As I woke up today, I had this wonderful idea, or rather this perfectly planned blog entry that I'd like to put up on the internet. I lay in bed thinking for around 5-10 minutes, and once everything was in place, I got up, and began to type at break neck speed. Now I know its rude, not to go out and say your goodmornings, and brush your teeth and do the bed as soon as you wake up, but you cannot let an inspiration like that just get lost, because you had to follow some sad, boring daily routine. Anyway, as I opened Notepad, my mom walked in. My mom talks a lot (believe me), not the gossip-talk, just the normal talk-talk. So she began asking about stuff, here's mostly what the conversation went like:
(note: my mom loves to cook)
Me: (type type type type)
Mom:You woke up?
Me: (type stop) Yeah, goodmorning ma. (type type)
Mom: What will you have for breakfast?
Me: (type type stop again) Anything will do. (type type)
Mom: Fruit?
Me: (type type stop) Yea. (type type)
Mom: But bananas are over.
Me: (type type stop) (in shock, since bananas are my staple diet) Then what else is there? (type type)
Mom: Sweet lime?
Me: (type type stop) They're raw (type type stop) Mom, can I just finish typing something here, before I forget? It won't take long. (type type)
Mom: Ya ya, sure, but tell me what you'll eat, or when you're hungry, you'll start eating my brains.
Me: (type type stop) I'll eat anything mom, I'll think lil later. (type type)
Mom: You want soup?
Me: (type type stop) Yup, but no pepper or garlic. Too heaty. (type type)
Mom: But you won't like it without pepper and garlic, thats what gives it the taste .
Me: (type type stop again! argh!) Okay, put. (type type)
Mom: Then what else will you eat after that?
Me: (type type stop, sigh) Anything will do ma. (type type)
Mom: But you can't have soup all day!
Me: (type type stop) Yes I can! (type type)
Mom: No, you think and tell me now.
Me: (type type stop)
(can't think of anything beyond blog topic)
(takes mind off the topic and tries to concentrates on food)
(manages to remove topic completely from mind)
(realizes that topic is gone, erased, deleted from brain)
(damn!)
(mumbles to self angrily)
(gets up)
(goes and eats semi-raw sweet lime and watches TV)
~THE END~
Summer has razed my enthusiastic holiday spirit to the ground. I think it has had amusing effects on my groupmates as well, since everyone is being extra nice to me off late. Undoubtedly, they're suffering from fried brain syndrome.
My favorite "inspirational" best friend has stopped talking to me, without prior notice, or any showdown, which was much expected. She continues to stick to my best friends, which (sadly,) no longer effects me much. She also tried (in vain) to get the guys to accompany her to a super-cool disco in the city. Surprisingly, the offer was ignored by all, except the guy who will sell his soul to the devil for her. I haven't seen much of her in the past two weeks, which indicates, that I may live a normal hate free life from now on (which will be boring for all my faithful blog readers, since I won't be spewing hot molten magma all over the place).
I seem to have lost my "bad luck" charm somewhere, and I've moved heaven and earth looking for it, but as you see, I haven't found it yet. When I do, you'll will be the first to know (trust me).
A new girl has gained membership into our group, and she keeps the boys very happy. We shall not dive into any details as yet. So far, things have been going smoothly between us, lets hope for the best.
I have been recording random recordable conversations, since I finally have something that can record sounds without a persistent hissing in the background.
I haven't melted too much body fat, as planned earlier. I have tanned two shades darker. I have a big red pimple on my forehead, and my head hurts real bad.
I am planning on going on a protest against the atrocities of summer, but no one seems too keen on joining my little campaign.
I leave now, to fight heat, dust and find a new inspiration for my blog.
~ Njoy
Life is so annoyingly crappy at times, it makes me so sick that I feel like going out and killing someone’s cat. And when life begins to get slightly crappy, everything else that doesn’t need to contribute goes ahead and makes a million dollar donation to make it crappier!
I don’t know what crappy exactly means. Its some philosophy of something I made up in my head. My philosophies make sense to three people in this whole wide world; I, me and myself. Yes they are three people, three people the world gives a damn about and I love the most. I wasn’t a complete “me” freak since the time I was born. I was a nice little helpful butterfly, flitting around the place, being nice to people. At that time I actually believed that good things always happen to good people. Good things began happening to me only when I went rotten.
People come up with a million philosophies a year, I could come up with a million philosophies a second. The only difference is, that their philosophies make sense to 1/5th of the planet, and then, 1/5th of that 1/5th of the planet ends up including 1/9th of the influential part of the planet, and so that lucky fool ends up becoming rich overnight. On the other hand, 2/3rd of myself begins to contradict the 1/3rd of myself that came up with some philosophy. In short, my philosophies aren’t worth any pondering.
Now that I’m done with the introduction, and I’m sure you’ve managed to guess what state of mind I am in at the moment. I suppose I can start raving and ranting about how miserable my life is, and justify my becoming a serial killer in the future.
I read “Catcher in the Rye” the other day, I haven’t finished it yet, but it’s a good book. Its about this boy, Holden Caulfield who flunks in a hell lotta subjects (except for English) and gets kicked out of school. Instead of heading home like all good ducklings do, he decides to take a little tour around the city. The book is mostly about his journey and the people he meets along the way, but what caught my attention was this one word – “phony”. Holden hates phonies and keeps criticizing them whenever possible, but ends up dating one crappy female named Sally, who gets all sentimental over nonsense.
I remember this one time he tells her that she’s a pain in the ass and she begins to cry tank fulls (yeah tank fulls not bucket fulls. Man! Can she cry!) I’d have punched the guy in his nose, emptied a glass of milkshake on his head and stormed off. But she just cries. Duh!
Fake people with fake laughs and smile and care and concern make me sick to the last intestine. Guys aren’t too fake, well most guys I’ve met are too dumb to be fake. But girls! Oh my! I suppose we’re just born talented. We can make a vulture believe it’s a swan for goodness sake. We don’t usually do it, we do it when there’s a very good reason, say loads of gifts, expensive parties, bike rides, blah and blah and blah.
That explains why I never managed to get a guy in college. They loved the girls who’d make them feel like Tom Cruise or Ben Affleck or even Hritick Roshan. If I was a guy and someone called me Hritik Roshan, I’d burn her alive and get a plastic surgery done (on me ofcourse). But the guys really fell for that stuff. Infact, they still do. Like yesterday, I was out with my usual group, and my ultra glamorous friend shows up wearing ultra glamorous clothes and with her hair left so that she looks like some hot hotty, whatever that means, and the guys suddenly forget that I even existed. I’m not heart broken or anything, but their stupidity never fails to amaze (and amuse) me.
Beauty and brains never go hand in hand. Dumb girls are always gorgeous, and the sensible ones walk around looking like “behenjis” or half dead zombie like creatures, but there are a few exceptions, like Sushmita Sen. Now she’s all brain and a hell lotta beauty. But I’m not dumb, and I’m not an exception either, I’m on my way to the zombie look, but that may take a while. The major hurdle between me and the zombie look is parents. YES! Parents. My mom (like all other moms) wants me to look pretty in pink and lace and weird girlie dresses. My dad desperately wants me to wear salwars. And I wanna look half dead.
I have successfully managed to take another topic off track, and I’m feeling much better so my raving and ranting ends here.
In the end, I’d like to thank my glamorous friend for being such a bitch, and the guys of my group for being her motivation of bitchyness. I’d also like to thank L’Oreal for creating a wonderful haircolor so that she can show off. I’d like to thank my mom for making me wear weird clothes yesterday, God for bad weather and Microsoft Corporation for creating Microsoft Word so that I can write cranky stuff (with automatic spell check) till kingdom come. Hope your day goes better than mine. Ciao :)
