Hellogoodbye.

I'm bored.

New blog:
http://www.brakingjuggernaut.blogspot.com/

See you there. I hope.
x)

Brandon Boyd is ridiculously appealing.

What?
He is!

Anyway.
I have decided to put to rest rumours about my apparent death by typing off one of those inconsequential, meaningless blog entries about my inconsequential, meaningless life. I hope this assuages all your fears, especially whoever it is that has been mailing every alternate day to enquire about my health?!

I'm flattered and everything, but really, guardedsk8r144, it's suffocating.


So.. hi.

Well, my exams are approaching (yet again) and I haven't opened my books (yet again).
I'm actually terrified I might flunk something.

Like Hindi, for example. Which, apparently, has progressed so quickly, that I have been left far, far behind with my half baked knowledge of bloody French.

Or maybe I'm just dull, so I forget stuff fast.

Case in point: national languages.


The good thing about study leave, though, is that it leaves you with a sudden, unexpected sort of freedom to do whatever you like - i.e. if you manage to mute that obscenely annoying voice at the back of your head which keeps reminding you of idiotic things like responsibility towards education, etc.

The bad thing is, in my case, that freedom translates to plenty of contemplation time.

And this week's theme for consideration has been rather sleep - snatching and overall misery inducing.

Which brings me to another point.

It seems that the days of simplicity have long kicked the bucket.

It’s almost as if things have to appear convoluted and difficult to understand to pique our erratic interest – Like if it isn’t worth complaining about, it isn’t worth dealing with or something.

Seriously.


Have we become so cynical and contemptuous of contentment that we purposely clutter our lives, just so that we have something to carp about?

Is it merely boredom that is leading us into this quagmire of endless self created, frivolous complexities?

Or could it possibly be that the idea of cynicism itself has been so greatly romanticized over the years that with every step traversed, we find ourselves curbing our optimism for fear of becoming outdated?

Somewhere in between misanthropes and romantics, is firmly lodged the mother of all identity crises – the faction of the ‘Neo – Cynic’.

Ever tried walking in the dark?

Blindfolded?

Neither have I, but I imagine that this is close to what that must feel like.

I also think that perhaps it is time to stop the sardonic whining and actually open up a text book.
It keeps slipping my mind that they weren’t purchased merely for their ornamental significance.

Or maybe I should just try to get some sleep, it's almost 1 am.

Good grief, I've become one of those people who spouts on openly about their lives in public.
What next?
Gossip Girl references?

*Clutter*

Ahem.
Bye.

Featherweight.

You know those days when you feel like... breaking things?

Everything?

I'm just saying it's too bad houses aren't made of glass.

Wordless. Literally.

I can't write.
That's that.
I'm sorry.
I give up.

I tried, I really did.
But it won't happen.
Blame it on the flu or the Government or whatever.

Goodbye mes amigos preciosa(s).
I will attempt to be back soon and violate other foreign languages by my poor knowledge of their technicalities.

Sigh.

The Whoosh Effect

A/N: The title of this post is dedicated to the millions (yeah, right) who sacrificed their lives in the endless pursuit of the art of perfect prop work. R.I.P.

We run this. We run this. We run this.
Wo-o-oah.

This is probably the first time in the history of this blog that there is a lyric from a hiphop song.
Blame it on street dance. Three days later and I've still got Missy freaking Elliot stuck in my head.
I've said it before; Malhar will do strange things to you.

And so it has finally come to an end. I know this because the people involved are now able to see things clearly without a thick haze of sleep and/or tension overpowering their tired brains.
I'm still trying to figure out, if or not this is a positive thing.

The thing about having so much clarity, is that it leaves you alot of time to think generally and ponder in particular.
And a thing like Malhar leaves much to ponder about.
Which is also currently under the scanner over it's positivity.

Malhar can be best described as an all consuming entity that eats away into every particle of every aspect of your otherwise dreary life. Which is exactly what it did.
It is fortunate for people like me, who have no other social life, but I bask in endless pity for those that do, and had Malhar defenestrate it.

Now this post is beginning to sound like an essay.

Insomnia and exhaustion do not make for a good combination.

My limited syntax does not allow me to express exactly what I feel about what transpired over the last few days. Nor does decency; the language threatens to spill over to the unacceptable if I start about the fair-unfair bit.

They won? Yes.
We lost? Hell no.

Go Jai Hind. :D
And go K-Scope. xD

Special mentions: Namasvi and Parizad. My wonderful, tireless (*cough*) LA people. 2 events is still not THAT bad. Look at it this way, we placed in everything that we qualified in. *Lightning bolt called Word Games strikes*.
... *ahem*.

Yeah, bye.

How to Disappear Completely.

Sitting here in the yawning abyss of uncertainty,
Between the frozen fields of disparity,
I know not if it is my mind that betrays me;
Or I who betray my mind.

Stayin' Alive.

Sick, derisive fantasies
Pick their way through your
Skull
To your already overflowing
Brain.

The better sensed part of you
Tells you to
Stop.
But you don’t stop.
You can’t
Stop.

In the
Rundown, broken
House of your thoughts,
This is the corner in which you finally find
Peace.

This is your salvation.
This is your safety box.

This is a lie.

But at least you’re happy.
At least you’re hopeful.
At least you’re
Laughing.

Bless these thrills, they rest on grains of sand.
So live them up,
While the wind is still.

Goodbye, dismal light.
Hello, dim Utopia.