Tell Me... (Painting Mumbai Red with Innocent Blood)

Silence gives way to the violent storm,
A premonition that its going to be worse than before,
Crimson stains the walls and the floor,
As people run for cover when the bombs begin to explode.

Tell me did you hear when I yelled?
Did you care when I bled?
Did you hear me pray to the same God?

Hatred fills the empty spaces
When we see them lying broken on the ground
With every bullet we drill the final nail
Into the coffin of love and peace, the things that started it all.

Tell me, did you see who I loved?
Did you love like I did?
Did you hear me cry for help?

Tell me did you care when you shot?
Did you have a purpose?
Or was it all for nothing?

You talk about peace and you talk about wrong
But all the while you hold that gun
You shoot the innocent
Pretending you're better than us.

Why?

You Don't Know Me... You Don't Even Care...

The lyrics to the song 'Boston' by Augustana send me on a nostalgic journey to the words of a poem I once wrote... it echoes the same desperate loneliness I felt, sending me along paths I fear to tread on...

I don't like being alone... and that I am very much what I despise being... lonely... its a realization that has been long coming. I wish I was different that things were; not what they are... but they are...

The realization that even though I've been here for two years now I don't have a single friend is slightly depressing... when I mean real friend, I mean the kind who tells you everything, relies on you and you can do the same with them... People who want to hang out with you, who try to make an effort to... recently my roommate's friend made me realize that I wasn't interesting enough, but I beg to differ... So what if I'm not good looking and am fat? I can hold my own. I can converse, argue, debate, rebut and I can rip you apart with my words. So what if I'm an introvert? Get to know me and you'll know how passionate I am about certain issues?

Is the world really as shallow as to deem only thin, good-looking people worth getting to know? If not, then why is it that the only criteria that makes a person "interesting"?

Am I too intense? Is it my intensity that scares people away... makes people quake in their boots and give up before trying? I don't know... My introversion and fear of judgment hold me back... not letting me express who I truly am and who I can be...

I need this to change.

Slipping through my fingers...

The past week has been a blur of colors and sounds. I have a vague recollection of 'the passing's and 'going on's of the days that have passed. I vague, fleeting memory of people. I move. I move soundlessly and unseen through the daily silhouettes of time as it passes me by. My hand writing thoughts, memories, things I thought I had forgotten. Wounds uncovered, reopening. My blood spills onto my hands. My pain feeling as though it is another's. Like looking down on myself from above, I try to help. My hands ghosting through my being. Its like she's broken... But there's nothing there to fix.

There's Nothing.

My actions float on the whisps of time. Wavering and wandering they fade away.

I listen to the tune of an old forgotten song and tears well up in eyes. I refuse to cry as a mother talks about her daughter... she talks about the past and their plans... and I wonder if any of my plans will ever reach fulfillment. Will I get to finally meet my Liam? ever? He's been such a wonderful friend. Will I ever get to see the world?

People tell me to accept God. I don't deny him. I just don't know. I can't follow a religion... correction... I won't follow a religion.

I love myself. my life. my family & friends. I have a billion things on my list of things that make me happy.

Void...

Emptiness....

It feels like nothing. It feels like... nothing. I want to replace it with something... anything. I feel like I can't breathe because of it. Its suffocating me in its nothingness and I can't seem to do anything about it. I don't know what I'm doing but I need to so something before I'm in over my head. I dug my nails into my arm today. It helped. I felt something lift that invisible weight that seems to be crushing down on my chest. But I don't see myself going down that road. I don't want to. It is self-destructive. What if eventually my nails aren't enough? Self-mutilation is extreme, even for me.

But I can't live like this. I can't live with a great big hole inside of me. I can't live with such emptiness. With this invisible gas that is choking my lungs, making it hard to breathe, to see, to feel,... to be.

My head is spinning. I can't catch myself. I feel like I've been on a carousel at warp speed for the last 20 years of my life. Everything is a blur. I didn't make a difference. I didn't matter. I don't matter.

Who are we? WHAT are we? Figments of someone's overactive imagination, a story about unnamed characters and unforeseeable plots. A story with grammatical and punctuational errors. An error. A half bent staple pin and crumpled papers. A rainbow with no color and gruesome fairy tales. Who are we? and what are we doing here?

Is not knowing emptiness? or are voids just stories that haven't been written yet.

I'm empty. I'm broken and I don't know what to do about it.

I can't breathe and when I try I choke and die a million deaths...

Why is it?

hollow silence.

College and such...

The last few days of college life have been crazy. Classes have been hectic, though rather boring and monotonous. I slept through part of one of my classes today, the reason I know this is because I had "Queen Elizabeth" written in my notes, I was in the fucking front row of class!! I think I have a CEE 360 homework partner, I've written to him on Facebook for the last two years and I officially met him a couple of months ago and actually spoke to him for real, and he seems like a really nice guy. Although, I think he might be a straight A student and realize what a dumbass I am... One of my really good friends is going out with this really nice guy, and they make the sweetest couple ever! I totally adore them... YAY for friends first, beau's second!! They are definitely on my list of things that make me happy. My roommate is pretty awesome! I definitely adore her. I think we compliment each other really well. But I sort of feel left out now, because all my friends now call her, and never call me, which is fine, but I like getting calls once in a while... But we have the coolest room ever! I totally dig our room! Our refridgerator broke, but we might be able to borrow our friend's fridge because he has an extra one.


I don't know what I'm going to do this weekend. Its the long weekend and most of my friends have gone home. But I know I will figure something out.

Rejected...

Haha... So I auditioned for a mediocre Acapella group yesterday... I sucked ass... So I got rejected...

I don't know how I feel about it. Relieved? Upset? I feel far too many contradictory emotions all at once. I wasn't really sure I wanted to audition anyways. But just the fact that I got rejected sort of messed me up. I think it was the scales and repeating whatever she played that threw me off my game. I sort of knew I'd be rejected. I knew it from their faces after I'd finished singing... maybe I sung songs that were too sappy or opera-y... I don't know. But I'm kind of glad I didn't get it. They said I was pitchy. Oh well. Whatever! Back to skypecasts for me... people actually ask me to marry them there.... :-P But then again that could be because some of the other people there are so terrible you need to mute your speakers for a while.

Anyways, such is life, rejection is just another 1000 rungs on the ladder of success, and I've been rejected 500+ times anyways, so I'm that much closer to success!! :D so Cheers to all the troopers who stick it out and face the day with renewed vigor and Cheers to all of those troopers who are amushed and stamped on and still find the will to stand up.

Edit: September 10th, 2008: So... According to the girl who auditioned after me, to whom I thought I'd lost the audition, they weren't really looking for new recruits... and it was just the formality of having to go through the whole audition process at the beginning of the year... Gosh, they could have just said, I wouldn't have wasted my precious time!! Losers!

Loneliness Knows Me By Name...

I think it scares me sometimes- being alone. I've never been in a relationship and it scares me that maybe I'll never find a 'special someone.' I see people around. Young people, in love, in like, in what-ever-they-want-to-call-it, and I feel happiness in their happiness, but there are times when I sigh with envy, even though I'm elated in all honesty. But then I see relationships end- lovers estranged, friendships bereft. I see the drama they go through. Scratch that. The MELODRAMA they go through and scream "Hallelujah! THANK GOD I don't have to deal with this!" But then there are times when its endearing, when you kind of crave the intimacy that causes those frayed nerves and overzealous emotions.

I think what scares me the most are my imperfections. My scars. My battle wounds. My insecurities. Some people tell me they look up to me- that they are amazed by the strength I exude, the courage and the no-bullshit attitude. But then there are those who only see a shell of a person- an uptight, fat, ugly girl trying to hold her life together as its falling apart at the seams. They see a girl who is unsure of herself and where she is going. They see the uncertainty in her eyes and prey upon it. Harvest it. They see a girl who is now a mere illusion of the person she once was, a child that was once all confident strides and friendly smiles now stumbling at every push and pull of a winding road. A child whose heart knew no bound; who loved unconditionally and let other love her the same. Not now. Not anymore. She grew up somewhere along daggers and bullets in her back. Just like everyone else. I'm not a good person. I can be spiteful and hurtful. Blunt; painfully so. I don't let anyone get in. Not really. So I'm scared. I'm scared I'll be alone. Because not only am I fat and ugly (and young men don't want that. They all want sexy women who look good on their arm) but I am also no longer of substance. I am socially awkward and introverted. I'll try and be friendly but I am often annoyed by these "friends" after a few months of association.

Maybe I'm not even looking for a partnership, relationship or friendship. But sometimes when the clouds are gloomier and the storms are thicker and the rain is falling just that little bit harder. I wonder at the thought of a companion. A companion who could hold me and tell me that its alright because they are right there with me. And I don't know what its like to be held on cold, windy days. But I'm hoping that maybe some day I will.

In the Process...

Pain and destruction lie in the wake of my arrival. I can't seem to do or say anything right. I bring pain to people I care about- my family and my friends. I can't be there for anyone even though I want to be. I try to do right but I end up doing wrong.

Maybe my self-destruction is inevitable... but they should know me better... I love them far too much to see them suffer and so I continue to punish myself... the self-prosecution of a friendless, loveless existence so that I won't hurt anyone else in the process...

Summer...

Summer whispered, its soft seductive words taking me over in waves of joyful pleasure; its gentle hand held out for me to take, inviting and tempting. But now that I am here, I am desolate. I feel none of the pleasure that it had once promised- I feel nothing but emptiness. The words that had been whispered have long since evaporated in the sweltering heat leaving not even a trace of evidence that they had once existed. Partially sublimated happiness fills me as I sit stoical in an air conditioned room or car. One to the other is how my days pass. Going to places I have been before, doing things I've done countless times, my days and weeks are filled with monotony.

Monday- Sit at home and do nothing.
Tuesday- Sit at home and do nothing.
Wednesday- Sit at home and do nothing and then go for a business presentation in the evening.
Thursday- Sit at home and do nothing.
Friday- Training from afternoon to evening.
Saturday- Training till noon and then sit at home and do nothing.
Sunday- Sit at home do nothing.

Week after endless week goes this routine that dictates the pattern of the summer that I anxiously anticipated on those tiresome days at University when I craved for the gentle caress of my mothers hand on my brow when I felt ill, or the rabid incessant fighting sibling often participate in for no apparent reason.

I have met many a people who inspire nothing in me. Who don't necessarily treat me as a child, since experience has nothing to do with age; but treat me like a dog that is need of a thorough training. They pat my head and tell me what a wonderful daughter I am to my mother and proceed to share with me what they think my life should be like. I admit, I enjoy my business venture, the training sessions and the training itself. I went for a conference/training module for this to Malaysia and while there were countless sleepless nights, I enjoyed every moment of it. I learned and felt strongly. I wish to continue what I learn when I go back to university and try to broaden my social network.

After the conference we decided to tour Penang, Kuala Lumpur, Langkawi and visit Genting Highlands for 2 hours. I would have enjoyed the place if I had been alone, but being with my parents dampened my experience as I then had to experience it my fathers way, a.k.a. through the window of a taxi cab. I got to drink the sweetest coconut water and eat the best egg-indian-bread ever though, and for that I am forever grateful.

But ever since our return to my parents home, I have been pushed into this teeth-grinding routine that is slowly, but surely driving me insane. I often find myself staring into outer-space or laughing like a mad man without reason. I spend my days defending the legality and ethics of my company and trying to help people with their 'clarifications'. But don't get me wrong. I adore my company and business. I love it endlessly.

Oh and lest we forget, the wonderful world of Skypecasts, where I belt my heart out with emotional songs and no music while listening to tune-deaf people receive praise for their appalling singing. I've done it too and I've also received praise. But oh well, right? At least its something to do. Better than the awful void of nothingness that presides over my life. But god-damn it. Livejournal got blocked in the country I live in and as a result I can't go back to reading slash fanfiction that filled my days with endless wonder. Don't get me wrong... I love my life.

Its just the summer that I hate.

TIME...

Where is the time?

I often ask myself this as I continue my monotony of a life that is university. I have no friends who invite me to their parties, and the ones who do, don't want to go party. I wonder if I have friends at all. Well, friends who want to hang out with me that is. And I don't mean dinner at a restaurant I hate or sitting in the room and discussing which boy in which class is cute (uggh!). I want to party and dance! But my 'friends' who do that, never invite me. All I do is go to class and do homework. That is all my life is about.

All I have is work and no time and no space... so what?