Bitch, Someone?

Thank You, but no Thanks

I’m not here to convince you

Why I am the girl who you ought to

Watch with your indecent amusement

Your patronising lilt is not funny

I’m not here for your social reputation

And up yours with your money!

So what then?

I ‘m a bitch?

Because I will not fall in line

As you whistle and stand aside

In usual expectation

Oh well, welcome to a random deviation

Because if sticking up for what I believe   

And in trying to retrieve

My natural dignity

From your rubbished superiority complexes

Is being a little wily bitch

Oh such a boring cliché!

Your’re hating my tantrums with a vengeance

How you wish I would lower my eyes?

And tremble when you threaten consequences

Because I’m a natural when it comes to defy?

Your man made rules

How superficial!

You’re totally unreasonable in your demands

Bursting at your seams

What an infantile ego perched on the grand stand!

Mocking at my unshaved legs

Raising eye brows at my carefree gait

So surly because I also have needs

And not because I’m here just to please?!

I’ll be needing some artificial resuscitation

Because I’m fainting with despise

I can point you the door just right now

Because I’m not willing to pay the price

To tend to your giddy insecurities

I’m willing to wait for a real man

Meanwhile I’m busy not giving a damn

As you spit the venomous cliché

What a bitch! What a bitch!

So maybe I am bitch because I dare

Also because I openly care

For my friends even when they’re different

Openly flaunting my heart

And discovering my natural skill

At making most human mistakes

Such a bitch because I have the art

To ravish every natural temptation;

Scoring alpha in bitchiness quotient

With a loud mouth

Not even afraid to swear;

And perseverant to the point of madness

Bitch in being doggedly smart

You’ll be such a man if you’ll grudgingly accept

Being a perfect bitch is such an art

Ahoy! So what’s up with the cliché?

Masterminding my own business

I’m gonna just get by

Being who I am if it equals

In your world as being a bitch

Then worry for your world

Cause the bitches will arrive

With their warheads worn as labels

Premonition, did you have?

The warhead is code named Bitch

Such a cliché! Such a cliché!

Classic Me.

Someone just tried presenting me their observation of the ‘classic me’.

Nice try but it reminds me of the proverbial fool. Mostly because I am not fooled.

Peace talking, shoddy-sticky-gum-sweet-love songs singing, delusional excesses in verbal over familiarizing; giggling-feminine-nasal-preening-vomit-inducing-faux hysterics ain’t me.

Imbecile sweetness, naiveté, foolishly hopeful - someone’s sunshine, someone’s sushi, some mediocre nobody’s attempt to please - aint me.

Make believe innocent girlish charms, hallmark variety of gooey love verses, non ambivalence, no sense of danger, lack of sheer, indecent arrogance - aint me.

And I am grateful for it. 

And I need to thank so much for this.

Thank you Terror

Thank you Disillusionment

Thank you Fragility

Thank you Consequence

Thank you, thank you Silence

Thank you Clarity

Thank you Providence

Thank you Hysteria

Thank you Obsession

Thank you, thank you Silence

Thank you Self deprecation

Thank you Eternity

Thank you Malice

Thank you Hunger

Thank you, thank you Silence

Thank you Jealousy

Thank you Loneliness

Thank you Confusion

Thank you Madness

Thank you, thank you Silence

Thank you Obsession

Thank you Appreciation

Thank you Sadness

Thank you Enigma

Thank you, thank you Silence

Thank you Lunacy

Thank you Emptiness

Thank you Heartbreaks

Thank you Hurtfulness

Thank you, thank you Silence

Thank you Arrogance

Thank you Contempt

Thank you Vanity

Thank you Purity

Thank you, thank you Silence

Thank you Charisma

Thank you Perdition

Thank you Betrayal

Thank you Monstrosities

Thank you, thank you Silence

Thank you Atrocities

Thank you Hero worship

Thank you Banality

Thank you Nothingness

Thank you, thank you Silence

Thank you Excesses

Thank you Perversity

Thank you Depravity

Thank you Gullibility

Thank you, thank you Silence

Thank you Intemperance

Thank you Guilt

Thank you Violence

Thank you Sincerity

Thank you, thank you Silence

Thank you Anger

Thank you Danger

Thank you Insincerity

Thank you Adoration

Thank you, thank you Silence

Thank you Divinity

Thank you Decadence

Thank you Profanity

Thank you Mercy

Thank you, thank you Silence

Thank you Familiarity

Thank you Serenity

Thank you Shame

Thank you Dalliance

Thank you, thank you Silence

Thank you Desolation

Thank you Abandonment

Thank you Frivolity

Thank you Dignity

Thank you, thank you Silence

Thank you Preoccupation

Thank you Viciousness

Thank you Hope

Thank you Hopelessness

Thank you, thank you Silence

Thank you Knowledge

Thank you Perception

Thank you Caution

Thank you Ignorance

Thank you, thank you Silence

Thank you Commitment

Thank you Bohemia

Thank you Detachment

Thank you Entanglement

Thank you, thank you Silence

Thank you Provocation

Thank you Peace

Thank you War

Thank you Change

Thank you, thank you Silence

‘That’ is ‘Classic Me.’ :) 

*Not to mention, thank you, thank you Alanis Morissette

Walking around in circles

Yea. So I quit the gym. Now I don't go to the gym anymore. I go to a park. I walk there. And its doing me world of good than going to that gym where I hated every minute of inhaling the pungent smell of sweat profusely covered up in sweet, sickening aroma of some synthetic room freshener.

Synthetic - is the operative word here.  Lack of organic.

I'm by nature a person very prone to various levels of claustrophobic that can heighten directly in proportion to how close I am to people I neither like or care about.

I hated the gym with every ounce of my being. I hated the sense of being intimately close to people - rushing ceaselessly on unmoving machines stacked up together. I hated how people made the unnerving small talk there. I hated the ghastly loud music that managed to disturb me more than relax me.

I hated it all. And what I hated the most was the rush. The rush to burn off calories, the constant monitoring - mostly self. I hated the repetitive sense of being somewhere that was making me nervous - pushing me. I hated the feel of slippery metal that had been in a very recent past grabbed at by hands I didn't wish to make any contact with.

So I simply quit. Against prevalent wisdom, I just did.


Now I go to a park. Its a nice park. It has a joggers track. And it has lots of green: foliage, shrubbery, trees, leaves and grass. I like the green.

I like walking in the park even though there are a lot of people around at all times. But these people don't make me uncomfortable. I can co-exist with them in the park at any given point of time.

The park is very different from the gym. Because the people in the park are different from the people I had to come in contact with at the gym.

The people in my park aren't in a rush. They just are. Like people, they are all around but they don't bear down on me. I can feel the sense of motion but its not bludgeoning. And there is a lack of proximity. No one comes close enough for me to want to back off in a corner and carve a hole through it to escape.

I see the people in park as forms. Forms that move. I don't stare at them too closely. I never pay attention to what they are doing. They don't give me the sense of heaving motion.

The people in my park don't race in countdowns of calories. They're in the park - just like me - being.

I love how there is so much green in the park. In the evening huge floodlights lighten the dark corners. But I love the dark corners anyway. They don't scare me.

I love the snaking, rebellious foliage, and the way it carves a way for itself everywhere. I love the huge trees tops that sit like a canopy of wilderness mounting my favorite dark corners. Right about the time of sunset, sunlight filters through these trees tops and falls through in beams creating flitting shadows on the ground.

If you stop what you're doing and look closely, you can see little shrubs shiver slightly in the cool fresh air and the shadows shiver with them too.

Even though I'm wearing my running shoes, I love the soft, squishy feel of the grass in the wet spots.  I like how I can kick up dust in places where the ground is tougher and grass is weakened.

What I love most about the park is that I can walk around in circles - huge big circles, all around the park - around a center - walking in circles is something of a comfort zone for me, metaphorically. Now when I do that in the park, as well, I only feel - comforted.

I'm just so glad I quit the gym - and went back to what I love most - organic.

I feel good. Much better. Thank you.

xoxo

Talking - to the girl in the mirror

Hi Lookalike,

This is what we're NOT going to do.

--> Post old, much much previously written crap here. Sure, we both know, we were good. We were almost - *very* - good. But that's in the past, isn't it?

Now both you and I know, that we don't know. No nothing. If you can handle the joke: we're more barren than frickin' Sahara and we're getting stronger :)

So, this is what we ARE going to do.

--> We will begin with no sense. We'll just make sure we write it down. Because 'no sense' can last for only so long. Sooner than later the-no-sense will make some sense. And then maybe we can begin with putting ourselves back together.

So let's do it. You keep staring back at me through the mirror and I will keep avoiding you. But what we both know is that sometime, at some point in all this randomness - a weak, but reliable pattern will emerge.


Till such time - aimlessness is us. And we're okay.

10 Things

1. This blog may - oh fuck it - it *will* be replete with profanity. (Now's the time you get to throw a fit and mount your moral high horse, and... vamoose!)

2. If you're someone I don't like, you'll probably find your mention here somewhere. Can't promise if you'll be the same after that. But having know me, you must know, I'm simply *unable* to care.

3. I'm presently suffering from *Writer's Alzheimer's*. I used to write. And I was pretty darned good at it. And then I forgot it all.

These are *baby* steps. Please don't have me turn on the: *Pedophile alarm*!

4. I'm ok if you hate something, anything I write here. As long as *I* like you, it doesn't matter.

Please, please do !

5. I'm going to exert a lot of self control - and believe me that's what I am going to do. I will restrain myself from posting whacky pictures, nutty oneliners and 'S, said it!' quotations. That's what Facebook and Tumblr are for.

And when I do that - act like we've all won a prize. YOU WILL DO THAT if you care for me to get better. If not, WHO the hell are you, and WHY are you here anyway?!

6. I'm constantly in a bad mood. If you're happy-content-suffused-with-joy in anyway - I have a back door.

7. Bad poetry psyches me out. It's a bitch, I know. But it's *my* bitch.

8. I love an occasional blood bath. Blood-bath-lovers, invited !

9. If you wish to team up with me here for any sort of writing/collab, you're welcome :)

10. Random. *insert any rules of law @ a later point of time, expletive inclusive*