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Vositha's Blog

~ a story of life, love and other things

Vositha's Blog

Monthly Archives: February 2011

Rants of an Insomniac

24 Thursday Feb 2011

Posted by vositha in Fiction, Random Moments of Life

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

clawing, emotions, messed up, scratch marks

Emotions! Fuck them! They just annoyed her and they just made her feel a weakling. And what the fuck was she to do if they were all that flew/flowed (not sure about this one) into her head of late.

Aaaargh!

Yes she was up again at 4 am, and yes this time he was right, it was her conscience that was fucking her sleep. Yeah, screw it all! She had enough of pretending to be the “ice queen” and the emotionless bitch. She had enough! Stress on the word enough! ENOUGH ENOUGH ENOUGH!

Aaaaaaaaaargh!

His sweetness (measured and offered) scared her, or well, rather creeped her out! His roses on Valentine’s day, the necklace he had ordered for her, and put into her hands with all sweetness, well it messed her head. It messed her fucked up head because it was already fucked up. It was fucked up cz she had NO ffing clue how to react to someone being nice to her. She had no clue when anyone had been nice to her of late. Or would it be better phrased if she said “ she had no clue of anyone EVER being nice to her”!! Yea quite a sad plight.

So what does she do? Call him up, ask him “ would you think I am a royal bitch, if i were to tell you that i want some time for myself?” (pronounce it the fastest possible and pray that he does grasp it, well a stop in between would have made it a task that was impossible, meaning the pronouncing that whole ffing line, which she knew was a mistake but could not nevertheless stop herself from uttering, cz the moment she said it she did regret it)

Surprise! He does not get what she says! Yes, not her ffing day. She knew watching “Message in a bottle” would not be the best omen for the day. She tells her friend while talking to her and watching the last minutes of the movie, as the man drowns trying to save some people who were in the middle of getting drowned, that it ruined her day and it can NOT be a good start to the day. Well what can you say? She was right! Well she was most of the time, just that people failed to admit it out loud.

For some reason, “drown” be the word of the day. Flashbacks of books, Marlon’s poems, something about swimming and “drowning” while his warmth rubbed against her hand she remembered. A “drowning” of emotions, or emptiness, whatever the fuck it was that she endures.

Not good!

She wishes she could have swallowed those last words of her conversation. She knew people could NOT handle her non bitchiness. Well he seemed no exception to the rule. Was she happy? Was she sad? She had no fucking clue! Well that is what she told him when she was frustrated with those god forsaken phrases of ambiguity which messed her brain in analysis. “ Why do you talk like that? I don’t have a clue as to what goes in your brain!”

“That’s the beauty of it!”

Fuck the “beauty”! At times she wished there was clarity! What happened to that aspect in people’s life!

Back to pulling her already messy, fussy and frizzy hair. A friend tells her “it’s okay to cry, you do not ‘have’ to be strong all the time” before she moves to quote Bob Marley? Yeah, well tough luck, she was incapable of those tears! Never had been capable of those.

A bed that be too big, scratch marks thanks to her own clawing and eyes of swollenness. No memories of caring , sweetness of what be not bitchiness. Blocked. All blocked. Laughter, kisses, gentleness, yea yea whatever! Nails biting hard on her skin, her own. The self destructing mode. Mmm sadism, or sado- masochistic behaviour. Re Brown, yeah those random points of law that she remembers, from out of her pit of a brain!

The smarting of the skin that burns. The sting of the pain of what be maybe emotions that she does not feel.

Emptiness. An empty black hole.

A pit of illusions of her own lost brain or mind or whatever you called it these days.

Criminal law, mm yeah something she should pay attention to. A lot of attention to it I presume.

The lights in a room that burns throughout the night, the eyes that refuse to sleep and the mind that fails to shut off, and the tears that she knows would never flow.

Inside her she knows it is over. But then again she knew she kinda loved him. Yes “kinda” in her own screwed up way. Something many people never managed to grasp and well rather never bothered to grasp.

He tells her “ women should not think too much”

Yeah, they should screw instead!

Insomnia, thou be my dearest!

19 Saturday Feb 2011

Posted by vositha in Random Moments of Life, Relationships

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

insomnia, possessive, relationship, seriously, sleep

I am back to being in a relationship with my estranged lover. Not “you” that I speak of, reference be to “Insomnia”. Sleep be merely a fling, it was never anything serious. We had our mutual differences and we both knew that we would eventually have to get back to our old habits, despite the admitted stupidity of those of course. Guess we needs must admit that despite our stupidity in being with these companions, we are both happy in these sadistic relationships. The ones that the world frowns upon and we thrive on! We are happy in our own comfort ( / dis- comfort) zone. I turn to my torturous relationship while Sleep resorted to cuddles of “others”.

Mum finds me strolling in the living room, rather “lurking” and wants to know what it is that bothers me. I respond saying that the nap in the evening did me no good. She wants to know if I want to sleep between dad and she. I wonder if she ever would get over picturing me as a 7 year old, who she needs must force feed, force sleep upon, solely for the betterment of human kind. (I strongly believe that she strongly believes that by force feeding my lovable sis and I that she would somehow contribute to the eradication of world hunger. I am NOT kidding) I answer in the affirmative in my head, (on the matter with regards to the maternal illusions on me) but remain silent. I choose not to tell her about my latest break up with Sleep. She would never in this world grasp the concept of a fling. Or would she? Not sure. But Dad would. He gets many things which I am surprised that he does. Kind of cool in some ways, and sometimes a little creepy.

So yea, the nap in the evening was not the best idea. Rathindra tells me on my waking up and admitting that it be not the best decision I took for the day, that “no one takes what he says seriously!” ( he counselled prior to my sleep that it was NOT a good idea, and double checked if I were sleeping when I was trying to sleep. Kind of reminds me of those moments, when you wake someone up who you know is asleep and ask them “are you sleeping?” do that to me anyone, will box your ears, or knock your teeth out! Yes, I am a very nice person, who vehemently despises violence!) well coming back to the point on the level or being taken “seriously”, I tell him that I DO take “him” VERY seriously. And am surprised with my response.
( Vositha ponders deeply on the matter while she continues her typing)

Yes funnily I do take “him” seriously, but not sure if I do take what he “says” seriously. May be I do, but then again, he does not say much at most times, I continue my rants and funny stories, or supposedly “funny stories” to which he listens without much complaining. Bless that man for his patience or the great ability at pretending to listen to me go on forever. (I mean literally forever!)

Mental note: Should be nicer to him in the future, or let me say, should “try” to be nicer to him in the future.

Well, the bottom line being, I did NOT listen to him, and is back to my relationship with Insomnia. It is quite a sad plight as I know that Insomnia is definitely a bad choice, having being together for a while I should have realised this before, but then again, what can I say, I am stubborn. Let me rephrase “pig headed”. ( Oh man, that was not the best expression, just reminded me of those pigs hung on hooks alive, in slaughter houses, and shown on the Humane Society video. Yes, that was quite dramatic, specially with my face appearing out of the blue when I was giving my ever so wonderful speech on animal rights and telling the audience to look at “animals”. I am in doubt as to which might have caused the audience more trauma, my visa photograph on the screen or the video that followeth it! Those who have not heard me rant the story of how my visa photo popped up last week at a presentation at the law faculty debates, please ignore the comments within brackets)

Coming back to reality and present day life, I have become totally domesticated of late, (not good) refusing to meet up with friends, refusing to go out, and actually managing to have a conversation for more than 15 minutes on the phone(this one being at least 1.5 hours long) with “someone” other than Sonali. ( Sonali be an exception to the rule, we talk to each other at least thrice a day. Yes we do have a lot to complain about. Life is good when we bitch, so we choose to bitch. Or rather, let me stop talking for her, life is good when I bitch and she “chooses” to listen! Am I not one lucky being? People do actually listen to me bitch, or at least “pretend” to listen to me bitch.)

Anyways I am still up hanging out with Insomnia. ( Sorry sweetheart, I do not intend to cheat on you, but then I cannot help it. We as in “I” and “Insomnia” are inseparable, and I hope you understand. And you being you, and your detached self I presume would understand. In any case you did proclaim to be not “possessive” despite your continuous stalking of my Facebook wall)

Yes, it is late. May be high time I head off to cuddle in bed with Sleep.

Oh man, am I a slut or what?!

Thoughts on Thoughts

18 Friday Feb 2011

Posted by vositha in Random Moments of Life

≈ 6 Comments

Life is all about wondering these days, about things, people and stuff. Dissecting the complexities of life has become very endearing and intimidating at the same time. Thoughts on thoughts, feelings on feelings, sentiments v reason, reason v nonsense, nonsense v being plain retarded. So many questions left unanswered.

I am jobless, feelingless (apart from at rare occasions when I am with a man who I believe to be emotionless) and well due to the afore mentioned reasons frustrated, or let me rephrase “exasperated”!

Wonder where the path of happiness be, yes, Vositha’s pursuit of happiness continues. I am not sure if Will Smith’s version ends in happiness or sadness, having not had enough patience nor the time to endure it till the end. May be now be the time of enlightenment on that matter. (meaning how Will Smith’s pursuit of happiness ends)

Sigh!

Life is far… (well I could have added far from ending, but then I prefer to reserve and refrain from that addition when I do not have the slightest clue about what “life” is at this very moment.)

Sometimes you live, but do not feel living, sometimes you are dead and still you are living. Yes I am not making any sense to most of you, just a thought about some people of whom I have reminiscences, who seem to have the capacity to haunt others from their grave. (there needs be a correction to this expression, as today most people are not buried, then again who cares!) Was reminded of this creepy possibility by my coffee companion yesterday (by the way I am getting immensely tired of “coffee” maybe time to look into others forms of beverages other than “coffee” and figure out whether it will be the same companion in front of me, nevertheless, that be another point of post) when he told me on my suggestion that he take the apple pie for his “mum” ( I was not being rude, merely trying to be sweet to a woman I have not had the pleasure of meeting, and most likely would not in my whole life meet, regardless of that fact, the story continues) and he adds, “If something happens to that woman she would…blah blah blah”

My ungrateful brain which starts to work on its own, when logical analysis be not necessary, starts demanding, on her ability on doing anything to him when she be dead! Then realise that there were exceptions to the rule, if “his” mum was anything like “my” mum, who constantly reminds me that she would haunt me after her death I think I can comprehend his fear to take her any “apple pie”! He decides to take it for his dad instead, who I think would not “haunt” him if anything happens to him, and who he thinks is a “cool dude”. (maybe be he might not mind his dad haunting him)

Anyways coming back to haunting from the grave, scary thought I should say it is, especially given the fact that my mum always keep her word, mostly when it comes to matters of this kind, (I mean creepy ones) where her breaking of word be highly desirable than its upholding!

Anyways, spending a day at home, idling and listening to parents bickering is not that bad after all. Just that the heat is killing me with awful headaches. Yes “climate change” has a role to play in life, whether by choice or coercion. Either way, I be entangled in it.

Yes Vositha shall not stop complaining for the day or for the next few weeks to come, unless and till she makes up her mind on what it be her objective of life.

Possibly to haunt others with her retarded-ness? Well that be a point worth pondering over! Why did not “she” think of such before?

Let “She” go and contemplate on the matter henceforth till her next urge to rant on what be nonsensical, useless, worthless and wasteful of time.

Adios Amigos!

“Epiphany”

12 Saturday Feb 2011

Posted by vositha in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

I met Harshu after more than a month. It is always nice to hang out with him. He has known me since I was a teenager and seen me evolve from a tomboy to what I am today. He chooses to say that I have not changed much in my evolution, and that I was never “innocent”, not even when I was sixteen. I choose to agree with him, so as usual, we are on the same grounds.

We discuss his life, my life, his new collection, and my unemployment while the waiter refuses to provide me the drink with “lime juice” but suggests that I have it with “sprite”. Tired of arguing with him, I tell him to bring whatever he wants. I have little patience with matters of the kind, and I am most of the time okay with whatever it be that I drink as long as it is not beer. So yea, let the waiter bring what he wants, and let me regret what it is that he brought when I check the bill. Anyways that is for later, let me not kill the mood with such thought.

Ambiance as usual was nice. Harshu knew how to pick it, once again I had no complains. The music good, the flowers on the table simple, and the lighting just right. Our talks go into how we should get married when we are both 35 (it was intended to be at 30 a few months back, but now had realised it be a little premature, hence change of mind and settling for 35. In any case neither of us were too keen on getting anywhere with anything in the relationship front, rather we did not seem to be getting anywhere in a “we are getting married” kind of relationship with any other party either. He, I still strive to set up on a date, and I date those who seem the least likely to ever want to settle down! So yeah we were pretty safe with our “marriage of convenience”)

We talk of past, present and future. The new dresses I want him to design for me, which he promises to do and the collar of the last one he designed which I am not too fond of, and my complaining on how short my neck be! (yes I can be very superficial at times) My phone keeps nudging me with SMSes, and Harshu says he wants to read my “love texts”. I tell him there is no “love” in the picture, and hit epiphany the very second, and gulp down his drink as well in the process. (He does not prevent me from swallowing it as he refuses to drink anything with alcohol in it.)

There was no “love”! I had to pronounce it out loud for me to realise the hollowness of all what I tried to read sense into. I wondered what it is that I was doing, remembered Araliya’s dislike of the American terminology on “relationships” and how she hated the word “dating” and how I tried to make sense of being “in a relationship” and “dating”.

I was a 16 year old all over again, wanting that illusion of a man I once thought I would have. I tell Harshu, “isn’t it funny, I wanted a man who would not booze or smoke!” (pretty much a mirror image of my dad, but a lesser annoying version)

Harshu replies “I am your man!”

We both laugh. It was always easy to laugh with him. To feel at home, tell all the weird things and be seen as that vulnerable creature and not the bitch that of which the world always had the glimpse. I think the bitchy me, that the world saw would have shocked him, while the world would have been shocked to see this me, that Harshu saw for over half my life and half his life! I remember being “nice” to my “boyfriend” and be texted back with “you were right, I prefer the bitchy you!”

The manager comes when we are leaving, tells us that there is a Valentine’s day diner offer. Harshu being his sincere self, explains to the manager who profusely apologies on the misunderstanding, that we were not a couple. He then watches us in shock as we walk out hand in hand like we have continued to do since we were 16 years old.

Walking down the lane, and climbing those steps to the apartment, I realised the emptiness. I realised that I did not want SMSes that kept flowing in but a voice at the other end of the phone who would want to hear mine. I realised that I did not want a man who would say “I like you” but instead would feel “I love her”. I wondered whether my life would always be a bargain, a deal struck between not seeing someone forever, or “officially dating” him. What had I settled for in life? Had I not waited for too long to be with someone because I wanted to find love, then to be satisfied with a “I like you a lot”. Aruni came to my mind, she who used to say that she wanted a man who would look at her and say “I want Aruni!” pointing at her! ( I may have not typed the exact words she states but the idea being she wanted a man who would want “her” and know what he wanted, and what he wanted inevitably being HER!)

I think of last year how life was. I think of this year, how life is. Things had not changed much. Days, months and faces keep coming and passing by. I continue to make believe that what I be in is what I deserve, but then wonder whether it is something more which is what I deserve.

In a few minutes life has changed. Things were all different and I was different. Screw all this Valentine’s shit, they never did me any good. And screw what is anything lesser than what I deserve, I waited for long, I am sure I deserve what it be I desire. Sure laugh at me for saying I believe in love, but then what the hell, I DO! So deal with it, if you don’t well I am sorry, I ain’t your cup of tea, nor are you mine! So what shall we do? We shift to coffee?!

Life is one long complication! A very long one!

I cannot change the course of things I forced upon me, let me not try to do that when my mind speaks vodka and lime, gin and tonic, or whatever the mixtures that I cannot dissect! Let me feel good thinking of those good moments I cherish with those who I love and that those flowers sent on Valentine’s day be worth it, not because I value the market based tradition, but because those I love would have a smile on their face and that should explain more than all the words I could type in!

And for Valentine’s diner, well though it ain’t the most important thing in the world, I know who I will be with, and I know I will as usual, have NO complains!

“Clueless”

10 Thursday Feb 2011

Posted by vositha in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

She had no clue what it be that was required of her to do. She was a lost creature and her brain was playing tricks on her. She had long given up on her heart. It always failed her, she did not see why this time be different.

She has long realised that “love” was not meant for her. She did not know how to love, nor did she know how to be loved. She knew only the endurance of torture and the infliction of torture. she inflicted it in all unawareness till she broke their souls and left them with bleeding and scarred hearts. There were moments of regret, on a rare occasion, but still there were some.

What could she say, apart from that being something vulnerable made her feel a little awkward and not “quite” herself.

She speaks of her parents, how they fight and the way they are all starry eyed the next moment. She tells him how they hold hands, still act like teenagers at times, despite their constant tantrums which they throw at each other.

He tells her that his house knows not of such, they do not express emotions. His mum hates him, he says. She does not believe it, adds that no mum hates her son. But he seems to be convinced otherwise.

She feels she understands him at certain moments. The way his hands crush the fingers while trying to express something, the way he acts in the most uncomfortable way, the fingers stiff and knotted up. She wishes at times he would find his peace, or whatever that he is looking for, which would bring him happiness.

He runs his fingers through her hair, for the first time noticing that it is naturally curly and that she had not done anything to it. The fingers straining to her cheek , she merely smiles, not moving, not knowing what be his reaction if she does. He just looks at her, says nothing, just his fingers on her skin, making their strokes. She liked his touch. It was gentle.

His hands were softer than she had imagined them to be, and his mannerisms much gentle for a creep. She would later tell him so. He clarifies that he is not a creep but a freak. She ignores the google search for the difference. Whatever he be, he would be the same for her. The guy who she had no clue of. She never knew where they be headed, what they meant to each other, his constant fear of hurting her, or getting himself hurt, his doubt of himself, or his presumption that she believes him to mess things up for both of them, all was a mere blur, a confusion she was not tempted enough to analyse.

There be only a sense of smoke that floats, the smell of trouble in the air. That sign of danger ahead, the hurt, the torture and the scarred hearts.

She does not want him to fall in love. Not with her.

And she is glad that he will not.

For Aruni!!

10 Thursday Feb 2011

Posted by vositha in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

There are some people in the world who just know how to make you feel better by just saying something nice at the worse moments. Aruni be one of them.

I was lucky to meet her 6 months back (I think), and she has on a daily basis, (on working days) filled my life with something interesting: a quote (“grow a dick!” being the most pronounced), a situation (panic attacks, and stressful moments in abundance), something awfully eccentric but still appreciated, or some silly laughter over something we alone would deem humorous.

My blog be filled with stories that at times Aruni would wish not published, when published insist I edit so as to not look “homophobic” and then those which are not published but she fears I would eventually publish! Her provision of “spiritual” and “karmic” updates, energy and what not, I have over the months grown to admire.

Above all she would turn those cards, tell me something positive in all situations, make me believe that something good will come in the worse moments, while making sure that I would not accept anything lesser than what I deem be worth it, and “whip” me into believing that I needs must follow my heart. (even though at most moments I am confused as to what my heart does say)

I have often told her how much I like her, but I am not sure if I have told her how much I appreciate her, especially for proclaiming her willingness to read a book that I am yet to write and even if I did, most likely never manage to publish ( but it does means a lot, when the writer herself knows that it would be a tough read, and Aruni willingly embarks on the torturous venture).

So here be a small thanks to someone who has been special and has been there whenever I needed. A person whose daily presence in my life I will miss in the months to come and from whose absence my writing would suffer.

It is not the 14th of February, and flowers are a little too expensive for me to afford, but as best stated by Kishani today, I just want to say “ YOU ARE APPRECIATED!” (immensely)

Hot Chocolate!

03 Thursday Feb 2011

Posted by vositha in Random Moments of Life

≈ Leave a comment

An early morning for me today, starting with a wake up SMS. Yes life in the world has changed so much that these days people do not call others to wake them up, instead they decide they will send a good morning and an offer for a coffee over an SMS. I was grateful that I was awake at that time, which is exceptionally unusual for me.

Then again it would have been fun to have the man wait for his coffee till 11 am which is normally the time I wake up. As amusing as it may have been, I decide to stick to being a lesser bitch these days. The key work in this venture be “try to”. Yes nothing like “trying”.

Thanking God for passing the innovative knowledge of getting ATM cards and debit cards to some wealthy soul who lived in the past, (my general knowledge on these people’s names ain’t the best) I rush out of the house with wet hair trailing behind me, ignoring the glares of my mother who seems to be sensing that something was not normal in her daughter’s system this morning.

“Where are you going?”

“To work! Where else!”

She looks impressed that I had woken up early to head to office at 8 am, but looks at my shorts and wonders if her daughter was right in her mind of late. But then again was it not time that she had realised that her daughter’s mind was never right! (I pity my parents at times for putting up with a daughter as I)

Anyway, no time to answer anymore tricky questions, “Pick me at 7.30!”, I run out to where a warm hot chocolate awaits me.

Sexual orientation? You tell me!

03 Thursday Feb 2011

Posted by vositha in Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

It is definitely high time people stop asking me stupid questions. I have only one explanation for those who ask me these questions, they just do not have much excitement in their miserable lives so are in dire need to spice them up with a little gossip and some assumptions on people’s sexual preferences.

However this obsession about MY sexuality is a little too hard to put up with. Not that they are thought provoking, they are simply and terribly irritating and kind of driving me up the wall!

I am not sure what these creatures of curiosity ponder prior to putting out questions like,

“Who is that?”

Answer: “ A friend!”

“A special friend?” (wink and a smirk to add some dramatic effect)

I would have found it normal if they were referring to and questioning me on the specialness of a male friend with the wink, which I think the community that I am surrounded with tend to be unable to ignore, but the perplex thoughts flow in when they are asking questions on my best friend who is actually a “girl”!

As much as I feel like laughing I am to stop myself as I strive hard not to send the wrong message to the party who is ever set for interrogation. My lame reaction, try to keep a straight face and pronounce, “yes a very special friend, my best friend!”

I doubt the satisfaction my response bestows upon these souls, but well what more am I to tell these folk? Let me think of an option, may be “sorry if I cause you any disappointment, but then what can I do, I am just NOT into women! Hope you are not too heartbroken!”

I am sure they would presume that it is a denial of my sexual orientation. So keeping that in mind I refrain and stay mum.

Resolution: Greet the next person who decides to make a wise crack on lesbianism with a very memorable contact of my right hand with his/her cheek!

Words don’t come easy!

03 Thursday Feb 2011

Posted by vositha in Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

I have not written anything for almost a week. May be more. Not due to the fact that I did not have much to type in but merely due to the fact that the inspiration be lacking. Puking for 5 days in a row makes one such. I presume that I would have puked my inspiration and the desire to express myself out of my system. This could be a cause for the best, or for the worse, whatever be it, I am sure many would have welcomed the silence on my part as a pleasant greeting from the “filthy mind”.

Anyhow having attended the writer’s workshop at the British Council it occurred to me that silence of mine was one step towards another writer’s block. A devastating syndrome I seem to suffer in between certain periods. Hence this entry, just as an indication that I am still alive, and one of these days, I might actually type in something that be worthy of being read.

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