So I love tags, I really do. Especially when I'm suffering from writers block, as I am at the moment and I thought this one, from Mincat, who got it from the Bride, was a particularly good one. However, I was rather thrown by the complexity of their disclaimers, it wouldn't have occured to me to include one. They do make excellent points however, so instead of writing my own, I am directing you to their lovely pages.
Thusly, the following are my Manly Traits:
1. I LOVE Football, passionately. Being Indian, I am compelled to watch Cricket avidly, but my heart belongs to Football.
2. I am a devoted gamer. And I'm not bad either. Also in this vein, Star Wars fanaticism, as well as avid interest in most Sci-Fi and Fantasy.
3. I own three pairs of shoes. No really, just three. I have an anti-shoe fetish.
4. I am a power shopper. I simply can't browse (the only exception being bookshops, where I could spend eternity. Heaven for me would be an enormous bookshop with comfy chairs and a coffee shop), and I hate malls. Clothes shopping is an absolute nightmare, and I avoid it as much as possible. As a result, many of my clothes are more than ten years old, and I'm happy to say I can still wear some of them.
5. I do tend to be protective and chivalrous, though I can't stand simpering, damsel in distress type women. This is probably also a manly trait though. However I have just realised that I don't particularly like being on the recieving end of chivalry, I find it insulting if men think I can't carry my own bags or open doors without their help.
6. I am not terribly particular about clothing. I often wear things that have holes in them, or are crushed, and am not terribly fussed about what I am wearing. I also have low maintainance hair and make-up habits, so I'm perfectly happy walking in the rain.
7. I LOVE food. And am very capable of eating vast quantities of it, unapologetically.
My Womanly Traits:
1. I am obsessed with my weight. A great deal of my happiness depends on how much I weigh, which is deeply sad.
2. I love to bake.
3. It takes me forever to get ready. I dont know why it is so, but I simply can't rush the process.
4. I love to talk, about feelings. I'm not one for mush or sentimentality, but I'm not one to feel something and not share it either.
5. I LOVE Sex and the City. I'm sure I don't need to elaborate on this.
(I can't seem to think of anymore girly traits, though I'm sure they exist. Feel free to make suggestions!)
Also, Happy Budday Mincat. TheDragon loves you madly and hopes you have the best year ever.
Sunday, 11 July 2010
Sunday, 20 June 2010
(Untitled)
The key to forgetting,
Someone said,
Was to start small
Like your keys, your library books
To stop making associations
Like the way you smell
That song you loved
Your favorite term of endearment
Lie (to myself)
I will see you again, Its not really over
We would have been great together
(And to you) I hate you
Throw away the random things
That we made together
That business card, the red dragon tissues
The newspaper we read on Sunday
Then to get to the point of forgetting
To stop seeing you everywhere
To spend a few idle moments,
Without caressing you with my thoughts
My cardboard boxes are packed
I await the empty space
That comes with forgetting
The way you loved me
*With apologies to Thoughtspotting
Someone said,
Was to start small
Like your keys, your library books
To stop making associations
Like the way you smell
That song you loved
Your favorite term of endearment
Lie (to myself)
I will see you again, Its not really over
We would have been great together
(And to you) I hate you
Throw away the random things
That we made together
That business card, the red dragon tissues
The newspaper we read on Sunday
Then to get to the point of forgetting
To stop seeing you everywhere
To spend a few idle moments,
Without caressing you with my thoughts
My cardboard boxes are packed
I await the empty space
That comes with forgetting
The way you loved me
*With apologies to Thoughtspotting
Saturday, 19 June 2010
*some text missing*
I've been thinking of what to say to you, that will make sense for us. I want to tell you that I miss you, and that I really want to see you again, but the professional help I'm finally getting tells me that this is just a delusion. Apparently all this turmoil and pain inside me isn't real, its just my part in a play, the script for which was embedded in my sub-conscious when I was a child. A play in which you must break my heart and I must let you, just like I've let it happen a hundred times before, when the only thing that changed was the person playing your part. Except this time I mustn't.
I want to tell you how much I loved touching you, how much I loved falling asleep with you curled up around me and waking up knowing you would still be holding me. The way you'd kiss my fingers. I so want to call you, to ask you how the move went, how you like the new city, what the shop looks like and how much he's messed it up. To tease you about how badly your country is playing in the World Cup. I want to tell you that though I say its too late, I'm really hoping it isn't, that you still want to fight for us. That I hate that we can't talk to each other anymore. That though they say what I feel for you isn't real, that its just a result of my childhood trauma and self destructive nature, I am screaming for you on the inside.
But I can't say anything to you, not until I'm no longer broken. So even though I pick up my phone a hundred times a day to reply to your message, I won't.
You were right though, we would have been great.
I want to tell you how much I loved touching you, how much I loved falling asleep with you curled up around me and waking up knowing you would still be holding me. The way you'd kiss my fingers. I so want to call you, to ask you how the move went, how you like the new city, what the shop looks like and how much he's messed it up. To tease you about how badly your country is playing in the World Cup. I want to tell you that though I say its too late, I'm really hoping it isn't, that you still want to fight for us. That I hate that we can't talk to each other anymore. That though they say what I feel for you isn't real, that its just a result of my childhood trauma and self destructive nature, I am screaming for you on the inside.
But I can't say anything to you, not until I'm no longer broken. So even though I pick up my phone a hundred times a day to reply to your message, I won't.
You were right though, we would have been great.
Wednesday, 9 June 2010
Frankly Scarlet, I Don't Give a Damn
I should be upset, but I am strangely relieved. The thing is, I wasn't sure. I wasn't sure that what they had said was true, I wasn't sure that I was making the right decision, I wasn't sure that they were right about you.
And then you left, for the very reason that I was afraid you would, for the reason that they said you would, for the reason that you know is the nameless terror that doesn't let me sleep at night.
And I can't stop laughing, because despite everything you said you were, everything you said we were, all the times you lamented the other men in my life who had done terrible things to me, despite how much you said you would never hurt me, you're just the like the rest of them.
So now I'm sure. And no matter what changes, even if I am no longer broken on the inside anymore, you and I are done.
*GRIN*
And then you left, for the very reason that I was afraid you would, for the reason that they said you would, for the reason that you know is the nameless terror that doesn't let me sleep at night.
And I can't stop laughing, because despite everything you said you were, everything you said we were, all the times you lamented the other men in my life who had done terrible things to me, despite how much you said you would never hurt me, you're just the like the rest of them.
So now I'm sure. And no matter what changes, even if I am no longer broken on the inside anymore, you and I are done.
*GRIN*
Wednesday, 5 May 2010
The Leap, to Death
Why do men have to lie?
I have always trusted the men in my life, simply because I believe that attempting a relationship without that basic element in place is stupid. If you can't trust the person you're with you're going to be miserable, and so its not worth being with them at all. And this worked very well for me, I had numerous relationships where I was never plagued by the stress of having to worry about what my partner wasn't telling me. I believed that I was being told everything relevant. Until of course I discovered that I wasn't.
Being on the receiving end of that kind of dishonesty is heartbreaking. God it is so painful you want to rip your heart out and set it on fire just to make the pain stop. It isn't the infidelity as much as the knowledge that something you gave your heart and soul to was a lie. That every time you smiled at the person sharing your life they were smiling at someone else in exactly the same way, that the love which enveloped you and made you believe you were a part of something magical was just a ruse to trick you into letting your guard down. That the time you spent curled up together, speaking softly late into the night, fingers entwined, your heart bursting with the intensity of your feelings for each other was just a hollow pretense, tainted by their absolute disrespect for something that should have been sacred. That the way your heart would leap at the thought of seeing them and touching them was a farce, it was just you being a fool in love with someone who was pretending they felt the same way. The emotion, the feeling, the promises that you make to someone you are in a relationship with should be sacrosanct. They should be pure and unsullied by the sordidness of lies and deception and sexual gratification. And when you find out it wasn't it kills you, slowly, piece by piece by you can feel yourself dying inside. And you can never trust the way you used to. That's the worst part of being lied to by someone you trusted completely, you are cursed to a lifetime of wondering if you are being made a fool of again.
I have never felt this kind of panic, never felt this lost or used or swamped by a nameless terror. I have no proof that I'm being lied to again, all I have are the smallest rumours, and I find myself cold and shaking with fear. I am terrified that I am going to have to go through that hell one more time and the thought makes me want to curl up and cry my heart out. The way I refused to do the first time it happened. This time will be so much worse.
I have always trusted the men in my life, simply because I believe that attempting a relationship without that basic element in place is stupid. If you can't trust the person you're with you're going to be miserable, and so its not worth being with them at all. And this worked very well for me, I had numerous relationships where I was never plagued by the stress of having to worry about what my partner wasn't telling me. I believed that I was being told everything relevant. Until of course I discovered that I wasn't.
Being on the receiving end of that kind of dishonesty is heartbreaking. God it is so painful you want to rip your heart out and set it on fire just to make the pain stop. It isn't the infidelity as much as the knowledge that something you gave your heart and soul to was a lie. That every time you smiled at the person sharing your life they were smiling at someone else in exactly the same way, that the love which enveloped you and made you believe you were a part of something magical was just a ruse to trick you into letting your guard down. That the time you spent curled up together, speaking softly late into the night, fingers entwined, your heart bursting with the intensity of your feelings for each other was just a hollow pretense, tainted by their absolute disrespect for something that should have been sacred. That the way your heart would leap at the thought of seeing them and touching them was a farce, it was just you being a fool in love with someone who was pretending they felt the same way. The emotion, the feeling, the promises that you make to someone you are in a relationship with should be sacrosanct. They should be pure and unsullied by the sordidness of lies and deception and sexual gratification. And when you find out it wasn't it kills you, slowly, piece by piece by you can feel yourself dying inside. And you can never trust the way you used to. That's the worst part of being lied to by someone you trusted completely, you are cursed to a lifetime of wondering if you are being made a fool of again.
I have never felt this kind of panic, never felt this lost or used or swamped by a nameless terror. I have no proof that I'm being lied to again, all I have are the smallest rumours, and I find myself cold and shaking with fear. I am terrified that I am going to have to go through that hell one more time and the thought makes me want to curl up and cry my heart out. The way I refused to do the first time it happened. This time will be so much worse.
Monday, 19 April 2010
Blah Blah Blah
I have spent a lot of time with myself of late, trying to figure out a good way to deal with some of the issues that are crippling me right now. What have I realised? I don't need time with myself, I need time away from myself. Of course this realisation has come at a ridiculously inconvenient time. I have exams starting very shortly, which means that I will have to spend even more time with just me and Maroon 5. A situation that is not conducive to life changingness, let me tell you.
So anyway, I did what any mature adult would do and booked a flight to see my girlfriends for a weekend. Three days before my first exam. I am in so much trouble. Six feet from the edge and all that. I don't care though. I know, or rather hope, that at some point I will start to care again and then I will feel very stupid.
If only real life came with a reboot option. I suppose if you believe in rebirth and all that it does. Blah I say, Blah.
So anyway, I did what any mature adult would do and booked a flight to see my girlfriends for a weekend. Three days before my first exam. I am in so much trouble. Six feet from the edge and all that. I don't care though. I know, or rather hope, that at some point I will start to care again and then I will feel very stupid.
If only real life came with a reboot option. I suppose if you believe in rebirth and all that it does. Blah I say, Blah.
Wednesday, 7 April 2010
Afraid of the Colour Blue
You didn't just kiss my lips
I felt you breathe
Against my heart
And from that moment
I belonged to you
And nothing has changed
Even though you've left
You're still here
My heart still trembles
When I think of your kisses
*An attempt, at a love poem. Alright, a rather amateur attempt at a love poem.
I felt you breathe
Against my heart
And from that moment
I belonged to you
And nothing has changed
Even though you've left
You're still here
My heart still trembles
When I think of your kisses
*An attempt, at a love poem. Alright, a rather amateur attempt at a love poem.
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