...

I can feel it, mocking me. A piece of paper, hidden, crumpled, half torn, mocking me. I couldnt throw it away, i just couldnt. It has everything. You may call it my whims, fancies, either way. It was important. I wipe the tears, its easy to do that now. I dont feel anymore, i choose not to. It wasnt suppose to be a war. I was trying to work with you, not against you. But if this is what you want, this is what you'll get it. I might lose, but i wont give up. I repeatedly ask myself the question, what am i going to do? It isnt some stupid adventure trip. I can force myself to go back, I really can. But i chose to fight, let me not run away. Its terrible pleading, asking for help, it kills you. Thank you to the 'jobless' stranger for the help, you didnt need to. Sorry for the mess. I will never forgive myself for getting you into it. Maybe it doesnt make a difference to you. It does to me. Im alone and im aware. Havent i put up a good fight already? Are there more lessons to be learnt? Suffering makes you strong, you dont feel anymore. No, i dont have a plan. No, i dont want to go back. Its nice here, random people, traffic, music, anxiety, no place to go. I'll wait for you, patiently. Im not going to fight you anymore. Take me while im still alive...

So, its over. Feels nice. The last few days have been miserable. I wish i could go back and change everything. Its been horrid. But im fine. Guess everything's okay. A new fear has engulfed my illusion though, the fear of loss. Every sentence said is the possibility of a misconception, a misunderstanding. There is just too much at stake. When desires are fulfilled, its nice. There's something missing again. There is always something missing. Or i demand too much. I've prayed for everything to just end. Simply. Tears come easily, a bit too easily. Annoying. Im not happy. And im not going to pretend to be. But sometimes i can be, dont please dont condition it then. i was happy, really happy. Dumbfounded maybe, but very happy. The above post doesnt make sense, but then alot of things dont. Its my first post of the year. My notebook hasnt been copied yet. Is there a need, maybe not. I shouldnt decide everything, all the time. Thank you to everyone who makes this worthwhile, i hope you know who you are. Whether its the backseat of a car, or baked cakes, or bhola prasad, or a game of cards, it was all beautiful. It was a reminder of what things were and should be. Tears dont mean anything, im not sure if laughter does either. I wish i understood something about moments, but im glad i dont. I would condition that as well. Im not horrible, i dont have random mood swings, especially on my birthday, one can speak to me when im pissed, i wont snap. This isnt a justification, its just a thought. How mean can i be? Slightly random, incomprehensibel, but this said everything i wanted to.

Stuck!

Asking, requesting, pleading, begging. Am done. Am not going to sit and sulk. Let things happen. Maybe they were meant to be this way. Who am i to complain anyway? Wish it didnt matter so much. Indirect communication. Angry words, unexpressed emotions, lonely emotions. Oh its all a game, play it and win, or lose. Doesnt matter.You are alone anyway. Dont be unfair. Dont kill yourself over this. But aint i already dead? Am confused. This space feels strange. Is it a void? Why cant i hear anyone? Why cant i speak? I cant feel anything. My heart doesnt beat. Its cold and dead. There i can see it, blood splattered, warm blood, lying on the floor. I stare. Try picking it up. Change my mind and walk away. Lets give it what it deserves. I decide. Again.

Its time

Yes, finally am ready to admit and accept the ending. The end that occured long back, and was denied. Annoying. I detest accepting reality, or maybe understanding my illusion. Its funny. I dont understand myself. I am stuck between hating myself and denying my existence. I wonder if i am a horrible person. No this isnt an attempt at self pity, i have had enough of that. Change is what i require. I need. I want to change. My reality is waiting for me. My illusion is my friend. I wonder if there is a choice, i wonder if i need to choose. Familiarity is a stranger. I dont know myself anymore. I wait for them to hold me, comfort me. But they may not come. I hope. Its nice to fall back on something/someone. Please break my fall.

She smiled. Yes she did. And i cant explain how i feel. Am more than happy! Thank you! I wonder if i want anything else. No i dont. Thank you.

My plea

Lala Lala....Blah! Everything can be so pissing off! And it can be so alluring. Blah! Useless. I am living a useless life, and maybe enjoying it. Wait, am suppose to detest my useless life. Maybe i do. Self pity can kill you. I think so much about death. I wonder when i am going to die. I think i've been prepared for death, for quite sometime now. I really wish it comes soon, else i back out, like i usually do. I wonder what'll be like. Over rated, death i mean. Why cant i just be happy? Problem with everything; coffee too cold, weather too hot, am too fat, i wish he'd change, no money, blah! I wish i could stop complaining. I wish i could just be. Just be. Still. Feel like erasing this entire post, right this minute. I wont. I am trying to get over my wishes and fancies, you see. I am trying to be what i ought to be. What i am, is just too much to take. I need to receive appreciation, it keeps me going, i need to kill myself, metaphorically ofcourse, am too much of a coward to do it otherwise. Notice how i label myself, Ha! A sense of belonging. Too many demands. Thats what i do, i demand and command, and then sit and cry, waiting for comfort. The comfort not having come, go back to my dark ugly cocoon. Brilliant, i have life all planned. Oh! Well good luck to me then!

I wonder what i did wrong. nothing. maybe. maybe i am wrong. just wrong as a person. Everytime i acknowledge myself, a rush of hate hits me, despair. Selfish rotten person. She saved me, her hand on my head, the cold, cold knife staring at me from underneath the blanket. Oh maybe that was suppose to be my end. Why did i back out? Cowardice? Could be. Vices seem to be innate in me. The cold knife promising relief, freedom, her warm hand providing it. No, this isnt a case of lesbians. Its infact a case of unconditional love, realised only when hatred is mocking me. I wish i had ended it then. Lured by the warm hands, seeking the promise of their comfort always. Death. My freedom. Maybe it isnt too late. Cold knife waiting. Call out to the warm touch. Empty.