This space has been dead and there has been no urge to write. To be fair, my friend Rorschach has already said this. But he has borrowed my words before, and since mine are on long vacation - I shall borrow his.
In my case though, i'm not sure it is entirely honest. The statement. There has been no urge for me to write what is permissible to be written in this space. The qualifier. That dear qualifier completes my sentence. It brings it meaning. Who is to say what will be your qualifier in your life, what will bring your life that completeness and meaning.
and how she rambles after such a long break. can we stop reading now
no wait. I have some more
Tamil movies. They are so shady post 11p.m. Yet here I am in complete drunken state watching them. In a way, its comforting to not have to see size minus ones and zeroes and whatever the fuck else they've come up with nowadays to describe really thin women. Yes, they look great but they have denied themselves a lot to get there and one can only hope it was worth all the food missed.
If it was pure genetics, man. screw them.
I wish I could've been a model. Then again, I was always allergic to cigarette smoke and I do love food. But whenever I pass the giant Zara ad on my way out of Phoenix Mills, I can't help but imagine myself standing there with a gaunt face and hunched up shoulders, pouting. Pouting that perfect pout - you might find the anorexic figure of me repulsive but some girl will look up at me and say - I want that dress.
Just, I want that dress
I do want that dress.
...
Please don't go, I have some more.
Umbrellas
what about them
I'm not sure about whether I like them.
I'm not sure if I like umbrellas. Am I happy they keep me dry. Do they even really keep me dry.
Seems like off late all they do is cause me massive disappointment and make me realise how completely incapable of handling basic responsibility I am.
I have lost (almost) 2 umbrellas in the past one week. One is lost for good - the other, since my friend dropped me home today, she has had the good sense to take the thing home.
Damn you umbrella. Who are you to make me feel this upset. Stupid piece of plastic crap.
....
Do you think you believe in alternate universes. Alternate lives. That with each huge decision you have in front of you which has a THIS WAY or THAT WAY situation attached - you are actually carving your life from then on out to go forth with one decision while the other goes with the other.
Lets say....You quit work, and you stay at work - the decision actually comes before you to be made - do you think, that stomachy feeling you get while making such decisions is actually a side effect to the creation of an alternate universe.
Do you think you and I live happily together in an alternate universe.
I gave an example of work, let's stick to that shall we? So basically there is a me out there who makes invitation cards or takes photographs for a living and there is a me here who continues as life is. If this phenomenal alternate universe creating ability truth were to be revealed to you - would you feel happier making the dumbass decision of continuing with life as is - or would you leave that to your alternate self.
Does that matter.
....
I broke an entire bottle of pickle this morning. So the pickle is also wasted because it may have bits of glass in it now. It was a pickle which really made me happy. Lime pickle. The other pickle couldve gotten messed - but no, it was this lime pickle.
Maybe the other bottle broke in an alternate universe. snicker*
Fuck you.
Seriously.