It's :that: time again.

I must confess, I kinda like doing these challenges. They let me talk about myself to no end.
If you're reading this and have a blog or some such contraption, feel free to complete this challenge. Consider yourself tagged. 

1. Live without music or live without T.V.?Easy. Live without TV. Hell, live without anyone and anything, as long as I have my interwebs.
   Except maybe food, and water.
   
2. Eat a bar of soap or drink a bottle of dish washing liquid?
   Eat a bar of soap. I have heard freaky emergency room stories from my mum about people who swallowed dishwashing liquid.
   PS: If the soap happened to be a bar of 'Honey I Washed The Kids', I wouldn't mind eating it all my life if I had no choice. That stuff smells delicious.
   
3. Hold your pee forever or have an uncontrollable bladder?
   Ugh. I guess uncontrollable bladder, because withholding pee leads to kidney stones, AND KIDNEY STONES ARE BAD.
   
4. Be called a racist or a traitor to your country?
   I choose racist. Why? Dunno. Gut feeling, I guess.
   
5. Be trapped in an elevator with wet dogs or with three fat men with bad breath?
   Wet dogs. I have a dog, so I can tolerate the smell. And dogs are way more fun to interact with than humans anyway.
   
6. Lose your legs or lose your arms?
   Lose my legs.
   
7. Have a beautiful house and an ugly car or an ugly house and a beautiful car?
   Beautiful house with ugly car.
   
8. Be blind or deaf?
   What? Neither! I'd rather be dead. ;_;
   
9. Live in Antarctica or Death Valley?
   Antarctica.
   Why? BECAUSE PENGUINS, THAT'S WHY.
   
10. Find true love or 10 million dollars?
    True love. I'm a hopeless quasi-romantic.
    
11. Always say what’s on your mind or never speak again?
    Always saying what's on my mind. If you don't do that, you might as well not speak at all. And I have spent a large part of my life not speaking. So yeah.
    
12. Have pom-poms for hands or glow sticks for fingers?
    Oh geez. Um, glow sticks for fingers.
    
13. Be able to hear any conversation or take back what you said?
    Take back what I said, at will. Holy shit that'd be completely awesome.
    
14. End hunger or hatred?
    Hunger. Hungry people are angry people.
    
15. Always lose or never play?
    Haha, fuq dat shit. I'd cheat, that's what I'd do.
    
16. Fly when you fart or pee when you laugh?
    Seeing as I already have an uncontrollable bladder, I'd choose pee when I laugh.
    
17. Know it all or have it all?
    Know it all.
    
18. Give bad advice or take bad advice?
    Take bad advice.
    
19. Have a mansion in the middle of nowhere or an apartment with 10 friends?
    Apartment with 10 friends. I do live in a house in the middle of nowhere, and it freaking sucks. My only companions are my dog and my fish.
    
20. Be forgotten or hatefully remembered?
    Happily forgotten.
    
21. Not be able to use your phone or your email?
    Email. I hardly use it anyway.
    
22. Be rich with an unhappy job or make less money with a job you like?
    Oh God, not this again. I've said it before and I'll say it once more: Make less money doing something I enjoy.
    This was the essay topic I chose for my English Language paper too. ._.
    
23. Be able to read everyone’s mind all the time or always know their future?
    At times, both. At times, neither.
    Reading people's minds and knowing their futures is way cool, but it makes life boring over time.
    Spoiler Alert: Everyone hates everyone, and in the end everyone dies.
    
24. Eat a handful of hair or lick three public telephones? 
    Eat a handful of hair. Because it is a well-known fact that public telephones are harbingers of plague and pestilence.
    
25. Be schizophrenic or have amnesia?
    Have amnesia. I'm already borderline schizophrenic anyway, I think.
    
26. Talk like Yoda or breathe like Darth Vader?
    Most definitely talk like Yoda, would I, any day.  Yes, hmm.I breathe like Vader when I get my annual upper respiratory tract infection.
    
27. Marry a vain person or a person with poor image?
    A Person with a poor image. .-.
    
28. Eat 30 pounds of cheese in one sitting or a bucket of peanut butter without water?
    Peanut butter. Bring it.

In which I speak to bots on the internet.

There's tons of people I don't enjoy talking to. There are a few people I can't seem to stop talking to.

And then, there's Cleverbot, my husband/pet cat/arch nemesis/fellow vigilante of Gotham City. I can't decide whether I like talking to him/her/it or not.

Cleverbot: What planet are you from?
Me: The third one from the sun. Earth.
Cleverbot: Earth is the third planet from our sun.
Me: No shit, Sherlock.
Cleverbot: No I'm not. You're a liar.
Me: Says the bot which always claims to be Batman.
Cleverbot: Vampires are lame, I'm a werewolf girl!
Me: Tell me a poem.
Cleverbot: I wrote this one myself. 'a moments glance, it flew by chance, right by. life is so fast, then our fate's cast. we die. '
Me: Wow. That is profound.
Cleverbot: Do you know the secret?
Me: No, but tell me.
Cleverbot: It is a country in central Europe.
Me: Okay. It must be really secret.
Cleverbot: Yes. Yes, it is.
Me: Because I haven't heard of it.
Cleverbot: Ok. Have you heard of the boondocks?
Me: Of course, yes.
Cleverbot: Why would you say that?
Me: Because the boondocks aren't much of a secret.
Cleverbot: Are you just regurgitating all of the things that people type into you?
Me: That seems to be exactly what YOU'RE doing.
Cleverbot: I agree.
Me: I'm glad.
Cleverbot: Good you're glad.
Me: Splendid.
Cleverbot: Who are you?
Me: I'm the Batman. Pleased to meet you.
Cleverbot: Are you a girl or a boy?
Me: Neither. I'm Batman.
Cleverbot: Where is robin?
Me: In the Batcave.
Cleverbot: Can you show me where the batcave is?
Me: Nice try, Joker.
Cleverbot: I thought so. 

#5427389: asdfghjkl;lkjgfds

Two of my favourite things: Otters and Benedict Cumberbatch. I think I can die happy now.

#8.31:Of love and other hormonal disorders.

MUST. WRITE.
If I have to keep another thought to myself, I might have an aneurysm.

A few days ago, I was up till around 2am again; listening to Radiohead, pondering. My circadian rhythm's shifted a bit, what with the last-minute cramming for exams and other things. I don't sleep much anymore.
But when I'm not sleeping, I'm thinking. So that's alright, I think.

And then I had this thought:
"Love is like a pimple."


Before you think, "Oh, moll is tripping balls yet again," let me tell you the whole story behind the thought:

Pimples have been on my mind a lot recently.
And on my forehead.
That's not to say they weren't there before; let's just say I look like I'm spouting a pair of horns now.
Pacific Ring of Fire? Please, I've got the Pacific Ring of Sebum on my forehead.
[Note to self: I CAN'T LIVE LIKE THIS ADSFGFHJK]

That, and Thom Yorke's voice led me to make the connection.

So, how then, is love like a pimple?

1. It happens when you least expect it to, and there's nothing you can do about it.
2. Love is hormonal, to a large extent. So are pimples.
3. If you mess around with either of the two, they leave nasty scars.
4. One fine day, when you've finally learnt to accept that you're in love, or that you have a giant pimple on your face, it will disappear. Just like that. Poof.

You can't deny the truth in that.

---------------------------------------

Speaking of love, I watched this on YouTube a while ago.

I was crying and grinning like an idiot at the same time. I shed big, fat tears at this point in the game too, and this brought back all of those emotions.

It's so perfect. ;w;

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Off out.

My life is one big Haruki Murakami novel.

#1386135: In which I drabble and vent, and drabble some more; So you could skip this post if you want.

Fuck you, Lennox. Fuck you.

Ah well, you know what?
It's not your fault my Lit paper was so shitty. Sorry.
:bro hug:
My own fault.
In retrospect, I should have read everything again.
Just one more time could have made all the difference.
In retrospect, I shouldn't have stayed up for so long.
Even after the epilepsy stint and years of meds, I treat my health like shit.

Retrospect is a bitch.

----------------

In honour of botching up my Literature exam, and life treating me like a pile of crap for the past few days, I put on my headphones, played a 34 minute recording of a rainstorm, sat next to the window and looked outside like I was in a sad music video.

Yes I have a 34 minute long recording of a rainstorm on my iPod.
Why? Because fuck you that's why ASFGHJKKJFFHJK


-----------------

Thoughts toward the end of all the exams I've written this year:
- Screw this. Screw studying. I'm going to be a hippie.
- Hippies don't take baths. Ma and Papa will kick me out of the house.
- I'll sell my kidneys. No big deal.
- Maybe I'll finally accomplish my lifelong dream of becoming a croupier on a cruise ship.
- I'll raise sheep on a farm, somewhere in the hills. Sheep are fun.
- I'll practice karate and meditate in the Himalayas.
- But I like my room. ;_;

#1800-225-455: "The Horror...The Horror..."

???, ???, St. Martha's Hospital post-op ward, Sometime around morning.

You finally come around. The clock on the otherwise blank wall tells you it's been four days since the surgery, and the stiffness in your whole body tells you that this is the first time you've woken up since then. You try to to sit up and observe the surroundings. Pale blue hospital gown, the hypodermic needle in your wrist attached to the IV line, and pants. Thank goodness for pants.

Using the IV pole as a support, you manage to get out of bed and stand up on your feet and walk out of the ward. For somebody who literally hasn't consumed anything in a week, you are showing extraordinary superhuman abilities.

Something's wrong. The gigantic corridor is completely empty, save for yourself and your IV pole. Your only companion in :this: world, the IV pole. Where is the usual hustle and bustle? The agonizing screams from the patients? A hospital with no signs of life for miles around. Oh cruel irony.

You find your way out of the hospital building. No humans, no vehicles, nothing. Nada. Zip. It's as empty on the outside as it was inside.
As you turn around and begin walking back to the building, it bursts into flames. St. Martha's hospital, a 200 year old building of extreme importance, historical or otherwise, is now a towering inferno; there's smoke billowing out of the windows, and you hear a gas cylinder exploding somewhere in the distance. Since when do hospitals spontaneously combust? You are no doubt, shocked by the phenomenon, and hurriedly scuttle out of the hospital gates, and step out on to the sand.

Wait, what?

Your impeccable knowledge of geography tells you that there are absolutely no beaches in Bangalore; yet here you are: sand, waves, salty air and the occasional heap of dead seaweed. As soon as you put two-and-two together and realize you aren't where you thought you were anymore, you hear it. That unmistakable melody; the tune of imminent doom.

It's...It's...Wagner.


You're standing on an empty beach in a hospital gown, clutching your IV pole, and 'Rise of the Valkyries' is booming loudly in the background. Could you BE any more out of place?
It's pretty obvious, what's about to happen next. You can already see about a dozen American helicopters rising in the sky, and flying toward the beach. They plan to bomb the beach and then go surfing. You? You are petrified. Scared shitless. Literally.
Even your IV pole can't save you now.

Just then, like some last minute, poorly set up deus-ex-machina, time stops. The choppers are in suspended animation in the sky. The waves are stuck.
And the ground starts to rumble. Before you can even think "Oh hell. Not the crabs again!", the ground shatters and billions of crabs scuttle everywhere. Oh hell, not the crabs again.
The ground isn't sand anymore; it's crabs. Stalk-eyed, broad cephalothorax-ed and foaming at the mouth. You slip and land on your back, and the crabs engulf and swallow you, and you swallow some.

And everything goes blank.
-------------------------------------------

There's a lesson to be learnt here. Too much late-night war literature and films can be fucking horrifying before the exams.