Talk about vindictiveness.

In Sleeping Beauty, the one fairy that wasn't invited to the ceremony gatecrashed the party and cursed the princess to fall asleep after pricking herself on a spinning wheel and remain asleep, until she received true love's kiss.
Wow.

"If any of my present buddies don't invite me to their weddings and their children's birthday parties, I will curse their first born children."
That sounds so messed up.
The fact that these tales we listen to as children, are in fact wildly inappropriate, not the buddies getting married and having children bit.
Well, to be honest, that sounds pretty messed up too.

And not to plunge myself into the endless circle jerk that is true love, but really? She's been asleep for her entire teenage life in a tower that's surrounded by a practically impenetrable hymen of thorny vines and the like. And the prince has never even seen her. He travels all the way to wake her and suddenly, it's true love.
If you ask me, that's borderline rape.

Meh.

My brother hates Instagram.

That's right. He hates Instagram.

And with good reason too; not just because that's the opinion of the Internet Hivemind, or just to piss me off (I use the Instagram app on my phone like it's nobody's business, taking pictures of ridiculous things.)
And maybe, just maybe, I'm starting to agree with him.
According to him, the only way people can enjoy a good meal at a restaurant anymore is through the cellphone camera. If you haven't taken a picture and Instagrammed it then suddenly your meal isn't worth it anymore. And what is the deal with taking a perfectly clear picture of anything, and then applying a gritty yellow filter to it in order for it to be artsy? It's ridiculous.
And the hashtag rape on all the photos. Ugh.

Sometimes I think he is the only sensible person in this entire household. Heck, I know it.

And the same goes with any of the existing forms of social networking that people use today. Everyone has turned into an all-out, unabashed social media junkie.
Not long ago, a friend of mine admonished me (via text) for not peppering my text messages with enough emoticons. Another time, I got yelled at by another friend (in person) for not 'liking' any of her deep, insightful facebook posts.
These are the things we complain about now.
I suppose every generation has it's 'thing'. The 70s had disco, we have Instagram.

Obligatory Louis CK:

Clearly, times have changed. Not long ago, taking photos was a somewhat meaningful activity. As far as my family goes, we only took the camera out only for birthdays, or when we went on picnics and long trips. And I wasn't allowed anywhere near it, of course. Rolls and rolls of film would be submitted for developing into photos, and out of all of them, only a few would make it into an album.
Now, well, we don't have to lug the chunky Yashica around anymore when we travel, but suddenly the whole sacred ritual of taking photos has become pointless. "Oh, look! A wonderful sunset! I'll take a picture of it with my cellphone, add a fake edit to it so it looks grainy and vintage, and upload it to Instagram." Thing is, millions of people around the world are doing the very same thing, so your meaningful sunset is gone, lost in an endless sea of meaningful sunsets. Not so meaningful now, is it?

To quote from an article I was reading while I wrote this:

"We're drowning in a sea of photos and I think our ability to filter the good from the bad almost disappears. Why else do I see people sharing photos of their dinner every day? There are only so many ways you can to take a photo of sandwich you and a billion other people had for lunch. Would anyone care?

The urge to share things comes from human nature, but the uncurated photos we send out every day make us all less interested in them. Sadly, this applies even to the ones which are worth the time to look at. We feel the need to 'contribute' constantly, so we end up taking hundreds of photos and sharing them on Instagram to fill the void and feel, just for a moment, that we’ve made an impression."

Instagram may be a pointless activity to a lot of people. But 'being pointless' never stopped anyone from doing anything, ever. I will continue to take pictures of ridiculous things. My brother hates Instagram, not me.
But I do recognize that I have a problem, and I'll do my best not to get overwhelmingly obsessed with the whole thing. There are tv shows meant specifically for that purpose.

Hi. I am Snickerdoodle. I am a social media junkie. It has been 4 days since my last tweet and 2 days since my last post on Instagram.

Of Change, and Other Things.

Leaves are falling all around, It's time I was on my way. 
Thanks to you, I'm much obliged for such a pleasant stay.


To me, the whole of last week has been about overwhelming change; about transitioning from one world to another. I even graduated (And I will write a meaningful post about that soon), among many other things.

That's it. I've decided. "Ramble On" is the current theme song to my life. It perfectly describes my sentiments about the whole brouhaha that my mind has been for a while now.

Which brings me to the point of this post. It's 2 am on a Tuesday morning, and while I should be asleep like everyone else, I'm not. I usually make important life decisions around this time. I feel like I should do this right now, lest I end up changing my mind about it later.

As of today, "Fluorescent Adolescent 2.0" is now "Keep Calm and Ramble On."


So it's a small change of name. For a blog, even. Why am I making such a big deal about it?
Thing is, I started this blog sometime back in early 2007. Back then, it was called "The Suckish Life of a 7th Grader", and I used it to rant about school, math, and other people and things. Over the years, it changed to "Fluorescent Adolescent 2.0", and now I'm changing the name again.

It's always been just this one tiny blog. So, in a way, this blog has watched me grow: from a precocious 12-year old ranting about anime and school, to, well, whatever it is that I've turned out to be today. I treat it like a sentient entity. It grows and changes as I grow and change.
In some odd way, this blog is sort of like my Grecian Urn; even though all those rants have long since been deleted (And thank goodness for that), the memories still remain.


So yeah, all that.

For inspirational purposes, here is a picture of a ridiculous otter.

Obligatory Journal Post #01101010

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen...:blah blah:... you look wonderful in your suits and sarees this evening :blahblahetc:.."

I'm willing to bet a good box of orange tic tacs that somebody is going to say that at Valedictory this Saturday.

Which brings me to the point of this blog post: I'm graduating this Saturday!
:Yay, woohoo, tears et al:

Really. No sarcasm and all. Full enthu is coming.
Fourteen years. Fourteen phenomenal, fucking wonderful years I've spent here, and now, I'm finally being kicked out into the big, bad world to tackle whatever shenanigans life throws at me. Full nostalgia trippage is happening.
:sniffle:

As with most things, the preparation for the actual event is more overwhelming than the actual event itself.
All around me everyone is doing their darn best to look amazing for valedictory. I hear talk of crash diets, and starving, among other things.
Me? I'm sitting on my bum watching Desperate Housewives on tv and drinking my weight in mango juice.

Living the dream, folks.

"Don't get sentimental, it always ends up drivel."

You take your usual seat by the window, headphones and all.

The big red bus ambles along the road, and then halts at a traffic signal. You gaze fixedly out the bus window, at the next lane.
Bikes and cars flit endlessly across it.
You spot something hovering above the lane. It's a butterfly.
A big, butterfly; with wings striped a black and bright orange. A Monarch.
Of course, you christen it Madame Butterfly.

Madame Butterfly hovers over the road, dodging the endless volley of vehicles.
She performs an intricate ballet, pirouetting around each bike. Twirl, twirl, flip.
She dances the Danse Macabre as if she's done so all her precious little life.
You smile to yourself. Your heart has formed an unspoken bond with Madame Butterfly already.

Suddenly, Madame Butterfly falters.
She got too carried away.
A misstep.
A stumble.
One
Tiny
Slip-up.

A bike collides with Madame Butterfly, as you watch in horror.
Her wing is broken.
Her spirit, wounded.
She quietly falls to the ground, with the grace of a dead leaf.
Wings twitch, legs are going.
No sooner does she touch the ground, than three vehicles run over her body in quick succession.
Madame Butterfly is dead.
Crushed like a bug in the ground.


The bus starts to move.
Macklemore is playing on your iPod. Otherside.

She never got up, she never got up

We live on the cusp of death thinkin' that it won't be us

It won't be us

It won't be us

It won't be us

A tiny part of you died with Madame Butterfly that day.

Mogadishu.

Backstory: At 1:30am this morning, when the whole world was fast asleep, I was supposed to be studying for a certain literature exam.

And then a friend sent me this picture.

I'll admit I laughed at this way more, and way louder than I should.

HAI SPD.

Weekend Update. Just not as hilarious as SNL.

This past week has been very eventful, to say the least.


Sony stopped manufacturing the PlayStation 2 sometime last week.
A moment of silence, please.
:'Amazing Grace' on bagpipes plays in the background; tears etc.:
The most successful gaming console of all time, the ps2 also has the sole distinction of being the only gaming console that I own. Many summers were spent sitting in front of the TV, armed with my trusty controller, perfecting my backhand and my Kamehameha. It seems as if it was only yesterday that I beat everyone else's ass at Budokai Tenkaichi 3 and Sega Tennis, and failed miserably at God of War and FIFA '11. But, no matter how terrible a gamer I might be, the ps2 shall always hold a special place in my heart.
Thanks for the memories. ;_;

I also decided that I'd had enough of botany for a lifetime and had an impromptu coming-of-age movie marathon, starting with The Breakfast Club and The Graduate, and ending in a big, sobbing mess of tears and feelings. God. See what trying to live out your entire teenage life through movies in a single day does to you?
One of the movies watched that day was 'The Perks of Being a Wallflower', based on the book of the same name. I'd read the book sometime in 11th std. (Yes, 'std.'. Not grade. Yuck. 'Grade' feels so pretentious.)
It was a nice read, and I'll admit it got me through some pretty bad times. It's in the form of letters to an unnamed girl from a boy who calls himself Charlie. The book is about, well, high school, growing up, relationships, friends, the whole shebang.
It references Catcher in the Rye, The Smiths, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, and the scene with them dancing to "Come on Eileen" is hilarious.
You ever get the feeling a movie was custom made just to suit your likes and dislikes? Throughout the movie, I was thinking, "Holy shit. Catcher in the Rye, The Smiths AND The Rocky Horror Picture Show in a single movie. This is actually happening. Woooow."
Besides all that, the movie was quite alright. It's a good adaptation of the book. Full of quotable quotes. I liked it, somewhat better than the book in fact. The characters really came to life in the movie, and Ezra Miller was completely awesome as Patrick.

Okay, I'll go now. Botany is the devil incarnate. I'm pretty sure that in the depths of hell, there exists a hellhound with each of its heads named Holard, Echard and Chresard.


Edit: I made a playlist! Check it or so help me God I'll eat you  :]
Edit #2: 100th post! Woohoo!

.

Here I sit, on the front porch of my house, dreaming about, well, nothing.

The dog is basking in the sun, which gleams, with a sort of vengeance, through the leaves of a tree, throwing myriad shapes on his back.
The cycle sits patiently in a corner, waiting to be taken out for a ride.
And the sky. Wow, the sky. It's a bold, bright blue and completely devoid of any clouds.
A motorcycle rolls by somewhere.
Silence.

Summer seems to have set in, way, WAY too early. I won't even bother trying to study.
Gah. I wish I had a lawn and a sprinkler.
Or a pool.
Or a beach.
This weather is perfect.

Obligatory Journal Post- The Return: Limerence is a funny thing.

“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.”

-Neil Gaiman.

Earlier today, I was clumsily browsing tumblr, and my dashboard was mostly full of posts about love, and heartbreak; the whole shebang.
One thing led to another, and I clicked the 'Unrequited Love' tag.

Wow. Just, wow. I have no words.

There were thousands and thousands of posts, and all of them from different people, pining away for somebody they could never have.

It's heartbreaking, the thought that such a massive part of the general population is always in the throes of a love so... unrequited. The survey people should conduct a worldwide study to give us an estimate of the number of hearts being broken per day. I'm pretty sure the number would be staggeringly huge.
In fact, there's even a neat sounding word for the feeling:
"Limerence: an involuntary state of mind which results from a romantic attraction to another person combined with an overwhelming, obsessive need to have one's feelings reciprocated."

Everyone's well-acquainted with limerence, there's no denying it. When you fall head over heels for someone, their every aspect seems to complement yours in one way or another. You think you both are a perfect fit for each other. A match made in heaven, and all that. You are the sambar to his idly vada, you are the orange tic tacs to her Mollika, that sort of thing.
I, for one, cannot imagine my life without orange tic tacs, or idly vada without sambar. It just DOES NOT SEEM RIGHT.
Therefore, one can imagine how painful it is to watch your 'perfect fit' happy with somebody else, apart from yourself. Pow, right in the feelings, if you ask me.

I suddenly found myself feeling horrible for all those people posting on there. Thousands of people I've never known, and never will. You guys, my heart goes out to all of you.
And it's not like I'm pining away for lost love or anything myself, either.

Gah. This empathy shit is killing me.

Slam Book Survey Thingie 2: Electric Boogaloo.

I got 99 problems, and these were all of them!

Writing this damn thing was like writing my English Literature paper. At first I'll start off all awesome with an epic essay, and from there the whole paper turns to shit. -.-
You guys are welcome to complete this challenge if you want. In fact, I dare you to. I dare all of you to.

Gah. I'm bored.

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

1:6 of the songs you listen to most?

In no particular order:

• White Winter Hymnal- Fleet Foxes.
• No Buses- Arctic Monkeys.
• There is a Light That Never Goes Out- The Smiths.
• The Battle of Evermore- Led Zeppelin.
• Fake Plastic Trees- Radiohead
• You Make My Dreams Come True- Hall and Oates

2:If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?
Neil Gaiman and Amanda Palmer, and Louis C.K., among others. But mostly them.

3:Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.
"Before he left, Jose Arcadio Buendia buried the spear in the courtyard and, one after the other, he cut the throats of his magnificent fighting cocks, trusting that in that way he could give some measure of peace to Prudencio Aguilar."

-One Hundred Years of Solitude.

4:What do you think about most?
Oh, you know. Stuff. My future, Joseph Gordon Levitt etc.

5:What does your latest text message from someone else say?
How considerate :P my gratitude is inexpressible

6:Do you sleep with or without clothes on?
With clothes on. But I am known to sleep on the floor without a shirt on, occasionally. .-.

7:What’s your strangest talent?
I...I don't know. I'm talentless.
Well, I guess I have a talent for recalling really, REALLY random, uncanny facts and incidents from memory.

8:Girls… (finish the sentence); Boys… (finish the sentence)

"Boys fuck things up. Girls are fucked up. That’s the difference. Boys just do damage to your house that you can measure in dollars, like a hurricane. Girls, like, leave scars in your psyche that you find later, like a genocide... That’s the difference between boys and girls. And it becomes the difference between men and women, really. A man will, like, steal your car or burn your house down or beat the shit out of you, but a woman will ruin your fuckin’ life. Do you see the difference? Like, a man will cut your arm off and throw it in a river, but he’ll leave you as a human being intact. He won’t fuck with who you are. Women are nonviolent, but they will shit inside of your heart."

- Louis C. K.

Every time I read Girls this and Boys that etc. anywhere, this monologue comes to mind. Louis C. K. is fucking amazing.

9:Ever had a poem or song written about you?
Oh, dozens. Of the "Roses are red, Violets are blue..." subcategory. Nothing like, concrete or anything.

10:When is the last time you played the air guitar?
Today morning, in the shower, when I was jamming to Kenny Rogers.
Don't judge.

11:Do you have any strange phobias?
I have an irrational fear of fish heads. They're a delicacy where I'm from, and so forth. But when my food has a face, and that too of a cooked fish I will scoot as far away from the dining table as possible.

12:Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?
Yes. I was 3. Waddling around the house, and I found a HUGE bit of melted candlewax. So naturally, 3 year old me stuck it up her nose.
I don't remember much, but I do recall cold steel tweezers, dazzling pain and an angry lady who resembled my mum.

13:What’s your religion?
Technically Hindu, but I don't practice it. So, Agnostic.

14:If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?
Walking around the city, and cycling on empty roads late at night.

15:Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?
Behind it. My face breaks cameras.

16:Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?
GAH! I listen to a lot of Radiohead, Led Zeppelin, Arctic Monkeys, Franz Ferdinand et al. I also listen to a lot of Girls' Generation. :P
So it's all just bands I listen to most, no favourite and all.

17:What was the last lie you told?
I wrote the student editorial article, it's just at home.

18:Do you believe in karma?
Yeah, to an extent. What goes around comes around, that sort of thing. 

19:What does your URL mean?
stfumolly expands to "Shut the Fuck Up, Molly". I'm Molly. Pretty self-explanatory.

20:What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?
Weakness: A dangerously low self esteem and a plethora of trust issues.
Strength: My sense of humour.

21:Who is your celebrity crush?
Hahah, celebrity :crush: it seems. Joseph Gordon Levitt. Tina Fey. Chris O'Dowd. Christina Hendricks. Benedict Cumberbatch. Alexander Skarsgard. Edward Norton. Need I go on?

22:Have you ever gone skinny dipping?
Of course, yes.

23:How do you vent your anger?
I cuss like a sailor. I write. I listen to Radiohead. I cry.

24:Do you have a collection of anything?
Posters, pokemon cards, stickers, text messages. That sort of thing.

25:Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?
I don't prefer one over another, but I talk over the phone more often.

26:Are you happy with the person you’ve become?
I'm never, ever happy with the way I am. At the age of 10, I thought I'd be awesome at 12. At 12, I hated myself and thought I'd be awesome at 16. I'm going to be 18 in 2 weeks. This doesn't feel right at all.

"And in my mind
I imagine so many things
Things that aren't really happening
And when they put me in the ground

I'll start pounding the lid,
Saying, "I haven't finished yet,
I still have a tattoo to get,
That says, 'I'm living in the moment'".

And it's funny how I imagined 
That I could win this win-less fight
Maybe it isn't all that funny
That I've been fighting all my life
But maybe I have to think it's funny
If I want to live before I die
And maybe it's funniest of all
To think I'll die before I actually
See
That I am exactly the person that I want to be."

27:What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?
I loathe the screech of chalk on a blackboard, and the sound of people throwing up. I love the sound of popcorn popping in the microwave, the tap-tap of keyboards, and the shower running.

28:What’s your biggest “what if”?
What if I got stuck in one place for my entire life, living the sedentary life I promised myself I never would?

29:Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?
Yes, and yes. I refuse to believe that we're the only life forms that exist out there. It's bullshit.

30:Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.
Right: Blanket.
Left: Nothing.

31:Smell the air. What do you smell?
Nothing extraordinary.

32:What’s the worst place you have ever been to?
Tirupati. Place of worship. I should have known. Yuuuuck.

33:Choose: East Coast or West Coast?
India? West Coast!

34:Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?
Andy Samberg.

35:To you, what is the meaning of life?
Honestly, I have no inkling as to why I'm here. But the fact of the matter is that I am here, so the answer must be out there somewhere.

36:Define Art.
Wolfram Alpha defines art as "the creation of beautiful or significant things". I'll go with that.

37:Do you believe in luck?
Of course, yes. Just that I never seem to have any, ever.

38:What’s the weather like right now?
Sunny.

39:What time is it?
3 pm.

40:Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?
No, I don't drive. Yes, I have crashed.

41:What was the last book you read?
"The Happy Prince and Other Tales", by Oscar Wilde. Particularly the story of the Nightingale and The Rose. That story hits me hard right in the feelings. ;_;

42:Do you like the smell of gasoline?
Nah, not really. That smell is so overrated.

43:Do you have any nicknames?
Moll, Molly, Mollywobbles, Molecules, Medusa etc.

44:What was the last film you saw?
The Big Lebowski. And ever since I did, I've just been watching Gutterballs over and over again and jamming to Kenny Rogers.

45:What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?
Well, I was running around school and fell down, and this girl fell on top of me. And I developed acute appendicitis. That counts, yes?

46:Have you ever caught a butterfly?
Yeah.

47:Do you have any obsessions right now?
The Fleet Foxes. And askreddit.

48:What’s your sexual orientation?
Straight.

49:Ever had a rumour spread about you?
Not that I know of, none.

50:Do you believe in magic?
“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” - Arthur C. Clarke.

51:Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?
Nah. The people involved aren't usually worth holding grudges against.

52:What is your astrological sign?
A true blue Scorpio. Or so, some say.

53:Do you save money or spend it?
I spend. Like crazy. It's not cool.

54:What’s the last thing you purchased?
My bus ticket.

55:Love or lust?
LOOOOVE.

56:In a relationship?
Noope.

57:How many relationships have you had?
Like, one-ish.

58:Can you touch your nose with your tongue?
No. :[

59:Where were you yesterday?
Mostly at chemistry tuition, and then at a Chinese restaurant.

60:Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?
Pink Fight Club poster, pink Powerpuff Girls poster, pink post-it notes.

61:Are you wearing socks right now?
No.

62:What’s your favourite animal?
I like all animals. Tralala.
But otters mostly.

63:What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?
I don't have any secret weapon. Either they like me, or they don't.

64:Where is your best friend?
One's at some tuition, another is sleeping at home, and yet another is over a thousand miles away from me.

65:Give me your top 5 favourite blogs on Tumblr.

66:What is your heritage?
East Bengal-West Bengal hybrid bong.

67:What were you doing last night at 12AM?
Reading fanfiction in the dark.

68:What do you think is Satan’s last name?
Newell. Give us Portal 3, dammit!

69:Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?

Yeah. I'm only human.

70:Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?
I don't set parameters for the kind of friends I'd like to have. But sure, I'd totally be friends with a person like myself.

71:You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?
DOG! HOLD ON! :throws clothes off, jumps into canal and saves dog:
Plot Twist: Dog's owner turns out to be Boss, and we become BFFs.

72:You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?
a) I'd tell a few people.
b) I guess I'd live out my days doing what made me happy.
c) Yes, I would be afraid. Everyone who says they aren't afraid of dying is a big, fat liar.

73:You can only have one of these things; trust or love.
Trust all the way. Yes, I am a hopeless quasi-romantic, but love without any trust? Really?

74:What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?
Ukelele Anthem- Amanda Palmer, Airbrushed- Anamanaguchi, Brimful of Asha- Cornershop.

75:What are the last four digits in your cell phone number?
3588.

76:In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?
Trust. Common interests. The ability to make awkward silences not seem awkward. Never running of things to talk about.
Etc.

77:How can I win your heart?
Be into the same bizzarro crap as myself. Beat me at a game of DDR. Put forth relevant points to the "Iron Man vs. Batman" debate. Either I will hate you or love you from the bottom of my heart. :P

78:Can insanity bring on more creativity?
"Ya da obviously it can"- Sripradha.

79:What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?
To not go to Deeksha post-10th standard to study. Yeah.

80:What size shoes do you wear?
Seven.

81:What would you want to be written on your tombstone?
"Died living in the moment".

82:What is your favourite word?
Infundibulum.

83:Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.
GO PLANET! ALL YOUR POWERS COMBINED I AM CAPTAIN PLANET
CAPTAIN PLANET
HE'S THE HEEERO
GONNA TAKE POLLUTION
DOWN TO ZEEEERO

84:What is a saying you say a lot?
"Don't judge me!"

85:What’s the last song you listened to?
Lonely Boy- The Black Keys.
OHH WHOA OHHH I GOT THE LOVE THAT KEEPS ME WAIITING  :3

86:Basic question; what’s your favourite colour/colours?
Blue and orange. I liked them long before Portal was out.

87:What is your current desktop picture?
Screencap of the dance scene from Pulp Fiction.

88:If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?
I can't think of anyone right now. :|

89:What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on?
What my internet escapades consist of.

90:One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?
Que sera sera. I'm not sticking around to find out.

91:You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?
Shapeshifting. Or apparating. Yeah okay, I'm a big fan of Mystique's family's superpowers, so what.

92:You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?
Any instance from the summer of 2011, before my best friend moved away.

93:You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?
My best friend's mother's death.
We were in school when we heard the news. She'd had a heart attack in her sleep. It felt like a tight slap in the face from reality. It's like, you know a person really well and speak to them often, and it feels like you're going to be able to talk to them and see them for the rest of your life. And then one day, that person is gone. Wiped out of existence. You're never going to see them again. 
Reality stings really hard.
We ran from school to the funeral, and we just stood there, held each other and cried and cried. I hadn't seen my friend in a long while, and when I finally got to see her, it was like this. 

94:You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?

Andy Samberg >.>

95:You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?
Corfu, Greece.

96:Do you have any relatives in jail?
Not that I know of, no.

97:Have you ever thrown up in the car?
Oh yeah.

98:Ever been on a plane?
Nope.

99:If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?
O HAI YOUZ

That sinking feeling...

Summer, 2000.

It had been 3 days since the torture began.
You couldn't stand it anymore; the screaming, the crying, the god-awful smell of chlorinated water and your fuhrer-esque father yelling at you from the other end of the pool.

"Swim, goddamn you!"

Easier said than done.
You knew what to do; Papa had shown you a dozen times, but when it boiled down to actually doing it you were hopeless.
All the other days were the same: You would cling to Papa and scream like the traumatized five-year old that you were. By the end of the lesson, he would be covered in red scratch marks and you would be howling to go home as soon as possible.

You were always such a drama queen.

Deciding that you'd had enough of this madness, you climbed out of the pool, half-sobbing and hiccuping.
"Swimming. Who needs it? I'll just never go near water ever again," you thought to yourself.

Meanwhile, Papa followed you out of the pool, dragged you over to the deep end, and flung you into it, without any warning.
There was a big splash, and then utter silence. Everything around you went hazy, and you could feel the water closing in on you as you sank. For some reason, you tried to breathe, and swallowed a big gulp of chlorine water.

Was this it? Was this how it was all going to end?
I could see it clearly:
"In memory of Snickerdoodle, who departed this life on the 5th of May, 2000, while learning to swim at the local pool, aged all of 5 years. All she got was this lousy epitaph."

And then, out of a fit of desperation from not wanting to die yet, you shut your eyes tight and started flailing frantically. You had absolutely no idea what you were doing, and you wouldn't know until later, but it was working! You continued thrashing around until your head hit the side of the pool, and you caught hold of the bar.
Between hysterically sobbing and coughing up copious amounts of water, you managed to yell out. "I hate you, Papa!" at the top of your lungs.

Papa bought you a celebratory orange popsicle on the way home.

12 years down the line, you realize you never thanked him for either.

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

Does a baby bird thank its Dad for teaching it to fly? I highly doubt it. As soon as it learns, it's gone, never to return.
I guess Bird Dad doesn't hold it against him.
Baby Bird is eternally grateful to Bird Dad, and Bird Dad, just like any other Dad, in his mysterious way of knowing things, just knows.

I am not a radish.

A few days ago, while sitting in class and talking of inconsequential things between mouthfuls of someone's lunch, the subject of crying came up. One thing led to another, and everyone's most depressing experiences were being shared. I, not being one to contribute to such conversations with ease, just shut up and listened to everyone else.
"You know Snickerdoodle, I've never seen you cry before. I mean, everyone else here I've seen, but not you," says one girl.
An awkward silence ensues, followed by some awkward laughing.
What I find funny about this entire ordeal is that just the day before, I shut myself in my room, put on Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind [Which, according to a friend, is a movie people such as myself would particularly like. I don't know what he meant.], and had a good, long cry about everything in general.
A catharsis of sorts.

:Some: people seem to think that I'm some confident, feeling-less, chilled out sonofabitch.
I'm quite curious as to where they get this idea from.
Truth be told, I'm an emotionally volatile mess. I take the stupidest of things too seriously. Usually by the end of a week I'm ready to burst from all the repressed anger, tears and bile. And I'm especially secretive about these things.
But people need to stop assuming that just because I don't make a public display of my emotions, that I'm an emotionless, sarcastic piece of shit. Heck, for a while I had started to believe it too.

I may be sarcastic.
I may be a piece of shit.
I most likely will not tell you even if I feel like I've sunk to the lowest of the low.
But I am not emotionless. Just because I don't cry in public, does not make me a radish.

My blog consists mostly, if not only of various rants, chronicles of dreams and Bukowski.

I only recently started reading Bukowski's poems, and I have enjoyed everything- well, most everything I've read so far. I love the gloomy, bitter, deadpan cynicism of it all.
Here's looking at you, you wonderful, cranky old drunk man. :hat-tip:

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

Reading Murakami, Bukowski, Sylvia Plath, Vonnegut et al.
I can almost imagine an older version of myself, reading this blog after a long time and thinking to herself what a pretentious little asshat she used to be. -.-

More Bukowski?

Returned home to this piece of awesomeness.

 

As far as cake icing messages go, this one :cough: takes the cake.

Merely Speculation.

You just stick to your kpop and radiohead, and watch the world pass you by. Never change.

"Stay the same, never change"?
That, in my opinion, is the most terrifying thing to write in anyone's yearbook. Why would anyone wish that for a person? The last thing I would like to remain is a stupid, hormonal and possibly borderline schizophrenic individual.

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

Everything I've done so far has just been a passing phase. I've eventually lost interest in it, and never thought about that thing again. Is the entirety of life just a bunch of phases? Am I just going to lose interest in any, or all the choices I make in the future? I suppose so.

In the end, what differentiates one's life from another is how much more anal retentive is one person than the other. How much longer we can hold on to a choice and base our lives upon it.
The ability to move from one choice to another is what keeps us alive. The moment we lose interest in everything, we're considered dead, I guess.

31st May 2012, AM 08:00:00

It's been a year since I wrote that post about what I imagined my new class'd be like.

Time flies like a banana. No wait, wait. I messed that line up. Goddammit.

Mind-numbing jokes aside, the last year did pass by at an unfathomable speed. Suddenly I'm in my last year of school, doing exactly what most people my age do.

Accurate gif is accurate.

To be honest, the 8 year old me never thought she'd make it this far. I always assumed I'd be dead before I reached 12th std. Or possibly off in some remote hamlet, fishing and not going to school.

[Dear 8 year old self: Ha ha ha, in your stupid little face.]

Ah, school. Turns out I wasn't wrong about them being an elite club of social outcasts and cocky cocks. But there's so much more to them than that. We are your basic ragtag band of adventurers with unclear goals and good hearts. Sure, we do get on each other's nerves far too often, but ultimately everybody gets along and the day is saved.

We're all probably a bunch of supers in disguise. No kidding.

I was completely wrong about 11th being the doldrums of quizzing. In fact, last year was the best year in terms of quizzing for me. "Quizzer Girl" nickname retained? I think so.

I've been picked up from my comfort zone and flung far away from it, quite literally. The equations here are much harder, and so are the chairs. But it's still difficult to believe I'm in 12th. I'm in 12th. I'm in 12th!

This is all very weird and uncomfortable.

From the journal of a recovering addict.

My mum took away my internet connection.
She hid it from me.
[As if anyone can 'hide' anything from me.]

Funny thing is, I don't miss it.
Good riddance, Tata photon. Your internet speeds were practically deathlike anyway.

And in all honesty, I've never felt this liberated since that moment after I finished writing the last Hindi exam that I would ever take, over an year ago.
Picture Andy crawling out of the filthy sewers of Shawshank and feeling the rain on his skin for the first time, in a long time. Yeah, THAT liberating.

What perplexes me is how in the world did I let social networking take over my life. I find myself incessantly checking Facebook for any update from hundreds of :friends: I hardly know, let alone care about, in the real world.
The things that people will post on there could make the IQ of an entire street drop by a dozen points. No wonder that website is few steps away from becoming the next Internet Rape Machine [The pioneer being Myspace.com.]
And yet, it had come to point where I HAD to know what everyone had for breakfast that morning, or where so-and-so vacationed, and what they ate there.

Morrissey sums it aptly in the lyric:
"In my life
Why do I give valuable time
To people who don't care if I live or die ?
...
In my life
Why do I smile
At people who I'd much rather kick in the eye ?"

All the Facebook friend bashing aside, I would :proudly: like to admit that I haven't opened the laptop in about a week. Which is awesome, considering the obscene amount of time I spend in front of it everyday.
And sure, I can easily access the Internet from my phone. But the speed is so, so slow that I've just stopped giving a damn anymore.

I'll take my leave now. The outside world beckons.



Sent from my iPhone