Meray sath raho gi?

side-effect

i am a woman, and as far as i am remotely aware of the fact, i certainly appear so.
and yes because of the slight difference in gender u may have casually overlooked, i do have to buy things that cater to women.
its nothing out of the ordinay. ur mum uses it too. ur friggin sister too u creep.
so when u stand in line u stupid middle aged desi man, do NOT turn around and peer thru my stuff like im at customs at Heathrow. do not flinch away.do not give me ur silly little snicker. do not check me out from top to toe like im some half-dressed creature from Maxim.
SERIOUSLI.
friggin getting groceries and stuff is liek a pain in the butt. it wudnt be as bad if id been a man and been seen buying like a bra or something.jeez i AM a girl i buy girl stuff but evryone from the friggin brown cashiers to the brown people in line make it sucha huge oh mah gawd.
and its ALWAYS only the brown people.
and oh yeh im brown too, yes thank u for noticing. and yes thank u for also noticing that im independant enough to be going grocery shopping on my own not dying of mortification either.

-end rant-

yesterday was..odd...i couldn't for the life of me sleep till 4 am. think im too used to listening to drug's b.s elapsing into a calm silence before i myself can fall asleep..
restlessness does have its virtues tho, of sorts. i finally talked to Nad, who i havent spoken to in ages, which roughly amounts to two weeks. this is a big deal considering we used to talk at the very least 3 times every day and way into the night,. but i think he respected the fact that i didnt pounce on him for evading me like everyone else has been doing. he explained why he's been out, gave his little justifications...the implicit apology...i don't mind to be honest, u do whut u gotta do.

but its always the silent bystander that people eventually turn back to, because that is the one person who u know will always be there without complaint.

and i talked to my stalker again..interestingly emo chap. u know who u are.

and talked to armie. i was mad worried about her ever since i read her blog, but yeh, she ranted and i ranted and like always, it was all good again.shes one of those people that acts like a tough nut but is all marshmallow inside. i love marshmallows, if theyre not too sticky.
complicated metaphor intended.

i have a massive headache. its sleep+eyesight being messed up. if it's not the back it's something else.
and i have an anatomy exam tomorow.
let me rephrase that for sake of avoiding innuendos,
i have a strictly academic., written anatomy exam that ill do being fully clothed at all times.

She walks in beauty, like the night.
-Lord Byron.

random quote.
sabs is here, ima go study.
xo
-eeda.

.

i seek profundity.
hidden behind fullstops.
in clouds like popcorn across parking lots.
in the words of the great, and the dead and gone.
in the mindless utterances across a million blogs. in the
little rhymes i find scribbled in old notebooks, myself undone. in
your eyes, when you say
you'll stay.



that came out of nowhere. on the spot rant.
This road does have a dead-end.

And in short, I was Afraid.

Taken shamelessly from Elliot's Prufrock. Again.

I will wait and watch and see
your words slip through my fingers.

-eeda.
Be. Live. Believe.

Gold.

few things are Golden.

dad dancing by the sea at midnight.surprise 16th birthdays. fine sand on a beach.old married couples holding hands.tinkling laughter.glowing tans.ancient bells in old forgotten churches.wedding bands.
and long back massages.

to you, you know who you are.
Thank you SO much.


i hit heaven.
no seriousli. i can actualli breatheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee again. im moving and nothing hurts! and it feels SO mad precious. SO liberating. i don't want to move at all or else i feel like ill jinx it.

There was preserved
in her
The fresh miracle
of surprise.
-Jim Morrison.

this one's for u.
'cuz i dont forget things in a hurry.
and it was very very veeeeryy appreciated.

xoxoxo
-eeda.

Speechless.

no words.
MUST watch.

summer

i float along the smell of overcooked barbecues and burnt grass.





blur it till it don't make sense.

argh.

'marry her?
she's hot, but not hot enough.'

fuckin c!



edit...

make up ur friggin mind.

The root

of our problem.

Mental illness
Menstrual cramps
Mental breakdown
Menopause.
Guynecologist


When we have real trouble, it's a Histerectomy.

talk about glaring-in-ur-face evidence.men men men menminamenmin

this is one of my famous no-coherence posts.

while looking at human body charts revising for anatomy exam,
(p.s if thats not sexually suggestive enuf)
h-aawwh u can see the guy's peepee
sabs-so i was saying, wheres the pul....
h-oh its RIGHT where its always been for these many many many years..

bimbo-ness.
bahah..i love em two.

last post ws tooooooooooooooooooooo ehmo. i abologize.
hm....

There will be time, there will be time.
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet.
-Prufrock, by T.S Elliot

Most people love you for who you pretend to be- Jim Morisson.


great minds.

btw. this is my scary mask. Boo.
oh oh oh...secret.




pst. i had to choose a nicer mask so id hav the guts to put it on mi blog. lame.

'mental dissections of meaningless triviality.'
Gunther, ur Amazing. aaaah...loved it.

hmm...drug's cat, Nala is realli realli sick. he's devastated. i havent seen Nali is soooo long.
it'll be absolutely inhumane if she gets taken away from him.

I can feel the angel, locked in this prison of my skin and bone, my body a shell for this heavenly being. My life is a mistake.
I should be flying with wings throughout the universe.
taken from lil secrets.

okay..enuf of random quotes from random peoples blogs.
2 am ..why the frick cant i sleep?

to my mind.
please.
shut the hell off.


kher...hum chalay dushman jalay..kal milen gay......break ke baad :P
-eeda

Conflicted.

Ankhon mein silay huay ho.
Udhero na
-Arooj

kinda reminds me of a poem i wrote once. its called Of us.

today was.....eventful..
my sanity lied in the fact that i blindly believed everything u said to justify everything u did. but now im gettin proof that u were wrong. holy proof. i cannot deny it. i cannot find a loophole.
kaise kaise yeh kaya palat jati hai.
i do not want to hate you. i do not want to see you as the kind of the person i most despised. i want to respect you and cherish you still, because you have done so much for me.
i feel the safety slipping away. i feel the paranoia rising up my throat like bile.

but i know i'll always love u regardless .u have fought too many battles to get me where i am. today..ur my own blood after all.

the centers of tornadoes are always very
still.

you know what was different about golf as opposed to any other person? he wanted to know.like he'd sit and ask me for 3 hours if he had to. obviously there came a point when he got to know more than he could handle.
and thennnnnn he fled.
more like, emo churail. bachaaaaaooooo.

hahaha

okay scratch most of what i jus said..ws jus talkin to sumone and got everything out which trust me i dont do with people often but i'm feelin gooooooooooddddd......sumtimes people can surprise u.....bt yeh..eventful day certainly.

hmm....i was on the bus this morning. this man was about to get off, so he kisses his 6 year oldish son goodbye who was still on the bus with his grandparents. the man gets off, and waits still, and the son spins round in his seat, and they both wave at each other until they went out of each other's sight.
it touched me.
yes. enuf to be on my blog. im EMO like that.

emo enuf to want to go and watch an emo movie right now.
now where did i put my razor?
-eeda.

Moondance.

just cuz.

[20/07/2008 10:37:25 PM] eeda says: the song?
[20/07/2008 10:38:43 PM] drug* says: for youuuuu
[20/07/2008 10:38:52 PM] eeda says: aaaaaaaaaaaahahaha..
[20/07/2008 10:38:56 PM] eeda says: cupcakeness.

*name changed. no just kidding, his name's cocaine.
LAMEness.

Well, its a marvelous night for a moondance
With the stars up above in your eyes
A fantabulous night to make romance
neath the cover of October skies
-Moondance, By Michael Buble.

Yeh.good times.


i will dance through my days to ballets of pink sunrises and to ballads of clandestine sunsets.

jeez. gettin all poetsy arent we?


me- 'sometimes i feel like i don't grow older by a single year, more like 5 for every 1.'
sabs- 'slow down slow down slow down. let the rest of us catch up.'

yeah.

i don't want to come in the middle. i need just 10% of you ,she can have the rest.
bartering friendships.
tough.
u can't run away from drama can u.

i miss ignorance.

and i stare pointlessly out the train windows and the smoke rising from the factories across the river reminds me of white curly hair coming out of old men's ears.
the kind of old men whose hair looks like floating candy floss.

our relationship has ceased to exist past the are you eating well?sleeping well?
i tack on the quiet miss u's quickly before the click of the dialtone. almost like a cracked ornament. almost like im disgusted to admit the weakness.
three little words.
three little re affirmatives of something much more fierce inside.

I Missed You.

sumtimes i feel like a gushing water hose held tightly at the mouth.
eeeeeeeemmmmmmmmmmmoooooooo.

if it helps , the above was meant in a strictly platonic way to members of family.

i want to see your hands with
my fingertips.
trace out
your palms like a
fragile, torn
map.
i want to
tiptoe across your
intricate woven paths and
find an
eternal perdition
in your
fist.

don't ask me where that came from. on the spot little thumbelina inspired thing.
blah.

time to sleep.
-eeda

100th.

congratu-effin-lations to me for wasting so much time .
100 posts
100 epiphanies
100 charades
100 facades.

And one man in his time
plays many parts
-Shakespeare

in Goldie's words....it's been Kaleidoscopic bliss.
i love that phrase.
and i got Kaleidoscopic spelt right in my first try.
wooh me.

My nerves are bad to-night.Yes, Bad. Stay with me.
Speak to me.Why do you never speak? Speak.
What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?
I never know what you are thinking. Think.

- from The Wasteland by T.S Elliot

This for Gunther, next lines from a poem in memoriam of Elliot.

For years I measured out my life
with your coffeespoons.

CLASSIC .....Ahhhhhhhhh!!..ALMOST as orgasmic as olddddd indian music.
a)im crude i know
b)and into old weird things.

woo lotsa quote-isms today.

hmm....my days are filled with endless expanses

of the great big nothing.

buttttttttttt
the highlight of my day today? i finished a 12 page business research paper AND won an hour and 15 minute long intense ludo game.
Vanity,thy name is woman.
OH and had an iced cafe caramel frappe with extra whipped cream.
*indescribable bliss*

the end.
-eeda.

Dream

intimate candlelit dinner.carriage ride through Central Park at midnight.blanket.home.the person below me. Long Island properties.staying up till 4.
a dream a dream a dream split at the seam.

Let us go then, you and I,
when the evening is spread out against the sky
like a patient etherized on a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets
the muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels.
- 'The love song of J.Alfred Prufrock' by T.S Elliot.

Those lines are Masterpiece. I love Elliot. among other things.

I wrote an 11 page paper today in 7 hours with a 30 minute break, had wayyy stronger coffee than I've ever had, like a LARGE cup of espressos shots in one,ate an avocado hamburger, all at the house of my friend from Uruguay/ El Salvador/ Germany /Austria. Yes. Very normal day.

Interesting story about her parents though. Let's un-romanticize it a little cuz im too lazy to make it flowery. A Kines/Physcs prof goes to a conference, sees a Psychology major 17 years his junior, and falls blindly in love. He lives in Calgary, She lives in Toronto, they write emails and do phone calls like back in the good old days when love wasn't just dinner and a movie and good night in bed afterwards. Yeh okay emails and phones werent around 200 years ago, way to kill it Einstein, but they had letters and rather respectable inclinations bordering on the prude-ish but so the hell what? it was more,,heart-felt. more emo too.
Anyways, back to the story. Their love grew. He came over and obviously dilwale dulhaniya le gaey. (ie. i do and i do and now i declare you man and wife) Now they both live in a gorgeous house cradled in a valley in the mountains up north, with the perfect vegetable garden, house with too many windows, A-star kids and a dog.
Yeh, RIGHT out of a movie isn't it?

Oh, and the icing on the cake, the girl went to school where the Entire Movie of 'John Tucker Must Die' was shot. yeh. don't ask me how its the icing or even remotely sweet/glucose-oriented, but seriously.
oh, and she's done ballet. for the 10 past years.
poster-perfect life.

i Still think mine, with all it's flaws and drama and twisted mentalities, was slightly more interesting. Or (insert synonym for ridiculously) not-ur-average-story at any rate.
isn't everyones?
ramble.

This other time i sat next to a 70 year old german in a flight from karachi to dubai and his entire conversation, which he said while having the MOST ima-5-year-old-giddy-school-girl-with-a-bigger-barbie-than-urs attitude , can be summed in 4 words. 'i LOVE my wife.'
he got a little too enthusiastic and told me a little too much.
my virgin ears.
i haven't fully recovered yet.

Aj raat bhi, neend na aye gee.
Bolo Na.
-Arooj

she's awesome btw. i'm addicted to her songs. click here.

hm. oh. i still feel like a virgin s word armie. i don't know why.
TOO much trash in my life.

and on that happy note, we end yet another hammering tirade of rants, wasted brain cells and pointless contribution to society.
just like a used tissue with someone's name and number scrawled on it drenched in pepsi and tears and dried up regrets contributes to the greater good..
i am TOO random.

may tomorrow bring sense. and amazing pictures from deviantart.
-x's and o's.
eeda.

Home

let us remind ourselves
of easier times.
small things.

the one thing that can make me smile regardless of whut time of day or night it is. my second true love.
after English Lit.

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by.'
-John Masefield.

picture's taken from the beach my house back home faces. i used to wake up to this.5 years. Every.friggin.day.
the most amazing thing outside my window right now is the mainroad. row of houses. lampost. the rusty grey letterbox on my neighbour's wall. the brown thatched mat.
i wanna go home bad.
and that Masefield poem? learnt it grade 5 in SJC with Benjamin.
good times.

oh, and i wanna kill golf. he's online and ignoring me. again.
i.want.to.kill.him
how could u man? after Everything we said? everything. lifehouse. golfs. kids. u named them after my name. u asked if i cud have any cz of my back. u blushed. houses. families. car rides. work. walks. weak.
vulnerability
u promised. the first thing u said. this wont go to waste.
lies. lied.

'i wont waste my words on u. enough.
-eeda

Steer back.

im blah.

aayla says write about The Kinks. kinky. kinksy. kink-si.
i wonder what a kink looks like.

i met up with Ezzie..apparently the reason why he's been lost/uncommunicative/distant/idiotic is cuz he thought i ditched him for my other friends.....anddd vice versa..
u know whuts funny? my d key isnt working so i had to edit the post to put the d's.
let me repeat how the sentence before read without the d's
''apparently the reason why he's been lost is cuz he thought i itched him for my other friens.''
yes. i like itching people to death until they don't talk to me anymore.
hey you, wanna be My friend?
*itch.

oh, and eye twitch. make it freakier.

i talked to one of my blog's stalkers. it was, aside from bein' highly creepy, entertaining to know the kind of crowd i attract here. weirdos ofcourse.
hey ali, don't kill me.

i love jude law. i wanna watch Alfie.
(it's cuz i saw a poster somewhere that said 'Alife' and t reminded me.)

and i talked to doray. and tommy. and nazia. and shawz. and rima. and armie. and ezra.
not all of it went well. atleast it went.
sometimes that's all u need.

Cllllooooooo-ssssssureeeeeeee.
sure sure.

and now for the ' that's what she said' part.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

its in the way he says he loves
its never enough

Posted by Zh. at 10:07 AM

here for the author. good good stuff. again.



enuf for now.over and out.
-eeda.

Coincidence.

I was JUST thinking of golf.
guess who just came online?

ahan. yes. very weird.
*smacks head.

I wanna think that you were just

a fragment

of my imagination.

stomach hurts. i just tried one of uncle's experiments at making Qorma.
tasted AWESOME. .mirchi like Red Savina Habaneros ground togther.
that, btw, is the world's hottest spice
OFCOURSE i'm exaggerating. haven't u figured that much out already? see 'Hyperbole' for further details.
and oh, Qorma with a capital Q. that, in my books, is THE shit.
ahan

and now, back to the world.

eeda says:
hi hi hi
TW: Runaway! says:
oh my goodness
TW: Runaway! says:
you exist!
eeda says:
HAhahahahaaa
eeda says:
yes i tend to do that from time to time.

and now.and today. we heal.

and that was just one of them all.

let me go make amends with the world.
'cuz that again, is how we roll.Dawg-ter.

(did son before. can't do it again. keep the equality obv.)

kuch na kaho. for drug. and for silence that speaks the unspeakable. a thousand words unspoken..and what u don't know, are the things i leave unsaid.

to which doray replies.
Disconnection is not my fault says:
people who don't understand your silence don't deserve your words

as much as that girl annoys the shiat out of me, i hav to admit she IS smart.

and oh, i found this statement rung a few true bells with me.

''Ten days on, and I still check feedjit for who dropped by to read my masterpiece rants.
Self love indeed is a lifetime romance''
check here for the author.
good stuff good stuff.

and oh, since we're doin other's words..another quote by my 20 yr old highschool drop out frnd..he stuns me with his words sumtimes.

jetblackE36 (3:46:52 AM): did i ever tell you

jetblack E36 (3:47:13 AM): that i believe the way you feel about others, should be irrelevant to how they feel about you?

anyways, enuf for now.

-laterrrr!
eeda

Lesson learnt.

He was my North, my South, my East, my West.
My working week and my Sunday rest.
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song.
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

- W.H Auden.

This That and Timbuktoo.

you know what i CAN'T stand?
guys who spit. every.friggin.where. i mean seriously i understand your species is more prone to be im-disgusted-with-everything-Pith-the-hell-thooeee but do u HAVE to spit to vent it? like dude carry a spit bag or something 'cuz if i was that interested in random spit samples for, i dunno, finding a natural cure for newt burns, i'd ASK you for them.
JEEZ.
i saw atleast 4 of these..imbecilesss today.
DOUBLE jeez.

on the lighter side, quote from drug.
No, that's my pankha fan.
ahhhaahah..good times.

ao bhag chalein paro.
yaheen jahan koi ata jata nahee.
Timbuktoo.

i jus had a monologue with myself.
devdas mode.
aaaaaaaah.....lost it. well, to be fair u cant lose whut u didnt have.

to be honest, i want to go somewhere noone knows me and just start everything from scratch.
live it in my own terms.

oh, i love song-isms.
and poem-isms.
and isms shisms. prisms. light.
which reminds me,

heard melodies are sweet.
those unheard are sweeter still.

hmmm....
At shazia auntis today, i was getting into my golden shoes as i was leaving, and shazia aunti's like 'those look comfortable'
me-howd u figure?
her-they're getting worn. its the worn shoes that are most comfortable.

a) i love Shazia aunty's bluntness.
b) it's the tough ones that have seen the most shit and are all the more better for it.

i find the weirdest meanings in the smallest things.

and for heaven's sake eeda get ur act together. what's going WRONG with you? u can't come this far to let go now.

emuhness.
peddle on and on and on and on..let's cross this river of Jordan, this Nile, this Amazon.

there's somethine SERIOUSLI bugging me right now, and what's worse is that i dont know what the hell it is.
aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh gonna be one of those restless nights.

the eternal question, what now?

oh, the daily secret. my newest fad yeah. lameness.



seriously. everytime one whizzes past it's almost like ur walkin out again.
it doesn cease to astound me how many of these vancouver has. or how they magically appear to all congregate where i happen to be. it's almost evil.
it's this car that started it. and this car that ended it.
almost like punctuation marks.

god this is so.typically.female.and i hateeeeeeed that
my poor broken heart. boo-effin-hoo. lame lame lame.
get over it.

Life is so short.Forgetting is so long.
-Pablo Neruda.

Ran-dumbness.

my posts are gettin longer and longer and less and less coherent. so shoot me.
i abologise.

-all for now,
eeda

p.s to deeju beeju my jaan.
i am not alone
but not with you.

(aloneliness.)

I fucking HATE the autosave on blog. i HATE it.
i jus did a massive ass blog and made one stupid mistake that erased evrything and it saved it.

AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. i hate rewriting stuff, then it's liek a task and not heart-felt. blah blah blather on blah blah.

so, anyways. i realised that most posts i do center around one common thought or idea or feeling. and i don't particularly liek that because that's so..constricting..i hate titles because it fits everything into that box.and suddenly you have these expectations from it that you have to live upto and i din want that with this blog. i originallli started this out to keep track of things that happened, and also jus to leave my mark, have something to contribute to the great literary world on the net that noones really appreciates..how much of my famous shitty words are gonna be up on sumones wall one day framed in gold?
interesting thought. while it lasted.
now this thngs become more of a journal tho. daily diary thing, sad as it is. and seriousli, how intelligent do you think it is to have your heart and your head out on a sleeve like that? VERY dumb. to be honest if someone i knew was doing it i'd think they were very stupid.
that just goes to show much I really respect myself.
kabooodles of respect seriousli.
kaboodle is a new word. I say so.


pst. i will not attempt to make any coherent sense or follow one particular train of thought in this one.just a heads-up

like a glimmer of light, like a vision of life

Vision
Epiphany
Revelation
Enlightenment
Illumination
Moment of truth.

Alot of random stuff to get thru with today..ahah sounds like the daily news, 'Hello and Tonight on BBC...'
which incidentally reminds me of me and my 3 other friends..we used to call our group the BBC a.k.a Bakwas Band Caro. yes Caro with a c, cuz i had to make it fit
and I said it so.Again.
i talk too much.

i remember when I was in second grade, this kid told me she didn't wanna play with me cuz ' i was bohot kali '
in layman's terms..ur too black b*^$#, ger outta ma face!
it didnt go down too well with my seven year old butterfly-lovin' heart.
OBV not. seein as i still remember it 12 years later.
i dont forget shit in a hurry.
I'm SORRY im swearin aight! jeeeez.

and I also remember when I was 17, i walked into this aunti's room and this woman that I had never seen or met before in my life told me I was remarkably beautiful and should try modeling, because I had the features and the build for it.
Goes to show just how wonderfully blind people are, aren't they?

I think that's probably why I kinda picked up on dad's don't give a rat's gravitating left paw's big toenail about looks thing. ( din wanna say rats flying arse and fit myself into another lame-phrase stereotype) 'cuz looks matter as much as about chicken feed.
(which matters alot. if there was no chickenfeed there'd be no chickens and then there'd be no parties and then there'd be no love and then there'd be no life. taken shamelessly from a rather idiotically catchy Indian song. yes those ARE the actual words of that song.

anda agar na hota..

can't find a single decent picture that goes with the whole beauty isn't skin deep thing.
Deviantart, you have let
me
down.

dad..if there was an Embassy-hosted ultra formal dinner, and he wanted to turn up in a vest and a lungi, he would.
'cuz he was cool liek that.

God i miss them
it's been two years. its.been.too.long.
and this is just the beginning. and its pretty shitty already. yay.



turn up. turnip. onions.
friggin salt and garlic and ginger and lo and behold, chicken and gravy to go.
i will be your purr-fect bahu saasu maa, and you will love this f.o.b heart of mine. meow.
this is what 4 30 am and writing TWO identical blogs from memory does to u.

with drug. it fades.
time heals all wounds and wounds all heal-ings.

heal-ings is a word. I i i i i said so.
i cant think of a synonym.

i think im allergic to some preservative in frozen food. everytime i have some i end u with a mini-strawberry coloured pink hill on my cheek or the bridge of my nose.
VEHRY shmexci.

i was on a skypecall today with my aunt having an audio convo. my uncle kept makin lame jokes from the background, sayng out phrases he knows i say often. like sahi bataein.
i laughed. but not from the heart.
somehow i think i won't ever be able to forgive him.
for everything. for nothing at all. maybe it was nothing.at.all.maybe.it.was.just.a.hyperbole.

Story of my life, searching for the right.
But it keeps avoiding me.

you are about as innocent as the murderer who stands in the middle of smashed glass with a bag of stolen diamonds and a gun and says 'who me?'
the original metaphor was too gory and had to be edited out.
ran along the lines of piles of corpses. yeh. and im-the-emo-in-denial.

ran into Liza who invited me to a party on friday. but like, omg! whut will i wear!. drug asked if i was sure it wasn just to make me feel better, last minute thing.
i told him no.
i'm starting to think.
Pa.ra.no.ya. (a.k.a paranoia)

need.to.sleep.
i'm.out.
be.here.later.all-ee-gate-er's.
lame.

-eeda

ILike.

just one of those things...

Love is patient,love is kind.

It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking,
It is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects,
always trusts,
always hopes,
always perseveres.
Love never fails.

L is for the way you look at me.
-eeda

ps- that chinese script apparently spells out Love too..exquisite.

Hyperbole.

fault-
to exaggerate is to lie.

therefore, i'm a liar.

isn't is brown to exaggerate? isn't it female to exaggerate? don't get me wrong, i'm all for female rights and stuff but it IS the truth.
and mostly, isn't it..poetic to? great sagas, classics, masterpieces..that's what they were about..elevate ur story and make it something superhuman.surreal.
divine.
Romeo wasn't just infatuated, it was love as love noone knows of.
Troy wasn't just defeated, it was conquered, mastered, overcome, lost.
Why else would Homer write 12,110 lines in ode to war in the Odyssey?
Why else the 154 Shakespearean sonnets to love?

Elevate pain- join the ranks of the maestros of yore.

i'm gettin into whut i call a lit.-fit. lol.
need to stop.

while we're on the subject tho, here's a secret.




hmm..i think Armie might get whut im saying..might.

he said i exaggerated and that i hope i knew it.
i know.
truth hurts. no, it stings.
there i go hyperbole-ing again.

sometimes u need to feel elevated pain to be able to feel elevated joy.
random observation.

khalu said i was easily impressionable.
half-truth.
i see Beauty in everything.

irnoic how im exaggerating the case for exaggeration.
Told you i kill miself. aha aha.

all for now.
-eeda.

ps. random exchange between Aayla and me.

me- we are gonna sit out in the garden and me and my kids are gonna get high
Aayla-your kids are gonna have what? herpes?

Aaaaaaahaha.. i'm not the only one that kills me.

Of being habby.

not happy. habby. cuz in libya there were no P's.
and my habbiness came from libya.

Well open up your mind and see like me
Open up your plans and damn you're free
Look into your heart and you'll find love love love love.

Randomness... i'm ina happy-go-lucky mood.

'cuz it's our God-forsaken right to be loved loved loved loved loveddddd.....

Jason Mraz is awesomeee.. or can be, at times.
i have a leftover-from-childhood obsession with beautiful dragonflies, butterflies, and stars.
sh that's a secret.
other secrets? i love lying on my back in the middle of the park.
i got the whole besharam-larki-humaray-khandan-ki-larkiyan lecture for that. to HELL with humaray-khandan.
oh,, and i love running through sprinklers. when i used to go out running i'd deliberately go on the side of the road with the sprinklers on.
fat babies.
coins in ponds that make the water look golden.
wishes. 11:11
mochas with cream. hot showers. my sisters arm on my back when we slept.
falling asleep to lullabies.
sitting in the terrace with shifa at 5 am eating icecream and watching the sunrise. and singing. and talking about highschool crushes.
the smell of dew on grass.
the smell of nail polish remover and gasoline.
smell of soil after a long over due rain.
babies feet.
berry flavoured laffy taffy.
swinging. with ur eyes closed. at night.

there used to be a petrol station close to our house in karachi called QT. they demolished it years ago. there was a park next to it and a coupla rickety slides and stuff..and just one swing right at the back under a tree. dad used to take me there at 10 in the night sometimes when he needed gas. (HAHAHhaha..he shoulda just eaten beans..LAME joke!) that's where i fell in love with swings. i'd sit there for hours and beg dad for 10 minutes more, and sing. Oh and that's probably one of the places where i fell in love with singing too. correction, Belting out songs to ur hearts content.

good good times. there were good times no doubt, it's just so easy to forget them.
the menial details.

talk about an ode to childhood.
i need to write a poem about this. just not right now. at 1:34 am when I have a paper on money and motivation due in 7 and a half hours. think it's about time i get started on it.

i think this post is in part inspired by Aayla.. don't ask me why. i was jus sitting there talking with her about poetry, and romantic goo, and soppyness... and it reminded me of how things used to be, when the world didn't have black and gray and it was just one big rainbow with romeo and juliets all around...though considering, if it was rainbow all around there's only be juliet and juliet or romeo and romeo...another lame joke..
Regardlessssss, it's about the idealism.....and she's still like that. and so is sabrina. and people like that somehow make me happy.

rangela ray, teray rung mein yun ranga hai mera man.

okay ENUF. seriouslyyyyy...last post i was out to murder sumone, ( that would be myself) and now i think ima hug everyone on the street ( and be labelled a drunk hippie pedophile whore and chucked into the loony bin or the prison where i'd MIRACULOUSLY get my hands on sum cocaine and live happiley ever after.) with the warden.
OOOhhhhhh, and in the limited edition grand finale version (it'd be classy and sold in golden foil) he'd help me escape from the place.. sumhow..and we'd haveALOT of babies, who hopefully would take after the hottie warden and thus have a decent chance of looking beautiful.. Oh and they'd ALL have glassy blue green eyes...and i'd make 'em wear multi coloured bandanas and they'd sit with us and smoke hashish all day. and we' all be a high habby family.
oh, and we'd all have flower tattoos. even the warden.
NO he WONT be gay 'cuz he has a flower tattoo.He CANT be 'cuz OBV he's married to me and do i look like a man to you?
DO i?
well no, i just waxed so dont gimme none of that i-see-the-hints-of-a-moustache-on-you bullcrap.
t.m.i.
regardless, it was a hot warden while he lasted.

and it starts in my toes and i wrinkle my nose.
( it's cuz u smell..Loool)
you make me smile please stay for a while now
holding me tight.
-'Bubbly' by Colbie Caillat.

ah. i feel bad for people who read this. wait, no one does cept thwan. cuz she's loyal like that.
and she knows the very worst of me anyways so its all gooood.

ahan. Arrogance i TOLD u.

and why all the pictures?
'cuzzzzz

''and all the megapixels in this world

they couldn't capture what you mean to me girl...

if a picture's worth a thousand words

a million pictures couldn't speak for her.''

-Gabe Bondoc, 'If Only'

la la la la la, la la la la hey hey....

All for now,
tension not basheeryay.. 'cuz every little thing's gonna be alright..
-eeda

Nostalgia

of a bad kind.

heads up- this post will be MAH-JOR-LYY emo. so unless its a choice between this and say, a research article on ''The functionality and contributive dimension of a toothpick towards furthering the cause of World Peace''... do yourself a favor and stay away from this. have an anti-depressant or two.. go to la-la land.
though come to think of it, if there ever WAS a research article titled that, id DEF read it.
whatttttttt?????? i LIKE toothpicks. FASCINATING objects that they are.

enuf of the warning.

i used to think that i'd gotten over it. the past i mean. the glorious reason for which my mum and dad sent me here. kinda like, 'we're now going to wreck ur life, and then send u away to heal it.' and no i wasn this way JUST because of the genes. nature and friggin nurture.
i feel liek swearing alot more these days.
so, as i was sayingggg...i thought the fear had gone. that fear that had killed me my entire life. fear that something will go wrong, fear that ami abu will fight, fear that i wont get enuf A's and not make anyone proud, fear that my bro and sis would take after me, fear of this and that..that all-consuming thing swiveled around me constantly, choking and drowning..i ws sooo edgy and anxious all the time.
note. ALL.the.time.
and then they noticed. and then they hurt. and then they sent me here so i cud heal and not make the mistakes they made to make me what i am today. and i thought i was okay, especially since Golf had done a good job of helping me get over most stuff, i have to give him that much credit.
and then two days ago something happened and i realized that i hadn't forgotten. that it hadnt left me. it was just, quelled. pushed down.subsided. but not escaped..and even though it lasted just a second, but it.bought.back.every.single.memory. EVERY single damn one. the fights, the quarrels, the screaming, the violence.trying to fix things. trying not to let them see..the fits, the suicide attempt... when khalu left my room. not when he entered, cuz when he entered i had no fear, i had no reason to fear..but by the time he left, i knew. and everything changed.. and its still always there, i'm always scared shitless that he might relapse, and ill b alone. and the time with that driver in the middle of nowhere. the time when i got lost in Mecca. the time when i opened up my ILC results in the middle of a deserted computer lab in Manhattan College. the time when dadu died. the time when Aum died. fear of loss. fear of being hurt.

it's still there.

and im scared of it. im scared to be scared. i dont EVER want to feel that again. and no matter how hard ive tried to be strong and how tough i appear to be, i've fooled Everyone here, except for myself. every-fuckin-person believes im this happy lil kid who skips between the flowers and nothing gets her down cuz shes get her head on straight and she takes shit from noone.

lie.

and i keep saying it. i am still a child. that doesn't mean its always about the rainbows and the candy.

i want to get this Out of me. somehow.

which is ANOTHER good reason why i wanna get high. ahahha...see it all works out.

oh, and roachie left for egypt. he very generously told me this yesterday. didn't care to say bye. and wont see him for another month or so.
u know what, i SERIOUSLI need to get rid of all the kachra in my life. i've got way too much of it.
(and oh armie, kachra means trash :P LOL.)

okay enuf rambling..gotta study, been putting it off tooooooooooo long.

oh oye, one last secret before we go. its not mine, but it explains why i stay up to talk to armie and to drug and to whoever the hell else.


oh-so-emo
hand me a razor sumone..boohoo. baahaa more like.
cynicism.


when ur alone, u think. when u think,
u.go.mad.
soo..... trade brains for cocaine.
bahahaaaahahahahaaa..

ima kill miself with my lame jokes. theyre LETHAL..lol...
oh, and hakuna matar everyone, because peas are goooooood..
-eeda.

ps. that was another lame joke.

I want

to be fuckin' high out of my mind.
not self-induced high-ness that i'm usually on. the real thing.just once.
high enough to forget my own goddamn name.

i need a
flaw.



i need
to let go
without trying to.

'cuzz im blue if i dont breathe, id die da ba dee da ba die da ba dee da ba da da ba dee da ba die cuz for a minute. in that minute. was a century .was fury. that i hadnt seen since the march of 2006. when dad had lifted his hand. and i saw that fury in ur eyes .and it chilled me. killed me. grilled me to the floor. u bashed round. the sound. rang in my ears. i was still. chilled. felt ur anger and ur pain. saw ur insanity and i was quiet. u cried. denied it.
but.u.cried.
as much u refuse it, i saw u. the helplessness and the agony.
and a part of me died.

it died again when today u told me u didn't remember anything from last night.

and don't bother asking me now what happened, that madness is mine alone to deal with. i don't want to remind u again, make u remember, bring up those words that truth that mood that fear that clenching in my stomach so hard i felt like i was going to throw up every bite id had in the last week.

but i know this. ive never drunk in my life, but i still know this, as Fact ;-
drunken words are honest words.
if anything....thank-you for your honesty.......

and now. we rant.

let us say that it was good while it lasted..let us say that dreams do end, so u dont need to make that choice between reality and dreams anymore...because there is no dream...because there was no dream because all there was, was an illusion. thats gone. and i know this. why in the fckin hell do i know this..why the hell do i keep tellin people its okay? be mad at me or walk away or punch or slap or dowhutthefuckingever and i will not say a word cuz its always okay. 'cuz no its not okay. it is not fucking okay. i'm not ur doormat. and i wish i was strong enuf to say that to ur face. and to urs and to urs and to urs.

which is why i need to be high.'cuz u get to say whut u want to say, and it doesn't count. and it doesn't hurt.

still no rainbows!?!
-eeda

ps. armie dont freak out. or worry. i'm fine. just a little ranty =)

p.p.s-hey u, got meth?
ha. my cynicism cracks me up. aha aha ahahahahaha.

edit-he drove back at 6 am just to talk when he ws supposed to stay over his frnds place. he belted out evrythng abt him,good bad ugly, said he missed me a coupla times, and fell asleep.
he sleeps so peacefully.

and im SO confused.
-eeda

Lyrics.2

this was gonna be part of the original post but then i found a picture to go with the poem thngy, and that def. deserved a little limelight of its own.

it's like we're both on
parallel highways
suspended, by parallel
strings high above
the world.
Our realities don't
intersect.
We stay rigid in our place.
Twist and turn to cater to
life's
everyday monotony.

But for the brief moment
our breaths
overlap
I am alive.

Before reality pulls, before
we return to the gray, the
dull, the here and now
the never will be.

-ACK...TOO emo..
aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...
seriousli, this feels weird....the next 20 odd posts are gonna be about rainbows.
oh, and Smarties.
-eeda

ps..i jus realised i've done a post like this one before.... with the exact same picture..ahahaha..so much for tryna make this one special.

Stage Five- Le Fin.

go.went.gone.
as we speak.

another stone.

Lyric.

lyr·ic-–adjective Also, lyr·i·cal.

1. (of poetry) having the form and musical quality of a song, and esp. the character of a songlike outpouring of the poet's own thoughts and feelings, as distinguished from epic and dramatic poetry.

i've been thinking for a while to do a blog in pure lyrics.
(some of these are mine, some by others)

I can see these fading lines tell stories.
Memories
Etched deep.
Into the crevices of my palm.

Figures lie. and liars figure.

How is it that
you're an asset
and a liability?

'and nothing can stop me except divine intervention.'

I can already see the story spelt out
across the sky.
I'm my own oracle.
I sense disaster as it comes.
sense Disintegration
of a bond. a habit. a feeling.
Knowing you care. Knowing you're there.

Realism will be my downfall.

When i miss you
i sing
bring
memories into my
mind
find
sublime
joy at things
we used to do.

and i'll put you in a little box and store you away.

Sometimes I feel like a MS word file.
stretched taut to the sides of the page.
fully justified
of every breath I take.
I am predictable.
Written.
My full stops, question marks are all in check.
I am margined.
My personal bubble
1.5 inch
The white sides roll around me like a shroud.

Happiness is knowing when to stop.

Hate the bluntness.
Love the Realism.

Lesson Learnt?
Be Very careful of what you wish for.

Meeting you is a tedious task.
I remove this mask behind masks.
Face behind faces.
I come undone.
Naked and vulnerable in your judgement.
Burning in the embers of your eyes.
Trusting.

Illusions are lethal.

That blind thing


Remove
me
from the glass shields.
the numbness has gotten too Real.

Riotously Ablaze.

Half flung lines
Half sung songs of glory.
Too fast. Too soon.

You are neither here nor there.
Like a soldier fighting two battles.

You are my breath without breath. .
Life-source without oxygen.

another stone i put into my shoe.
another stone, to remind me of you.

I hate to segregate.

Regrets.
I look back and I'm thinking.
I could have done without this.
It's too late to fix.

Silence. Solitude. Serenity.
Peace.

I lose myself in tiny things.
scrabble. random chats.
The superficial. the fake.
Live in my alternate realm.

Assumed Blindness. Not written in stone.

So I saw your eyes today
On another man, passing by.
They
didn't quite see my soul.

don't douse into the uncertain.

I need my
Mother Theresa,
my Edhi, my
Gandhi.
My Saviour.
Emancipate me.

Belated Relapse.

We're the class act.
I hide behind your shadow.
Blend in. Invisible.
Almost like I didn't ever
Exist.

Door-mat issues.

i wanna remember you
like sand caught between the toes.
not quite heaven, not quite hell.


sweetest downfall.

and from the centers of your clenched palms
I will draw out rainbows.
I will splash them on every easel in the world
and ill dip the hues with pieces of you
and paint you
in a million shades.


p.s that sounds like mohay rang de basanti expanded. LOL


-all for now,
eeda

.

Level four.

Hit the decline.

In their words.

for when ur own run out.

taken from deviant art post secret.
It's Not plagiarism when the source is acknowledged. HA!







especially those that are accompanied with good company, good music, and rain.









Just to go with the 'dreams' theme from the previous post.
-pst, armie. u know what this means. Again.



and i spent the last 45 minutes tryna find sum other good ones but no luck.
secret--> i want the last 45 mins of my life back.

A penny for your thoughts
A nickle for your kiss
A dime if you tell me that you love me.

-from Guantanamera, by Wycleff Jean.

Nadir called me today while i was talkin to drug. I tried telling him id call him back an i ws busy with sumthin bt he wudn listen. he was PISSED..like mad pissed and just wanted to rant..i had drug waiting for a while, which made me feel liek shit afterwards cuz it was realli late ther nd he'd stayed up to talk and frankly if it was me, id b pissssssed... i dunno why i felt like mentioning this...jus feel bad i guess. hmmm.. btw this lil piece has nothing to do with the lyrics above, don't be gettin any ideas.
oh. and they were playing live jazz and reggae at uni today at the Cornerstone, with the waterfall and the sun out and the bright blue sky. and thennnnnn, they played 'Every little thing will be alright/ Three birds' by Bob Marley.
and.everything.was.just.Heaven.

live for the little moments.
'cuz basheereye,,,,,kenu pata, kal hovey te na hovey....
-eeda.

pst. im not punjabi.