Feel-good Writing

You and you alone have the right and the power to pick yourself back up when you feel like you're in the darkest tunnel. Funnily, (almost made this as a bingo the other day), it's you alone who allows yourself to even let things effect you enough to drive yourself right into the tunnel. But all tunnels have an end. It's only a matter of time; and time is very relative to your emotional state of mind; before the event you're dreading passes by (my exams), and you're back to some semblance of normalcy. A month of depression can feel like 3 months. There's an end to everything that begins. It's just that when we're overwhelmed and too hurt to move because we think it'll only hurt more if we move, and it's so much easier to drown in the misery and even enjoy it just a little bit; it's just that when we're too involved in the sorrow, we don't understand that there is going to be a day, however far in the future, that the thing(s) bringing you down now will probably not matter at all. Not even a little bit. Heck, you may just forget it, and if your mind stumbles across it, you'll smile because of what it did to you. Everything that has happened to you and that you think is bad, every such experience, has inevitably led to you discovering a new strength you thought you never had, that helped you get through it. It's only human to make mistakes, and time is the best healer.

The trick is always to know one thing and know it with such conviction that nothing else can ever weaken it: you only need what you think you need. And what you think you need does not mean it's what you really need. The human mind is easily fooled and it's with only time and experience does one become realistic and need things that actually make their life better, even if it's in small ways.

You just always need to be in sync with your conscience. If it doesn't feel right, it's not right. It's that simple. Don't let anything or anyone affect that. At the end of the day, come what may, the only thing worth satisfying and the only thing you're really answerable to is your conscience.

You need to be selfish in life. You cannot and shouldn't allow yourself to put anyone or anything above you and the things that make you alone happy not including drugs or ridiculous addictions. DRUGS ARE BYAYD, mmkay. Life is really simple. You just need to know what you want. Have goals, short term, long term. But good, achievable goals that make you feel like you're growing. You should always be growing. Pushing yourself to be a better version of who you were yesterday. You only need to make yourself happy. Simple joys you bring upon yourself can make such big differences to the way you deal with the world in general.

Have relationship goals: like, keep my mom happy and keeping in touch with the closest friends. I want to grow emotionally independent of him (yes, there's a 'him', no, don't ask me about it.) Don't lose familiarity. Familiarity is what makes you comfortable.

Have fitness/health goals: I need to get down to 60 kilos by 15th August. That is my ideal weight, and when I do this, I will be so proud of myself. And if I am off by 1-2 kilos, I will be proud nonetheless. Don't be too hard on yourself. Don't be extreme. If you're self destructive you will destroy everything that's good in your life.

Have career goals: I need to clear these exams so that I can work and then give the final exams and become a Cost and Management Accountant. I decided I would do this course and I will see it through. Constantly, I need to focus on getting there and it will surely happen. I need to become a CMA so that I can achieve my life goals.

Have life goals: make enough money to see the world, enough to buy the things that would help you settle down, a house, a car. And then I want to build a tree-house in my backyard and plant orange trees. And then on cold long weekend nights, sit up in the tree-house with a book and read by lamplight before crashing on the mini bed I will make (by forcing at water gunpoint) my husband build, which he probably will anyway because of all the torture he would have endured while building the tree-house with me. Get a pug, a golden retriever, a St. Bernard, etc. Okay I'm just going to stay in a dog park and sleep on the bench and meet and play with every dog pink or yellow that walks in throughout the day.

Life is what you make it. And I'm going to make it an enriching and joyous (joyful?) one if that's all I do with it. Sounds like a good plan to me. OH YEAH. OKAY. KTHXBAI.

Homophones are almost as awesome as homosexual hobos.

The wailing whale in her veil was upset
Because her male forgot to bring in the mail
And she'd gone pale due to lack of the water pail
And no more could she on the high seas sail as she was held hostage, lipstick was to be made out of her, for the year end sale
And so this sordidly horrid tale comes to an end and I will randomly say 'tail.'

''I lived alone so I took him home, he doesn't love me but, he keeps me company, everything's alright.''

Surprise Surprise

It had been so long since they were together, longer than they were married, longer than they were even a couple, and as long as she could remember. He couldn't remember, after all those years of togetherness, he had no memory of her, no deja vu when he smelled the lillies at the window sill that was her signature scent for all those years. He didn't remember anything about her. It was as if she never existed, as if those memories; some bittersweet, but most of them just so incredibly sweet, were just never made. But it didn't matter, his not remembering, not anymore anyway. What matters anyway?

She died last night. And he didn't even feel the loss. How can you feel the loss of something you don't know and something you have never had? That's comforting I guess, his not being able to feel the loss. If he could, it would probably be too much for him to endure. Especially after all he'd been through already. I'm his second wife, but his first wife in his mind, and to the world too, I am the only woman he's ever loved.

I won't lie, some days I take solace in the thought that he doesn't remember her. If he could, surprise surprise, he would never forget her. All those nights where he would make love to me so freely, so, completely, and so, purely, he would have surely thought of her, of her eyes, the deep pools of sadness in those very reflective dark eyes. He would have thought of her skin, the way different lights would make it look more beautiful, more transcendental.

No doubt she was a beautiful woman. It's another matter that her beauty was not blatant; it had the understated subtlety that was surely lacking in my own beauty. I used my blaringly conventional beauty to my full advantage, the way I was taught to; the only way I learned best to. But she, she was just something else. She was, as a matter of fact, everything I was not. Everything I would never be, and everything that he ever needed.

But he doesn't know what he needs. Apart from using my blaring conventional beauty, I also know how to use my hideously twisted mind, to my full advantage, surprise surprise. He needs what I make him believe he needs. He needs me. But he doesn't. Anything but me. I'll be the death of him. And then slowly die myself. But I died already, last night, because I am her. I am his first wife, I am everything he needed.

And now I'm gone. A shadow, a lie, a big black facade he never even thought of. Not once, it's all one big scary lie. He blinked now. And now I watch from this world of darkness, as he walks up the stairs, a cup of tea in his hand, having no memory of any of this, no wives, first or second, just a lovely movie he's got on pause he has to get back to. 27 minutes for it to end, and then he'll head to sleep where I can haunt him again in dreams he'll never even remember, because they'll never happen really. Nothing does. Nothing ever happens. Surprise surprise.