Found this quirky table covered with one cent coins and a black and white checkered pattern. I would LOVE to have a center/dining table like this in my house.
Sometimes I wish for falling
Wish for the release
Wish for falling through the air
To give me some relief
Because falling’s not the problem
When I’m falling I’m in peace
Its only when I hit the ground
It causes all the grief
HOW DOES FLORENCE DO IT?
How does she know exactly what goes on in my head?
I used to have an emo phase. I toned it down quite a bit so I wasn’t your usual eye liner wearing, black clothes donning emo. I was smiley and sunshiny on the outside but I was pretty dark inside. Then, I grew up and had something that resembled a life but there were phases when I would revert back to my emo past. It felt good knowing that I could have another personality at arms length when I was tired of being this person that I am. But Florence makes emo look so good that I might consider it my permanent personality. Just got to dye my hair a flaming red and get Gucci to sponsor my clothes.
Why do I find doing dishes so therapeutic? It gives me a chance to think.
AM I TURNING IN TO MY MOTHER?
I find that as the days pass I can see so much of my mother in me. This is something I never expected to happen. I mean, my mother is a wonderful woman, bless her heart and I love her beyond words and everything but I never saw myself turning in to her!
I guess the older we grow, the more we mimic our parents. Especially the things we swore as a teenager to never be. Well, we have come a full circle now, haven’t we.
I know, I’m like so many days late for this blogathon. I should have ben more prepared! Scheduled posts or something but this past week, time was not on my side. I was either doing something or was too exhausted to even lift a finger. So now I’m way behind on this blogathon and I need to catch up!
I don’t have access to my computer that has pictures on it so I can’t do a picture post. I can’t think of anything thought provoking or fascinating to write about so I can’t do that either. Instead I’m going to type away on this computer.
So whats up Interwebz? How you been?
I’ve been good. University is pretty amazing. I love every bit of it, even the bits I don’t understand. Knowledge really is a wonderful thing. It makes you act differently, more responsibly, and I love that. I love listening about new things, new ideas, concepts that I’ve seen with my eyes but haven’t comprehended until now. I may be a walking, talking cliche but I love how interesting this week was.
Throughout school and college my mother would be the person to whom I would talk about my day to. I would give her the minute details of my day – what I ate, what my friends wore, what that other girl said, everything. It’s a habit that won’t wear off. Now I’ve replaced my mother with Jay and I force him to listen to what I say. Its lovely, just lovely.
I just ate a poppy seed bagel with granola peanut butter spread. I hope I don’t have bits of it when I smile at people.
Have a great day, people reading this!
“If you could only see the beast you’ve made of me
I held it in but now it seems you’ve set it running free
Screaming in the dark, I howl when we’re apart
Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart”
I might have been living under a rock for so long ’cause I’ve only recently discovered Florence + The Machine. I love how amazing she is. She might be high most of the time but I love how wild, crazy and so full of energy she is. And her clothes and flaming red hair, I WANT.
The flyer defined a stalker as someone who repeatedly approaches you even though you have denied their advances. And instantly my mind flashed to my first year of college where guys would keep calling/texting girls and intimidate them in the name of ‘ragging’. While ragging might actually be a good thing if done in good spirit, the other kind almost bordered harassment. The weird thing about this is I never realized that it was harassment until today.
Creeps would get the phone number of girls and send them anonymous text messages, blank calls, anonymous calls, etc in the hope of either starting a relationship or if that doesn’t work out, a friendship. This has happened to me and to every other friend of mine. We would brush of this kind of menace and not take it too seriously. I have an inbuilt ignoring system where once I feel uncomfortable with someone I just ignore them. This did work for me a few times but there were instances when ignoring them would send a ‘playing hard to get’ vibe.
Why did it take me so long to realize that this was harassment? And why did me and my friends never do anything about it? I thought ok, that was a phase, everyone is weird in college and they’d be done with it but no. This vacation when I was in Madras I met one of my girls who works in a top IT company. She was talking about the same kind of guys. There was a guy who would look up the bus time table and make sure he comes with her everyday even though she kept her distance, he would message her on the company’s messaging system and she would be cryptic. Then, he started calling her and texting her repeatedly although she never picked up or replied to his messages.
I’m really baffled as to why we (me included) take this kind of harassment lightly. In college I knew some girls who were flattered by this kind of attention! Guys really need to learn that there is a fine line between showing interest and harassment.
Colleges should also start some sort of student safety organisation. I always felt that my college/university made things difficult instead of easy for us. Maybe they’d change once the stop treating us like children.
The sudden stop of the plane jolted her awake. She craned her neck to look out the plane window, past the man with the greasy hair. It was still early. She could see the golden rays of the sun inching slowly through the clouds. Clouds – fluffy – white- vanilla – ice cream – Ian’s – Asl— her mind immediately made the connection. She shook her head hoping that it would empty itself of the memories.
It was half an hour before she could collect her bags. The descent from the aircraft had been uneventful. After being away for so long she expected small things to give her that spark of excitement, but no. She saw a girl who had the word fear tattooed across her arm in Italian.
“Exactly what I needed”, she whispered under her breath.
Finally, she saw the polka dotted ribbon of her suitcase. She collected her things and pushed the trolley towards the exit. The butterflies were going crazy in her stomach, a mixture of excitement and fear, of the unknown.
“Just remember its not going to be the same, Hana. Remember you can change everything about you.”
With this chorus in her heart and a prayer on her mouth she stepped out on to the busy streets of New York. It was a mixture of people and taxi cabs. Everyone was heading somewhere. Everyone had a purpose. But she was stuck to the pavement. There it was, bang opposite the airport exit – Ian’s Ice Cream Parlor written in a cheery red color. The moment she saw that, all the memories came flooding back and it took all the strength she had to move forward.
“I can make it through one day without thinking about him.” T
his was just one of the many lies she told herself to get through the day.