Navigating Solutions and Darkness

  Panic and fear. Too many things. Floating along, lost, unguided. Feeling as though nobody else speaks my language. Feeling as though perhaps I do not speak their language. How can such stupidity make sense to everyone else? Did we not grow up speaking the same language? How are people so willing to be content with ignorance? What stops them from discovering the whole truth before making accusations? How do those accusations make sense? I am not calm. Why did she say I was? I have not changed. Why did she think I have. And if I have changed - is that a good thing? Among snakes like those, isn't it right to be angry, to be flame, to burn everything? No, telling me I am calm doesn't please me. I must be fury. I must be fire. I must destroy everything before it has the chance to destroy me. Panic and fear. Too many decisions. Fear. Fear. Fear. FEAR. I cannot survive. I cannot live. I wish for death. I wish I was dead. I wish everyone was. - Written June 2, 2017 Context Unknown 

The self-doubt is crippling. 

I've often wondered about rock bottom. Would I know when I hit it? The answer is no, because I seem to live there.

I asked God if it was okay to be melodramatic and she said yes

Photo by  Benjamin Behre  on  Unsplash Written December 14, 2010 Sometimes, weird things run wild. Those days, maybe you handle it. Maybe you don't.  There are some thoughts that aren't even said out loud. Not even to your reflection in the mirror. Saying them out loud would mean a loss of sanctity... it would mean exposing them to the differently structured minds of other people.  They won't understand. They never do. And when you do say it out loud, not even your reflection in the mirror is sympathetic.  Yes, it's time to move on. It's time to take this thing I know, and lock it away in a safe somewhere. And then set that safe on an island and set it adrift on an ocean; peaceful and calm as the glassy lake on a warm summer day. This thing I'm locking away involves a deep set belief grounded in pure Soul. It has a streak of white hot Hope on it, a Hope that's dangerous if set free. It's not the paths we traced to get to here that ...

Photo by  J CS  on  Unsplash All your life, you read about things and think about the things that intrigue you. There are societies, and their rules. If you're not intrigued by these rules, you will accept them, and live by them all your life; never once questioning them. If they're intriguing, you begin to wonder why they were placed there in the first place. Who put them there, and what do they stand to gain?  What happens when you break these rules? I've thought about these rules all my life. They're not always set by an external authoritative figure. Sometimes  they're just there, in your heart. Call it social conditioning or what you will. The further you think about them, and the deeper you question them, the faster they begin to fall apart and disappear.  Once I had established that the rules were gone, I realized that I couldn't afford to follow suit. Sans rules, it was a short drop and a sudden stop; before you know it, you find yo...

Photo by  Bruno Henrique  from  Pexels Written November 30, 2010 The little bird was afraid to fly. All his brothers and sisters had leaped off the ledge and soared upwards, flapping their wings with ease. But he feared the water that lay beneath, swelling hungrily. He feared the wings he had never had to trust before. The little birdie was pushed off his ledge. He had to fly, or he would fall and be swallowed by the hungry waves below.  My Therapist on the Roof told me I had no choice. I'd been pushed off the ledge, so I had damn well fly. The problem is, right now, I don't know whether or not I've forgotten to flap my wings.  I'll start now, before Fear raises its ugly head and roars out loud. It's a scary prospect, which is why I always manage to hold that wolf away. Maybe not this time. Maybe a little scaring is in order.  When you step back and look at the bigger picture, it scares you, because you're reminded that you're not alone. A...

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.

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.

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 ...

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 ...

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...

I stand bewildered in the Room of Tapestries, and watch as looms of Fate weave the courses of lives. I wonder if it's worth anything to try and find the lines of my life among the invisible threads that crisscross all around me. Photo by Javid Naderi on Unsplash I settle myself on the floor, cross-legged, and look up at the open sky above. The room has no ceiling, for reasons long since forgotten. Outside, the last glimmers of sunset disappear behind a moss-covered hill. Lady Night spreads her mantle over the sleeping world. The humming in the Room of Tapestries becomes louder, more noticeable. The clack-clack of the many shuttles becomes faster, accelerating the rhythm of twilight into resonance with the night. The threads of a billion fates glitter in the moonlight above me. No longer invisible, they float like eerie insects on jeweled wings. I gaze up and up, till where the walls of the Room blend gently in with the indigo ceiling, studded with stars. A billion wis...

Crossposted. Compose date: September 26, 2010 These things happen.   They’re hard, but we get over it. They're called exams, and they come calling twice every trimester. These other things happen. They’re even harder, but get over it I shall. A drama masquerading as love, which tries to get under my skin, but it too shall go. There is truly something to be said about cutting one's nose off to spite one's face. By now, I’m so used to it that I know the nose will grow back. And if it's a really ugly nose, surely it deserves to be cut off! Then there’s fugliness masquerading as dreams.   They creep about my head all night, and as if that weren't enough, come sit on my open notebook when I desperately need to study. There are these voices I hear in my head at night. Well, not really  in  my head, but at least on the other end of the phone. They're called friends, and they're fun to listen to. Oh, and they like to listen too!!! :) They are t...

Written September 24, 2010 Once upon a time...  (no, not in Mumbai)  the hands of uncertainty marched sternly around the face of time. Nowadays (yes, in Bangalore), it's  tiny black digits  that keep changing inexorably on the green face of my watch. Keeping time to an uncertainty that began its dance three journeys before. Journeying along the same dark road, where long, long ago (no, not in a far, far away land) this tale of insanity began to unfold. The rain strikes my face, dealing blows to my ego I would have thought impossible a few months ago. I wonder to myself, and to the cold wind that bites through the wet clothes and down to my skin. I wonder whether leniency may not be my worst concern. I wonder whether or not I'm being untrue to the ideals I set for myself along the way. It's hard to let go of those things I treasure, because that's the way I see myself. Too bad the rest of the world doesn't agree with my opinion. But who am I kidding?...

Written September 22, 2010 A familiar brick road stretches out at my feet. It leads so far I can scarce see where. It's lined by cotton candy, so I know I hate it already. And goats stare at me from the roadside. Small wonder it's boring. I started off with a purse of gold. Now it's just a penny left. Not enough for a spicy chicken pizza. Not even pepsi, coz that's against my diet. I started off with a Heart of Smiles. And everynight I curl into a place I can never go, somewhere I can never be. It's an illusion, a dream, an angel smiling out at me through the clouds. Maybe that's why I grasp at it, like the child that wants the moon. But when I was a child, I didn't want the moon. I was sensible enough to know what it was, to know that it would be too much for me to handle. I can't help giving, it comes naturally to me. I can't help hurting, it comes naturally to giving. I can't help talking, because the angst rises up in rebellion at t...

Written September 19, 2010 It was so effortless. Before I knew it, my world was spinning in a different direction. It was like my mind and the world around me were moving at different speeds. Things took time to sink in, and by the time they did, they'd faded away already. It took me a while to understand the pain. It took me longer to take that pain and turn it back on the source of it all. It took me a while to learn. And when I did; when the realization finally hit me, it was all I could do to sink down to the floor, and sob my heart out. I cried that night, because things like this happen only so often, and you're so much smarter if you know to grab it while you can. And because you're smarter if you know when to let it go, because you're too late for no fault of your own, and   it doesn't really matter that everything's just right. And why? Because it was the right height, the right smile. The right edge, because there was no q...

Written September 7, 2010 A dark series of squiggles make their way down and across the page, in that order. Cheap poetry and lame jokes are the order of the day. For once the silence has retreated and is content to watch from the top row of the bleachers. For once there's no raining on the court while the ball's in play. There's a rose that lies at the back of my locker, wilted and fading away. It's a rose I don't expect to see in bloom again. It's a rose I've put aside, but one I cannot bear to throw away. Perhaps I should consign it to the bonfire I've made in my backyard, out of all the relics from the past. Perhaps keeping it in my locker is dangerous, for it might bloom again. Roses such as this one have been known to bloom more beautiful than before, long long after they withered away into nothing more than thin brown sticks and faded and detached petals. And in my excitement, I might just reach out and grab it again, forgetting th...

Written August 30, 2010. The more things change, the more they stay the same.  I want to dedicate this post to all my beautiful, smart and loving girlfriends, who definitely deserve much  much  better than the Losers in Tin Foil that they keep running into. I have a feeling that all the Knights in Shining Armour died out during the Medieval Ages. Damn the Crusades!!! Now all we're left with are these egoistic morons who think They Are. (I swear there is no other way to describe their mentality.) They are God's gift to Womanity. They are the answers to our every prayer. They are what we fasted every Monday since we hit puberty for. Just watch out for that patronizing smile that makes your skin curl. That look in his eyes that says,  "Yes, you're  my  girl. I am your God. Aren't you so lucky? I can't wait till school ends today and I get you on your own." [Note: Yes, I have had ALL OF THE ABOVE lines used on me.] This is where I immortalize th...

Written August 27, 2010  Apparently, there are people on this earth who call up their mothers after an argument to make sure they (the mothers) sleep okay.  🤷🏾‍♀️ Oh, and by the way, did you know that people are actually very nervous about being left alone? I mean, if you look closely, you will notice that nobody actually does anything alone, of their own free will. They're always surrounded by friends, and if they even need to go to the loo, they drag a friend along. This is especially true of girls. If they're, for some strange reason, not with friends, they try to strike up conversations with people who they don't really talk to much. OR, and this is even better, they start fiddling with their phone. Check out the relaxed shoulders, the way someone leans back casually when they're on their phone. They don't mind that they're physically alone, because they're  connected . The word  connected , by the way, is The Word these days. It's ...