My dear crazy lady,
Why are you so shady?
You seem to be on a war path.
Your acquaintances seem to hate you
Your friends secretly despise you,
You're not considering the aftermath.
But let me tell you this,
you're falling in an abyss
For karma can be a total bitch.
Your evil plan will fail
We'll watch you wail,
And this time, I don't think there's a glitch.
Aug 26, 2011
Eerily Calm
A lot has happened over the past two months...and it has been enough to push me off the edge into an abyss of insanity. I've been scarily close to a breakdown, I could almost see it happening. And yet, it disturbs me how eerily calm I feel. There's anger in me, some say I'm a volcano ready to erupt. I feel like there is a pot of anger boiling over, and yet, when it comes to letting it out, I just can't seem to do it. I wonder why...
My friends are treading on eggshells around me, and they've admitted to it. Everyone's expecting a breakdown of some sort. I often wonder, should I give in? But something has kept me calm through these turbulent times, and I think I should place my faith in that unknown strength. The calm is scary, but it's comforting.
Shit, I just realised...this sounds way too corny. Stopping now!!!
My friends are treading on eggshells around me, and they've admitted to it. Everyone's expecting a breakdown of some sort. I often wonder, should I give in? But something has kept me calm through these turbulent times, and I think I should place my faith in that unknown strength. The calm is scary, but it's comforting.
Shit, I just realised...this sounds way too corny. Stopping now!!!
Jul 6, 2011
Drunken. Disturbed. Deranged.
It's mental, the title, but I can't figure what else describes the state I’m in. Some say it's scary, I say it's fun. I don't mind the mood swings. The silliest of things will cheer me up during the dullest of moments. Sure these silly things are hard to find on a tough day, but they do appear...just like a bright ray of sunshine every morning. All you have to do is spot it. And that's what matters.
The past few days, weeks, even months, have been a blur. Work has taken over my life. I may say I don't care, but I do. I care more than I should. I care enough to lose sleep over a missing word here and there. I care enough to show up even if I'm feeling sick. I care enough to stay back every single day. Not like it gets in the way. I'd rather slave away than socialise, because I don't have to wear a fake smile and passable clothes for my work date - my beloved computer. I can sulk and grunt and scream at the machine, but it still works for me. Now isn't this the ideal boyfriend!
Let's begin with the drunken bit. I may enjoy the occasional drink or 10, but I'm not an alcoholic. Maybe, mentally. Everyday, I wish I could kick back and have a drink. I can't help but want one, given that my mind is on a roller-coaster ride every single day. By the end of the day, I am so caught up with wracking my brains every 15 minutes, it's difficult to stop. No wonder I'm losing sleep. And hair. I wish it would make me shed some pounds though. All that thinking just make me long for comfort food, and before you know it, a deliciously sinful snack is on my table. Just a snack, no alcohol. That appears on the table when I'm far, far away from work. I dare not be drunk at work, I'm afraid I might say or do something others will regret. I won’t regret it, on the contrary, it'd be nice to get it off my chest :)
There's a disturbed side to every human being. Some hide it carefully, some can't help but show it. I know I'm disturbed when I watch Beauty and the Beast and wonder why Disney promotes bestiality. I know I'm disturbed when I'm having a serious conversation with someone while misinterpreting every other sentence they say and giggling silently over it. But that's just me. I'm sure I have Bipolar Disorder. But it fuels my mind, makes me come up with absurd ideas, and that works for me. A normal life would've killed me by now.
The other day, I was told to 'get more serious'. Had someone said this to me a few years ago, I'd have laughed in their face, flipped the bird and walked out. Things have obviously changed. I thought, why not. Let's give it a shot. So, I dressed more seriously to work. I tried not to abuse. I tried not to joke around with colleagues and focus on my work. You know how it helped? IT DEPRESSED ME!!! I learnt a tough lesson that week - Never ever change yourself just because someone else thinks you aren't good enough. If they can't accept you for the way you are, too bad for them.
I just realised this post sounds abnormally serious. Damn, I have to end this right now. Adios!
The past few days, weeks, even months, have been a blur. Work has taken over my life. I may say I don't care, but I do. I care more than I should. I care enough to lose sleep over a missing word here and there. I care enough to show up even if I'm feeling sick. I care enough to stay back every single day. Not like it gets in the way. I'd rather slave away than socialise, because I don't have to wear a fake smile and passable clothes for my work date - my beloved computer. I can sulk and grunt and scream at the machine, but it still works for me. Now isn't this the ideal boyfriend!
Let's begin with the drunken bit. I may enjoy the occasional drink or 10, but I'm not an alcoholic. Maybe, mentally. Everyday, I wish I could kick back and have a drink. I can't help but want one, given that my mind is on a roller-coaster ride every single day. By the end of the day, I am so caught up with wracking my brains every 15 minutes, it's difficult to stop. No wonder I'm losing sleep. And hair. I wish it would make me shed some pounds though. All that thinking just make me long for comfort food, and before you know it, a deliciously sinful snack is on my table. Just a snack, no alcohol. That appears on the table when I'm far, far away from work. I dare not be drunk at work, I'm afraid I might say or do something others will regret. I won’t regret it, on the contrary, it'd be nice to get it off my chest :)
There's a disturbed side to every human being. Some hide it carefully, some can't help but show it. I know I'm disturbed when I watch Beauty and the Beast and wonder why Disney promotes bestiality. I know I'm disturbed when I'm having a serious conversation with someone while misinterpreting every other sentence they say and giggling silently over it. But that's just me. I'm sure I have Bipolar Disorder. But it fuels my mind, makes me come up with absurd ideas, and that works for me. A normal life would've killed me by now.
The other day, I was told to 'get more serious'. Had someone said this to me a few years ago, I'd have laughed in their face, flipped the bird and walked out. Things have obviously changed. I thought, why not. Let's give it a shot. So, I dressed more seriously to work. I tried not to abuse. I tried not to joke around with colleagues and focus on my work. You know how it helped? IT DEPRESSED ME!!! I learnt a tough lesson that week - Never ever change yourself just because someone else thinks you aren't good enough. If they can't accept you for the way you are, too bad for them.
I just realised this post sounds abnormally serious. Damn, I have to end this right now. Adios!
Mar 2, 2011
Stinkerman
Stinkerman, Stinkerman
Stinks worse than a rotten fish can.
Let's one rip anytime
Makes people wish they were covered in grime.
Smell it? That's stinkermaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnn!!!!!!
Stinks worse than a rotten fish can.
Let's one rip anytime
Makes people wish they were covered in grime.
Smell it? That's stinkermaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnn!!!!!!
Feb 25, 2011
The Buffet Table
My world has become so twisted, it's unbelievable. Gone are the days where I typed furiously on my computer, trying to finish ten things at a time as loud rock kept me company by blaring through my ears. Now the earphones lie sadly in a forgotten corner, hoping to be picked up at some desperate point. Now, what keeps me constant company is the group of lunatics I sit with. Don't be mistaken, I'm a part of this group. Our mission - eat. bray. laugh. And when the shit hits the ceiling, work.
We are called the buffet table. My excuse is - we are a bunch of writers who use our creative minds to the point of exhaustion and we need constant refuelling. None of us opt for healthy food though. Chips, biscuits, chaat as the day progresses. People may laugh as they walk by, but they definitely stop and grab a bite.
I dedicate this post to my beloved buffet table. Had it not been for you, I would still be the writer with the earphones on. I wouldn't have the constant jokes and innuendos to laugh at. Thank you for awakening the insanity. Thank you for giving me a reason to look forward to the dull and boring Mondays. And thank you for making my weight loss plan go down the drain :)
We are called the buffet table. My excuse is - we are a bunch of writers who use our creative minds to the point of exhaustion and we need constant refuelling. None of us opt for healthy food though. Chips, biscuits, chaat as the day progresses. People may laugh as they walk by, but they definitely stop and grab a bite.
I dedicate this post to my beloved buffet table. Had it not been for you, I would still be the writer with the earphones on. I wouldn't have the constant jokes and innuendos to laugh at. Thank you for awakening the insanity. Thank you for giving me a reason to look forward to the dull and boring Mondays. And thank you for making my weight loss plan go down the drain :)
Jul 2, 2010
My Little Rabbit
Here' another poem I wrote today. It talks about a little rabbit who has many friends...my so called gift to 3 and 4 year olds :)
My little rabbit is cute and nice,
She must be made of sugar and spice.
She loves to drink lemonade on ice,
And eats her vegetables in a trice!
Her friends are cute little sparrows and mice
And squirrels and lambs who are just as nice.
My little rabbit is kind and wise,
I think she's an angel in disguise!
My little rabbit is cute and nice,
She must be made of sugar and spice.
She loves to drink lemonade on ice,
And eats her vegetables in a trice!
Her friends are cute little sparrows and mice
And squirrels and lambs who are just as nice.
My little rabbit is kind and wise,
I think she's an angel in disguise!
Jun 7, 2010
Kaw. Kaw. We have been hired as your friggin alarm!
Dratted crows.
Lately, I have been up at what seems like the crack of dawn. I know we should live by the saying, Early to bed, early to blaah blaah, but that doesn't work for me. And 6 am is not early to rise, it is bloody midnight for me. It just leaves me cranky and sleep deprived all day, making my mood swings worse than a pregnant woman. All this because a lovey dovey crow couple just got married and decided to start their new home on MY window.
They moved in on a Sunday morning. Sunday. My sacred day. The day I spend being lazy. The day I refuse to get up before 10 am. And my new freeloading tenants woke me up at 6:30 am. It wasn't too bright when I woke up, and for a moment, I thought it was just a bad dream. But the voices got louder, and before you know it I was having a full fledged argument with the crows. I questioned the legality of their actions, but the scrawny you-know-whats continued to throw rubbish on my window. Which was quite unfortunate, as my sister's bed is right next to the window and the otherwise spick and span bed now looks worse than a rotting dumpster. After 15 minutes of swearing in multiple languages asking them to leave my window alone, the fight got violent. They brought in reinforcements.
Two more crows joined the home making activity. By now, I was totally losing it. I got out of my bed, picked up my shoe and flung it at the window. Viola! They flew away! I had won the first round of this ferocious battle! Little did I know that there was more to come...
They left me alone on Sunday. By Sunday night, I was sure those pesky paupers wouldn't return.However, Monday morning arrived. My dreadful week begun with a consistent tap tap on my window and loud kaw kaws, like the crows were jammin' on my window. And then on, we established a pattern. I would hurl a shoe at the window ( I kept a few pairs by my bedside, just so I wouldn't run out of battle Armour) and they would make sure I woke up an hour before my alarm rang. I left them all all morning, so they could dump all the garbage of the world on my window. And every evening, I destroyed the garbage palace. After a week of tough battles and creatively violent abuses (from me and the crow family), they caved in. They finally gave up the idea.My room is now crow-nest free and silent again. The shoes still lie beside my bed. You know, just in case...
Lately, I have been up at what seems like the crack of dawn. I know we should live by the saying, Early to bed, early to blaah blaah, but that doesn't work for me. And 6 am is not early to rise, it is bloody midnight for me. It just leaves me cranky and sleep deprived all day, making my mood swings worse than a pregnant woman. All this because a lovey dovey crow couple just got married and decided to start their new home on MY window.
They moved in on a Sunday morning. Sunday. My sacred day. The day I spend being lazy. The day I refuse to get up before 10 am. And my new freeloading tenants woke me up at 6:30 am. It wasn't too bright when I woke up, and for a moment, I thought it was just a bad dream. But the voices got louder, and before you know it I was having a full fledged argument with the crows. I questioned the legality of their actions, but the scrawny you-know-whats continued to throw rubbish on my window. Which was quite unfortunate, as my sister's bed is right next to the window and the otherwise spick and span bed now looks worse than a rotting dumpster. After 15 minutes of swearing in multiple languages asking them to leave my window alone, the fight got violent. They brought in reinforcements.
Two more crows joined the home making activity. By now, I was totally losing it. I got out of my bed, picked up my shoe and flung it at the window. Viola! They flew away! I had won the first round of this ferocious battle! Little did I know that there was more to come...
They left me alone on Sunday. By Sunday night, I was sure those pesky paupers wouldn't return.However, Monday morning arrived. My dreadful week begun with a consistent tap tap on my window and loud kaw kaws, like the crows were jammin' on my window. And then on, we established a pattern. I would hurl a shoe at the window ( I kept a few pairs by my bedside, just so I wouldn't run out of battle Armour) and they would make sure I woke up an hour before my alarm rang. I left them all all morning, so they could dump all the garbage of the world on my window. And every evening, I destroyed the garbage palace. After a week of tough battles and creatively violent abuses (from me and the crow family), they caved in. They finally gave up the idea.My room is now crow-nest free and silent again. The shoes still lie beside my bed. You know, just in case...
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