Month: October 2015


I can’t, and I won’t joke today, because it might look like a joke to them, but it doesn’t really seem like one to me.

Today is just one of the days when I break down, when I just CAN’T take it anymore.

I can’t step into the kitchen without feeling a sudden urge to stab myself with a knife.

I can’t go sit in the balcony without imagining myself jumping off the 8th floor.

I can’t open the drawer without thinking about hanging myself to death with one of the ties.

I can’t use the washroom without wanting to gulp down a bit too much of cleaner.

Yes, it’s just one of those days.

My house, it doesn’t really feel like home to me anymore,my parents, they think of me just as a mere responsibility, a burden, a huge disappointment,my teachers, they believe I’m worthless,and my friends, they laugh at how stupid I am.

It feels like I belong nowhere, like this world isn’t the right place for me.

It’s like my soul feels entrapped in my body, screaming to be freed.

I hate it, how stuff gets fine for some time and then I go through all of it again. I hate it, how I stop myself from slitting open my throat each time, hoping things will get better. I hate reading sad stuff on Pinterest and then wanting to die. I hate the fact that I am not talented, or beautiful, or intelligent.

I hate myself.


Hell-o, there!

I’ve been sitting at home for the past few days, trying to come up with new excuses to bunk school (may god bless my creative soul!). A wave of homesickness comes crashing down at me the second I give school – and that doomed, DOOMED, dance routine- a thought and I feel like going and giving mommy bear a hug.

It all started in august, when we began with our annual function practices. Now, I’m very much into dramatics and oration, and when I didn’t get a good role in the play (for the 3rd consecutive year, thank you very much.), I was left shattered.

Then I tried getting my name registered for the orchestra (actually my boyfriend did so for me, and yes, I do have a boyfriend but that’s a long story…) but my efforts were in vain (his, actually).

I tried becoming an art volunteer as well, and guess what??????

I failed again! (Surprise! surprise!)

And now, they’re making me dance. *laughs so hard, starts to cry*

So, I am supposed to dance very gently, with intricate hand movements and an elegant posture, twirling around smoothly making the audience stare at me with awe…


There’s this one teenie-tiney problem with it – I can’t dance.

So, while the girls are busy being swan princesses, I go about with the routine more like a half –blind duckling, bumping into someone one second and stepping on someone’s foot the other. I then take various forms such as superman, batman, Spiderman, a pigeon and basically anything that flies.

I sometimes become an ostrich as well; especially when everyone’s staring and I turn as pink as the diagram of the vagina (did you ever notice they’re all pink in color?)

After finally mustering up the courage to face this As-Big-As-Nicky-Minaj’s-Ass problem, I will go to school tomorrow, and show ‘em that I can dance………………..

TERRIBLE enough to make them throw me out themselves.

Mission Damn-this-dance will be successful.


The Proc-ass-tinator.

A VERY informative introduction.

After brainstorming for way too long about how to start with my first post on this blog, I reached to the conclusion that I’d introduce myself to you WITHOUT actually introducing myself to you.

*makes an awkward face*

Ohkay, so I’m a 14 year old girl (PLEEEEASE DON’T CLOSE THE TAB ALREADY!) and I live in the middle of nowhere…

Alright, that was too dramatic.

I live in the middle of a HUGE mess (They call it my room) and trust me, when I capitalize the word “huge”, it means something.

Now, I’m putting up this blog for two reasons:

  1. Because I’m pretty lonely. I just want to tell SOMEONE about what’s going on in my life, but I can’t trust anyone who knows me with my secrets and my deepest fears because, well, in the end, they don’t care.
  2. And, because I really, REALLY need to let out what I feel without anyone judging me.

So, basically, I’ll use this as a platform to express what I feel… and my Feel-o-meter ranges from “as-sad-as-a-kangaroo-who-got-pick-pocketed” to “as happy-as-a-mad-scientist-who-had-sex-after-ages”.

To handle feels at such extreme levels, certain precautions are suggested:

  1. Readers are requested to keep a few rolls of toilet paper handy, because shit here is going to get real *toilet flushes*

Ohkay, whatever, I’m too lazy to type it all. Just try to get the idea.


Writing this post was harder than I thought it would be… But I hope it created enough interest in you to read what I write next.

And now I don’t know how to end this post, so just imagine me saying a muffled “bye” because that’s what I do best at awkward situations like these, make them awkward-er.