March 29, 2010

Relapse?

How close? You really want to know? I have perpetual visions of slitting those wrists and watching the blood stain the clear water. Of watching it through a filmy haze that makes people look like actors in a badly filmed movie. The voices getting fainter and fainter as I veer comfortably closer to nothingness.

Death is overrated. As a dreamy, starry sequential tragedy, that makes heroes of mere mortals. It is in fact a phony, insignificant coward. A coward who doesn’t even have the guts to stand up to a fight. The coward has no idea how close it has been to claiming this soul. Unfortunately, the soul has given up. On life. And on its nemesis, death.

March 26, 2010

In an alternate universe, I will triumph. Over this sick, stale depression, that holds my faith hostage. Over the bright glare of the sun, that leaves me weak and immobile on a deserted highway. Over all the insurmountable odds that crush the underdog. I dream, but I dare not dream aloud for fear of being burnt at the stake. My failure is my salvation, the reason I exist. For they wait, ears perked up. Trying to sniff out all my thoughts and dreams. The nights are balmy and my dreams restless. I cover them up with sundry mirages of survival. It is difficult to fool them though, One whiff of it and they will pounce. And shatter every crystalline hope that I’ve built, on this cliff of dreams.
Lucidity does not become me. Yet, that is what I yearn for and work towards. Someday, I will reach there. And maybe then, I’ll be scared no longer. Of speaking my thoughts aloud. I’ll dream of everything I’ve ever wanted, in my life. Call it all to me. For a change. I am tired of running after dreams. Of pursuing them stealthily with a net, and trapping them deep within my soul. I want to set them free, watch the butterflies flutter away, in myriad colors that speak of freedom. Without worrying whether they will ever return. I want to roll on the grass, not tread softly. Watch the fireworks light up the sky with riotous abandon. I want to get drunk, drunk on life, and not sorrow. I want to trip and fall, and let the giddiness overcome me. I want to lock up all my fears, and throw them in the ocean of no-return. I want that epitaph to read, No regrets.

March 18, 2010

Becoming Me

What do you call it when you start doing things that are uncharacteristic of you? Behave like you’ve never behaved before, act like you’re possessed. And care not that the world calls you a fool. I call it quarter-life crisis. Can’t find a better explanation.

There’s this book, a favourite of mine. The central character is an egghead who fools the world into believing that she’s a boring children’s book author. A failed one at that. But once in a while, insanity strikes. And she does crazy things. Like dumping all the camping stuff into the lake because she hates sports, pulling the fire alarm and committing felony, giving away her fifteen million dollar inheritance to charity and jumping into bed with a stranger she has a juvenile crush on. Molly Somerville, the bunny lady with an active imagination and less-than-perfect life.

I’ve always identified with Molly, which is why she is one of my favourite characters ever. I’m your normal, not-so-bright female with a penchant for stories. And an overactive imagination. Though I must say, I’ve not jumped into bed with any of my crushes, not yet. (I seriously hope my dad’s deleted the browsing history, do not want him to come across this one.)

It’s strange when you get out of your comfort zone. Do things you’re not accustomed to. I’ve always had the crazy streak in me, only that a select few have really known me. Like my best friend, Ruby. And Sev. For the world, I’m this cheerful, silly, ever-smiling chit. The dark phases of depression, and the mischievous streak I’ve hidden well. All my teachers, my family, everyone sees me as the girl who can do no wrong. Get into no trouble. My sister is the rebel in the family. I’m the obedient, spineless one.

Well, in the last six months, I’ve goofed up countless times, fallen in love, thrown tantrums, bared my soul to people I’ve never met, even been a sanctimonious pain in the neck. And along the way met people I’ve grown terribly fond of. I’ve stayed in that pit of depression, refused to come out even when friends have tried dragging me out. Well, I lost, just because I realized that sometimes life throws unexpected gifts your way. Gifts that you know you do not deserve. Me, mousy me...who’s always been conscientious about what I say, how I behave, I’ve been quite reckless. Molly’s completely taken over. I’ve dared to bare my soul, get laughed at, and played the complete fool.

I’ve always believed in things happening for a reason. But I never counted on change. Never thought there’d be so much of it in my life. So much that I sometimes wonder who the stranger in the mirror is. Am i glad? Well, I am. Thankful, for the all the people in my life. The ones who listen when they really don’t have to, the ones who put up with my senseless chatter, the ones who chastise me for my silliness, yet let me be me. You mean everything to me. Coz’ I’ve just realized that there are people you must meet, places you must see, and roles you must play, before you become you. Grow into you. I’m learning. And, I hope, growing as I learn.