You know what I really really hate. Whiners. I fucking hate whiners. And you know what I hate more than whiners, whiners who have nothing to whine about. And I also hate self-involved super sensitive people who love to discuss their problems, and whatever you tell them they always have a bigger and a more depressing incident to recount. Maybe it pisses me off more because I only crib to myself, or to the mirror and don't see the point of boring people with all that is wrong with my life. If you have any degree of common sense, you would know that no one really gives a shit and most people really want you to hurry up so that they can purge their sad events later. And I'm not talking of bad people, these are traits of nice normal healthy people who all of us know and meet everyday. So let's say that I've taken a lot of shit from my friends. And of every kind. Because even though I've had perennial issues with getting along with most, once I warm up to you, I feel guilty if I don't listen to you recount stories about heart-break over a guy you've met twice, or about how you've been partying four days straight but life is so complicated and difficult for you since you wanted to be a fashion designer after all. Now I may smirk inwards, or mentally pull my hair out, or hold back tears from my voice or my eyes from the phone because something way more serious and crushing happened to me 2 minutes back, I will still hear everything you say and try to cheer you up. There isn't even any reason for me not to tell you my shit, But I just can't! So I will proceed to hear your drone, give you advice, support, fake some smiley sound, and throw around pillows in frustration after that. Why do I do all this lame stuff. I'm so used to it that now the whole 'venting out' process makes me feel naked in front of someone else. I just can't open up like that. But this year has been particularly bad. No wait this year has stank and I know that it's going to get worse. But breaking my self-imposed silence is not going to happen, because few people have guilt issues like I do, or have the ability to make out when your friends need help. I don't know if I'm with the wrong people, I don't know what it is. But now I feel like making a check-list of all that has already gone wrong this year so that I earn the right to whine. Yes, in my world, you need to back up your misery as well.
1. Hmm. Something's that's never happened before which is best not mentioned here.
2. 17 years of education, and I flunked a paper for the first time
3. It's halfway down the year, and I'm still not gainfully employed.
4. I'm living at home. Everyone I know has extended life to cities with no parents.
5. I get constant calls from people I want to avoid who insist on recounting how much fun they all are having. It makes me sick
6. I've lost my camera. Have had it for 4 years now. Not just that, have been losing something or other that's vitally important every other week. Which is bizarre since I have photographic memory and this kind of stuff never happens with me.
7. Final semester, and all the fools in college have scored more than me. Even though I busted my ass and never cheated. I know it fucking makes me sound like a baby who never cheats in exams but I'm so fucking pissed right now that I don't give a shit about how I sound. All that stupid shit about hard work paying off is all bullshit, other things do the job very nicely. And it's crazy how this type who never worked to deserve those grades will proudly or modestly announce them to you. Either way, I have no respect you and it makes me want to curl up in bed for a week.
8. I'm secretly and slowly realizing that maybe I'm not as smart as I thought. THAT IS SCARY SHIT.
Hm. That's all I can remember right now. I hate this year, I hope it gets lost fast. Hopefully with less assholes who feel sorry for themselves calling me up as well. Man this year, if I can survive and help myself without going incognito, it'll be a miracle.
Thursday, June 25
Monday, June 15
Do watch Revolutionary Road if you want to swim in the unhappiness that is life. Apart from the fact that leonardo dicaprio has to be the most endearing thing when he's crying, you just feel like dumping all your craziness and try being a good woman again, the movie really is about Kate Winslet. Or it's not about both of them at all, it's about the story, and the original book that I hope to catch on to soon.
It is definitely not cinematic brilliance, but I don't see how any young person stuck in the corporate mess cannot sink lower while watching this one. It's got everything we all talk about, Paris is the place to be, we will not be the ones to settle down in urban suburbia, planning for a house and kids, then a bigger house and kids. No we will travel and see the world, kids won't tie us down. Because of course, we tried alternate careers when we were younger, she even tried to be an actress. There were things we did to genuinely feel alive, and laughed at that guy who'll go to work at 8 am every morning and so complains of the noise we can't hear.
We all think endlessly of this dream because we all consider ourselves special. Different. Other than the rest, who will not lose themselves in the larger scheme of the world and keep idealism within touching distance. We had progressive political thought, had an opinion on everything, we will surely do something other than just be.
It's all fine till you have time. Because yes, it's on the cards we are going to break away and do something else. We will 'feel' what we are doing all over again. But it's all a lie, isn't it? Because most of us were born simply to forget that phase at one point. Or to really put it at the back-burner and refer to it in drunken conversations with college friends. Because none of us are fucking special. We all are alike, except with some minor changes, the Constitution drafters were not writing it all for nothing. Most accept it and move on, money is the best balm. But there are some who never stopped dreaming or planning for the big escape, it's so real that they can see it. And they can't make peace with the alternate reality. That's when you lose your mind. And those are ones who are freaky, psychotic, insane. That movie is fucking scary.
It is definitely not cinematic brilliance, but I don't see how any young person stuck in the corporate mess cannot sink lower while watching this one. It's got everything we all talk about, Paris is the place to be, we will not be the ones to settle down in urban suburbia, planning for a house and kids, then a bigger house and kids. No we will travel and see the world, kids won't tie us down. Because of course, we tried alternate careers when we were younger, she even tried to be an actress. There were things we did to genuinely feel alive, and laughed at that guy who'll go to work at 8 am every morning and so complains of the noise we can't hear.
We all think endlessly of this dream because we all consider ourselves special. Different. Other than the rest, who will not lose themselves in the larger scheme of the world and keep idealism within touching distance. We had progressive political thought, had an opinion on everything, we will surely do something other than just be.
It's all fine till you have time. Because yes, it's on the cards we are going to break away and do something else. We will 'feel' what we are doing all over again. But it's all a lie, isn't it? Because most of us were born simply to forget that phase at one point. Or to really put it at the back-burner and refer to it in drunken conversations with college friends. Because none of us are fucking special. We all are alike, except with some minor changes, the Constitution drafters were not writing it all for nothing. Most accept it and move on, money is the best balm. But there are some who never stopped dreaming or planning for the big escape, it's so real that they can see it. And they can't make peace with the alternate reality. That's when you lose your mind. And those are ones who are freaky, psychotic, insane. That movie is fucking scary.
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