Of Shrinking Aims And Violets

Have never been a big fan of stretch targets. Hate the concept. As if the actual target (if you have one that is) isnt hard enough already , matters must be made more complicated by setting goal thats even further away! Well thats not me.


Had decided from pretty early on, not to want too much from life. And so far this policy had worked pretty well. Dont expect too much. Dont actually get too much. But thats alright. Its all good.

Figured the same should work for college. Set very very achievable goal And I might even "get" more than I asked for. I did actually. In more ways than one.


And of violets.
Am not soul-of-party. Am not star material(which is okay, really) But have never exactly been the wallflower either. Too much attention is unnerving. But none at all(!!!) is even more so.
I dont exist. Never did.

Stayed up all night and all we talked about was her and him. And how it won't work . And how she misses him. And how nice it is to be held. Just held.

No moping I'd thought. No using guy as crutch because i know it wont work. But oh must it always work? What's so wrong if it doesnt?

Clouds appear free of care
And carefree drift away.
But the carefree mind is not to be found
To find it, first stop looking around.

Wang An Shih

pujo asche. yay! will mope no more.

the worst bit about this wallowing-in-self-pity-my-cup-runneth-over thing? am not fun anymore. i used to be fun before (err i dunno...i think i was. was i?) used to be capable of conversation/shared laughter/giggly-schoolgirl-bonding . i wasnt whiny before. i wasnt someone you'd roll your eyes at and say "god! snap out of it already!" and thats another thing. everyone's too kind to say so. why? what the fuck do they think i'll do?

count my blessings, i will . there is a lot to be thankful for. like the fact that the waistline has gone back to the 8th std waistline. its actually two sizes smaller!! yippeee!!!

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Third Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Very Low
Level 2 (Lustful)	Low
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	Very High
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	High
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Very High
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Very Low
Level 7 (Violent)	High
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	High
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Low

Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test

I know, theoretically speaking that is,...that this is not going to last. I won't feel like this forever. After this many 'low's there will be a 'high'. or so says the Law of Averages. Something's gotta give. This too shall pass.
There are ten million other similar sayings which tell me, that this situation is not permanent. All of today will not matter tomorrow. I know this all.

and yet, I don't believe it.

will get out of this phase in a while.
but not now.
will wallow a little longer.

JIGSAW

When you're slowly going to pieces,
Everything else
Will fall into place.

Will horde, till its mine.
I wont tell you.
And you won't know.

That joke?
I'll share.
The book,
Yes, that too.

But not this
Not ever.
My grief
Is mine alone.

technophobia , it seems, will not take me far. sigh!
i much prefer the simpler times.


why why why why why why? why me?

valium.lots of valium is what i need. not to kill myself, but just enough for a long dreamless sleep. so that i can wake up, a year later and find that life is 'live-able' again.

Or a remote control, so that i can press the fast forward button through this phase and stop at a nicer point of time.

Or some aspirin that will make this damn headache go away.

Or some device which will turn me into someone else. I dont want to be me anymore. I want to be those superachieving kinds who've always gotten what they wanted...or at least what other people wanted.

Just not me. Not now. Not today. Not ever

You Fit Into Me, by Margaret Atwood


You fit into me
like a hook into an eye
A fish hook
An open eye

and another!

A Word Is Dead


A word is dead
When it is said,
Some say.
I say it just
Begins to live
That day.

Emily Dickinson

I'm Nobody! Who Are You


I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us--don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know.

How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!

Emily Dickinson.


love her so.

i have S.A.D. why must it rain so?

You Are Storm

Exotic and powerful, Storm descended from a line of African priestesses. Emotions can effect your powers, but you are generally serene. Powers: controlling weather, creating winds that lift you into flight, generating lightning

Which of the X-Men Are You?

Its like that strange aftertaste in your mouth, that stays after you've had something sweet. Too sweet. The kind that stays and stays and stays and no amount of saliva swallowed can make it go away. it should warn you off all sweet things...but nah. The tooth never learns.

oh....... you poor baby you.
i'm so sorry i forgot. its been two days since your first birthday and i forgot. am a horrible horrible person.

belated happy birthday!

every new person i meet reminds me of someone ihave met before...i must have become really old.