepted myself for who I am, and stop deliberating, and understand that “normal” does not exist. I even came out *a little* to my dad. (I told him it might be possible, haha.) He said, “Tabby, I don’t care what you do–just as long as you’re happy. I love you for who you are.” (*^.^* Yay!) That moment, I was so happy. I’d been longing for a relationship with my dad, and it’s been awesome. My mother’s and I’s relationship has even improved a bunch, too.
Just by accepting myself, and going through all this over the past five, almost six years, has finally let some light into my life.
I’m happy~
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Testimonial
It was the custom in Ancient Rome for the men to place their right hand on their testicles when taking an oath. The modern term 'testimony' is derived from this tradition
Monday, September 1, 2008
Married Chips
This was an email forward.
After nearly 50 years of marriage, a couple was lying in bed one
evening, when the wife felt her husband, begin to massage her in ways he hadn't in quite some time.
It almost tickled as his fingers started at her neck, and then began
moving down past the small of her back. He then caressed her
shoulders and neck, slowly worked his hand down, stopping just over
her stomach.
He then proceeded to place his hand on her left inner arm, working
down her side, passing gently over her buttock and down her leg to her calf.
Then, he proceeded up her thigh, stopping just at the uppermost
portion of her leg. He continued in the same manner on her right
side, then suddenly stopped, rolled over and became silent.
As she had become quite aroused by this caressing, she asked in a
loving voice, 'Honey, that was wonderful. Why did you stop?'
To which he responded: 'I found the remote.'
After nearly 50 years of marriage, a couple was lying in bed one
evening, when the wife felt her husband, begin to massage her in ways he hadn't in quite some time.
It almost tickled as his fingers started at her neck, and then began
moving down past the small of her back. He then caressed her
shoulders and neck, slowly worked his hand down, stopping just over
her stomach.
He then proceeded to place his hand on her left inner arm, working
down her side, passing gently over her buttock and down her leg to her calf.
Then, he proceeded up her thigh, stopping just at the uppermost
portion of her leg. He continued in the same manner on her right
side, then suddenly stopped, rolled over and became silent.
As she had become quite aroused by this caressing, she asked in a
loving voice, 'Honey, that was wonderful. Why did you stop?'
To which he responded: 'I found the remote.'
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