Blocks: Writing

Writing for pleasure is coded language forI’m into BDSM“.

There is a lot of joy and happiness when you see a finished piece is a big fat lie, an orgasm lasts longer than that fleeting moment of joy. I’m proud of my work that has been published but I always want to do better or I see a possibility of how it could have been better. I haven’t wanted to write in the last month or so and it has been nice. There was a huge weight taken of me, this probably is the most relaxed I’ve been in the last three years.

PC: Sad Dareen

But now that this blissful ignorance has passed a month and has turned into a little fear in the corner of mental thinking space and has started collected to go full judgement day on soon and I’m defenceless.

This blissful month wasn’t fear-free all the way, there were moments of pain, anguish and desperation to write anything. I gave and wrote a line or a sentence and sounded like a bag of shit and I didn’t try writing again.

Vague memories of travel are moments of liberation. ©Vinay

I remember comparing myself to Justin Bieber, he’s 10 days younger than me and has gained the fame and fortune that I’ve wanted since the age of 9. I wasn’t exceptionally talented, I had fairly good oratory skills and a knack to write funny or impressive stuff compared to my group of peers which impressed very few people, if nobody. So the possibility never died in my head and still seems to survive somewhere deep.

Screw JB, I just want to get my degree without having to do a Sirsasana and this is when I regret bunking Yoga classes in Jain College, maybe it would have come handy. The biggest fear I’ve been nursing like my first born is of losing everything. It’s easy to say everything and not mean much, but there is a possibility of losing everything and it’s only growing stronger with every fleeting second.

Flowers, books, and incense used to be therapeutic. ©Vinay

My laptop had a bad case of the virus and I lost all the digital data I’d acquired over the last three years. I had a lot of ups and downs in recovering the data and I couldn’t carry my heavy heart anymore and decided to cry; but not a single tear drop escaped my eye. We read narrative reporting in class and the piercing coldness hit so hard it was impossible to hold back my tears.

I’m on the edge, all the freaking time and its better I take things slow rather than trying to juggle too many things because if I blow up, it ain’t going to be a pretty sight. The pain won’t go away, but I can stop acting like a pin-cushion.

Emotional numbness, disregard, contempt, hatred are growing in my heart and I don’t want to uproot them. I don’t want to talk to people, there are a few I want to talk to but a minute or two into the conversation and I want to run. There isn’t anything I believe in, pessimism is my constant state of being and the height to which I don’t care has reached peak. It’s impossible for me to do anything else on daily basis, efforts I put to get through the day are draining me of my, everything. Exhaustion has left me paralysed and with bare minimum.

Monsoon rains

I wanted to write about nothing and I just sat on the end of my bed looking outside the window, holding my phone to type… It started to rain and my mother wanted me to park the scooters inside the gate, where they wouldn’t get wet.
I put down my mug of black tea and walked out with the keys. I still didn’t get the tea right, it wasn’t bitter this time but I still couldn’t taste the two spoon of honey.
I decided to ride till the end of the road before parking the scooter back inside. It was the second time it rained today and I had no complaints.
The smell of rain, grey clouds and the wind brought back memories. Memories of all the monsoons I’ve loved and hated, tears the rain has washed, people I’ve watched the rain with, bike rides in rain, blue eyes, beautiful hair and warm hugs.

Attention Seeking

I just want attention.”
I thought it would feel different, to say it out loud. I was hoping I’d have an epiphany and all my problems would go away with a “puff” (sound). I just had to say the words and Magic, “voilà” its all gone.
I realised that there was a problem and tackled it in a way that wouldn’t physically harm people around me and or even myself (Jump from one person to another and don’t get attached or emotional). But my friend pointed it out that in the process I was hurting myself on the inside and I’d tip myself over considering how vulnerable I am, it annoyed me. But I didn’t understand why.
A lot of things were said, it hurt a lot and I wanted leave then, because my eyes got moist. But something told me to stay and I listened to it, I heard everything he said. I processed it, “you don’t have to act cool with us, we know you aren’t”, laughs and “we also are not cool”, he said as the cigarettes he smoked crossed my face and I continued to dodged the smoke. A hard save, but not good enough to get away from the smoke.
“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you have to. It might seem like a nice thing but its going to hurt you.” A small exchange of nods, she tells him to stop and he dives in for a save with, “You are in a delicate place, and stress on any side can break you.”
The pungent beer was up my nose, she made eye contact and he abruptly but smartly ended it and moved on toba topic.
Her, “I told You all that, your reaction was ‘wow’, X had more to say about it than you. And you complained that I’m replacing you with x.”
“Some people have real problems. And you crib about little things.” He was now telling me my problems were smaller than other people’s problems.
Him, “slow down on the cigarettes, how many are you going to smoke.”
Her, “you know sometimes I come to college just to smoke…”
Conversation about where he asked I bought her, I say same place I bought him and that atleast she was worth the money even if she was more expensive than him.
*laughs, smiles, Stares, glances and hums*
*beer sipping, cigarette puffing and munching on cheesey fries*
I sat there quietly, let the tears burn inside and a few minutes later I was in a better mood and asked him to complete his thought, because I wanted to hear it.
The conversation furthured and she asked, “what do you want to hear or know ? It shouldn’t matter what he says, its his opinion and didn’t you tell me you want friends who’d be honest with you and not keep things from you?”
Him,”tell me what you want me to say ? Should I tell you, your awesome? That you are very cool ? Is that it ? Will that help you feel better?”
All this went down when I told him,”say it. You’ve got me all figured out and know me the best. Go on, tell me yoor opinion.” He says it was an observation from what I’ve said and he’s seen. Somehow he picks a fight and does he not see how much distress he’s causing?
Or am I just a terrible person?
He’s angry that I dislike people. I don’t like people, he gets to hear about it because he asks. All he has to do is not ask and that’s the end.
I don’t hate him or her, I love her. She’s the best thing that happened to me when I was in the worst place or time of my life. He is one of the few guys I don’t feel like I’m tolerating, I actually like him.
I know these relationships may not last forever. I’ve spoken about it with both of them and decided to enjoy the present with them and not worry about a future I have no control over.