Monday, March 25, 2013

Its Friday!!! (Blast from the past)

And right know all of you go 'what?'. Is something wrong with her head?  Of course I am crazy (not certifiably) but I didn't think I was as crazy as to write a post named 'Its Friday' on a Monday? I actually had written this post a long time ago but since I didn't have anything to write about today....... Okay, I never have anything to write. Its not my fault. I have been sitting in front of books the size of dictionaries for the past few weeks. And once I was done I almost burnt my textbooks. My mother had to refrain me from doing that though. Darn it. Now that would have been a fun thing. So when I originally composed this post I had just gotten home from an extremely grueling week and an even more grueling awful Friday. I practically flew out of my van (That thing is too unidentifiable to be called a van or even a vehicle. It was probably old ten years ago. Or so we guess. It is probably more.) and ran into my house and threw myself into the bed, bag and books included. After sometime I was feeling a teeny-tiny bit better, opened my eyes and dragged myself to front of my computer and started typing. But then some obviously pestering friends burst in through the door and dragged me out to play. Very obviously they didn't have school on that day and couldn't stand me sitting at home. Jerks. So as you know now I hadn't written much that day. Well read that as two sentences. So now I am going to write an article from the viewpoint of that Friday's me. Here it goes:
Wooooooooohoooooooooooooo!! Its Friday finally.(That's how much I had written) Salvation! Freedom! Temporarily permanent freedom! I just had the most unpleasant Friday. Started of with one of my favorite teachers being absent and having a chemistry period instead. Which meant 2 periods of chemistry as the next period too was the same terrible subject. To top it I just had to forget my textbook today which meant standing throughout the two periods. Ugh. Then on and on went the awful day, dragging itself like I was dragging myself during the lunch break writhing in pain from knee injury during push ups during Karate. Yes, our karate teacher who usually just allows us to talk or whisper felt that it was absolutely, completely important to have us do push ups, pull ups and what nots on this very day. Then games. I don't even have to say anything about it. To sum up the volleyball game our team played; we were beaten, thrashed and hung out to dry. And that too for the first time. Which made it extremely humiliating as we had taken a bet. And it also had to happen on this same day. Okay I think that's about it. This was also the reason why I had to bite my lip from shouting when the bell rang. I could only contain that scream till I reached home after which I let out a huge bellow. I could hear the ringing for a looooooong time. And the scream was extremely similar to the title of this post. Come to think of it, it is the same except for more exclamation points. Anyways right now I got to go and snore. So 'comiat'. (Catalan)

So now for today's goodbye '告別'. (Okay I can't read that but I figure that it means bye in Chinese.)

Thursday, March 21, 2013


Okay now that you have read the title you will think that I will rant and rave that we have to change and blah blah blah.. But as you already seem to know about this topic I am not doing that. Somehow I find time to do what I am not supposed to. Write a blog article. I am not even allowed to touch this machine actually. But my mum felt pity at me today and allowed me to open the computer. Open the computer I repeat but not to write a blog post. Which I am doing because nobody seems to be reading my blog at all. That is slightly depressing but how am I to expect you to read this when I have't written anything? Writing this also means I will probably get horrendous marks in maths tomorrow  So right now I am doing nothing but posting an essay I wrote for a competition but had to change it when I discovered the topic was slightly differently worded. Dang. So here goes nothing.



It all starts with nothing.                                                                                                                                                  That’s when I come, where I begin.                                                                                                                           First it was all darkness and pain. Excruciating. Merciless, but nevertheless a part of me. What I was. What I would bring to people. What had always belonged to me, in some ways defined me. Then there was the illumination, beautiful and embracing, bringing with it an illusion of safety. Then, times of   oblivion.
That was my beginning, I who am known as change, transition, metamorphosis, sometimes new beginnings, and sometimes lingering endings.  I have always been there, will be there forever even when time or the web of Maya have ceased to exist for I have created them, molded them and shaped them. Turned them into whatever exists now. For I am the beginning and the end, the start and the finish. I never end, because I am the creator, the one who creates it.
I have had a cursed life, I continue to do. I never come to the end on my time.  I had to condemn lives of toil to nothing, to give meaningless souls fortunes. I hurt petite children, beautiful innocent things that are the very embodiment of joy. Yes I even had to kill hope through these lovely beings. But I try to rectify my weakness. Yes I do have shortcomings. But all those creatures that I give life, they are thankless. They don’t see my beauty and grandeur.  They blame all their losses on me. They hate me for whom or rather what I am. They don’t realize my pain. And they never see the way I bring joy.
 The ways I turn the shadowy night into the clear bright day, an icy blizzard into a graceful swoop of wind trying to balance a leaf in its caressing arms, all these are to be overlooked. The delicate touches with which I transform an unpleasant caterpillar into an exquisite butterfly, a ball of gases into a sparkling star are petty compared to my crimes. Oh no, they never see what I do, only the things I wouldn't do. All they see is my negative half. The side that eclipses the good one, though I don’t know how. They see and remember only the times I bring to them hurt, treachery, peril, sorrow and wounds to them, the ones I am embarrassed   to call my children. They hated me and by hating I hated the very aspect of life. They told me to stop and in some ways top I did. Because they changed me into something I am not someone I barely knew, something that murdered the little happiness in me. They turned me into what I am now.                                                                                                                                                             Turmoil.              

Okay I know this is too metaphorical. But I don't have time to cook anything else up. But I will be writing a lot once my exams get over. That is this Friday. Woohooooooooo! So 'sbohem'. (Czech)

Thursday, March 7, 2013


 I have nothing good to write about and am feeling drained. Exams are less than a week later. So you all won't be hearing much from me for two-three weeks. I know many of you are saying ' Not that we hear much from you anyways'. Well the main problem is that I have to hunt for days to get good topics. Then after days of search when I finally do find one i don't get time to type it. Then when I finally sit down to type it I realize that the topic is lame. And the cycle begins again. And sometimes just after posting a new post I get a new idea. So I just type down the title and save it in drafts. Then when I go through the drafts they don't sound as good as they did earlier. And then finally once in a blue moon, I get a good post. Or something that is above my usual standards. But here is one thing. I noticed that my blog is at 500+ viewers. In just two months! Okay, that is some serious achievement for a plain 13 year old doing a lot of ranting and raving about nonsensical stuff. And also boring you. Frankly why do you all read my blog? Frankly why do i even write a blog when I am originally supposed to sit and cram maths formulas and geography maps and biology diagrams and Malayalam meanings and, oh well that is a long list. A very long list. But life is short and I don't want to spend the best part of life doing stuff that i wont even be needing ever. So 'farvel'. (Norwegian) marvelous 
I know the picture has nothing in relation with the post but it is marvelous , don't you think?

Saturday, March 2, 2013

A conversation

For the past couple of days I have been spending a lot of time on Google+. And I do think its quite a lot of fun but the there is another reason. There I started my very own community called 'Why we are different' At first it sounded like some counselling and help center but then I got to meet two really awesome personalities in there. One is my best friend who is neurotic(I will face the consequences for that when I meet her next{That is Monday}) and the second an even weirder person. And both of them are a lot of fun. I mean a  hell lot of fun.

And actually most socially challenged people hate who they are (Yours truly is an ex-living proof:{That doesn't mean I am dead! I just changed the way I think}) . But these two are a huge exception. They are actually kind of happy about the fact that they are so zany. I was at first astounded, then surprised and then very thoughtfullified (I needed a word like that.Oxford dictionary doesn't seem to have anything like that.) by these two . Okay not thoughtfullified but I did spent a lot of time thinking about it . When I was supposed to be studying Hindi (For those of you who don't know Hindi is the main tongue of India. Google it.). Sitting on the top stair between a veranda and another(My newest hideout. My only hideout actually) I went through what all unrelated stuff these two talked about.                 


But they helped me realize something. Being weird is nice. Its fun. Its different. Its not fun being sausages from the same lot. These people are disconnected in the same way they talk. And that's what makes them different. Special. Something. Themselves. One. Not 'The One' but just one in an individual style.

 And in one way these two are my best teachers and friends. I know they will read this blog article(they are practically my only readers) and want them to know that. So  пакуль сябры. (Belarusian)