how could anybody deny you?

At this rate, im going to flunk out of college. Im already failing Applied Calculus, and my international politics midterm didn't go as well as planned. Economics is a joke, but a joke im getting a B in and Sociology is too easy to do badly in. Im trying to double major in Economics and Political Science with a minor in Sociology- trying being the operative term here.

Im making mistakes, so so so many that its almost beyond count at this point. Everyday, every night- the wrong people, the wrong activities, the wrong life that I should be leaving. Finally, when I thought I was getting back on my feet, its seems that ive lost those limbs altogether.

But honey, the substances numb the pain, the feeling of constant hollowness is filled with temporary weight and substance. How can I deny that? How can I pass that by, that temporary feeling of being whole again, of not constantly tearing yourself up over guilt and sadness and a whole other set of emotions that the english dictionary is yet to define? Why? Why not? Why shouldn't I indulge myself? Why shouldnt I let myself go, confine myself in openness? Do I not deserve joy? Do I not need this?

Its temporary. Its fake.

Theres a place on campus known as the grate, I tell you this primarily because its probably the most important place here as far as im concerned. Having stuck myself in the Midwest, Ive become accustomed to choosing nicotine over frostbite on many occasions. Temperatures of -20 and -35 do not a happy chain smoker make. And so, there is the grate, a patchwork ledge right above the laundry duct. You sit huddled between foots of snow, so warm that your body can barely understand the difference between what is being seen and what is being felt.

I live there, before class after class in the middle of the night- all the time. Its right next to my dorm- its convenient when you just need to clear your head. I share the grate with my girls, one girl in particular, one of my most beloved people here. Last night, we sat after picking up bubble tea from the place down the street and sat and discussed our day and our loves and our hits and our misses. On my third cigarette, im concentrating on finding my lighter when I notice your waving to a dark figure walking to the dorm adjacent to mine. I look up, my eyes trying to adjust to the pitch black night

and I realize its you.

I smile and you come by to say hi. You light up and make small talk- the weather and where I dissapeared on Thursday night. I answer back, acutely aware of the fact that I just rolled out of bed and had on a grimy sweat shirt and my ugliest pair of tracks. My hair pulled back, my face makeup free- this really isnt my ideal situation. To make matters worse, my best friend realizes shes late for a meeting and says her goodbyes and hurries off. You notice the spot next to me being open and sit down.

We talk for a half hour or so, there's so much to know about each other- and the genuine interest pours out without effort. I left when I got a call about a movie I had to watch for class and quickly picked up my stuff and headed in.

You always say my name a lot, I dont know why.

I smiled for no reason for about an hour after that lame encounter. Sober.


Im quitting starting tomorrow.

honey,whatswrong?

i miss you.

madworld.

And I find it kinda funny,
I find it kinda sad,
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had.

thinkingofatitleistoomuchwork. i dont use spaces because they're excessive.

Last night, at four in the morning, I sat with you outside, chain smoking, one cigarette lighting the next, the cycle continuing for about an hour or so. We talked, about where you are and how I was there just mere moments ago. Perching on top of the ledge, I looked down at my dangling feet and spoke for what seemed like threads of centuries combined together to form fleeting moments. We chewed on snow, we caught up, we were straight out of the movies. I handed out advice even though im clearly younger, and you listened as if you truly thought I was making sense.

Later, when we procrastinated over Econ you told me that I had never been more beautiful that in that moment. That moment, when I told you that I was truly happy, that I felt like I had finally achieved a sense of being superior to my problems. When you told me, it took me by surprise, but now I can see why you would say that. My voice low, my mind perfectly in sync with my words, I was on a roll, and I said things that I dont say usually, that I never have the sense to write down, that I forget once uttered.

But now, I find this picture, and all I can think about is a best friend staring out into an ocean that is purely mine and his. And as I sit here, eyes wiped and nose blown, staring at my laptop looking for some sort of salvation, I just wish that I could be back there, at my ocean, in my space, in an area of my mind that I choose to forget every time I make a trip across the Atlantic.

Because baby, tonight was so so so so hard. And I am so so so so crushed.

Why is it, that every time I feel like things are settling down, there must be new hurdles, new things almost as painful as the last, new things that find new ways of creeping into my life, to trip me when im finally back on my feet?

This better stop, I only have so much energy left, so much that I can give- and soon im going to do something really stupid-

-and i'll be gone too far to be saved.

So remember that fucking ledge, because im not uttering those words again.

If I believed in God I would hate him right now.

crazy,howitfeelstonight.

two posts in one day. woah. this is what happens when you're intoxicated on a Monday night.

I spend my nights with three people:

1) An Indian overtly homosexual Senior, majoring in Math and Statistics with a minor in English. Can be recognized with his garish bright orange Armani jacket, chain smoking outside the science building. Likes: Pot, Nerdy men, his Armani jacket, Pakistani shawls and ethnic mean girls. Dislikes: Pakistani's, Malboro Mediums, tea with too much sugar and American accents.

2) A Vietnamese sophomore, one of those girls who grew up with a girl name and changed it into a boys name when she realized that her hair looked better in a buzz cut and she preferred boxers over briefs. She can be found playing womens rugby, canoodling with the love of her life at any given moment or working out in the gym that ive never entered since I've gotten here. Likes: Hand rolled cigarettes, older white women, honey tea, whole pineapples and Pot.

3) The trilingual legend, who can tease you in French Arabic and his own quirky take on the English Language. Always in a collared shirt, always getting cigarettes of a certain Pakistani, always eating pears after every meal. Likes: Black, being able to act superior because he speaks three languages (and is currently learning Spanish), England and Hippo's that he plans on adopting and putting in his backyard when he makes it big. Dislikes: Pablo Neruda (though he can recite Me Gustas Quando Qallas without effort), carbonated beverages, the Queen and the girl that broke his heart when he was 15.



*Insert silly joyful smile*

*Multiply it by a hundred*









There you go.

say goodbye.

play the music loud darling,

play the music loud.

play the music loud darling,

it blocks all the other noises out.

americanbaby,

Hush now, dont explain.

After a long long time, the room is empty, and you realize that you better make the most of it until someone else comes and interrupts the silence of geometrically sound music playing in your ears. Its almost five in the morning, and you realize you should be in bed. Tomorrows Sunday, and everyone knows that Sundays are crucial to your academic well being for the upcoming week. But you dont care, you dont shut off your lamp, you dont take of the makeup.

Head rests agains the wall, body covered in the burnt orange comforter. You can see your perfectly painted finger nails work their way around the keyboard. You can see the scented candle flicker in the distance. You have your headphones on, eventhough theres no one to disturb. But you like the fact that outside the headphones, the air is still of silence. You like the way it presses down on you, you like the heaviness in your shoulders.

We had some good times, we had some great times. We had times that I still return to when I feel unwanted or vulnerable. Sometimes, when the world just doesnt work right, or time doesnt evolve the way I want it to, I go back to you, I hunt down the same spaces, I go back to a life that died, a life that ive mourned in my own pouty existential way.

Im done now.

Ive moved on baby doll, I would apologize if you hadn't made me hurt the way you always did.


Lets go make some mistakes.

somanyletters.

what do i
what do i
what do i need to do to get myself in a better mood

Its late, I’m sitting in my room, Shivs and Lauren (the girls who officially live in my room) are sitting around, doing a lot of nothing. Lauren has her incredibly-formal-dress on, with heels and earings and the whole look. She puts on her bright pink bathrobe, goes to change while Shivs ponders over some random Biology problem. I sip on my diet coke, enjoying the easeful silence, thinking to myself.

Completely Ordinary.

what do you
what do you
what do you need to do to get yourself in a better mood

I missed all my classes today, I feel kind of useless watching the two of you working away. I call up Keish and ask him what he’s up to. I invite myself to his room, needing to catch up on the Economics that I missed, and just generally needing to catch up.

Its warm outside, by warm I mean around -5 Celsius or so. I throw on my coat, pick up my ipod, make sure I have nicotine on me and slip on some shoes. I say bye to the girls, knowing full well that they’ll still be there when I get back and make my way to the elevator.

well there's not a lot for you to give if you're giving in
and theres not a lot for you to feel if youre not feeling it
you bring it up
and bring it in

On the way down, I put on my headphones, choose ‘shuffle songs’ and let some random song soothe me into numbness. I walk out onto the first floor, wave to Simin and Sami, and walk through the big doors into the cool night air.

First foot out the door, the pleasant acoustic number transforms into pure base. The wind hits you straight in the eye, the heavy comfort of plastic heating dissolves into the night sky. You’re feat move effortlessly through twigs and rogue tufts of snow, spring is coming, its in the crisp breeze, its between the branches, its beneath you, above you, beyond you.

and we'll get you fixed up in no time
what i wanted most
what i wanted most
what i wanted most was to get myself all figured out
what i figured out

And so you begin the journey from one dorm to another. It’s a short walk, a walk that can be made from underground tunnels and connecting passages. But you always take the long way. Life is always poignant in the inbetweens, not in the moments. My walks often more to me than my eventual destinations.

The song continues, you walk between couples holding hands and people running from class to class. You keep your vision focused, heaven forbid you meet someone you know and have to take of the headphones and face reality in all its containment. You stroll by Robin and his men, you smile through Michelle and her trio, you walk because you own this dinky little piece of pavement, you walk because you feel the need to arrive.

what i figured out was i need more time to figure you out
there's not a lot for you to give if you're giving in
and there's not a lot for you to feel if you're not feeling it

You reach his dorm but pause before you go inside. You rest your back on the smooth shiny glass doors and watch cars drive by. You look at the trees lit up with fairy lights, you see the campus center huddled between bare branches and sparkled moonlight. Inhale, exhale- thoughts leave you and others take their place. And you don’t notice, you don’t complain.

you bring it up
and bring it in
and we'll get you fixed up in no time
cause this love is all i have to give
this love is all i have to give.

The cigarette is nearly over, the song reduces till it disappears entirely. You let the nicotine fall through your fingers, stub it out with your left shoe and begin rummaging through your bag for your keys. You insert, turn right and re-enter a life that you’ve often confused with home.

And the door shuts behind you, and you realized you just experienced a string of moments that could resemble things close to pure momentous joy. And you shudder, because you realize that you havn’t lost all feeling, and that you are still able to reach out and touch. And when the shudder leaves you, your left with a wry smile on your face, mingled with enough strength and enough hope to get through another day, another heartache, another downfall.

Because with moments like these you know you’ll always, always come back up again.

echo.

trick me once,

shame on me.

trick me twice,

shame on me.

you break my heart everyday.


why am i still here?

this is the most boring blogpost ever.

iTunes lets me down, so many times, too many times to count.

Its almost two in the morning, im waiting for you two to come back from white castle so I can eat, be a good host and then go to bed. My roomie leaves every Saturday morning and comes back Monday morning, I have the room to myself, its nice. My friends pretty much move in, they take over everything, and all of a sudden im not living with one other person, but with four other people. They sleep over, they watch tv, the encroach on any sort of flimsy privacy that I may have been naive enough to assume.

Alone time is hard to get here, especially when your incapable of saying no and are completely terrible at asserting your opinion. So you wake up with someone walking in and you go to sleep with people watching TV and laughing and joking. Last semester, with the whole insecurity that comes with being in a new place with no friends, was all about being surrounded by people all the time. Last semester, I would have killed for this situation. This semester however, im bitter and restless.

Things have changed, more than I can ever begin to comprehend, more than I care to make sense of. Im exhausted all the time, everywhere, in every moment. Ive fallen miserably sick too, but its the oddest kind of sick. Everything hurts, im lamely week and fainty, I have an incredibly high fever- but no cought, no flu, no cold. I look fine, im just.. not.

On paper, life is pretty fucking amazing. My grades are decent (except for that amazing 2/10 in my last math quiz- fuck exponential functions. really.) my friends are beyond brilliant. Im antisocial, but im missed, im sick, but I get to miss class. Things are fine.

Oh no.

I cant remember the last time I was happy.

-

And the music plays.

2-47 in the morning, I claimed that I was going to bed and you all marched out of here. Goodnight hugs were shared, we didnt need to say 'see you tomorrow' because its implied. My girls mean the world to me.

Lauren gave me some herbal sleeping pills earlier, and its been about eight hours and nothings happened. I can feel exhaustion sear through my body, I can feel my head bow low with weight, but the thoughts in my head give me no rest, none at all.

I give up.

I give up, because I cant articulate anything right now.

Miserable.

So,

so,

so,






low.

1:45 in the morning. Im sitting on my bed, my back uncomfortably resting on the wall with all the pictures on it. Im looking at the back of your head, you sniffle into tissues while watching the bloopers of The Devils Wears Prada on my roomies tv. I laugh at you laughing, youve seen these bloopers twice already, this is the third time. You still find it hilarious, I find that hilarious. You rewind a little bit to show me a particular blooper that you really find funny and I dont get the joke. You roll your eyes, and then two seconds later you sneeze so bloody loud that it actually scares me.

'Bless you'

'Al-ham-o-pilllaaaaaaaah'

(I kind of adore you for trying to learn Urdu.)