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Showing posts from April, 2019

Melting Fire

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Photo by David Kaloczi on Unsplash Written July 19, 2012 And again each time I feel that gaze I'll know and remember A tainted sky The perverse lovers That graced its walls I'll know and remember The way you looked And then the way You looked away I'll know and remember Shards of pain Starb urst inside me Every time I draw a breath/ Shaky  Like glass figurines in the dark/ Eager  To play/ To dance On the brink Of a chaotic world A while since you've been gone Your face lingering In the days we avoid/ Glaring  At forbidden corners of the world Tendrils that reach out at night I'll know and remember Covering my thoughts In a blanket of you Walking down a path covered  In snow that tucks itself  In behind my foot steps and  We're almost at the bridge Over it even as we speak I'll know and remember Turning back for one last look Before I bend down/ And set My light to inflammable footsteps of snow I'd walk away As though

Throwback: Territory, Turf, and Mist That Doesn't Clear

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So many things to talk about in the coming month. Inspiration. Determination. Love, and associated imagery which I never tire of. Silence, Dreams and Fears. Things I did, and will do... and would want to keep doing forever.

"Not Fat Yet": How To Make It Make Sense

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And so we move forward in grudging stalemate, my sense of body image and I. Maybe later, I tell it. And it grumbles acquiescence because I've trained it to metabolize self-hate in shorter and shorter amounts of time.

Brainwashing the Brainwashers and Beating the Patriarchy

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Upholding of patriarchal values requires, as an essential component, that the victims be brainwashed into the system. When met with consistent and simple rejection of their values, coupled with the fact that the people rejecting their values do not depend on them in the least, their world fails around their ears.

Throwback: I Knew A Boy Once

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He was sweet, and had the cutest smile in the world. It was unbelievable, the way his smile used to light up my world. I used to think about him a lot, and wonder why he never made a move. Because our eyes always said it all.

Throwback: Insomnia Brings the Memories Back

Written November 16, 2010 Another night with insomnia keeping me company. That and the comfort music thumping a pattern into my addled brain cells. It's funny how Facebook and sleeplessness do these things to you, but I find my thoughts slipping into places they hadn't been to in awhile. I don't really know why I'm surprised, but I've tried to move on. No, really. But I guess I can't kid myself for long. Those things I try to forget, the memories that lie in wait in that locked room, aren't going nowhere. And besides, I did promise. I promised myself that I'd go back there, and pull the covers off, and maybe even do a little bit of dusting. Mostly, I think all I want to do is just sit and bask in the atmosphere of a world I never wanted to leave. Maybe those of you out there who still have what I could never have don't really see the point to it. Maybe you guys don't understand why I flinch every time someone comes out with that &quo

Coup D'Etat

Slow insidious ripples snaking  Up through the shadow-side m oonlit  A conspiracy to destabilize It's a motherfucking coup d'etat I breathe, I swallow, I heave, I retch  No brittle chokehold this  Pulverizing inwards  A merciless motherfucking coup d'etat  Blinding pain, a bubble expanding  Time slowing down as a virus takes my brain  Takes my pain, takes me away  All that's left is the coup d'etat  What is that noise?  An army thousand strong  Trembling the ground beneath Their march to this fucking coup d'etat  The battle lasts forever  An afternoon and a day/  The air  In my lungs all expelled in service  To this motherfucking coup d'etat In the end the ashes reign  Silence claws its foothold back  There are no winners here  In this motherfucking coup d'etat

Throwback: On Edge

Written October 2, 2010  There's something to be said for a remarkable absence of the instinct of self preservation. To the extent that you straddle the fence between safety and danger, and go till that other end of the world, and keep going till you drop off. And when you realize that it really is the last moment, you begin that frantic rush back, clawing your way upward anyway possible. And then there are these places, such as Law School, that naturally tend to trample on the little guy. So if you're a doormat, like me, you're a sitting sucker!!!! But you know what? Screw living on the edge and being stupid on purpose. I apologize for not taking the crap Law School dishes out to all of us... I would, normally. But I don't plan on it. Well, as far as resolutions go, that's a good place to start. There's this general observation I'd like to make again. Blogging Rate is Directly Proportional to Proximity to Exam. And this is true not just of me. Shutter

Steaming Pile of Brains: What Happens When You're Angry

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And I cannot stop shouting, because if I do, the threat comes back. I feel as though I have barely held it at bay, with my aggression, and I need to maintain momentum, because if it comes back, then my only recourse would be to end it for good before it ends me.

Take Me Home Tonight

Written May 31, 2012 Judgemental shadows standing by  Violin strains from hidden alcoves Velvet curtains and a prince in blue Spotlight on the centre of the ballroom floor You take my hand/ Ask me for a dance Spin me around and pull me in tight Cup my face in caressing fingers And whisper in my ear sweet dreams/ Of escape Into a vision perfected in my mind Where it's just you and I on the floor Waltzing to a tune woven with our dreams And we'll know what we left behind So take me home tonight In a carriage on plush seats White horses running loose Through the woods with wicked boughs Crackling/ the night swallowing us up As we flee our nightmares together And we'd draw lines together  In the sand/ And together we'd watch the surf run wild Let the days grow old around us Let the sun sink below the sea line These crazy dreams would dance with me Starring me and you in the old Wild West Help me open up a new chapter To a story ending here t

Throwback: Sexism in my Fandoms I - Not Peggy!!!

Written on April 18, 2016 The weather's beautiful. In Bangalore, as it is in Kerala. The heat wave woes are over, and the monsoon is officially here. I stepped out for a bit today and it was drizzling the whole time.  Awesome.  Too bad I feel like total crap, especially now that I've been caught up on all of my shows. I'm pretty sure there are things I'm supposed to do, but which I've totally forgotten about.  In the mean time,  Agent Carter 's been cancelled,  Castle's  been cancelled - but not  before  they managed to fire their lead actress...  The Originals  just killed off Cami AND Davina, bringing the number of their lead actresses down to a grand total of 1: Haley.  The Vampire Diaries  managed to establish that Damon thinks Christian Grey Syndrome is a sign of true love and also always the right thing to do... so much that he actually now expects other people (read: Stefan) to follow his lead. Way to destroy any hope for a beloved b

Throwback: High and Low Functioning

Written on July 25, 2017 Corporate life is not meant for those with mental health issues. I panic. I can't deal. I hate people who have high functioning versions of depression or anxiety. How fucking ridiculous is that. --- I switched to another tab to look up high functioning and low functioning and completely forgot that I'd written the above paragraph. Also, I've changed my mind. High functioning doesn't mean what I thought it did. It means someone who's able to maintain a positive profile in their public and professional life, as opposed to someone like me, who's unable to hide it. [Source] Perhaps high functioning is even more stressful than low functioning, because it can't be easy to keep up the performance. Work life needs to be more sensitive to physical and mental health issues. Work life needs to recognize that it's populated by human beings, and not machines. Work life needs to stop rewarding the people who most closely resemble m

Longing for Absence

I want to write in a structured fashion. Logically. Rationally. Calmly. I want to write for a result that is not a rant. I want, I want, but I don't always get what I want. I want to write a story about love. I want to write about my dreams, not the things I hope to achieve, but the actual dreams I have while I sleep at night. I want to write about longing, about that which is forbidden, about love that steals across a veil to make itself felt. I want to write about the things I no longer feel. I want to write about emptiness. Emptiness that is abstract. Emptiness that is social reality. Emptiness that is nobody's fault except everyone's. I want to write about anger. I want to write about fatigue. I want to write the words that refuse to flow.

Lyrics: You'll Be Mine

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We could bring a blanket for the grass Cover up your eyes so you don't see If you let me go I'm running fast One two three count one two three We could watch the black birds cross the skies We could count the leaves left on the trees We could count the teardrops in our eyes One two three yeah one two three One two three yeah one two three Now you know now you know How I feel and I won't back down Prick your finger on a spinning wheel But don't make a sound Drop of blood and now you're taken For all time With a kiss you will awaken And you'll be mine you'll be mine you'll be mine I could always stay and work it out Wondering if you still wanted me But there are so many things to doubt One two three count one two three Think that for a moment you were mine I know that you saw what we could be But then you went and changed your mind One two three yeah one two three One two three yeah one two three Now you know now you kn

Solutions I

Let's talk solutions. In a recent and ongoing conversation among many, many people, the moderator repeatedly urged us to keep the discussion solution-centric. As it turns out, it's a little difficult to do so when people don't even understand the problems involved. And it's a little difficult to point that fact out in a tactful manner. The problems are so myriad and so diverse, that even talking about them, and their resolutions doesn't fit all together into my head. So maybe this is going to be a series. Maybe I can work them out on paper and put them back together so I know the right words to say. Stay tuned.

Lyrics: Chanchala Druthapada Thalam

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Chanchala Druthapada Thalam, Ishtam à´šà´ž്à´šà´² à´¦ൃഢപദ à´¤ാà´³ം  à´¸ുà´•ൃà´¤ à´¤ാà´³ം  à´¸ുà´¨്ദരതര ഹരിà´—ീà´¤ം  ഹരിതഗീà´¤ം  വധു à´’à´°ുà´™്à´™ി  à´ª്à´°ിയനൊà´°ുà´™്à´™ി  മധുà´°à´°ാമഴ à´ªെà´¯്à´¤ൊà´´ുà´•ി  à´Žà´µിà´Ÿേ... à´ªൊà´¨്നഴകിà´¨ുമഴകാം à´®ാധവമേ  à´¨ിൻ à´•ുà´®്à´ªിà´³ിൽ à´¨ിറയും à´¸്വരമെà´µിà´Ÿെ  à´¤ാം തനനന തനനന  à´§ൃതള ജതിà´•à´³ുà´Ÿെ   à´šà´ž്à´šà´² à´¦ൃഢപദ à´¤ാà´³ം  à´¸ുà´•ൃà´¤ à´¤ാà´³ം  à´“...  à´¸ുà´¨്ദരതര ഹരിà´—ീà´¤ം  ഹരിതഗീà´¤ം  ഇവിà´Ÿെ à´µിà´Ÿà´°ുà´®ീ  à´ª്രണയ മലരികൾ  മദന പല്ലവമല്à´²ോ... ഇവിà´Ÿെ à´’à´´ുà´•ുà´®ീ  à´®ൃà´¦ുà´² ലഹരിà´¯ിൽ  ആത്‌à´® മഞ്ജരിയല്à´²ോ  ഇവിà´Ÿെ à´¨ിറയും  à´œീവരാà´—ം  à´ªൊൻകിà´¨ാà´µിൻ  à´ªുളകമല്à´²ോ  à´¨ിറപറ à´¨ിറയേ  à´¸്à´°ീ à´¨ിറയുà´•à´¯ാà´¯്  à´®ംഗളമേളമിà´¤ാ  à´¨ി à´°ി à´¸ à´¨ി à´ª  à´® à´¨ി à´ª à´® à´°ി  à´¨ി à´¸ à´°ി à´® à´ª  à´šà´ž്à´šà´² à´¦ൃഢപദ à´¤ാà´³ം  à´¸ുà´•ൃà´¤ à´¤ാà´³ം  à´“...  à´¸ുà´¨്ദരതര ഹരിà´—ീà´¤ം  ഹരിതഗീà´¤ം  വധു à´’à´°ുà´™്à´™ി  à´ª്à´°ിയനൊà´°ുà´™്à´™ി  മധുà´°à´°ാമഴ à´ªെà´¯്à´¤ൊà´´ുà´•ി  à´Žà´µിà´Ÿേ... à´ªൊà´¨്നഴകിà´¨ുമഴകാം à´®ാധവമേ  à´¨ിൻ à´•ുà´®്à´ªിà´³ിൽ à´¨ിറയും à´¸്വരമെà´µിà´Ÿെ  à´¤ാം തനനന തനനന  à´§ൃതള ജതിà´•à´³ുà´Ÿെ   à´šà´ž്à´šà´² à´¦ൃഢപദ à´¤ാà´³ം  à´¸ുà´•ൃà´¤ à´¤ാà´³ം  à´“...  à´¸ുà´¨്ദരതര ഹരിà´—ീà´¤ം  ഹരിതഗീà´¤ം 

Negativity Fatigue

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"Is it normal to want to slash your arms because the cats chewed up a second pair of earphones in one week?"

Fight, Flight or Freeze: The Anxiety Wormhole

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"I've got anxiety worming its way through my body..."

Eternal Step

Music bounces off the walls of an abandoned house, following the fading chime of distant anklets, desperately seeking a way out. Music twists and struggles at the exits in a deadly fight for survival against invisible, final barriers. A dancer's form silhouetted in the distance, framed by the light of a super moon. Shorn of anklets, cleaved from the orphaned music, alone it bends gracefully to the steps of the unknown. Unaware that somewhere far away, its death knell has already been sung. And as all life fades from the forest, as a world closes in on itself, echoes of the song remain only to haunt the dreams of a sleeping god.