Works for me.

Have you ever seen masons working with cement? When the work is almost done, they mix a gray cement and sand with water and plaster it on the constructed/repaired portion. Then they use this block of wood to smoothen it. They do it so lovingly, as if caressing the cement and the water. It's slow work and they begin from one end and work towards the other. Somehow it's very soothing to watch it. During my Xth boards, they were constructing this parking lot over what once used to be our playground. As the sun would beat down, they would keep smoothening the surface with cement. And when each individual square would finish, they would take a break. It was so satisfying to see each square perfectly smoothened. Then the dark wet cement would dry and turn a slight gray colour. Weirdly fascinating.

CRAYONS

I have always loved crayons. Every other kind of painting equipment was tough to use. Crayons were easy. So I used crayons. They come in all colours. In rough paper, they smudge and smear. It is fun. Then they sometimes leave an oily feeling in your fingers. Have you ever smelled them? Then sharpening crayons is one more fun thing. When you crush those little shaved things in between your fingers, they leave little stains in your hands. Very artistic you will look. I like seeing scattered crayons too. They can be especially inviting. When you are angry, or impatient, you can rub the crayon vigorously on the paper. When you're more calm, or lazy, you can draw meaningless delicate lines all over the sheet of paper. Somehow, drawing with crayons always makes me want to sing... Lalalalala... Haha... Try crayons.

Urghhhh

I have this horrifying temper. Once let loose, it’s scary. For others AND for me. And the crazy part is… I can’t control it. Come what may. It’s this fierce, blinding rage when my eyes feel warm with anger and I can feel the blood rushing to my head… The feeling at the back of my mind where I know I have to be stopped, then the more overpowering feeling that hopes no one stops me ‘cause I’ll just lash out at them instead. Then the feeling two minutes into my anger when I start regretting it all but am too far into the anger to back out… Then the steaming tears shed privately… The hurt and the insecurity… And finally the feeling of being left alone and the forlornness of it all… Makes me shudder to recall those shifting emotions. Oh well.

College is my antidote

I feel so much cleaner right now. So much purer… Truer… Happier ? I love this feeling. I feel like an open book… Without complications… Like life is really worth living... Living like this… It draws me, this feeling… I feel free, somehow… I will dance. Chin up and jubilantly so.

Roller Coaster

I think I’m still in the process of understanding myself. I still don’t know why I react in certain ways to things, why I feel like saying what. It’s like being perpetually drunk and not knowing what or why or how things come to what they are. Then I have these sudden sober moments when I’m completely in control and can think constructively what I am and see myself. Usually I see myself from the outside, view what I’m doing as if I’m a spectator. Those moments when I completely extricate myself from my body and my mind is such a surreal feeling… It’s as if I have to fit into this role that everyone around me views me in, and I just have to mould myself accordingly. I can’t resist the temptation to give them exactly what they expect and what they want. And sometimes, I manage to resist it and act completely opposite to that, and in those moments I experience one of my highest euphoria. It’s a kind of triumphant rebellion, but after that I invariably end up feeling depressed and drained.

Your due

Once, when we were kids, we made a cake for you in the mud. But before you could see it, my hand accidentally hit it and a part of it broke off. I was screamed at by the bully. You saved me. Thank you.

WINTER

Cold moments,
When I stare off in space,
Chilly winds,
That sting me in the face.
Icy words,
Uttered without a thought.
Bite me,
Bring tears I had fought.

Shivering in the cold,
Attracted by the warmth,
Here it was,
But now it’s gone.

But was it ever
Here or never?

Hopeful hands halt,
The smile dies.
With a heavy heart,
I return, from lies.
Further convinced,
Of the feeling that grows,
“It’s a mirage you behold.”
“All that glitters isn’t gold.”

Reprimand oneself,
For the sense I lack,
But what is the viciousness?
That drives me back?

In the darkest of misery,
Stubbornly I hope,
Unreasonable expectations,
Mercy! I know, I know.