Chew on it.

Chances are all we have.

Month: September, 2014

Fold in

Find someone you want to fold yourself in and
stay there. For the moment for the day for whatever
seems like eternity to you. Who needs a reason when
you can hear your heartbeat every second calm
running calm sprinting inaudible there again and
sprinting? Find arms that don’t love you but don’t
leave you because habit is greater than illusions of
love and a broken habit is easier to mend than a
broken hope. Find anyone someone any fucking one
who breaks you from the first moment especially if you
love putting yourself back together. Turn off the lights.

Today I learnt

She was supposed to
wed someone who she
changed her mind about
because she could sense a
distance before the knot was
tied and a distance before she
was his and instead she wed this
man who has seen it all, lost some
and was taking another chance at a
life everyone else gives up on but he
didn’t because he could see
that she would be there for
him and she too saw that
being for him made her
happy and so they got
married and they are
happy yet they will
always be looked
down upon by
them because
the world
hates
love.

Last night.

Everyone around me says they can do without the internet and I agree. I can do without it too.

Of course it isn’t a compulsive brain-damaging urge to want to stay online and browse all the time. It’s just that I have made so many friends through Twitter (little note – it’s part of the internet!) and they are across so many time zones and regardless of time zones, they are leading so many lives that I want to be part of each of them and I’m afraid of the day when even one of them doesn’t think of me if they are in crisis because I want to be there since that’s what friends do even if you have met once or never. I want to be there to share their joy, news, highlights, frustrations, rants, their pillow talk friend, their shoulder to cry on, their first SOS contact I want to be on their speed dial because what if they’re into something that they can’t tell their mom or what if they just want to hear a human voice? It’s not compulsive, it’s my emotional drive to not let anyone be alone, even if that means I get late to class in the morning and have to text an apology as the teacher takes a break to sip water and even if it means I have to skip gym before work and instead head to after work when my body is dragged through the day and has a thousand conversations with every soul I have interacted with running through my mind wondering what is the next most comforting thing to say because if you ever need reassurances I must be around to give it to you, to soften the blows and to set things straight. I don’t think of it as an obligation because I choose the people I interact with even if they are many and one day I don’t know who I love the most and who I would want to settle down with and I was pretty sure I didn’t take her name the last time someone asked me who my best friend was but hey, circumstances change and I can assure you that she really does think I’m the best friend in the world and for me, in my heart that is enough, even if she doesn’t remember what she told me the next day. I’m here for everyone and I like it, till the names blurred last night and I wanted to know who I am in love with and if I am in love at all and I had no answer because of so many names in the same list, each a promising candidate of my affections and a brilliant soul.

So I put my internet off, and I slept.

The slut question.

Hello.
What if I wasn’t meant to write?
I probably needn’t exist without this.
This new Radhika has started to scare me ever so little. For the first time, and hopefully the last, I judged myself and what I want from others and used the word ‘slut’. For myself. Strange because I don’t use the word on a normal day. For anyone. It’s not a bad thing to be anyone even a slut. But people don’t get it. There’s so much baggage with that word you sigh and put it down after weighing it a little and deciding that maybe this isn’t a weight you can drag so far.
Anyway. Thought and thought process was dismissed.
The thing about today is that I wanted to sit for a while longer and help this guy out. I don’t know what he was up to but it was one of those days I’d have got him the Woody Woodpecker and I think he’d have got the message.
How was your day?

image

Long ago.

I’m looking at him and the noise reduces.

No, the people are still talking and the party is still on. The discussion about Arsenal and Manchester won’t stop and it never will. The song is something I would have skipped on the player – you can’t even dance on this shit – and the girls are looking so beautiful – I’ll always wonder what they do to look that way.

Maybe they smile. I don’t know.

I can see them sitting together; whispering something, almost holding hands and something in me wants to smile but a bigger part feels like an intruder into their private moment. Of course, nothing’s up between them, but something could have been, had the time been right.

I’m standing still in the corner of the large room and there seems to be nothing I want to do to change this. I don’t like this but I don’t care enough to change it. Lips. On the neck. Yes, one guy’s out of his chair and has run out of points to argue against the other and needs a new distraction. Alright, come here. Your girl is just floating about in her own house, at her own party. Waiting for validation of her existence from you.

But I look at him, in his corner of brightness and flaw and perfection and I know there, there is my conversation.

Mahua

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Chances are all we have.

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