Tastes Like Cotton Candy

Tastes Like Cotton Candy

We were all born equal. We had equal chances of screwing up and equal chances of miraculously “making it big” and all of us dreamed of making it big.

We were happy growing up and talking about the future in which we were all amazing writers and presidents of the world or “made a difference” or clichedly “made people cry when we died.”

And here we are. Some of you did have these amazing stories of falling in love and getting so much by taking chances. Some of you did turn pretty one summer and with the prettiness came the sense of humour and the will to live. Some of you ditched the dreams and yet kept the big circle of friends. Some of you worked hard and got what you’d always wanted while Fate grew silent and morose.

I grew quieter and quieter as the one big leap I’d made caused me to fall flat on my face. The dreams which once hung around me like a halo were now all I had. They moved inward and melted with the fabric of my heart. I couldn’t see or think about anything connected to it anymore- but I felt that feverish glow emitted by it. I’d say “If only” or “After I do something amazing” and I’d be one with the clouds.

Dreaming can be dangerous. I didn’t have a plan anymore. I just waited patiently- waiting for the blur to fade and for both the worlds I was a part of to unite. It didn’t.

Verbally, stringing words together became a difficult task. I’d forgotten how to say what I wanted to say. Sometimes, I didn’t think there were words that could describe what I felt most of the time. I listened to music and clung to the stories I wrote. I lost all the fair weather friends while the ones who had always mattered did stay. But now we hung out in twos instead of hanging out in packs.

I was the girl who stared at her shoes when she walked. I was the girl who stared at you so intensely but looked away when you’d turn to meet her eyes. I was the girl who wasn’t always like that and you probably knew that as I was the girl you grew up with.

I heard about how you fell in love for the first time. I heard about how she put up with all the rumours and bitchery and how everything made her stronger. I was the one who kept track of all of your stories and built it up in my head. Sometimes, I write about it.

poker face, lambert, eliot, new moon, jane gallagher

TACKY POST ALERT!

Just found Daughtry’s Poker Face cover. I can’t stop listening to it! While it’s an acoustic version in a predictably acoustic way, it’s beautiful and the rawness about it gets to you.

Also downloaded Lambert’s album and I really liked Sleepwalker, A Loaded Smile and For Your Entertainment but it isn’t the ZOMFG-ness you’d expect from Adam Lambert who can do no wrong! Still, he’s human and it was a nice debut!

And saw the AMA Performance clip! The interview with Hollywood access after the thing totally made up for the tacky vocals and over-the-top-ness (It was shocking and fun and all that but it was all just so tackily executed and all over the place (vocaaals! :O); at least that’s what I felt. I winced a dozen times) because you just can’t not lurrve that guy, can you? (I can’t. haha)

I’m studying for English as I type and ugh, I’m still in the same poem. I’ll just do a bunch of poems and stories out of the lot and skim through Macbeth, I guess. Sociology was horrible so I’m not exactly motivated. T.S. Eliot has his moments though!

Every time I go to sparknotes, I end up taking one of their quizzes or something and forget what I went there for.

Adam Lambert is so not a Madonna. Not yet, anyway. Maybe a Lady GaGa! It’ll be really cute if they get together (Adam and GaGa)! Who knew Kristin Stewart and Rob Pattinson would? That’s just soo annoyingly perfect, like the Taylors (who have Taylor jokes, I just know)..
X will probably drag me to New Moon and I will be unwilling but secretly okay about it because as annoying as anything Twilight is, I will still watch every Twilight movie. It sucks, but doesn’t suck that bad. If it were less hyped, I would probably want to hype it though, of course, Edward is not hot. And the writing is horrible. But it’s fun time pass.

This post is all over the place but I’m in such a mood. K keeps calling L a jerk it’s funny! It’s obvious she won’t call him ever, but she won’t stop talking about him anyway. He is totally (in her words) her Jane Gallagher. I wish we were tested on The Catcher in the Rye. Pfft. Though that would probably ruin the book.

Okay, I’m done. That felt good. Can’t wait for the exams to end already.