That's it!

I have mighty messed up my life. Have to make that final post and go. Just go. Not giving myself a chance to think much. Its easier that way. I dont care what happens after I'm gone.
7th May.

Hate all u men!

Bloody men! I hate whatever constitutes men, whatever they are made up of. I hate their sick brains, their horrible hormones and their hateful instincts. Bastards all of them. Can never see a female as another human being. They are always an object- an object of sexual satisfaction, object to pass time on and to feast their eyes upon, and sometimes hands or other parts of the body too.

Hate u all, u bloody men! And THIS is the very reason I never let em go happily if I see them enjoy a woman's discomfort when they stare at or wink at or touch a woman stranger. I quickly pace up and reach the culprit and give him a hard kick an inch above the back of his ankle, where it hurts a lot. When he turns to look, I give him exactly the same look that he had given to the woman whom he had troubled, when they looked at him. I get a sense of achievement, jubiliation, joy, satisfaction and fulfilment after that act. I did it a while ago on an eve teaser.. teasing me! Kicked a big cement block backwards so that it'd land on his bony leg and hurt him. It did. YAY!
Bastards all of them!

Other things in life

For once, I like the distractions. It feels good when I don't feel the pain and sorrow, the possessivness and jealousy, the thirst and passion. For once, it feels nice to be away, distant, apart, to not have the feeling of being wanted.
For once, I have given myself a chance to look at the other little joys of life which I have been overlooking... and I saw... and now, I shall try never to forget them or ignore them.

Life is actually cute. Just look around at the right time with an open mind.

Wishes..

I wish his annoyance would melt, wish his anger would leave him, wish he'd realize that even I don't like his arrogance.. When he snaps at me for something, I feel sad. But I remain silent and listen. Because most of the times than not, he proves to me from his actions and words and silence that he needs a listener. Only a listener. He doesn't even want the listener to ask anything. I know that because when I ask him to repeat what I haven't heard, he snaps again. So, a lot of times, a lot of things remain un-understood. Because I stop asking him to repeat thinking he'll be angry. He whispers on phone. Talks as if I'm right next to him in a silent room. But, my surroundings are not very quiet. But, I feel that he might get angry if I ask him to be louder. So, I press the phone hard to my ear. It hurts. But.. I can't help it. I wish he were more empathetic. I wish that he'd be a little less biased towards himself. I wish he'd understand me more. I wish he'd understand how sensitive I am..

And then he tells me that I shouldn't be scared of him..

This is how it is..

These days I walk with my head held low, aiming to study the stones that everybody steps on, trying to concentrate on the weeds so unwanted, wanting to give them some attention too, for they are usually left forgotten, and when they are noticed, they are kicked away from the way or plucked away from the rest of the good ones around, so that they don't get seen, because they don't gel in with the better ones around.

These days my smiles aren't genuine, they are forced out to humour people who smile at me, people who think everything is still smooth and fine in my life, at people who crave to have someone smile at them, at my family from whom I hide my sorrow because I don't want them to be worried or to come to me with cheer-up advices; these days my laughter doesn't echo like before.

These days, I am being judged, scrutinized, scanned, criticized, rebuked, warned and left with a feeling that everything is going to come to an end, that my source of happiness will be snatched away from me, that my smiles will disappear permanently, that life will become meaningless, that I wouldn't mind it if life left me behind to rot on this cruel loveless land.

These days, I wish I were robotic, that I wouldn't feel for things, for people, that I wouldn't get attached to them so easily, that letting go would be no mean task for me, that I'd really not care for them.

These days I ask Him why I was born Indian.

Not good..

I feel suicidal...

I fear...

And then one day, you'll grow out of me and you'll think how foolish you were to stick by me when you could've had better. You'll ask urself why you did it and you'll get the answer - guilt. Guilt for making me dream, for building up hopes in me, for hurting me.. and then the occasional human side of yours didn't want to hurt me again. You'll feel it has been a waste of good years, wasted amply with me, gaining nothing when you could've been elsewhere, bathing in pleasure. And when I know that you were with me because of your guilt, that will be the day I break. I will lose my speech, will have no words for anyone.

I hope you never look back at our togetherness as wasted time, or with complaints. I hope you always smile when you think of 'us', that the memories that are sweet to me are cherished by you too... forever...