(it's rly bad, but just some silly metro timepass!)
Lighten up, let go of your worries
It'll all happen in time, there are no hurries
Cheer up, smile and have a good time
But nothing seems right when I can't rhyme
The rhythm of the music, the beat of the song
Doesn't make me feel a thing, it's been so loonng...
A thing of beauty gives a joy so pale
Time after time, I just fail, fail, FAIL
The noise and the chatter feel so quiet and dull
Keep accumulating, but never feel full
Cribbing and crying are new entertainment
My life's slipping by, moment by moment
My empty head, my empty head
It couldn't be worse if I was dead
Struggling through quicksand that isn't even there
I've become so dumb and delirious, it isn't even fair
The same old words, the same old lines
I'm going quietly crazy, don't even know the signs
Done all the games and laughter, 20 times over
Minute by minute, lower and lower
Scattered dreams, and nothing ever comes closer
Not hard to believe, but damn! I feel like such a loser
Miss my love, and I miss my smile
Missing and missing is nothing but futile
My empty head, my empty head
Cut me apart, I'd rather be dead
Walk all over me, and I wouldn't mind
Have nothing to lose, and nothing I can find
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Uncomfortably Happy
It's easy to be cynical. It's easy to go on and on about how sad you feel and all that you find wrong with this world.
But it takes a lot to stand up and acknowledge how glad you are to be here, to have all that you have to do, and a lot more to look forward to.
For the past few days, I've been very happy, very very happy... for some reason, or none at all!
And yet I haven't been able to come up with a decent post to express this...
Which led me to think that maybe that isn't just the case with one blog post. That maybe even in general I have a hard time accepting that things are alright.
Almost as if I feel more comfortable surrounded by clutter, with things that I still have to fix...
And that I would feel incomplete without them. Because if I cleared them out, I'd have to move forward.. and maybe I don't know how to do that.. maybe I'm scared to do that.
And so this happiness doesn't feel fulfilling.. It feels like a fool's bliss, 'cos I'm not really going where I want to, and that I'm happy being stuck at where I'm at.
Knowing that time's passing, and people are moving on, I'm just fixed right here... pretending to be happy and content, when I know in my heart... that it's not all that I want.
I don't just want to be happy.... I want to be miserable.. I want to work hard, move around and even be frustrated at times.
I want to feel busy, feel tense, be quiet and think about some real problems.
Most of all, I just want to get somewhere...... even if it kills me.
But it takes a lot to stand up and acknowledge how glad you are to be here, to have all that you have to do, and a lot more to look forward to.
For the past few days, I've been very happy, very very happy... for some reason, or none at all!
And yet I haven't been able to come up with a decent post to express this...
Which led me to think that maybe that isn't just the case with one blog post. That maybe even in general I have a hard time accepting that things are alright.
Almost as if I feel more comfortable surrounded by clutter, with things that I still have to fix...
And that I would feel incomplete without them. Because if I cleared them out, I'd have to move forward.. and maybe I don't know how to do that.. maybe I'm scared to do that.
And so this happiness doesn't feel fulfilling.. It feels like a fool's bliss, 'cos I'm not really going where I want to, and that I'm happy being stuck at where I'm at.
Knowing that time's passing, and people are moving on, I'm just fixed right here... pretending to be happy and content, when I know in my heart... that it's not all that I want.
I don't just want to be happy.... I want to be miserable.. I want to work hard, move around and even be frustrated at times.
I want to feel busy, feel tense, be quiet and think about some real problems.
Most of all, I just want to get somewhere...... even if it kills me.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Blank Out
There are times when I don't have anything to say.
And then I wonder, if I've just gone blank, or if I just don't have any thoughts on that matter.
If the latter is the case, then there's just sooo many things that I don't have any opinions on.... too many!
Which is strange, considering that I seem to think so much.. so much that I almost do nothing else!
Is it because I'm stuck on one thought too long and too bad to think about others?
Even so, if I thought about even one thing so much, I should be getting somewhere.. only I don't seem to...
Maybe I don't really want to think about it.. or maybe, it doesn't matter, 'cos I'm not thinking with the intention of doing anything about it anyway.. which is worse than not thinking at all..
And then I wonder, if I've just gone blank, or if I just don't have any thoughts on that matter.
If the latter is the case, then there's just sooo many things that I don't have any opinions on.... too many!
Which is strange, considering that I seem to think so much.. so much that I almost do nothing else!
Is it because I'm stuck on one thought too long and too bad to think about others?
Even so, if I thought about even one thing so much, I should be getting somewhere.. only I don't seem to...
Maybe I don't really want to think about it.. or maybe, it doesn't matter, 'cos I'm not thinking with the intention of doing anything about it anyway.. which is worse than not thinking at all..
Friday, January 11, 2008
Shut down
It does not matter how great you try to think you are, if you don't really believe it. There's no way you can sustainably fake self-respect. You gotta love yourself...you just absolutely have to figure out a way to accept what you have and appreciate it! Because at every turn of life there's gonna be things happening that will make you want to give it up, that will make you want to scrap the act... and if you do, you're not really left with much to live with.
And don't be sad, even if you want to be. Because it does not matter. You gotta pull yourself together and not feel a thing. Shut down. Just don't let that feeling get into your head... 'cos it doesn't go away. Do something. Do anything.
It does not matter how depressed you are, as long as you are engaged in something "productive".
It may not be satisfying... but atleast it's an ego boost. To cover up your hopelessness otherwise. Atleast it's a distraction from having to think about how miserable you are.
So the next time I feel like feeling bad for myself, I probably won't do it. It's just too draining to feel bad for yourself anyway!
I guesss I'll just pick something up and start working on it.
Maybe it's better than acknowledging what a loser I've been acting like and actually doing something about it... easier, not better. But painless nonetheless.
And don't be sad, even if you want to be. Because it does not matter. You gotta pull yourself together and not feel a thing. Shut down. Just don't let that feeling get into your head... 'cos it doesn't go away. Do something. Do anything.
It does not matter how depressed you are, as long as you are engaged in something "productive".
It may not be satisfying... but atleast it's an ego boost. To cover up your hopelessness otherwise. Atleast it's a distraction from having to think about how miserable you are.
So the next time I feel like feeling bad for myself, I probably won't do it. It's just too draining to feel bad for yourself anyway!
I guesss I'll just pick something up and start working on it.
Maybe it's better than acknowledging what a loser I've been acting like and actually doing something about it... easier, not better. But painless nonetheless.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
Standstill
Life has come to a standstill.
There is so much happening around, but when I close my eyes, I see nothing.
And the feeling of nothingness makes me shudder.
I find no love, no creativity.
Everything bland and dull. And the fears and controls of the past come back to haunt me.
The songs and the laughs, all seem monotonous.
The freedom chains me to this fixed, boring path that I'd rather never stray from. It doesn't challenge me anymore, and has nothing new to offer . . . but I carry on, thoughtlessly.
My tears are my only refuge to get away. But there is no pain, and no relief.
Only emptiness.
I cry and cry and cry, all alone, at the death of my soul, and at the spirit that could not even come alive. I sit and cry at the person I've become.
I cry.
I've lost myself among the crowds. I've never had any more friends, and never been any more guarded!
I fail, I FAIL miserably every time I try to communicate with myself. Nothing ever comes out of it, only tears... and I don't know what they mean!
And I cry more, because I can't bear this not-knowing. I can't bear the aimlessness and hopelessness of life any more...
My feelings entrapped within me want to burst out... but there is no outlet. I search and I search, but it's all dark.
I speak and I speak, never knowing if I mean it really.
I hear and I hear, never knowing how much of it really matters to me.
I try to read, but hardly understand.
I have no time... though I seem to do nothing. I see no future. I have no dreams anymore.
It's all a blur.
And the magnitude of this blankness hits me, right in the face. It overwhelms me every moment.
The hustle and bustle has numbed me to the point of believing that nothing is ever meant to happen. It's all just a rush without any feeling, and I am part of it.
There is so much happening around, but when I close my eyes, I see nothing.
And the feeling of nothingness makes me shudder.
I find no love, no creativity.
Everything bland and dull. And the fears and controls of the past come back to haunt me.
The songs and the laughs, all seem monotonous.
The freedom chains me to this fixed, boring path that I'd rather never stray from. It doesn't challenge me anymore, and has nothing new to offer . . . but I carry on, thoughtlessly.
My tears are my only refuge to get away. But there is no pain, and no relief.
Only emptiness.
I cry and cry and cry, all alone, at the death of my soul, and at the spirit that could not even come alive. I sit and cry at the person I've become.
I cry.
I've lost myself among the crowds. I've never had any more friends, and never been any more guarded!
I fail, I FAIL miserably every time I try to communicate with myself. Nothing ever comes out of it, only tears... and I don't know what they mean!
And I cry more, because I can't bear this not-knowing. I can't bear the aimlessness and hopelessness of life any more...
My feelings entrapped within me want to burst out... but there is no outlet. I search and I search, but it's all dark.
I speak and I speak, never knowing if I mean it really.
I hear and I hear, never knowing how much of it really matters to me.
I try to read, but hardly understand.
I have no time... though I seem to do nothing. I see no future. I have no dreams anymore.
It's all a blur.
And the magnitude of this blankness hits me, right in the face. It overwhelms me every moment.
The hustle and bustle has numbed me to the point of believing that nothing is ever meant to happen. It's all just a rush without any feeling, and I am part of it.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Holding me back.
A few days back, I came to my old city -- the city where I grew up, learnt all that I learnt, saw all that I saw; the city where I had stared at sunsets, tried to capture the clouds and danced with the rains.
It was the city of my dreams once.
I came back and felt like I didn't belong, came back to feel a certain uneasiness.
This was a place I had started finding hard to live in, and had almost felt liberated to leave.
I could not answer all the questions posed to me here, and yet wanted to connect as if I'd never left. But I felt cramped to be there. The roads I'd travelled a thousand times suddenly seemed so small, like little village tracts.
It was strange, and I actually physically felt the buildings cramping down and encroaching upon my path.
The crowd of people was again new to me.
But maybe it was not the roads and the city and the people. In fact, I'm sure it was not. It was me realising that I was still trapped within the confines of my own mind and fears.
I was still struggling to get away from what was holding me down.
I had got angry in that place, I had shouted and screamed. I had howled and cried.
I had sat in a dark room all by myself.
I had wanted to break anything that came my way.
And I had wanted, to for once, be seen as the victim not the perpetrator. I had wanted to see SOME empathy, SOME concern... that I didn't really believe was there. But I had wanted it anyway.
I wanted to go off like a bomb. I so wanted not to be there.
Maybe that was my way of trying to break free of those chains, my way of fighting for myself and what I wanted, of feeling that I could have things my way.
And I realised, I'd never left. I was still in that city, or at least the city was still in me, wherever I went.... and in me were still all its fears, the bondage, the sadness and anger, the disbelief and distrust, the disillusionment with life...
It was the city of my dreams once.
I came back and felt like I didn't belong, came back to feel a certain uneasiness.
This was a place I had started finding hard to live in, and had almost felt liberated to leave.
I could not answer all the questions posed to me here, and yet wanted to connect as if I'd never left. But I felt cramped to be there. The roads I'd travelled a thousand times suddenly seemed so small, like little village tracts.
It was strange, and I actually physically felt the buildings cramping down and encroaching upon my path.
The crowd of people was again new to me.
But maybe it was not the roads and the city and the people. In fact, I'm sure it was not. It was me realising that I was still trapped within the confines of my own mind and fears.
I was still struggling to get away from what was holding me down.
I had got angry in that place, I had shouted and screamed. I had howled and cried.
I had sat in a dark room all by myself.
I had wanted to break anything that came my way.
And I had wanted, to for once, be seen as the victim not the perpetrator. I had wanted to see SOME empathy, SOME concern... that I didn't really believe was there. But I had wanted it anyway.
I wanted to go off like a bomb. I so wanted not to be there.
Maybe that was my way of trying to break free of those chains, my way of fighting for myself and what I wanted, of feeling that I could have things my way.
And I realised, I'd never left. I was still in that city, or at least the city was still in me, wherever I went.... and in me were still all its fears, the bondage, the sadness and anger, the disbelief and distrust, the disillusionment with life...
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