I envy your ability to fall asleep the second your head touches your pillow.

One of many miracles.

-eeda

Beautifully worried princess.... my Eeda

Jaan,
You let me on your blog = trust
Thank you..

This is "drug" for the people who don't know...
yes its me.. and its my future wife...
she types
talks
embraces
taunts
remembers
crazes
drives me insane...........
tells me that im just like the others
like i don't have a meaning
like im just there just to EXIST
for her
just for her...

maybe she's right, maybe she is wrong.. maybe I'M wong
i donno.. whatever the case might be she is she
she is she
she is my love
my love to be
my love that i want to be with
to be with
to be with the rest of my life
my life
my life is nothing wihout her
without her.. you wonder

do you wonder?
without her do you wonder?


WITH-OUT-HER....


There IS NO WONDER!!!!!!!

Jaan.. you are my baby, my jaan my everything, my life..
I can't rhyme or be as poetic.......
I tried my best...
I love you jaanu......

my baby, my jaanu, my everything, my life.........


:)

I center my life around the very few things that are guaranteed stable,as my life loses semblance of any normalcy, routine, save the monotonous battles, wearing down of self.

Routine:
The 12 o'clock call Home.
The solitary dinner at the Student Center.
The Insomnia.

i've lost track of the last time i wasn't awake past 3 a.m, now pushed to 7.It is as if my life awaits the moment i see the clock tick its path down to the number, soul and mind coalesce with time and breathe together deeply, the marking of the end of another battle. tomorow will be yet another new day,the unending optimism dry humor.

my eyes are swimming to the top of my brain, heightened dome and the sound of drums. there are mirrors all around, reflecting the black on black, nightmares and the fear that keep me awake staring at blank caramel walls, waiting.
waiting for the hysteria, the delirium, the hallucinations, the 7 am ghost shadows curling around toes inching towards hands nails chin. I await, and there is no sleep.


She gave me a bottle she said, orange yellow glass this will put you to sleep. white marble buttons, deathpills or cherries, anything for relief from the drums the beating drums the screaming black mirrors. Is this what i have reduced to?
i stand witness to the annihilation of a beautiful soul, destruction i wasn't privy to until she told me she said,
here are all your pieces in this orange yellow glass. marble pieces take them home with you, before bed and with food, every night.

there is some beauty in this, i know. some beauty somehow.



here's to the first pill,
and hope.
-eeda

Of Bitches, Bimbos and Bastards.

Classic old-school eeda vent coming up. Haven't done this ina while, felt this young and stupid afterwards, or this liberated. Im glad i did it.
Please feel free to skip thru it, it's for my own memories :)
.........

Now let me tell you something.
It's not always the Nice Guys who get it worst, its the Nice Girls too;
difference, they finish last, but we
kick Butt in the end.
and Asses, and Rear-hinds, and Derrieres, and other such Extremities. 


and we kick it Well.

 Scenario 1- Nice Girl aka me tries to be friends with Bitch 1, aka you. You tell me how glad you are, and if you can hang out with me, because you know no one. You then get into the Crowd. You make me wait an hour and half while ordering me around school to 4 different locations before finally telling me you didn't have time to meet me and switching your phone off, thus living upto your title in all aptness. YOUR the bitch honey,your pretty Forever 21 jacket and the H and M shoes is buying your ticket in with those fucking jackasses, but its not buying you any friends.

Scenario 2- Bitch 2. I gave you a place to stay at 4 am, when noone else did, and at 2 am, and at 1 am. I let you sleep in my bed. I gave you my clothes which you haven't returned, you still continue to parade in and pose in because they're 2 sizes too small on you thus making you look sexy (aka overwhelming exhibition of the boobage) so you can take pictures and put them up on facebook. I cooked breakfast and dinner for you, made you tea, let you make a mess of my bathroom. You put me at the end of the show you were in charge iof, despite popular opinion, you kicked me out of the dance team and refused to let me join, you persistently ignore me and pretend im the scum of the earth unless one of your ''buddies'' gives me attention. I still called to congratulate you on the wedding. But hey, YOUR the bitch honey, you sleep at other guy's houses routinely and lie to your parents despite being fucking engaged, and by now married, you flirt disgustingly with your boy-toy, and pretend youre the shit. Youre right, you are THE shit. Literally.I REALLY hope someone shows your fiance the semi-porn pictures of you sitting in your 'bacha's' lap.

Scenario 3. Bitch 3. you, like bitch 1, wanted someone to hang out with when you knew no one. now ur in the Crowd. Jeans have turned to non existent tights, sweaters to mini dresses, shyness to party-animal hysteria. Bitch by assoication. Sorry.

Scenario 4. I gave you my jewellary to wear because you didnt have any, helped with your make-up, put nailpolish on your toes because you're one of those lucky brown bimbos who, its a surprise, knows how to breathe without someone strapping a fucking oxygen mask on your face, taught you how to walk the walk because you wanted to be part of the show without ever turning up to practise, to which you said, 'i owe you my life'. You, Bitch looked me dead in the eye, and pretended you had never seen my face before. Which in retrospect is alright,i forgot you don't have a brain, yes, cuz ur the Bimbo. Bitch starts with a B too btw, call yourelf blessed you're both.

Scenario 5. You are the Bastard. You're cool with me as long as everyone else is cool, you're not when no one else is. You pretend to be the Nice Guy but let's face it, you're after them because those pitiful creatures add substance to your miserably petty life, and you enjoy it. You'd kiss the shit that comes out of their buttholes if you could, and smile through your teeth thru it.

Scenario 6. You, You, You and You are trying. Except You're confused because you dont know why you're friends are this way with me, so you drag me in and then think better of it, and then leave me hanging.

You do what he does, or smile, thats the full extent of your God-given abilities.

You are are like You, that, and the fact You are too consumed with indian threesomes to notice me, and im the Family Friend from the past so you cant share the explicit details with me either.

But none of You have the fucking balls, despite being male, to take a stand and realize what petty mediocrity You willingly submerge Yourself in. Lack of testicles combining with lack of say, a heart and a brain makes for Shitty people.
End Story.


But you know what, at the end of the day, Im still better off.

The shallow Bitches are gonna realize no one but the Shallow Bastards wanna marry them. Theyll have the shallow babies and continue to feed idiocy into the human race, and have no cause for achievement except for probably being the most insignificant creatures on the planet.
The shallow Bastards are gonna look for Nice Girls to marry, so they can come home to cooked meals and a clean house. Guess what, Nice Girls learn from experience, you're not getting none. So they'll marry the Bitches and the above story will repeat.



I'm a Nice Girl, modesty in check. I played no hardball with any of you. I didn't resort to stripping down to practically my underwear to impress the Crowd and get in.I didn't resort to salivating at your feet to let myself in either. I did fucking give you respect, my time of day, forgiveness and a second, third, fourth chance but fuck it. Im a nice Girl but im not a Stupid Girl. I want to make good memories but anything with You will be beneath me.

And no, I'm not stuck up. Im proud of things you don't have. Like a functioning brain. Lik my certain naivete at times yes but almost for sure the maturity you all seem to lack. I refuse to partake in the mindgames the bitchfests the drama and the bullshit and the utter highschool-ish mindset you follow. That is Not me.

And if i think, that for a second the answer to my loneliness is to seek company and compassion from You fucking lot, then it is my weakness. I will Not let myself give in.

I wont. I'm learning by numbers and degrees, by repeated experiences and being let-down to realize, the world's a Bitch, despite my persistent belief in humanity. I need to start over, and find someone worth hanging out with, or find solace in being alone.







I realize this post makes me sound horribly whiny and omg-i-dont-have-any-friendssssssssssss, and omggggg-im-soooooooo-aloneeeeeeeee...
But its not like that.
The last couple of months have made me realize that there actually ARE people who are two-faced,hypocrites,self-serving,opportunistic; Bitches in every sense of the word.
I've realized that no matter what happens, I dont need to resort to becoming them, or making them happy, to have their company so that I can too can have some good college memories.

Maybe college is not about having a funtime and making friends.. Maybe it's about making the Right kind of friends, the kind who won't stab you in the back and in the ass for added benefit when ur not looking. Yeah it is about the partying, but i've been there done that, and its no fun when the people you're with have such severe fucked up personality issues.
Maybe i'm too uptight. Maybe i'm too mature. Maybe i grew up before they did, and they will never understand. Maybe.

Just push thru it, stay clear of Assholes, keep going and not let the loneliness consume me into its depths.
Yeaaaaaap.

For anyone reading who went to college in the Great North America, how was your college experience like?
Id really like to know. And if you too know people like those mentioned, maybe we should carve them a brand new Asshole in recognition of their efforts for being just that, and nothing more.
What say?
-eeda

''Cause I like being submerged                                 
                                in your contradictions,''














(eternally)

Happy Valentine's Day folks.
there,i said it.

the banter and the bashing for later :)

-eeda 

song-beautiful mess,Mraz. 

And sometimes, you have to go back to the past.
The songs, the pictures, the movies, the quotes.

try and  Remember who you are.


Nostalgia can be a beautiful thing, Sometimes.

Is this masquerade

finally over?
Can we put down

the roles that we've played

so many times?

-Walk Away.




-eeda

p.s
he didnt eventually do it. there is a certain affinity between our souls that won't dissolve easily.
but thank you, the support was Much required at the time.

to all the messages of concern, thank you.

khwab ke bojh se, kapkapati hui.

halki palkein teri, yaad ata hai sub....

-pehli baar, apkgk

colour me purple

let us mourn.

-eeda

they used to say i was a Talker.
i have had the words sucked out my tear-ducts.

nothing but a memory.
the dream and the reckless reckless reckless abandon into your infinite embrace,

'whiskey kisses and the sex, whiskey kisses that are best'

lies.

poetic nonsense signifying nothing, hollow plastic insinuations.
borrowed vocabulary.


i had so hoped to prevent this blog from becoming the reflection of pitiful young angst, petty mediocre and entirely pointless.
so is life.

that, in the way of justification. perhaps.
perhaps, words.

dar lagta hai akele sonay mein ji.

-dil to bacha, Ishqiya.

or perhaps, more.
 -eeda

-dumped-

HOT shower+chipped pink nailpolish+green towel+wet hair+milk chocolate frosting+laid back music
= Beautiful Saturday Night.




now if only he wasnt mad at me.

The Little Girl Complex.

I'm not okay.But I'll be fine.

.

You are the reason I keep trying to be normal again,

and You don't even know it.

Thank you

Also, check out this link,

http://www.theforgivenessproject.com

Maybe its time i did too.

-eeda

.

Lonely creature by the bar, blue shot glass, crystal vodka,... swimming mascara and empty eyes, the remnants of his goodbye..

The walls are oddly luminiscent, silver chandelier painted onto blood red, ceiling floor corner red. She gives herself up to the noise and the exhilaration, oblivious to the wandering hands around her waist, the stranger casually caressing her hair. It is about the lights tonight, not him. Just the lights.

The silver bursts like a twitching electric eel in aquamarine darkness. There is silence in this cacophony, depth in the materialistic shallowness. She passes from the arms of one into another, lightly held as if even they can sense her fragility.

'I can tell, you are having a bad night love'

The best night ever, actually. The oblivion, the drunkness, the hysteria subdued in the chaos, the cold night. Dark enough to obliterate everything, save one. Her thoughts find him, even in the daze. His face shimmers like a seraph.

Come home to me jaan.

She spins like a ballerina, a whirlwind before the Eyes. Spins, unravelling her dark secrets in strips of crimson cloth memories nightmares silently cried out. Silent.

find a way home find a way home find a way like a mantra. They are bewitched hypnotic by her fear her grief and her fire. They burn with her, scorched, screaming, and yet healed by her hysteria, convinced that to annihilate the soul is to find peace.

somewhere in the distance, he waits.

Annihilate. Spin.  Her feet chiseling grooves like twisted black pens ferociously carving out the history of her ruin. Catharsis. She burns on that floor leaving ashy footprints of soul she twists and envelops everyone everything inside her and together, they shatter into nothingness. Broken naked lost.

Yet

finally at peace.

Finally a way home, to him.

-She forever knows that when she does turn up at his doorstep midnight blue, carrying her pieces in burnt open palms, he will kiss the ashes to crimson soulsongs. He will kiss the ashes away-

this one, like everything else, was for u MD.

-eeda

Sonnet XVII:

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep. -Pablo Neruda

there is enough heartache in me, just enough
to keep together just enough
to not fall apart.


i read somewhere that if my soul was intact, my core
unmoved, i could heal myself.

i am too far gone. i dont even know
where my core is, just a faint sepia memory
bronze haze in waking dreams.


i have it all twisted, shattered. i
knowingly crushed everything to
smithereens, hoping
to find cure
in the liberating
annihilation.

i have only lost myself further.
i don't even recognize this two-faced
monster i have
become.

i am being sold
sold to honeyed words and
convictions of others morality
not my own.


where am I?

is it too late?


i want to will myself to change, will myself
to turn the hurt to scabs, and not open stinging
wounds i keep picking at.
no wonder it doesn't heal.


begin at the begginning, they said.
i will
bandage, nurture,
coax the soul to revive
again. fix
faith hearts i blindly
crushed, return
to my essential
essence. i
who could do no harm
never wavered
always stayed pure
true.


i refuse to have found defeat.


i need to do this for myself, for them and for
him. but mostly
for myself.
i just wish the selfishness would prevail
long enough
for me to actually convince
my own self.







/