HBTM!

I want to be cool. Like really really cool!

Wait!

I am TWENTY ONE!

Cool. Problem solved.

Pseudo-Modernist?

Tell me if what I think is what really is.
Because then, somehow,
I will find more reason to be.
My conscience is based
on culture
and my confidence,
well...

Oo! BTW, I am reading 'Midnight's Children' and I guess I an like Nadir, the rhymeless poet. Modernist or lack of talent?
Funny but something to think about. Which I will do. Wait till I graduate.

Freeze

Memories are treacherous,
allusive at will,
unrecallable at leisure.
I have experienced perfection,
and I am too scared
to surrender it to memory.
So, I try to give it words,
I give life's perfection
to Art.
Reality is not always kind,
and then turning
to Art
becomes a necessity.
It comes naturally
to define life
through Art.
Highest epiphanies of life
deserve a remembrance.
And that rememberance,
is through Art.

I am groping my vocabulary for words to describe how I feel right now. Maybe, now is not the time. Language too can be a bitch sometimes.

Yay!

Second year is over, and I don't feel like contemplating. Very unlike my usual self.

I am writing it here

I WANT TO COME FIRST! And I will!

Some Good, Some Bad

Here are some random things I wanna say:

* There is this one girl whose head i wanna rip off. Stupid SLUT, such a kiss ass. One day, I will show her her place. AND OMG, that day I will feel sooo happy!

* I am going to write for a Mag again! Yay!

* I will become passive in some situations. Bah!

* AND I WILL KICK SOME ASS THIS TIME DURING EXAMS.

Bah Part II

Two days back in class, I started to work on my story a bit. The class was thoroughly dull and I had promised myself that if I don’t pay attention in class or bunk; I will do something equally good in its place. Hence, I started to write. And then I came upon a point where I had to decide where my character dies. So, I did what I always do. I thought about the age when I would want to die. And this is where I got stuck. Damn. How is anyone supposed to know what time will be the right time to go away? Apart from people who take their own lives, others have no idea whatsoever. This is the worst kind of exam ever! And you can’t even prepare for it. And I hate being so stuck. Not so much about me dying but about my character. Yes, I love my story, thank you very much.

And then I thought, sadist that I am, that I will make my character indispensible to the people who love him/her/it before he/she/it goes. That way, it somehow becomes more tragic. But I am I making fun of death this way? Am I taking this fact very loosely, little realizing the magnitude of the situation? I don’t know. I am so confused. And now I am sad too. Damn it!