:(

I want you to want me.

Are you even listening?

What is it that one realises while at a face-to-face interaction,

With morbid realities and mundance truths?

Waiting.

Something I've always loathed doing.

Unfortunately, something that

has always been put forth me.

An impromptu realisation:

My brand/style/niche of poetry..

can be classified.

No Verse, apparently.

Not that I intended on it being so.

I write because I can.

Also because, I like how letters construct words which construct meanings.

A rather fascinating process.

I like how my incoherant thoughts

come out and sound.

I realize how poets can be read,

can be analysed,

but deductions about their allusions,

can never be accurate.

My thoughts have no linear progression,

No clear direction.

Pin-pointing an exact reference seems impossible.

Absurdity and fluctuation,

concepts that are troubling me.

Superficial beauty.

Can only the Beautiful be loved.

In that way.

What is it that one deserves?

Can we compromise? Should we?

"Where are you going?"

She will always be my number one.

Always.

No replacements, and no definitions.

Life will continue with utmost normalty.

Not seeking reciprocration.

What will happen to the girl with the lower lip dimples?

Uncertainity.

A vicious, vicious circle.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=74sLqhCcoTM&feature=related

It's really really REALLY sad that these kind of politicians still exist, infact these kind of people, in BJP, a potential leading party.
What kind of mentality do they hold, for them to blatantly put the blame on one sex when they aren't even passive members of the entire tradegy.
The only solution is apparently to stop women from going to pubs, according to this BJP leader, after the maglore incident. Because he claims, it would be better to keep the girls safe from lecherous men. To avoid them from being mishandled, we STOP THEM FROM MOVING OUT OF THE FUCKING HOUSE.

Urgh. It annoys me so much. I'm going to break a glass in frustation.

They say you need to make mistakes to know they are mistakes in the first place.
Okay, I successfully second that.
This is not a mistake, don't get me wrong. I like it. But like is as maximum as it will go. And all the pressure is getting me to reconsider whether I like it in the first place or not. And now if I voice out my opinion, I will seem confused and annoyingly impulsive.
I was wrong in agreeing to this. I was better off being single.
Man, relationships are overrated. I like the guy. He's okay. But I'm in love with someone else.
(I figured it's time to come clean)
And this love business in my life in a tad bit complicated. I thought I could get rid of it by getting into this.
Beep
I was wrong.
Am I going to do anything about it? I don't know. I never know what to do.
I have 2 options:

1. I'm moving to pune in 2 months. The boy is going for a vacation in a month. We're mutually agreeing to end things there. So I guess I should just stick to it. I like the guy, he's good company but there's is absolutely nothing more to it.
2. Or I could tell him, and go back to the no tag, fling thing. It might be weird. Too weird actually. And I'm not feeling stifled, just so fucking annoyed with my situation.

Meh. I'm moving in a while. I will not discuss this anymore. I'm okay only, nothing against N. Just urgh, these boys. One is my boyfriend for reasons I am unaware of, and another is a really good friend but i'm in love with him.

And screw you all, I didn't feel like being cryptic. Go on, gasp. Laugh. Whatever.

You,

You underestimate me.
I don't particularly care, but If only I could get myself to be my usual witty, quick, quirky self around you somehow. I started out like that, I wish it retained and your opinion didn't matter to me so much. I wish I wouldn't have to hold back and be the mature one.
Being around you has made me realize one thing: I love being around you so much.
But, I'm afraid: that's it.
It's a fairly late conclusion, but it has come.
I love you. But that's it. There's no more to it.
And I'm so glad it's turned out this way.
I didn't want it to be any different.

Lovely Lady... let me drink you, pleeaase

Where's the vision?
In the eye of the beholder, perhaps?
I can't believe I've resorted to verse-writing. I refuse to call it poetry- that automatically means I need to follow a certain structure.
It took me a vision to realize that it all boils down to the ever great, underrated- "connection".
I'm driving fast noww, don't think I know howww, to go slow.
Fulfilment from one corner, and my sight on the other empty corner.
Okay, okay, It is a dead end.
And a rather complicated road.

Metaphors, anyone?

Just come around, will ya?
- "Karamjali"

... As long as I'm on this side of the bed.
Ecstatic; mania at face value.
Almost a fire within, that doesn't know
what to move towards.
A calm expression on the outside.

Accpetance comes, with this extremity
as a baggage.
A world almost as fantastic,
as the feeling of delirious anticipation,
exists in my mind;
revolves nonetheless.
The otherside is piling up. They say,
they say the pile will not collapse.
Really? A draggy, morose, insecure pile,
almost to the point of being annoying.

No definitions, nothing constant.
Why is this relevant again?
I don't have to rhyme, or make sense, right?
Right.
You will define me. You will be
my anchor.
You will be.
Are you aware of your existence?