Shucksy in the sky with tayeesness

My beautiful Cactus Jack has turned 23.
Universe, go wish her all the happiness and love in the world!

Shagun,



Infinite undying Love,
Murphy

About thirty minutes after the last post I ended up updating my facebook status to 'BGM finds happiness easy :)' With a smile in the end and everything. (I think of all the people I know personally, 4 people know about this blog. Which is very intentional, allows me to be completely, over-the-top, shame-on-you-narcissist indulgent and hopefully honest)
Getting back to the point, my status message is true. The childish angst lasted for just thirty odd minutes and I got over it. I'm praying this means that I'm over it. That it's done and I've moved on to indifference and that it will slowly seep into the recesses of my mind and remain permanently lodged behind memories of the trauma that was 'mental maths' classes in the first standard.
Going through this puraani list helped:
- stop looking for yourself in things
- wear more lip colour, especially when home alone in your sweats, because otherwise it'll just rot in heaps around you
- be shamelessly self indulgent
- don't be embarrassed about your excitement
- be embarrassed about your lack of humility
- TRY to not covet
- in fact, you really probably don't even want it
- don't say no out of habit, try the things that make you uncomfortable
- when it starts building up around you and begins to get to you, when you feel that swoop in your stomach, laugh. Just laugh it off.
- be obscene if you feel obscene. Don't overthink obscenity.
- let it be
- let it go
- everything isn't happening because of you or for you. Stop being the protagonist of everything.
- try and become someone who your cats aren't embarrassed to know

I should be grateful that I still have it in me to feel an angst so extreme that it can only be described as cheesy and disdainful. That just means there is hope yet. I actually have another place reserved just for moments like this, which are strictly meant to be hidden, so that at least in my head I can con myself into thinking I come off all breezy and cheerful and full of not-giving-a-fuck. But I'm not really into hiding the gremlin that I am anymore.
A pox. On all the fresh-faced beautiful girls with perfect messy curls out there, who're all light and breezy and don't give a fuck.

Everyone who is busy and in the need of love, I send you HUGS.
If someone could get me some dhokla, that would be kickass and most fervently appreciated.

I like work. It fascinates me. I can sit and look at it for hours.
- Jerome K Jerome

After a lifetime of being anal about exams and marks, I seem to finally have lost that vice like grip on needing to do well. I can't study. I try, but I can't sit at it for hours the way I used to. It's very unsettling, it makes me feel like a different person. I have never been indifferent towards exams, I keep telling myself it's because I loathe the subject matter, that I think it's not worth studying, that my life is not going to have anything to do with bleeding cost accounting (yeah!) and this is not who I am. But, internet, it's an exam. Where I'll be judged and marked and told how much of my time I didn't waste and how effective or ineffective my ability to grasp these concepts is. The content doesn't matter. It shouldn't matter.
Nowadays I spend my day being comfortable. I sleep about 10 hours a day, which I'm working on reducing to 7. I miss my friends, some of my closest friends, who I can't seem to talk to the way I used to. Saying out loud that I don't like what we're becoming, I don't like this distance creeping up between us, I don't like how your email with only 4 words is so cold and indifferent, will it translate into an automatic pass back to us? But I'm comfortable with it. Nothing fazes me anymore. My house is constantly freezing because we've turned the coolers on, and Delhi outside is like a giant ball of fire. I go for walks in the morning at 6, to smoke cigarettes and be around for the best part of the day. Milkmen and newspaperwaalas and schoolkids and car cleaners and the doggies, and the funny feeling in the pit of my stomach that I only get early in the morning, that says are you going to let another day pass?
I'm being incoherent.
I read something brilliant on a blog recently. Out of sight = out of mind. Out of phonebook = out of memory.
I'm being incoherent again. I've realised that I have a blank face. This isn't meant to be self-deprecating, it's just something I've realised after looking at old photos. My features are vanishing. As I age, my face is becoming more nondescript. I could rob a bank or murder the president and no one would be able to find me because they couldn't describe my face (assuming I get away to begin with, which might not happen considering I'm acceleration challenged). It's a khaali face and I can get surgery or crayons or make-up and make it into whatever I want.
I'm going to go now internet, but I must also remind you not to let things go unsaid, loves go unloved and don't let things reach a point where you don't know what to say to your friend to make them realise it's still the same you even though he / she might be having serious trouble recognise you. That shit piles up under your skin and festers like tumours.

MILTFBID addendum

Can't believe I forgot him. I felt terrible about this all night long after posting. So yeah, here I am righting a huge wrong.

It's dangerous to have people in your life who more often than not make you feel angry and competitive and who make your head spin. Who you have to prove a point to, just because you can't let them win. Just to never ever have to see that infuriating smug look on their faces that makes you want to only humiliate them. Because we all know humiliation is the best treatment for the vain, smug, getting under your skin motherfuckers.
This is the sickest shit I've been involved in, ever.

Where Murphy leaves herself out there to be judged

This is very out of character for this blog. I haven't really elaborated on my love for any celebrities here. It hasn't been intentional, but it just hasn't happened. It's probably unfair to them, those truly fantastically pretty, all very do-able men, who somehow manage to make my world-view significantly less bitter and crotchety.
(Though I feel fabulous nowadays, more on that some other time)
(except for my debilitating fear of failing all my exams, which is probably shortly going to become my reality)

One of them, my beloved Rupert Everett has made me want to cry. Look at this fuckery.



THAT'S HIM ON THE RIGHT. What has he DONE to that gorgeous face! So with a heavy heart I'm crossing him off my men I hope to fuck before I die (MIHTFBID) list :(

To cheer myself up I think I'm going to share some of that list with you, internet. It helps.











































Okay, I'm going to stop. But I feel much better now. Please spare me the necrophilia / old man jibes.

empty empty empty empty empty empty empty empty empty empty empty empty empty empty empty empty empty empty empty empty empty empty empty empty empty empty

4:34 AM

It's 4:34 AM and I can't sleep. I like 4 AM, it comes with very low expectations from the world. My phone's not ringing, there are no texts, there are no e-mails, there are no IMs, there are no dratted facebook notifications, no one awake at home, no one talking to me, no one I can talk to in return.
4 AM, my life used to be like this. It was like you and I were a couple, and we went everywhere together. We were the exasperating ones that went out with people and then only spoke to each other, we went to parties and sat in corners drinking our liquour. 4 AM, I've missed you and kind of got over you. So despite my policy of not letting familiarity get the best of an old lover and me, till 6 AM rolls around and I finally give in to Morpheus, it's just you and me.

Conversation with bff, who was also first great innocent love of my life. Name changed to bff to protect his identity :)

me: there's no such thing as normal sex
it just means you're doing it with boring people
that's just doing it for the heck of it
12:53 AM bff: i know
you DONT have normal sex
doesnt mean there is no normal sex
me: i don't?
12:54 AM bff: i mean, i dont think you will ever have normal sex
even with ugly boy
you are good sex person
like god of sex smiles when you have some
while i am having sex, god of sex is online on google reader becaue he knows i would rather be there

Off the top of my head I can count 6 things that I'm trying, fairly hard for, at this moment.
One is poisonous and a waste of my time.
The second is pointless and increasingly disappointing. What happened to all your potential, man! You used to be enough for me. Now every time we talk it's so bloody meh. You used to be cool.
The third is studying. I've finally started and it's going really slowly but I have hope. It's all about building momentum and, in fact, after posting this unnecessary post, whose sole purpose is just to make me feel better / less distracted, I'm going right back to my books.
The fourth is a lifelong battle, so it doesn't really count. There are just variations in the degree of attention I'm paying to this issue.
The fifth is me dealing with ALL my close friends in Delhi, who coincidentally are also all my girlfriends and all the people from school (minus one) who I'm still friends with, leaving. (I can't help the sentence structure. Yeah, I know it's all over the place. I'm naturally incoherent)I've known them all my life and I don't know who else I'll tell about the crooked penises :| They're all going away to study and clean up lakes and I'm going to be left here bloody alone, with no plans of going anywhere for a while, in a job I increasingly loathe.
Which brings me to the sixth. I'm not going anywhere. I don't like my job. I had plans but they seem a little unrealistic at the moment. The job won't bother me post my three year mark but my beautifully made plan, The Plan, is a little wobbly right now :| Plan B was getting married and chilling and traveling on the spouse's deniros. Which might need to be resorted to now.

I'm not delving deeper but this list, Internet, is just to show you that I am trying. So be nice to me, the next time you see me.

Murphy is a pretentious cunt

'In a way, this is why they execute killers. Because once you've crossed some lines, you just keep crossing them.'

Also, my newest favourite way to waste HOURS - FML

Murphy is on leave and going a little crazy

The trip was fantastic. It was more than everything I hoped it would be. I went with the hope of spending time with myself, figuring things out. I ended up hanging out with an annoying but also strangely attractive little twit of a guy, a completely gorgeous, man-of-honour man-child who I have a tremendous middle-school crush on and a completely in love couple. So it wasn’t like how I’d planned it, in terms of me hanging out mostly by myself on a hill side with my reds and my hip-flask. I handed my cell-phone over to the couple, with strict instructions not to give it to me till we were back in Delhi. I was ready to clear my mind and prioritise.
Instead the weekend involved heavy drinking, truck rides, school bus rides, hanging out at this very fantastic, very posh army officers’ club (we were staying at this fauji place because the couple dude is the son of a major general in the Indian army), being hit on by both the dudes mentioned above in very different ways, not reading at all, hardly sleeping, thunderous rain storms, sixty degree hikes which made me realize how non-existent my stamina is, shouting at Khushwant Singh’s house for some strange reason, very highly subsidized alcohol, freezing our asses off, sitting on benches at the edges of cliffs, playing hours of bejeweled on the annoying twit’s phone with his assistance, the four of us curled up under quilts, huddling for warmth and so on and so forth.
I didn’t get to think about my life in Delhi but I did end up doing some generic, non-location specific thinking. I’m not sure how to coherently express this without sounding trite and incredibly inane. Which I know I will but bear with me because I’m on leave and bored and going a little insane being cooped up.
My recent and abject break up with romance and feelings or believing in the requirement for the same has become a sort of homing beacon for guys who’re tired of their relationships, guys who have just got out of five year long relationships and are consequently seriously damaged goods, guys who are rude assholes and also your friend who are into years of skullfuckery as a part of some perverse masochistic experiment. They all can sense that they can come and try and hold my hand (?!?) and say ‘it’s cool, my girlfriend knows and we’re going to fight about this tomorrow’, give me the ‘you’re so different from the women I know’ spiel, hang out with me, hit on me, force me to be horrible to them and actually like it and go into an infinite repeat cycle. They all feel free to do this and know that I won’t care or protest because I don’t care or protest. I have switched off and fallen off the radar. I am only capable of passive participation and observation and I don’t care I don’t care I don’t care and I’m just waiting for them all to go away.
I have learned that I am incapable of spending a lot of time by myself anymore and I gladly welcome any form of company. I am only interested in the transient because allocating more than a bare minimum amount of mind-space to anything is not an option. I am incapable of honesty. I am biding my time, till 3rd July 2010, till I can finally quit my job and go off traveling. Kasauli was incredible and satisfying and nourishing and gives me the energy to continue not giving a shit :) I am still in the process of learning how not to feel the swoop in my stomach at certain instances and how to shut my mind to the trivialities of this world and do some serious rising above.

Love for sale

Ask for Murphy's incredible, never-before, chutiyaness inducing discounts.

Bukowski is a wise and much loved gentleman:

'... don't wait for the good woman. She doesn't exist. There are women who can make you feel more with their bodies and their souls but these are the exact women who will turn the knife into you right in front of the crowd. Of course, I expect this, but the knife still cuts. The female loves to play man against man, and if she is in a position to do it there is not one who will not resist. The male, for all his bravado and exploration, is the loyal one, the one who generally feels love. The female is skilled at betrayal. and torture and damnation. Never envy a man his lady. Behind it all lays a living hell.'

We can call this the meh point

* I'm finally escaping Delhi for non-work related reasons. I have books and smokes and my hip-flask ready. Now if only my list of traveling companions and the consequent living arrangements would stop being so flexible.

* I am not studying but I'm also not working (despite bastardly attempts at guilting me into coming in to work DURING my study leave). This is a perverse yet comfortable equilibrium. For now.

* I am free of all domestic responsibilities again and I think it's worth giving up the solitude. My home was beginning to look a little broken down and loose on the edges. The fridge was full of half empty thai food containers and food for the felines. Now things are clean and the house looks miraculously cozy and there is real khaana and I don't have to wake up at 6 to have the fucking place cleaned. There are no more random late night visits which end at dawn with severe fuckwittage and hangovers and no more drinking black label in my ma's crystal. It's even worth not being able to smoke in bed anymore.

* I have two new babies :) I need suggestions for names. Their eyes have finally opened yesterday and their mum is still purring :) 10 points for desi names. 10 for names in pairs (e.g. peanut and butter (lame, yes yes I know) or glasnost and perestroika). 15 points for desi names in pairs (e.g. lassan and adrak (already done) or insaaf and tarazu)

* I have reached the most comfortable point in the normal trajectory of the cyclical moods, i.e. complete and abject apathy. Bitches with their moods and feelings and stories have shoved me into this brilliant dark corner from where hopefully I will never emerge. My very bald, bi, male best friend is my new hero and I aspire to be as much of an unfeeling bastard as him :)

I'd love to stay and babble some more but I need to go get waxed now.
Peace, internet.