Tragedy is, when the love of your life is telling you, you deserve the lovelessness.
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
Potty
Newark happens to be the shitiest city in jersey. I'm so hating it here. I've never escaped from anything, but I have to get away from here.
Thursday, March 19, 2015
Saturday, March 7, 2015
Confession #451
September 2013.
Its my brother's birthday. As usual, I've forgotten it. I only remembered when my girlfriend reminded me what day it is. I can't exactly blame myself, although I want to, (since I ONLY blame myself for every little wrong), but I do, either way, and call him up on his phone.
'Happy Birthday, asshole. :)'
'Shut up, bitch. You forgot. Anyway, did you get me something?'
'Yep. I'll show you what I got for you when I come home.'
I finished my drink in a hurry, told my woman that I have to be off and meet my brother. He just turned 17. One more year till he's 'legal'. She understood, like she always did. Smiled. And said, 'Don't be an asshole to him. Be good. Treat him to something.' I smiled, kissed her on the forehead, told her I'd love her forever, kissed her again, and left for home.
'I got you a baggy of happiness bro' :D
'Weed?' His grin, literally washed me off my feet. My little brother was growing up to be just like me. Stoner, music lover, achiever and coolguy.
Yes. Achiever.
In today's context, it sounds ironic, but back then I was.
Good student. Cracked the GATE with flying colors. Got calls from both of the regions best universities with well paying scholarships, landed three well paying jobs, none of which I joined, since I wanted to get a PhD. Had the best girl in the world. I did so well, that my dad gifted me a car. Joyride. We'd whoosh past the parks and bus stands all over the city, with the music playing on full volume, beers on the back seat, my hand in hers over the gear stick. Life is good. My professors were happy with my performance, my peers were impressed with my sociable and good willed nature, my girlfriend, happy with what I had to offer, he person that I was, caring, loving, OCD for cleanliness (I haven't lost that bit), champion of de kewl among my friends. Life was good.
'Can we smoke this? Will I be okay if i smoke too much?'
'Shut up, twerp! I'll show you how it's done. But first, I'll teach you how to roll some good spliffs, okay? You must learn that, since I'm a pro at rolling, and who else could be a better teacher, but if you fail, I'll screw you over'
'Okay okay, show me'
'Only after the pater falls asleep, bitch'
He grinned. I ruffled his hair. I was 24, he was 17. I locked the mezzanine door, and I carefully showed him how to make a roach, crush the stuff, mix it and then roll it. He was a fast learner. Nailed it at the first attempt.
I couldn't hide a grin of pride.
After a couple of hours, we were happily smoking up on the roof. I called N, told her that my brother has evolved into a real man.
In retrospect, that was so juvenile, but so happymaking. Still brings tears to my eyes.
T: 'I'm feeling weird, bro. Happy but weirdly over the top'
Me: 'Shutup and enjoy what life has to offer. This be the best'
He smiled. His eyes were bloodshot. I smirked and kept toking. I ruffled up his hair again.
2 am in the night. The city, which I loved, slept peacefully. I made a pledge to myself.
'No matter what happens, trash your dreams of leaving the country, settle down here. Here, you have everything, a car, the best woman in the world, fellow travelers (since you like to travel), great friends, a good career awaiting you, a Life!. So, stay here I will.' I made myself a promise on that night, with N, just off the phone, and with Tutai, stoned and happy. I gazed up at the stars. They twinkled in approval. I smiled and closed my eyes.
March 2014.
'Fuck you and fuck this shit! I'm out. This will only kill you and kill your happiness'
7 days later.
'Fine. I wanna know what this shit is, since y'all are almost hellbent on losing or kicking your friends out just for this stuff'
'okay, bro, you gotta,......*person nods off*'
'Yo, keep up and awake, damnit!'
'Yeah yeah. I'll pour it for you, all you have to do it, hold the flame, and take a whiff'
I took a whiff.
Every pore in my body opened up. Every bad thought, dissolved. Every premonition, died. My eyes could see ore, my nostrils could breathe more, my ears could hear better, my touch, my touch, was so, relaxing. I could feel my skin melt inwards, my muscles relaxed, my heartbeat, slowed down. My body was, content. I had a hard on, which I needn't satisfy. My brain said, 'You are absolute'.
I got hooked. Ironic and funny.
Next morning.
Terrible terrible nausea. Headache. I thought I was sick, never guessed it was the withdraw. So, feeling like shit, I decided on trudging through days work. Lab meetings turned sour, fought with a friend, met N afterwards, but couldn't look her in her beautiful eyes.
'What's wrong, Bebe? You seem to be a little out of sorts. Tell me what's wrong, you'll feel better'. She held me close and kissed me.
How'd she guess?
'Nothing, I'm just a little off today. Everything's fine, love'
'Are you sure?'
Was I? I never liked being unsocial or turning people down, but for the first time in my life, I did. I turned her down. For the first time in my life, I lied, to her and to myself. She believed me. My heart broke into a million little pieces.
*more to come*
Since all my posts till date have been personal, it kinda amuses me to look back and see that most of them, showcase, the 'somewhat' vulnerable side of me. But that's not how I am in my entirety. I am a vehemently independent, self sufficient person. that has been showcased in various traits of my character. I can steal, but never beg or borrow. I can work till I drop till I get what I want. I can train myself to living in newer, hostile circumstances. I can live, with, or without, whatever I may desire. But whenever I log in to this blog, I feel, that somehow, I'm obliged to let my weaker side out.
Its my brother's birthday. As usual, I've forgotten it. I only remembered when my girlfriend reminded me what day it is. I can't exactly blame myself, although I want to, (since I ONLY blame myself for every little wrong), but I do, either way, and call him up on his phone.
'Happy Birthday, asshole. :)'
'Shut up, bitch. You forgot. Anyway, did you get me something?'
'Yep. I'll show you what I got for you when I come home.'
I finished my drink in a hurry, told my woman that I have to be off and meet my brother. He just turned 17. One more year till he's 'legal'. She understood, like she always did. Smiled. And said, 'Don't be an asshole to him. Be good. Treat him to something.' I smiled, kissed her on the forehead, told her I'd love her forever, kissed her again, and left for home.
'I got you a baggy of happiness bro' :D
'Weed?' His grin, literally washed me off my feet. My little brother was growing up to be just like me. Stoner, music lover, achiever and coolguy.
Yes. Achiever.
In today's context, it sounds ironic, but back then I was.
Good student. Cracked the GATE with flying colors. Got calls from both of the regions best universities with well paying scholarships, landed three well paying jobs, none of which I joined, since I wanted to get a PhD. Had the best girl in the world. I did so well, that my dad gifted me a car. Joyride. We'd whoosh past the parks and bus stands all over the city, with the music playing on full volume, beers on the back seat, my hand in hers over the gear stick. Life is good. My professors were happy with my performance, my peers were impressed with my sociable and good willed nature, my girlfriend, happy with what I had to offer, he person that I was, caring, loving, OCD for cleanliness (I haven't lost that bit), champion of de kewl among my friends. Life was good.
'Can we smoke this? Will I be okay if i smoke too much?'
'Shut up, twerp! I'll show you how it's done. But first, I'll teach you how to roll some good spliffs, okay? You must learn that, since I'm a pro at rolling, and who else could be a better teacher, but if you fail, I'll screw you over'
'Okay okay, show me'
'Only after the pater falls asleep, bitch'
He grinned. I ruffled his hair. I was 24, he was 17. I locked the mezzanine door, and I carefully showed him how to make a roach, crush the stuff, mix it and then roll it. He was a fast learner. Nailed it at the first attempt.
I couldn't hide a grin of pride.
After a couple of hours, we were happily smoking up on the roof. I called N, told her that my brother has evolved into a real man.
In retrospect, that was so juvenile, but so happymaking. Still brings tears to my eyes.
T: 'I'm feeling weird, bro. Happy but weirdly over the top'
Me: 'Shutup and enjoy what life has to offer. This be the best'
He smiled. His eyes were bloodshot. I smirked and kept toking. I ruffled up his hair again.
2 am in the night. The city, which I loved, slept peacefully. I made a pledge to myself.
'No matter what happens, trash your dreams of leaving the country, settle down here. Here, you have everything, a car, the best woman in the world, fellow travelers (since you like to travel), great friends, a good career awaiting you, a Life!. So, stay here I will.' I made myself a promise on that night, with N, just off the phone, and with Tutai, stoned and happy. I gazed up at the stars. They twinkled in approval. I smiled and closed my eyes.
March 2014.
'Fuck you and fuck this shit! I'm out. This will only kill you and kill your happiness'
7 days later.
'Fine. I wanna know what this shit is, since y'all are almost hellbent on losing or kicking your friends out just for this stuff'
'okay, bro, you gotta,......*person nods off*'
'Yo, keep up and awake, damnit!'
'Yeah yeah. I'll pour it for you, all you have to do it, hold the flame, and take a whiff'
I took a whiff.
Every pore in my body opened up. Every bad thought, dissolved. Every premonition, died. My eyes could see ore, my nostrils could breathe more, my ears could hear better, my touch, my touch, was so, relaxing. I could feel my skin melt inwards, my muscles relaxed, my heartbeat, slowed down. My body was, content. I had a hard on, which I needn't satisfy. My brain said, 'You are absolute'.
I got hooked. Ironic and funny.
Next morning.
Terrible terrible nausea. Headache. I thought I was sick, never guessed it was the withdraw. So, feeling like shit, I decided on trudging through days work. Lab meetings turned sour, fought with a friend, met N afterwards, but couldn't look her in her beautiful eyes.
'What's wrong, Bebe? You seem to be a little out of sorts. Tell me what's wrong, you'll feel better'. She held me close and kissed me.
How'd she guess?
'Nothing, I'm just a little off today. Everything's fine, love'
'Are you sure?'
Was I? I never liked being unsocial or turning people down, but for the first time in my life, I did. I turned her down. For the first time in my life, I lied, to her and to myself. She believed me. My heart broke into a million little pieces.
*more to come*
Since all my posts till date have been personal, it kinda amuses me to look back and see that most of them, showcase, the 'somewhat' vulnerable side of me. But that's not how I am in my entirety. I am a vehemently independent, self sufficient person. that has been showcased in various traits of my character. I can steal, but never beg or borrow. I can work till I drop till I get what I want. I can train myself to living in newer, hostile circumstances. I can live, with, or without, whatever I may desire. But whenever I log in to this blog, I feel, that somehow, I'm obliged to let my weaker side out.
This freezing rain is like a wall. You cannot go outside. Since I've practically lived my life on the streets of the wretchedcity, it is kinda hard to hold myself indoors. But the scare of pneumonia, is strong. Whenever I get some time, I take the LightRail, go off to Newark Penn, Then a couple of stops off to Bleeker Street. Bleeker Street is fun. An alcoholics dream, a vegans nightmare. The lebanese shops are a blessing. Especially when you're all alone. I walk by the deli stores, the bars and the curio shops and stop at the Barnes and Noble bookstore. Books, my only beautiful friend. My sense of possession overwhelms when I'm at Barnes and Noble. I know for a fact, I can get the book I want, read it, possess it, keep it in a shelf and it will never leave me. Never.
Sobriety is blissful. I have never been so content with myself. Never before. Having a routine is rewarding. And my reward, is a good nights sleep.
Cooking, is also, a very effective stressbuster. Sometimes, when I get really really bored, which is, most of the time, I cook. haha. Never thought i'd see myself in this position. But such is life.
Sobriety is blissful. I have never been so content with myself. Never before. Having a routine is rewarding. And my reward, is a good nights sleep.
Cooking, is also, a very effective stressbuster. Sometimes, when I get really really bored, which is, most of the time, I cook. haha. Never thought i'd see myself in this position. But such is life.
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