life and death

Fickle, fickle, fickle. It’s all about the ending. Not a summation of it all or the average, the general taste. Just the ending.

Advertisements

and finally.

So, it’s the end of the beginning. The beginning of the end.

My exams are finally over! FINALLY. After two months of slogging, crying, nearly ripping apart textbooks in frustration, texting frantically, texting angrily, making plans for “after the board exams”, drinking iced-tea and thumbing through the 6763 odd lessons left the night before the exam and wondering when it would end, watching American Idol and Chuck and reading Veronica Mars transcripts in between studying, going on Facebook every five minutes, twitter-stalking celebs, Facebook-stalking people I didn’t talk to anymore, thinking about the past, the present, the future, freaking out, letting really dumb things ruin my day…

Making lists of things to do when the exams got over, making promises to yourself, deals with Fate (“I’ll start studying for Eco RIGHT. AWAY if I do well in Bio.”), dreaming, dreaming, dreaming, dreaming, not letting the drama queens get to me, the bitch-fights IN THE MIDDLE OF EXAMS piss me off, with the dreaming, dreaming, dreaming…

And it’s here. The Day. The beginning of the end of the beginning. The end of 12th standard, school, hanging out in front of the canteen, talking super-loudly in empty classrooms with friends when there’s a class going on in the same floor and we’re supposed to be downstairs playing a sport, losing so many textbooks and water bottles, the “funny” fights that end too quickly, walking with S in circles after school as we talk about nothing, reading ridiculously trashy books in the school library, getting cornered by a teacher and laughing for hours after she leaves, texting and getting calls from Z and D and F just when I assume we’ve lost touch for good, the A-P-P-P Harry Potter movie tradition…

It’s all over. Forever.

I’m not a sentimental person. I’m too busy expecting more and anticipating things to long for more of the present. I always thought I wouldn’t miss school that much. It’s not like I do now. It just feels unreal that’s its all over. Unreal that the 12 year period flew by. Unreal that I don’t have to put the wrong date-of-birth in Yahoo or Photobucket anymore. Unreal that I still feel fifteen, or sixteen, or thirteen years old…

Not seventeen.

Can’t be seventeen. That’s how old the kids were in The OC. Or Veronica Mars. I thought I’d never be that age. I thought I’d be watching high-school movies and TV Shows forever and be in school forever.

It’s unreal that I despite the drama, the drifting apart, the changes I wouldn’t have anticipated, I’m still pretty much the same. I’m still searching, finding my niche, and in the process, I seemed to have unlearned a lot more than I’ve learned.

This summer equals Idol, Script Frenzy, texting, hanging out with the usual people in the beach, talking on the phone, books, French class, maybe guitar as well, while struggling with college admissions (which will briefly give K and I something to talk about at last) and anticipating an easier, better life in college with everything being better than what it really is.

That’s what I’ve been doing since the summer of 2008.

That’s what I shall be doing till I feel like I have something better to do, somewhere better to go… when I’ll stop anticipating, planning, wondering and start living and believing I’m actually where I am.

the end of the decade. and?

2009 wasn’t horrible. It could’ve been better. I made too many mistakes but I also like to think I’ve learnt from them.

The Law of Losing Something and Gaining Something Else is a law I believe in. I did lose a lot of things but I gained other things so precious I didn’t see it till I had to. I have bartered the carefully carved topaz for a diamond in the rough and that’s okay.

Sometimes, I feel pangs because of the people, places, easier times I’ve left behind but things happen that make me aware of how I’ve needed this change. I’m still scatter-brained and clumsy and irresponsible but I’ve gotten more independent and rely more on myself, to an extent. It shocked me to realise, this year, how I should’ve just trusted my judgment instead of others at times, how I could’ve done things better if I’d let myself have a say in it instead of letting everybody else tell me what to do. And I was shocked by how shocking the revelation was.

I have resolutions this year. But I’m not going to right them down as that would just make them clichedly forgettable. As a decade, this has been a pretty okay one! I mean, we had Britney, BSB, Harry Potter, –cough– Twilight, Adaamm Lambert, Idol, The OC, Death! Cab For Cutie and so many fluffy-cute-amazing things! I’ve probably over looked the best and greatest things but at the top of my head, that’s what the decade represents.

And?

Well, I’d like to just blossom into this perfect person and meet the perfect person and pick the perfect subject to take in college without getting bored by the perfection, thanks to all the sparkly-fireworks-filled tungsten-y (because sepia is so non-futuristic!) moments but I guess life’s just going to be an extension of what it is now.

But I guess you never know, right?

This post could jinx it. This post could also MAKE it funny and Oh-My-God-Yesterday-I-Was-Like-Blah-And-Now-It’s-ACTUALLY-Blah!!!

So… whatever happens… just happen. By now I’d like to think I’m ready for anything (ha).

circlesneverend.

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.