Free Association

It’s been awhile. I felt this really great urge to blog minutes back. Now, it’s almost gone. Instead, I feel the urgency to get it done with fast, as I have to study for my MidSem exam that’s day after. So I’m just BLANK, as you often are when you think too much and don’t know what to do about it.

If I’m anything, I’m SLOW. My thought processes ARE kind of fast (like, I think too much and get tensed really quickly) but my responses are eh… way too slow. And when I’m muddled like I am now, I take a full ten minutes to even comprehend what people are saying. This also happens when I’m playing the violin. This make it SO HARD to meet new people and have said people not think I’m a total fool.


Also, the pressure to study and do well in college is super high these days. It was okay in tenth standard when you weren’t really studying for you. But when you ARE studying coz you know you need to study if you want to get anywhere in life and get into some place awesome for PG, the pressure is on. I came back home at 10pm yesterday from my best friend’s party, and was forced to study all night for today’s exam which was postponed in the end because of the rain.

Also, I ended up sleeping from twelve to six today, and woke up feeling like a FOOL. What a waste of a perfectly good day! Now, I’ve got to start studying for the test due day after.

I like the weather, though. It’s amazing. It’s all rainy, and it’s actually nice and cool in Chennai. I feel like lazing around and reading Wodehouse… not studying about Hormones and the Mind-Brain relationship. PG Wodehouse’s books are like desert, by the way. I don’t know how I survived without reading his books before. The prose is like Wow. Makes me laugh a dozen times every ten pages

I feel kind of lame and sad and lonely though… sometimes. It’s random and while I do have really good friends, I feel like such a floater- who doesn’t quite belong anywhere.

I also wish I’d taken Journalism instead of Psychology. I feel like choosing Psychology over Journalism was a big mistake. It’s just not interesting anymore. I’m more interested in the stuff my friends who took Journalism are studying.

It’s no use thinking What If, and wishing I could go back and relive the Summer of 2010 (the best days of my life), but I do think… I do pine for things like a lost puppy.

If I’d been Psychoanalysed- the contents of the above would’ve been more or less what I’d let out in the process of free association. Ok I’m done. I think.

failing, falling .

It’s one of those days when everything just kills you. Memories bring pangs, conversations are replayed in your head again and again till everything sounds horrible, words feel like double-edged swords and there’s no hope left as you feel like you’re the unluckiest person in the world and everyone and everything’s against you.

My friends think I tend to go overboard with the… I don’t know what to call it without sounding pretentious. Yes, I do have those dark days, lengthy periods of time when I feel horrible and nothing can soothe me and the hopelessness just takes over. Apparently, I have no reason for it.

I can’t disagree since obviously I’m biased. And A in particular sounded like she really believed it with the whole, ‘You’re smart, you’re pretty-‘ thing… almost like she wasn’t just humouring me. But god, oh god, it’s just so sad how I create my own problems.. thanks to NaNo, I think my Term exams sucked. The two papers I’ve already got are just… horribly marked.

And I’m flunking Bio as always. The thought of getting my results this Monday makes me cringe. And the report. Ack. Teachers hate me. Okay, just one- no, two of them.

I don’t regret choosing NaNoWriMo over my term exams though, though it wasn’t like I was typing away the day before the exams or anything.

Oh, and things are so so awkward with certain people… fuelled by my awkwardness, of course. I hate failing at both my social and academic life. It’s natural when I’m doing great at at least one of them, or average at both, because that makes sense… but this is cruel.

And I lose things. Yes, I can’t keep track of the things I lose. I don’t know where they disappear. But more about that later.


I’m listening to Sleeping With Ghosts by Placebo right now. That one song was my muse for half a novel years ago and it’s weird hearing it after I’d played it over and over again years back till I got sick of it. It doesn’t sicken me anymore, surprisingly, but it sounds as hauntingly amazing as it did in the beginning.

It’s songs like these, TV Shows like The OC and books like A Walk to Remember, Gone With The Wind and Fountainhead that  are responsible for my romanticized notion of life as they make everything sound so beautiful: love, hate, self-destruction, everything. It isn’t though. Life is more like this circle of bullshit, like, maybe A Catcher in The Rye.

I loved that book as well but reading it was torture, though disturbingly beautiful torture at some places though my head ached at others. Life’s like Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld which I couldn’t put down but every page filled me with dread as I knew where it was leading. We’re all doomed. Everything’s balanced. Misery is canceled by happiness but that in turn is balanced with misery. It feels like this endless circle and moving in circles, we all end up dizzy and ditzy.