This Year's Love-Part Trois

Yes, I continue on in what must seem like an interminable rant to the half a person out there who is reading my blog. My life can not possibly be so interesting so as to inspire three whole posts on my year, and yet here we are, part three.

I thought the third of the series should be little less intense and personal than the first two, so here's a series of highlights and firsts I experienced this year.

My first international flight, well my first and second.

My first pub discussion on politics, and my second, and third, and fourth...

My first and only sip of Red Bull.

My first and last cup of Turkish Coffee.

My numerous walks along the river Thames.

The British Library.

My brief visit to Leeds.

The Smoke.

The Maybe-Lesbian Triplets of CAC.

Oxford Circus, which is both a gift and a curse.

Virgin Radio.

CAMDEN!

I know there are more, but that's all for now. My brain seems to be slowly falling asleep. If only I could drink caffeine without staying awake for weeks on end...sigh.

This Year's Love - Part Deux

Ok, so I decided to make this a two-parter. Maybe it'll evolve into more, I don't know, all I do know is that I have more to say about this year.

So, here's the thing about change. Sometimes, you just don't want it. If you were somehow comfortable with the status quo, then you have to be dragged, kicking and screaming into what is new. Without giving away too much, let me just say, I was comfortable, I mean really, really comfortable, to the point, that I was also completely oblivious. If you get used to being miserable, then misery, can start to seem like fun. It's your shtick. Your life sucks. You base all your conversations on that, you base all your decisions on that, and you base all your relationships on that. This, to the point that normal people just can't be around you, and don't know how to be friends with you. And before you know it, you turn around one day, to find yourself crying on your own shoulder, because everybody else has just left. And then, maybe change isn't such a bad idea.

And it can happen fast too, a couple of steps in the right direction, and then suddenly, your phone rings. That is how change entered my life, over the phone. And even though I jumped eagerly at the chance to make my life different, I didn't always enjoy what had to be done. Sitting here on my bed at the end of this year though, I have to promise you, it's worth it. That first time you truly enjoy your new self, that first little feeling in the pit of your stomach that let's you know that this is completely new, that feeling is worth all the agony, and the kicking and the screaming.

My life isn't completely figured out yet, there are still aspirations that need to be reconciled with pragmatism, and responsibilities. One thing, however, is for certain, change isn't my enemy. There is no point in finding comfort is the old and familiar if it makes you unhappy. And there is always a chance that your decision to change your life could end up, well, sucking. But there is always a chance that it could turn out absolutely fantastic. That, my friends, is a chance worth taking.

This Year's Love

The year is almost over. And I can barely believe that I made it through intact. I can honestly say that this has been one of the very best years of my life. It's strange how you wake up one morning and realise you are not the same person you were just a year ago. In fact I am almost entirely another person. Well, almost. The best thing about moving away, is that suddenly, your old life has a bright shiny spotlight on it. You spend the first few weeks romanticising the life, and the people in it. And you miss them terribly. And then, if you are smart, and motivated, you find that feeling disappearing ever so slowly. You make new friends, you see things you have never seen before, and you find out things about yourself that you didn't even know existed.

The worst thing about the spotlight is that you start to see exactly how inadequate your old life was, and the true colours of the people you left behind. There isn't a protective buffer between you and reality, it is what it is. And while this is painful at first, to realise your friends aren't your friends, it is also refreshing to receive that push forward to start changing the way you live your life.

And if all this sounds just a little too sentimental to you, then let me remind you that the year is almost up, and we are all allowed a little time for self reflection.

Before I sign off, let me just say, to you my reader, thank you for spending a tiny amount of your life here on this crazy, silly, pointless blog of mine.

Grumble, Grumble

I know, it's been long.

I read this thing in the paper today, and I am loosely calling this pitiful excuse for tabloid trash a newspaper, where they were talking about drug use, and they seem to have coined a brand new term to go with what is now increasingly fashionable, functional hedonists. I mean what the fuck is that? These are acceptable members of society because they are rich, and manage to haul their asses out to parties without falling on their faces every time they get out of the cab, and we should accept their drug use as a positive aspect of their lifestyle? These are the people who have pretend jobs, and party with those celeb types, and who only twice a week pop into the loo to snort coke?? Because Britney and Lindsay are the true disasters,as long as you managed to put your knickers on in the morning, and avoid getting photographed "showing the world to them", you are fine! This country is filled with mindless, impossibly stupid teenagers who will read this, if they can in fact read, and believe it to be the gospel truth!! I swear we are going the dinosaur way.

What was the point of that seemingly interminable rant?? Drugs, people, drugs!! They are not acceptable, in any quantity, and yes, Valium for no particular reason counts. You can not claim to be a regular person, if you do drugs, even if only on the side.

Ancient

I am ancient! I am old, so fucking old!! Fuck, fuckety, fuck, fucking old!! And the sharp thrill has been taken from the joy of my achievements. I should curl up and die right now for all the worthlessness that I am. And old, did I mention old??

Starry Starry Night - Don Mclean

For my friend Gooseberry, Palamner, and for Vincent

Starry, starry night.
Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer's day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.

Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue, morning field of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.

For they could not love you,
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.

Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless heads on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in the ragged clothes,
The silver thorn, a bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.

Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will...

The Secret London

I have lived here now for over six months, and I have to finally confess, that I have deeply and irrevocably fallen in love with London. Not the London everybody else talks about, the red bus, the wax museum(which I have yet to visit), the celebrity clubs, the Broadway shows. These are indeed part of what makes London unique and vibrant, but the London that I love, lives in secret.

The London that I love has to be smelled and tasted and experienced to be understood. It lives in the street markets, with the different ethnic foods on sale, Turkish, and Mexican and Chinese. It lives in the multi-cultural, multi-ethnic, multi-lingual people, in the little French man who sells you freshly baked bread from a cart, and the Korean lady who sells you sunglasses for five pounds. It lives in the history of the city, from the Globe, to every second building you pass by that you know has been there for a hundred years, to the bridges across the Thames each with a different story and a different name.

But most of all, it lives in the bounce that it lends to my step, every time I think about the fact that I, that little nobody from nowhere and nothing, that I live here now. That everyday, I get to go out and discover a new reason to call London a true love of mine.

The President of We-are-so-badly-fucked.

Let's talk about the new to-be President of India. Much is being said and written about the fact that she is a woman, but the real issues have been swept aside, not only by her supporters, but her detractors as well.

She is a nobody, with minor qualifications, she has never been elected to a position, only appointed, and as has been revealed by the Indian media, and the BJP in the last few days, she has more skeletons in her closet than any person in politics ought to. And of course, she claims to be able to communicate with a dead guru.

My biggest problem is that she is an avid Congress supporter. She has been in the Gandhi family's pocket for well over four decades. The post of the President is not meant to be partisan. While mostly ceremonial, the post of the President in a country like India also carries a lot of power, not the least of which is calling an emergency, and having complete and total constituitional power during that time. Have we also forgotten that the President must sign any new bill into law, and can veto the same? How can we trust a President who has obvious party affiliations to be impartial and subject only to the merit of the bill? And most of all, how on earth can we trust a woman whose first response to being nominated for the highest office in the country is to claim her dead guru possessed the body of another to predict great responsibility for her??

Protest, people!!! Take to the streets!

Random, Incoherent.

Politics and the academic. We are sold on the corn-fed man next door, who grazes cattle and makes dinner for his many offspring in his spare time. There is no place for the intelligent man, as if that is not a standard we must aspire to, as if that is a standard we must revile. Education is the silver bullet. Arrogance is not morally reprehensible; it is merely disconcerting in individuals with power. And I am not talking about arrogance of power, but arrogance of intelligence. What is wrong with education making you superior? Isn’t that the hope of the billions who toil all their lives away to send their children to the better school, the better college? Everybody should want for their leaders to reflect their better angels, instead of their baser selves. Why do we look for the least of us to be in charge, rather than the best of us?

DRUNK MOTHERFUCKING MORONS

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate drunk people? Alcohol turns perfectly rational human beings into unreasonable, slovenly, stupid creatures, who can not see past their own drunken little toes!! And now I must contend with a whole legion of them, not only being intoxicated in all the glory of Smirnoff, Bacardi and JD, but must also tolerate their taunts about my sobriety and seeming lack of abandon. To this I say, absolutely nothing can sell me on the benefits of alcohol, least of all, your behaviour right now. I can barely manage to not throw up on the people I encounter when they are sober and they are intelligent enough to stay the fuck out of my way, but when they are inebriated, and can not tell head from toe, I just want to slay them all.

You dumb, dumb class A arseholes, I have seen people I love drunk, and I hate them in that moment as much as I hate George Bush, what makes you think you sad excuses for human beings would merit treatment that even my close friends do not get???

Canonball

Today is a sad day. I am loathe to put pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard, as is the case, but I am all alone, without any human contact whatsoever, and I am reaching out to you, my fellow lost souls in the ether. I could just be swallowed up, but alas, few things go my way, especially on this, a day for tears. Thank you, I just needed someone to talk to.

Light up, light up, as if you have a choice!

SNOW PATROL BABY!! I went to my first big concert, and they were fantastic!! I am a little bit in love with the singer, and the band is really good live.
Best part? The tickets were free.

The Tragedy of a Mundane Death

Between the ages of 13 and 15, the death of two people irrevocably changed the course of my life. The first person was close to someone who has gone on to become one of my oldest, closest and most valued friends, and the second person was someone who held immense relevance to my own existence. Both of these deaths are important not only due to the proximity of these people to me and mine, but also because these were two people taken before their time, people who left behind young families, and those that could have achieved much had they remained alive. The second point is especially relevant. The death of people who leave young, impressionable children behind is always tragic. When both of these people died, the outpouring of grief was like I had never seen before, or since. People still remember these events, and get a little misty remembering these individuals, like they never got over that instant. Since then, almost every year, I have been witness to the loss of at least one person around my age. And each time, the reaction is always the same, disbelief and shock.

Today, I experienced a different kind of death. Someone very close to me passed away last night. Now this person was not someone I am deeply emotionally attached, but rather, someone who has always been around in my life. My whole life, this person has been a significant relative, a familiar presence, if you will. I was shocked to learn that he had passed, and am still unable to truly comprehend it, but back home, there is no shock, there is no tragedy. The real tragedy is that his death had been imminent for a while now, he had seen through most of his responsibilities, he has grown children who are educated and well placed to take care of themselves, and their mother, and most of all, his passing is almost mundane in comparison to those who I had spoken of earlier. The voices on the other end of the phone were calm, distant, almost composed when receiving my condolences.

All of this has led me to my new moment of discovery, that there are people in my life that are going to pass on in the next few years and they are all older, those that have lived their lives out, and those that will not be mourned as deeply by those around them, simply because all things have their time to pass. This discovery is really, really depressing. The idea that the death of someone so close to you is not devastating, not life altering does not sit right with me. In my mind, certain things should be Shakespearean, there should be great tragedy in the death of someone, and great joy in the finding of love. These events should be worthy of poetry and verse, they should change the way you perceive life and they should change the course of your existence.

So I suppose true tragedy lies in the human condition, that is now so cynical, that even the drama of death is lessened by our jaded view of the world.

Democracy, the Media, and them sons-of-bitches, Politicians.

The Prime Minister of Great Britain, with just a fortnight left before his official sign-off, after four hundred and twenty seven years at No.10, launched a blistering attack on the media likening them to a "feral beast" that "tears people and reputations to bits".

Mr. Blair, really? I mean, really? Two weeks before you leave, when you should be preparing for semi-glowing tributes from even the harshest of your critics, of your stay in the Prime Minister's job, you go and criticize the media for doing their job, and entirely fuck up your chances of getting even a half-way decent compliment, and have instead incurred the wrath of newspapers editors everywhere. What was the highlight of your Prime Ministership, Mr. Blair?? The years you spent sucking on George Bush's balls instead of making independent decisions for the UK? Or was it that fantastic ,landmark, historical decision to send troops to both Afghanistan and Iraq, and in the process, sacrificing any sovereignity England might have had, at the altar of the mighty United States?? Your last few years were marked by increasing frustration at your inability to act as anything but a lap-dog for Bush Jr., and now you're pissed off that your reputation has been torn to shreds?? It is easy for you to criticize the media, we all know that you would rather have had no opposition whatsoever to the illegal war in iraq, but really, what the fuck were you expecting, you daft prick??

In the Western world, democracy is viewed as a magical, universal salve to all problems. Its a fix-all for every single situation. The reality is entirely different. Enforcing democracy rarely solves anything. It is merely the start of a long, arduous struggle towards an end that might actually never be reached. America, the world's oldest democracy is struggling to function most of the time, and what democracy, is actually a democracy, when their president rushes off to a war that is illegal, and that is opposed by the majority of the country?? The "of the people, for the people, by the people" mantra, is simply that, a set of words that is recited repeatedly in hopes of invoking its meaning into reality, while actually having no discernible effect. The media is essential in a democratic nation, the fourth estate is the bulldog at the gates, and if it weren't for that particular establishment, democracy which exists in the vaguest sense at present, wouldn't. That is the basis for judging a democracy, its media, and the freedom of speech upon which every democratic nation should rightfully be based. Why the spiel?? Well Mr. Blair, you can not very well to have laurels handed to you for essentially performing fellatio on the American president while in office, can you?? And why criticize the media for doing their jobs, and exercising their freedom of speech, when your own job was woefully mismanaged, to say the very very least?

Politicians do not ensure democracy. If anything, democracy is condemned to politicians by the very nature of its composition, and they must be endured rather than applauded. If Tony Blair was expecting his reputation to remain intact, and not torn to shreds, then perhaps, and this is just a tiny little thought, he should have paid closer attention to his duties while in power, instead of whining like a little bitch, at the very end of it.

AIDS

News of 5 children in Kerala who have been expelled from school for being HIV-positive, against government, and legal orders, has reached me here in England. I can not say that I am shocked at the small-mindedness of the school for expelling these children, and caving into pressure from other parents who do not wish their to be "infected" by mingling with these children.

Let us start with the fact that these parents have most certainly been educated on how exactly AIDS spreads. First of all, Kerala is the most literate state in the country, and if by any chance these people were not aware that AIDS can not be contracted by their children playing or studying with the infected. they were obviously educated after their complaints to the school. So, if they were not in the dark, then the only explanation for their behaviour is that they are petty, narrow-minded, cruel, and stupid people. The school for its part has most definitely failed its students, and its community by simply giving into the pressure exerted by a few individuals, instead of taking a stand, or at least doing as ordered. We must wait to see what happens next, as the school is in violation of the law of the land.

Then, there are reports of studies showing that the numbers of infected persons with HIV in India has been grossly exaggagerated. In my belief, nothing good can come of this information going public. To begin with, we don't know if this study is, in fact, legitimate. We can not say for sure if this information is to be trusted. In a country like India, where, even today, great taboos exist with regards to sex, sex education, and sexually transmitted diseases, we can not afford to have the efforts, and the slow progress made by a committed few in spreading awareness, halted by stupid and unsubstantiated comments such as these. It is irresponsible, and only provides fodder for the moral police who view AIDS as a dirty disease that promotes promiscuity and would rather see it swept under the carpet, than addressed. Even if these reports are to be trusted, the numbers of those affected are in the millions, and the campaigns that promote safe sex, and AIDS awareness can not be stopped, or toned down.

A little leg goes a long way

I learnt a little gem yesterday, and I think it might actually change the way I think of things. So perhaps for the first real time in my entire life, I wore this sexy short skirt thing, with the whole shebang that ususally accompanies that sort of attire, you know, the heels, and the hair and the earrings, and so on. And the reaction to me dressed in the above mentioned, was, well...unexpected.

So, here's the thing, I am not the bombshell-can't-keep-our-eyes-off-her-type of girl for guys. Now, don't get me wrong, by all accounts, I am reasonably attractive, average-looking, great hair(yes I said it myself), and easy enough on the eyes, even if I am a little overweight. However, I have never caught the eye of any guy by just walking into the room, except for once.(and for that I will always love you, Mr. Nagarajan) Yesterday was a completely different story. Despite what my best friends, Gooseberry and Mikosan(not their real names) think, I do not self-perception issues, I call it like I see it, and in this case I have always seen it this way, but yesterday, dear god, yesterday! Instead of going on about it, can I just say, that the guys were all over me, and for the first time ever, I turned heads by simply walking into a room. All because i showed off my rather fantastic legs(again, yes, I said it myself) just a little bit, actually a lot.

So the aforementioned gem, people? A little leg, goes a long, loooong way!!

A happy crush on Orlando Bloom

I just saw the final Pirates movie, and I must say I have a happy little crush on Orlando Bloom. By happy crush I mean that I have fun looking at him, but have no residual feelings of inadequacy and hurt that comes with having a crush on a real person. So there.

Barack Hussein Obama, Jr.

In America, this presidential race will see a Democrat win. The Republicans only have a fool's chance of winning. Their frontrunner is a redneck personified, a dull and uncharismatic war veteran, John McCain. The other name that stands out is actor Fred Thompson, who has only recently thrown his hat into the race. With the Bush administration recording its lowest ever numbers in polls of recent, and the Virginia Tech massacare still fresh in the minds of the voters, the Republicans themselves can not think they have any chance at all.

That then leaves us with a Democrat as the winner, and the 2008 race sees two extremely high profile and exciting candidates in the fray, Hillary Rodham Clinton, the Senator from New York, and Barack Obama, the Senator from Illinois. Clinton does not interest me, except as an opponent of Obama. I personally find her, harsh, vulgar, and unmotivating. Her stint as the First Lady was marred by controversy, and then completely overshadowed by her reaction to and support of her husband's extra-curricular activities while in the Oval office. Her biggest selling point is the fact that she is a woman. While I am not denying her experience both as a lawyer and an active First Lady, and then subsequently as a Senator, there is no question her biggest appeal is to the female voters as a woman.

Now we arrive at Obama, a first in many respects for the American public. His unusual name is at the very top of the list. American are used to good, regular names, that sound Chrisitian, or at least jewish. They are, in fact, not fans of unusual names, least of all a man with a Kenyan name, and a middle name that is Hussein. Obama is the son of Kenyan man, and a white woman, who was raised in Hawaii. This unusual cultural mix is disconcerting to most Americans who like to see their leaders come from solid backgrounds, and conventional families. Obama is also obviously black, and is probably the first African-American candidate to have a serious shot at the presidency. At 45, Barack Obama, is very young to be running for president, but his youth brings with it a sense of hope and promise for the voting public. Unlike many other candidates, Obama has publicly discussed his use of drugs as a young man, and has not pushed it back into the closet for it to emerge in the middle of his campaign as a scandal. He also has the support of most Hollywood liberals, including Oprah Winfrey who has come out publicly supporting his candidacy for President(which is not really a positive in my book). Obama has also opposed the war in Iraq and has criticized the Bush administration's policy with regards to pulling out American troops from the country.

Obama's biggest selling point is his vitality, and his charisma. Elections are about perception rather than about politics, and Barack Obama clearly wins on that count, he is undeniably appealing to all age groups and all ethnicities, he is attractive with a young family(too young to cause drunken scandals like the Bush twins) and he is the sort of person each person can pin their individual hopes to, whether he does indeed represent those hopes or not.

So, here's the thing, I like the guy, and I think he has a halfway decent shot at rescuing the world from Bush's catastrophic decisions. So, if you're American, and you're reading this, vote for the fella!

Unfinished.

Life is good, I think. People are leaving, but they always do. The weather is reasonable, which is saying something for this part of the world. I have a job, that I might actually be halfway decent at, that's always something. And yet, I have this feeling that something has been left unfinished, like the light was left on somewhere, that the heater is still running, like I left the house without my wallet. You know that feeling when you're running to do a hundred things, and just around the time you've finished the first, your mind suddenly stops, and you remember that you left your grandmother on the bus?? Yeah, that feeling.

The other shoe has dropped.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop

You know when people try and tell you that each person in the world is different and no two people share circumstances, or destinies? Well that is only partially true. Yes, every individual, is just that, a single entity like no other, but people can also be classified into different kinds of situations. There are those that sail through life, having everything handed to them, regardless of whether they deserve them or not. Some others who can never get anything right, for whom anything that can go wrong, most certainly will, and how. Some that work hard everyday, and also have some good luck, things go well for them, and those around them bask in light of their truly deserved happiness. Finally there are those, who wake up every morning and work incredibly hard every single day for everything that they have, but should fully expect things to go wrong at a moment's notice. I belong to the last category.

Now, don't get me wrong, this is not the tragic tale of karmic imbalance, of people who sit and weep at the foot of their beds for all of the things that have gone awry, and all of the people that have fucked them over. My life is far from a tragedy. In fact, I have a pretty damn fantastic life. It is just also that my life has taught me to never count on happiness. Here's how I see things, you work as hard as you can to achieve what little you can, but just when things start to get comfortable, something goes wrong, and then you have to start working again, on something else. You never rest easy, and you are always insecure. This has always been my life. Most of the time, its a good thing, because you value everything you have, due to the fact that you worked hard, and sacrificed much to have it, but its also unsettling. You can never sit for a moment to enjoy good things, because what this type of life also does is fuck you on some basic level. I get terribly tense when things start to go well, because then I am just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

So, here's the thing, I am currently waiting for the other shoe to drop, and its driving me to distraction. No sleep, and this uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach that causes me to reach out to knock on wood all the time.

Overkill-Colin Hay

I can't get to sleep,
I think about the implications,
Of diving in too deep,
And possibly the complications.
Especially at night,
I worry over situations that
I know will be alright,
It's just overkill.
Day after day, it reappears.
Night after night,
My heartbeat shows the fear.
Ghosts, appear and fade away,
Come back another day.

The Beatles, a note.

Kindly ignore the many grammatical errors and the terrible writing in the previous post. Eloquence, and generally good sense eludes me when the Beatles come to mind.

The Beatles

Let me start this entry with many thanks to the sisters Krishnamohan, who first brought me to my everlasting love for John, Paul, George and Ringo.

For a moment, let us set aside the pop culture phenoms that they were, their massive impact on musicians down the years, and their contribution to the world of music, and instead, just examine the joy their music has brought me. I can not explain how much I love them, but here's an indicator, I cried when George died, and still sometimes tear up when I hear his songs. I hate Heather Mills with a vengance, and Yoko Ono boils my blood. But here's the biggest clue, I call them by their first name, as if we all went to college together, and still pop by each other's homes for a spot of tea.

I can't write about them without going crazy, so instead I will just list some of my favourite songs just now, because my favourites of theirs change from week to week. There are just so many to choose from, and they are each as wonderful as the other.

I'm only sleeping

Revolution

Don't let me down

Eleanor Rigby

Daytripper

Across the Universe

Golden Slumbers

Penny Lane

Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds

oh dear god, I could go on and on forever, but I will stop. For now. Again my thanks to the Krishnamohan family, especially to Gooseberry, who loves them as much as I do, whom I love even more.

Socialising the wicked witch of the east.

So, here's the thing, I am in need of an active social life. The traditional remedies do not work for me, mostly because of my anti-social nature, and of course there' the fact that I HATE people. And by hate I don't mean mildly annoyed, or vaguely irritated, I mean, I loathe the very existence of the unfortunate creatures that cross my path. So how does one meet guys, or even other women for that matter, when one is pissed off immediately when one of the above mentioned attempts to strike up a conversation? And I don't even turn them away gently, no, I am not done until I have crushed any semblance of a happy and hopeful spirit that might have existed once in the poor guy. My tactics include laughing, using all of the abundant profanity I have amassed over my years of swearing, and of course, physical violence, or at least the threat of it. HELP!!

Growing pains

So, here's the thing. As you grow up, there are certain things you come to depend upon. Some truths, some version of yourself that you like, some people that you trust. However, as you grow older, these things are less certain, and therefore less dependable. The american movies will tell you that this is what growing up feels like, that certainties are meant to be lost with age, but we all know how I feel about anything patently american. I sometimes think, that the best way to live life is to set yourself up for disappointment, and that way, you are actually never disappointed. Does that make any sense. The truth, perhaps, is somewhere in the middle.(cheers go up in the KFI audience) That this is what growing up feels like, but a smart person will also know to never expect anything. And, unfortunately for me, I am growing up, and I am smart. Which is why I am tired. I dislike change. And everything isn't changing, it has already changed. I just got left behind. Now I am left with the difficult task of moving on, alone.

Love should be...

Love should be, like the song in my ears now, gently humming, like that line I love, like death,instantaneous. Love should be, long, and irreverent. Love should be like sunlight, after a really long cold weekend. Love should be like wandering into your favourite dream, and ice cream, that's just about to melt. Love should be warm, and should glow. Love should be like a blow to your stomach, leaving you speechless. And I should be in love. Quietly.

The world is a sick animal.

32 students were shot to death in a unversity in Virginia,USA, after which the gunman killed himself, bringing the death toll to 33. What the fuck is wrong with that damn country? People throwing their lives away on drugs and booze and pretending they have the world's biggest problems, problems big enough to shoot a classroom full of students going about their business!! They have everything, every fucking conceivable luxury is available to them, it is not called the land of opportunity for nothing, and they choose to behave in this manner. 70 percent of the population in my country lives below the poverty line. 70% of over one billion is over 700 million people who live in poverty. That is hundreds of millions of children who are literally dying for the lack of 3 square, no, 1 square meal a day.

What arrogance and sheer madness prevails in that fucking hellhole of a motherfucking country?? If I had the oppurtunity, George fucking bastard Bush would be strung up by his own intestines and left for a pack of jackals to feast on the rest of his rotting carcass. M0THERFUCK!!

A new blog name, does not a life change make.

So, here's the thing, I changed the name of my blog to reflect the phrase i most often use in my pitiful excuse for writing. And I thought my life has changed. Except it hasn't. I am still a stupid girl lost in the big bad, fucked up, really really REALLY expensive city. What on earth...........

Death come softly.

I will die tonight. In my sleep. And I will be gone, and in peace. I am a blip and a whore, and tonight I am gone from here. Slowly and softly. Please cause me no pain. Harshness will awaken me, and I wish to be asleep when I go.

Please, please, please let me be gone. Let me have died.

Trust

Trust is for the birds. Don't believe in it. People will always disappoint you. They will always hurt you. Nobody cares for you. It is easier to push you away than to care for you.

So fuck them. You do not need anybody, and nobody can hurt you. Fuck them.

Creepy

You're creepy. You call me at night and whisper on the phone, and I don't know who you are. And you follow me, to the kitchen, with your calls. You are older than me and you dance like you're on drugs. And you make me uncomfortable. Normally I would punch your lights out, or ask you to "FUCK OFF", but I don't know you at all, or well enough. Stop creeping me out.

I love him...I do.

I love him...I do. He fills my thoughts and I tingle, if only for a moment. And then its gone. But in that split second, I have loved him, so much, that I can barely breathe. He's only a memory, he's not real. He does not exist in this time, and on this plane, but he's everywhere to me. I can hardly put my arms around him.

Make this longing disappear.

The Good, the Bad, and the Whipped Cream of it.

So let's start with the good - it's warmer in london. The sun is out, and the heavy jackets are coming off and its gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous. London bathed in sunlight is a sight that everyone must see. Of course, being a creature of the tropics, I am joyous!!

The bad? Well the work is really starting to pile on, and somewhere at the back of my head, I am freaking out over what has to be done, and how much there is and...
This, however, makes me NOT enjoy the aforementioned lovely weather.

Now we finally arrive at the whipped cream of it!! I bought one of those can thingys, that you shake and then spray and then whipped cream comes out of it. Only a pound, I am telling you the best 88 bucks I've ever spent!! This means, though that I will be returning home twice my natural size, but who gives a fuck when there's whipped cream, right?

London, Baby!!

Since I knew I was coming to London, I've had one phrase, "London, Baby!". It is all I said when people asked me where I was leaving to. Having gotten here, though, I have to admit, I have not partaken in that sentiment. I have been weary, and cold. Today, was different.

I was finally persuaded by some nice boys (who have my many thanks) to take a walk from my hostel after a hearty, Indian, home-cooked meal. We went via Waterloo, to Westminster Bridge, through Trafalgar Square, to Leicester Square, and back. And I saw some of the best of London, in the slight drizzle of the night, with the sounds of two saxaphone players, straining to get heard amidst the traffic, and chimes of Big Ben. I saw the National Gallery, and the Hard Rock Cafe, and the Comedy Store and Her Majesty's Theatre. It was my best time in London ever. And it was free, in the most expensive city in the world.

So, I can return to my previous enthusiasm, having seen some of the best the city has to offer. London, Baby!!

Cupid's dead

And, no, I'm not talkin about an Extreme song. Let us for a moment pause to discuss the woeful lack of men in my life. There are literally none. There's my brother, who, is well, a comprehensive ass. There is an ex-best friend, who, as should be obvious by his title, is no longer in my life. and then there is a much adored ex-boyfriend, who i have not heard from since i moved nations.

So, we return to the fact that there are no men. One poor, unfortunate drunk Srilankan boy worked up the courage to ask me out, only to be shot down, and be mistakenly identified to my friends as Punjabi. What can I tell ya, the world is a fucked up place!!

What do I do now?? I am in the most expensive city in the world, and a nice, rich, good-looking boyfriend is just the ticket, non?

Iran

This in deference to my friend, the gooseberry's wishes. Always glad to oblige my dear.

Is Iran the new Iraq, or the new Afghanistan? That is the question on much of the international community's mind. North Korea seems to be co-operating for now, and of course, there is not much to be gained in the oil war by attacking North Korea, so there is really no danger there.

Iran, on the other hand, is an entirely different deal altogether. But here's the problem for the Americans, They have lost their moral high ground after the Iraq debacle, Iran possesses more bluster than Afghanistan and will not go quietly into the night, and finally, no one will believe George Bush when he says that Iran is in possession of a nuclear bomb.

Iran, meanwhile, continue to do what is in their best interests. They do not believe that they should have to conform to the rules of a nation that is in control of over 800 nuclear weapons and can literally destroy every major city in the world within 5 minutes.

Here is Iran's argument, and it is valid, the United States has over 800 nuclear weapons, while Iran has none(atleast officially), Iran has never invaded another country whereas the US has done so twice in the last 6 years, and Iran has never used a nuclear weapon in any of its military engagements, whereas the US has used the N-bomb twice.

So really, what right does the US have to warn Iran, and flaunt the NPT in their faces??

For, now, I am entirely on Iran's side, and not just because I hate George Bush's bleeding guts.

Politics

So, I am doing this thing, where I am reining in my temper in order to put foth my point of view more effectively. Truly "diplomatic"!! I am engaging with people from all over the world, with their own cultural politics, with their own leanings and their own reasons to hate Bush Jr. The best part is that people want to talk about what they believe in.

This is the most exciting time of my life, where I have this opportunity to learn and talk about what I love, politics!! I have learnt about what the Iranians think of the impending blackout the US intends to impose on them, I have learnt what the Iraqis think about their future, what the French really think about the Americans. I am having the time of my life.

AND, my opinion matters, it is valid and intelligent and well thought out. Whod've thunk??

Sorry for the delay

I apologise for the lack of content in the last 2 months. In all this time, I have moved continents, started a new course, found new friends, braved the un-fucking-believable cold and attempted to change my outlook on life. That, my friends is a tall order, even for the most capable of people. And let me tell you, I am not the most capable of people.

What's new, is that I am now surrounded by people, who actively discuss politics, everyday. It's sorta what we're paying to do!!

So the consensus? It doesn't matter if you are Iran, Iraq, America or Pakistan, e=mc^2 and Geoge Bush is a worldwide arsehole.