Ah, the misery of waking up in the morning with the realization that you are, in fact, a horrible person.

There's something to be said about having belief in oneself. I can't remember what that something is right now due to my severe altercation in self perception, but I remember from the fond memories of yester year (or yesterday actually) that this belief gives you the strength to voice opinions, to be yourself and to make everyday decisions. Now that you don't even know who you are, how can you know how you like your eggs?

Sometimes I wonder if I'm dead inside. I mean, there is a mechanism in there that has probably broken down and shut me off from all happy emotions. Nah, that sounds too melodramatic.

Maybe it's something else. I've never had this sort of intimacy with anyone before. Someone on whom I rely on so much. I don't even rely on my parents this much. Instead of being one of my closest friends, he's become the center of my world. And that's really really bad. I think it's destroying both of us. It needs to change.

I can't begin to say how sorry I am for unleashing this on you. I knew it would come out eventually, but I never realized it would be so bad. But it has to stop now, I promise. Not for you, but for me. It's taking me away from who I am.

I want to be the old me again.

how many times can a fuck up fuck before a fuck up does get fucked?

a fuck up would fuck up as much as he could so the fuck up will eventually get fucked.

So now I know that in a competition between me and ice cream, the ice cream would win.

In other news, there once was a thoughtful, pensive, brooding, and generally introverted coral. Who had a tenacity for stalking oysters. But sadly she couldn't.

Because she was a piece of rock stuck to the reef.

"Oh my god, I think I'm falling in love with you!"

*cue to swoon*

hourglass

a lot of things on my mind, a lot of random thoughts. i wish someone hadn't closed the word document where i was working on my amazingly fantastic short story, which i will now never continue because it was a one off thing that i unfortunately never saved. it was awesome though, about this whore and well maybe one day it'll come back.

time is running out. in life. in college. on my laptop battery. things will rush past really fast in the next few months, and it's hard to know you're going to be saying goodbye to some people, possibly not hearing their wiseass remarks for a long time. never cribbing about how broke we are as a communal of sorts ever again. never letting time pass us by slowly, watching the sun smolder, turning into the orange moon. sure, we'll get over it eventually. but there's just never enough time.

really really never enough time. this isn't the time to be profound and deep and meaningful. it's about appreciating what we have before it's gone. the hourglass is nearly empty. and just yesterday (was it really almost three years ago?) it seemed limitless.

leaving bites.

but the thought of you makes me really happy, for some odd reason

the first man in my life

I've known him for years and years. I know his mannerisms, I know when he's annoyed, when he's happy, when he's excited and what pisses him off. Throughout the years though, he's retained his mysteries. But let me explain a bit about the type of person he is, the amount that I know.

I'm sure he used to be a charmer, back in the day. He still is. The life of the party, the center of attention, everyone's best friend. That's him. Usually the peacemaker, always the one to put people in a merry mood. There's something about him that strangers find comfort in. His easy smile and jovial nature, maybe. That was him, at the top of his game.

Though he's the life of the party, at home he's a much different person. Exemplary of the perfect Gemini. As he crosses the threshold of his home, he sheds the social butterfly exterior and retreats into his mind, into himself to become a quiet, pensive and introspective man. Where outside, he used to crack a joke at a second, now he becomes easily peeved, allowing the weight of the world that rests on his shoulders to finally weigh him down.

Lately, I've begun to read him a little more. The years have started to run him down. He lives for others. He lives for his family, to make sure they're happy. He's gotten dogged down with his priorities that he's stopped looking inside to see what he wants. Now, it's like he's stopped living for himself. He used to live for others, but now those others have had to leave for the time being. And he feels stranded.

I wish you would explore. I wish you'd stretch out the wings of your own potential, because it's still there. The years don't show on your face, but lately they've started to claim a place. Yes, your hair is become white, yes your eyes are wrinkling a little more, and yes, your health is not what it once was. But you're still in there somewhere, the one who used to give me piggy back rides, who used to race me every morning before school started, who taught me how to make omelettes, who bought me my first guitar, who picked me up from my first dance. You were the first man in my life, and you are the one I aspire to be like. And even though we've been at odds with each other for many years, of course I love you - you're my father, after all.

Alright, it's not that some things are gone, it's not like they won't come back. But they're gone for the time being, and I wish they were back. In the meantime, though, I remember.

I remember the time you failingly tried to pick me up, so then I decided I could carry you piggy back style. I took two steps and ended up dumping you on my bed.

I remember the awesome blue cave we made out of my blanket.

I remember flying kisses from the elevator.

I remember awesome coffee and pretty decent french toast and Tangled and you and me.

I remember trying to trip you up, and way too many "oh look what's that? *whack!*" moments.

I remember Bob and Jack and Mugsy and Moot and Sam. I swear, I remember them all.

I remember all the chocolates, and I still have one last sea shell. And the bamboo flower. And that first wine bottle.

I remember how it feels when you come and hug me from behind, and then when we end up doing the funny penguin walk.

I remember Kamal Momos and Sams Cafe and crazy eyes and peacocks at Hauz Khas.

I remember escaping my maid.

I remember when you had to walk around with a pink clip in your hair. Yeah, I know I still owe you for that.

I remember that day at the playground, where we sat and talked about the strangest things.

I remember today, when you kissed my hand through your oxygen mask. Of course I'll still be here, no matter what condition you're in.