I know I’ve lost everything before I even begin.
But now, I begin anyway.
Because, there is nothing more to lose.
nothing more to fear.

I know something is wrong.
I feel broken somewhere.
But now the pain seems familiar.

Weird fantasies float around in my dreamy head.
And I make no attempt for them to make any sense.
Things like that help.
They help to forget that it’s hurting somewhere.

My misplaced confidence gives absolutely no hint of my inner turmoil.
My youthful steps have finally returned.
And I see my head go up as I walk through the doors.
That seems a lot like myself.

The child who was once afraid of the dark is fighting big demons now.
And doin’ it pretty well this time…

Pretty enough?

Finally have learnt to make myself presentable.
Or I should say that,
Learnt the art of selling myself to the world.

And it feels good to look beautiful..

I am not ashamed to admit that a stamp of approval do flatters me.

But it’s a little weird to see how easily I am submitting to these ridiculous standards of beauty.

That’s not exactly the pleasure I have always wanted.

I don’t enjoy living in a world where you can never feel pretty enough..

If given a chance,
I would surely like to crawl into a different universe.

A universe with a little better standards of beauty.

A world where I won’t have to take part in this mutually orchestrated dance for admiration..

Versatile Blogger Award.

Mr. Devereaux Frazier
I shouldn’t be telling you this.
But being the honest kid that I am😂
I am letting you know that
By nominating me,
You just made me realise that I am not as stupid as I believe myself to be.!

Someone actually appreciates my crazy drama bullshit is a nice thing to know.

So, Thankyou😊

  • Bloggers whom i would like to nominate are:











  • 7 facts about me:

1. I love to laugh.

2. I am something which you call ignorantly selfish.

3. Being shameless is the best quality I currently possess.

4. There isn’t anything back there where my brain should be.

5. People say that I apologize too much, which I believe is true.

6. In case of romantic aspirations,
I still am an overinfatuated idiot.

7. Although I am horribly scared of my Physics teacher,
But I am slightly fascinated by quantum physics and possibility of parallel universes.

That’s all.

The guy I never fell for.

Making friendships is just another thing I suck at.
But he was a little more than just an acquaintance.

My most frequent benchmate.
And I would never have preferred sitting with anyone else.
Not because I liked him, but because he was funny. And I loved to laugh.

I studied with him for about two years.
And for about 1.5 years, I failed to notice that he wore glasses.
That doesn’t mean he is smart!!
( in his own terms.)

He had what you call the spark of life..

Most attentive to the female alarm,
Highly abusive and widely hated by the entire class.

An explosion of peculiar creativity
with all sort of fantasies running through his dirty mind.

He was the most dignified motherfucker I’ve ever seen.

He was no way better or worse than others.
He just accepted those things proudly which others also do but never dare to admit.
(Need I elaborate?)

He embraced idiocy,
never watched his (filthy) mouth,
carried a conduct which only his conscience prompted
and never craved for anyone’s validation.

He used to call himself the Donald Trump of our class.

He told amusing stories
in which the joke was often on himself.

And during our truth and dare games,
He posed questions that were traps for you to fall into.

The kind of entertainment he used to serve was definitely not entertaining.

And when he used to talk about love,
He sounded both foolish and serious at the same time.

That was his way.

I heard weird stories about him.
But never bothered to enquire about their authenticity.

And since I am not much acquainted with his sentiments,
It might be possible that he actually did the things I can never believe he did.

But from him I learnt to be thick skinned and not giving a fuck about others.

In his own terms, he is a sexy pervert.
But with the right eyes, he is much more.

In his perfect indifference, he looked sort of vacant.
But beyond that, I have no details.

Maybe I am glorifying someone whom I should resent.
But if that is the case,
Then I don’t want to see him for what he is.
If he is really bad, then I don’t want it so real.

Life is a farce!

That was the prompt I was given.
I just googled what it means.

And according to all the definitions supplied,
I can sum up that
It is a humorous play where the characters are involved/exploited in weird situations to entertain the audience.

And I thought: “Isn’t that the exact shit we call life here?”
Except that the joke is on us
and we still don’t know whom we are entertaining.


Preparing to die.

Fingers crossed.
Awaiting my boards results.

And unlike my previous write-ups,
this time, I do give a fuck.
(Marks, being the only noble pursuit over here, I have to.)

And in complete accordance with Mr. John Green,
“I am not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things.”
And the truth is that I am gonn’a be fucked.

Although I’ll pass, but not very decently as I always used to.
My assurance about certainly not failing has been a relief to my parents.
But that won’t reduce the disgrace their former star child will fetch them by passing with poor marks.

My papa recently told me-
“I always expected this from your brother, but never from you.”
And I said – “Neither did I.”

It was just two years ago that I was struck by this hurricane of complex algebra, integration, isomerism, rotational dynamics, uncertainty principle and general organic chemistry, which was certainly not general.
And at all this, I just sucked.

I almost lost my power of imagination after imagining those imaginary gaussian surfaces.

And I am brave/shameless enough to tell you that the most valuable skill I learnt in my physics class was to sleep with my eyes open.

I certainly lacked the talent which many people possess called-
Realising the gravity of the situation.

I never realised the enormity of what was happening in those Physics, Chemistry, Maths and CS classes.

English literature was the only thing I cared about and found worth reading.

The other factors/people which actually are somewhere slightly responsible for this devastation,
can actually not be held responsible.
Because ultimately, I was the one who allowed them to fuck me up.
Therefore, I won’t put it as a great sounding excuse.

I am sure my results will bring an explosion of gloominess.
And I may not be allowed to continue blogging for a few days.

My papa, whose eyes I’ll fear to meet
will not be too harsh on me.
But I can’t say the same about my mom.
In her divine care, my misery is certain.

Few relatives will be sincerely grieved
and others will be secretly enormously happy.

I may perhaps end up in a pool of shit
Which I damn well deserve.

I am not gonn’a brag about my love for literature and all this being a life-changing experience.

I am determined to right my wrongs now.

I’ll try to be more practical,
But that certainly will never mean doing engineering.