Step away, bitch.

Do you know what it feels like? To be stepped on, by each and every person in the world? Everyone just treats you like dung on the sidewalk. Hey, maybe you are the sidewalk. Who knows?
You help them cross the road of life and get to the safe side. You help them avoid the accidents which they would repent throughout their lives if it weren't for you. You show them the safe and secure path, helping them avoid the numerous hindrances destiny has laid out for them. You keep their family's hope of seeing their loved ones alive, each and every day. You keep them alive. And how do they repay you? They forget you the moment they're done with you and your help. They don't even know, hell, they don't even care if you cared for them. People are selfish. They use you, and throw you. Maybe they'll use you once again before throwing you,abandoning you, unaware of what you've done for them. They'll never look back at you. They never do. Don't judge me, man.

But being a footpath is not easy.

Credits: Nat.
(for implanting the idea in my head at the time when I was heedless to important things).

The Compelling Economy.

I have to take a big decision within the next 3 days. Whether I want to go abroad for further studies or not. My strongest inclination was always towards medical. Wanted to become a doctor. I got fed up a month before the CET and I screwed it up. Lost all my interest. I didn't feel I messed it up even after giving the exam. Thought I would get a hard 165, at least. So I didn't apply anywhere for those Commerce and Arts courses like BMS, BMM and all that other jazz. All was well till my CET results were declared. With a 118/200, I saw my inclination towards the field of Medical falling like how those monsters fall in that bottomless pit of Tartarus after being pulverized in Greek mythology. I was devastated. And out of nowhere, I wanted to get into Xavier's for BMS. It was a long shot, but I thought I had it. My entrance test was awesome too. That was my only back-up. I hadn't applied anywhere else, because I didn't want anywhere else. I didn't crack it. All the ICSE bastards got in. Rarely anyone from HSC under the General category. My hopes were shattered. I had nothing to do. I have nothing to do. Waiting for my re-evaluated marksheet to make a splendid appearance, banking on it to throw me a delightful surprise in the midst of all the disappointment and despair, I saw only one option remaining. Going abroad. Just doing my MBBS there, getting a bitch-has-done-his-medical-abroad-hence-I-want-him-in-my-hospital hashtag, and settling forever, with a sorted life. I even have my parents supporting me on this idea. It has its price, of course. My parents aren't Tony Stark. So we're planning to settle on this education loan which I'll be expected to pay off once I start earning. It'll be somewhere around ten million. A crore, per ce. I really don't mind paying the loan off. I'd love to have my doctorate. Question is,

Will I be good enough to pay it off?

Human Emotions and Reciprocation, among other crap.

I suck at human emotions. I really do. If you want to share your life chronicles with someone and want appropriate reciprocation, and if I'm the only person remaining on this planet, then you should probably talk to a tree or something.
^See what I did there? That's exactly what I'm talking about. Human emotions are not easy. Especially reciprocating appropriately when someone is sharing their worldly issues with you. Cookies or Bournville works best for me. But when it comes to offering verbal comfort, I suck.
For example, my friend came up to me a few days back and told me he broke up with his girlfriend who he'd been dating for 4 years, since he found out she'd been cheating on him for the past year. And guess what I said? But you're not guessing, are you? Nevermind. I told him to suck it up and live with it and stop whining like a 6 year-old on drugs. <---- Another senseless reference.
I found this awesome way to find out how no one listens to me. I'll tell you how. Firstly, close your eyes. But you didn't close them, did you? You're just going on reading this and smiling like a dick. Exactly. This is how. No one ever listens to me. I should go have Bournville and head to college. I'm late. But I'm not in any college. Shmow!
Bye.

Christmas in June.

It's Christmas. The blissful breeze, wafting through the atmosphere, making my stomach go all funny. All kinds of sumptuous delicacies around, with people raving over how good their day has been. It's evening time. Gentlemen suited up, with their gorgeous looking partners with them. Age groups varying. The event is about to begin, with the atmosphere so convivial.
And there she is, beautiful as ever, with the elegant black dress and high heels. The glimmering lip-gloss, making my mind go all fuzzy. She can't stop smiling. She looks stunning. As the music begins, the melodies waddling through the dance hall, making each and every being smile, I take her hand. She lets her body loose. She has done this before, even though she doesn't know how to. And we begin, just like how we had promised each other 10 months back, unless we were dating anyone else. We jive swiftly, as the crowd makes way for us. Each couple in the dance hall, joining us, as time passes by. Everyone silently dancing across the hall, not taking their eyes off their partner, for this is the happiest memory everyone will hold. So will I. Time flies past, and we continue despite being tired, for this might not be next year. We relish each moment, till the lights go out. 'Dirty Little Secret' is making it's way through and getting louder by the moment. I open my eyes.

Stupid fucking dreams.

P.S. Don't think so much. I don't like her. Cunts.

Smells like Sobriety.

I felt damn gay in the head yesterday(Not homosexual, just damn emo. Just saying), so I switched on my laptop and visited Facebook. Some dick had posted a link to 'Smells Like Teen Spirit'. I don't know why. Maybe he thought I was hibernating for the past 50 years. I wasn't. But I clicked on it anyway. And there it was, the super-fucking-legendary song penned down by the legend Kurt Cobain himself. I listened to it. I was re-infatuated. I fucking loved it. No one was at home. I played it on my woofer system, and I went crazy. With all the adrenaline coursing through my insides now, I was all over the place yelling my balls off and head-banging. I head-banged to it like 10 times in a row. Sorry, 15. Maybe 20. I lost count. My head started hurting, but I went on till it went numb. And then I just fell down, semi-conscious on my bed. 10 minutes later, I got up and I started head-banging again, to those fucking senseless yet legendary lyrics like,
"I found it hard, it's hard to find,
oh well, whatever, nevermind".
What the fuck is that? Yes, it's motherfucking awesome! I was lost in the not-so-melodious melody of that song. All the gayness in my head was flushed down the toilet, and that's when I saw a flying fuck outside the window which I wasn't going to give to my depressing emotions.

Go humor yourselves ----> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hTWKbfoikeg

'Smells Like Teen Spirit' is emotion sobriety.

Intoxication.

Do you ever get that feeling when you want to smoke? When you're having a hard time coping up with things in life, and all you've been doing is ignoring them, but the predicaments still make way to your conscience and start strangling you. When all you want to do is just light up that bland, toxic thing and shove it in your mouth and clear your mind, just for the moment? When your flawless choice is to choose anger over pain and misery?
So someone once told me that a cigarette is the best way to forget your sorrows and shove them down the drain for the time-being. Nicotine, they said, is that miraculous substance which shuts your doorway to the agonising thoughts you have in your mind. You feel light-headed. And the best part is when you feel the nicotine    surging through your veins, giving you that piece of comfort you deserve.
So, I took their word for it. I tried it. Smoked one, no apparent change. Smoked two, still no change. They said it was enough for the day, but I as hellbent on feeling the 'rush', so called. I kept smoking, for what seemed like an eternity. I didn't feel anything. But you know what? I kept smoking everyday. Because I wanted to stereotype the concept of that cigarette, just like anybody else. Difference was, I didn't feel anything. I don't feel anything. It doesn't give me that peace of mind. But I like smoking.

Notorious bastard, aren't I?

Destiny.

So it all comes down to this day. The day, which was destined to fuck me over. The day, when I was sure that before I could wake up to dread what lies ahead in this day, my heart would give out. My nightmares full of Chemistry mixtures and Quantum Physics formulas, and my dreams consisting of putting two and two together. I was half-hoping that before I could wake up and all hell breaks loose, I'd be sedated into the Null Void of fantasies. But the nightmare doesn't just end there now, does it?
I wake up, appearing to be the guy I am, just like any other day. I walk up to the washroom, my heart pounding against my ribs, while making it's way up my throat. My skull, being eaten away by my brains, to draw more energy to open the gates for my gushing thoughts. Each uncontrollable thought of mine, holding a specific number, waiting for me to see the number withheld by them on my computer screen, and leaving me comatosed. Each thought, like having a mind of it's own, taunting me with the score they hold. And the taunts become louder and louder, as I near 200, the highest score in my exam.
I can't take this any more. So I walk to my fridge, gulp down some cold water till my hyperventilating brains go numb, and just settle for a bar of dark chocolate. It's 10 already. I walk up to my laptop, that fragile piece of technology, which displays my future decided by some anonymous bitch. I switch it on, with my brain losing it's numbness, and hyperventilating again. Search for the site my results are being declared on, enter my hall ticket number, only to find,

I'm not getting into any college.

Souvenir.

"Happy Birthday, stupid.
I hope this year brings along with it loads of happiness, peace, blah blah blah, and ooh! Hot girls! With the exception of me, of course. *teehee* Part of me hopes that you come to Xavier's. Together we can chill and you can set me up with hot boys. And chill, mostly the second thing.*giggle* Love and and all that other jazz."
                                                                                                               
                                                                                                      - The girl with the crystal eyes.
                                                                                                                    22.05.2012

These elated, joyous words, were written by a person who I once mattered to. Who cared for me. Who sacrificed her joys to comfort me in my time of sorrow. Who put my problems before hers. Who reciprocated. Who knew exactly what to say when needed. Who knew everything about me without me having to tell her anything. Who I scarred forever. And who I am just another face in the crowd to.

And all I have is, a souvenir.

Poor bastard doesn't even know how good he had it.

Poor bastard doesn't even know how good he had it.

He had the perfect life, and he threw it away. He had this perfect friend for 11 years. Fucked around with his girlfriend, fought with him, threw it away. He had his best friend, the person he values the most(the girl with the crystal eyes). Fucked around with her, threw it away. He loved his parents. Grew this new attitude towards them, threw it away. He had the perfect life. He had everything.
Everything, but one. A girlfriend. A soul mate. A person who understands him, has intimate moments with him, and pulls him back from this endless void of loneliness and self-pity. He took off, in search of her. Outgrew everyone around him with his flawless ego. And in search of her, he lost himself. He changed. He changed so much, there was no turning back. Fought with everything moving around him, assuming the involuntary sacrifice would pay off. Assuming he'd get what he truly wanted in the end. But he didn't.
He still wanders the streets. Hangs out with the same friends he thought he once outgrew, thinking he'd find better ones, for what it's worth. He didn't realise he couldn't. His days are the same they were before these predicaments. Only now, he isn't as happy.
He still wanders. His brain, crumbling away with an endless number of thoughts. His insides, eating him away without realising they can't put him out of his misery. He still breathes, with every breath bringing along a new wave of regret and remorse. Every bit of him wanting to crumble away to lifeless dust. But he doesn't give into it, for he knows, that the one is still out there.

Poor bastard doesn't even know how good he had it..

The birth of a ray which makes the light a little brighter than what it already is.

So it was this day when this brilliant guy was born. His ideas, his thoughts, and his opinions, all so enlightening, but all with this slight, needed, tinge of immaturity.
We all threw him this surprise(assuming he didn't see it coming), right towards the end of his birthday. We ate, we danced, and we enjoyed our asses off. Just the usual thing you'd expect at any cliched celebration. But it all mattered. It felt good to see someone so happy, with his girlfriend right beside him, his parents so proud and remontant over giving birth to a guy so perfect in most aspects, and him having all the people he loved and valued right with him.
Only if there was something which could capture the moment and enclose it forever, especially that smile, showing utter satisfaction at its maximum. It was probably the best birthday one could ever have.
So happy birthday to that one pathetic ass sonofabitch, who I can share any thought with and talk to about any damn thing in the world, without expecting any appropriate reciprocation, simply because I'll never feel the need to.

Happy Birthday Ferns.

                                                                                                       -Anonymous Outlet.

The girl with the crystal eyes.

It's all crap, actually, the girl with the crystal eyes. It's just my insides being gay since hormones are coursing through them. So let's just agree that the girl with the crystal eyes is the girl with the crystal eyes and continue this...
You're probably thinking why I'm being emo today. Well, maybe you're not. But to make things quick, I am. I'm being quite emo today.
I just had this fight with my best friend. She was like my bestest friend. And me? I was just a dick. I was so hellbent on making things right, that the other things fell apart.
She had this...this exhilarating smile, which if you were the cause of, you'd feel that the motive of your existence is fulfilled. And even if you weren't, it'd make you feel like everything in the world is perfect for those few moments. It's addictive. It's more addictive than downing 50 tequila shots, because you'll pass out within 15 anyway, but you'll just be lost in that smile forever, and there's no coming back.
Her facial features, so meticulously grafted, were the second best thing in the world (Hey, hey, you, I'm still a guy. I like Fifa better). And hugging her was like free-falling into this bottomless pit with her right beside you, forever...
And what did I do? Got drunk, and fucked everything up. She probably hates me now, more than anyone or anything in the world. And I wouldn't be surprised, I'm quite a fucked up guy.
I've apologised, but to no avail. I wish I could just sleep endlessly, because staying awake is not easy, especially with your brain processing a 100 thoughts at one moment, out of which 99 are related to the girl. The thought of never being the cause of that smile ever again kills me on the inside, but maybe I just have to suck it up and live with it.
There's a fine line between her being your bestfriend, and girlfriend. You're probably thinking I like her. Probably thinking she's the love of my life. But the appalling part is, she isn't. There aren't words to describe what we had between us(it kills me to use the past tense here), and if there are, I don't know any. But I can tell you one thing, it's at some place very special between friendship and a relationship.

I wish to God she saw this, I do. But let's be realistic and not kid ourselves here, such miracles don't happen.
So maybe I'll just sit back, wait for her reply, while this post of mine will age by the day and disappear someday, without her ever coming across it...

The beginning of an era for my inglorious existence.

I'm a blogger now. I should feel good. I should feel great. But, I don't.
I heard blogging was a good way to express yourself, so, here I am.
People change. People changed. I changed. That's why I'm here. And the best part? I'm not even sure if the person I'm doing it for will ever see this. But it's good to puke it out.
You're probably thinking another emo bastard has made his way through to this exhilarating site you own, you live. Maybe you're wrong. Maybe you're not. I don't know.
So maybe you should just suck it up and deal with it.