Yes, it *is* my fault.

I complicate things. I have always done it and in all practicality, I am pretty sure I will continue to do so my entire life. Why, you wonder? Because I am an insufferable people-pleaser. I don't suck up to them...but I do try at every step of the way, to say things that make people happy and help them out whenever they ask.

That's the problem. It's not about whether I am in a position to help or not. Somehow, I think my saying-No gene got shrunk to non existance and or dormancy by some cruel Darwinian variation. Don't ponder too much about the relevance of that, I just felt like writing Darwinian. There are certain words and expressions I use just for the sake of sounding smarter than I am. Lol.

Do you even write "lol" in a blog? Or is it just chat-lingo? Should I even be caring, seeing how it *is* my blog after all and I am allowed to write whatever I feel like here. Too many damn questions. None of them even halfway organized in some recognizable order. It's just the way it's in my head right now...floating around listlessly. I just keep jumping from one troubling thought to another, conviniently leaving the actual solution-seeking-part for later. 

Is it so terrible to believe in metaphorical fairy tale wand-waving? Or a metaphorical fairy godmother? I won't fancy a thin, beautiful one though. Much rather have my Fairy-G.M. be rotund and the kind that eternally smells of something deliciously homely like apple pie or vanilla. I don't think I would be able to bear the stigma of a gorgeous fairy-helper-type-person. Like I am not already surrounded by beautiful, confident, charismatic people already to stomp all over my ego? Yeah, RIGHT.

Although who am I kidding...I don't even have a real godmother. Even the boring kind that sends you birthday gifts and forgets about you for the rest of the year. Or one of those annoying Christmas Cards back from the 90s with the tinkling music, that you so wish to jump over and completely crush into silence.

I might be slightly hostile today.

I should get going. Probably get back to my studies. I haven't been able to get on the computer since early in the morning. 

More tomorrow, maybe.

Lilac Kitten

PS. Thank you God, for girlfriends who always have solutions and who make you feel good about doing slightly evil albeit kind things. Long story. Don't ask. 

Insanely exhausted. I hung out with a couple of friends from school today at someone's house where we made some amazingly delicious pasta from scratch, drank Tang from beer mugs and watched telly and basically had some good old girly fun.

Girlfriends. Can't live without em.

Cannot possibly start to anticipate tomorrow when I promised to go out for lunch with this other friend of mine who's coming to visit. I am so pooped. And I need to get so much of studying done. 

But it can wait till after maybe a nap...mmmmm....

Scheduled to freak out in....just about a few minutes.

So this is what it boils down to. I have finally managed to mess things up for myself, and have gotten into trouble at school for bunking a measly 10 minutes of my supremely useless Math class. Got caught with Nikita Opal. She's a really sweet person and was more worried about the fact that she got me in that soup, because let's face it, I don't do things like that.

Great. Just royally amazing. Next stop; Coke heaven and kinky sex.

Someone just kill me...please? The guilt of it all will probably do the needful even if you don't so...

I actually started tearing up. I feel so fucking stupid right now. Thank god for wonderfully supportive friends who flirt with the physical ed teachers who subsequently manage to fish us out of undue trouble. Amen.

So Obama took the oath again today...I guess to avoid any future complications over the Original Goof-Up Oath. Poor Robert Stevens. I actually feel kind of sorry for the guy. 35 words and he managed to stumble and trip over them anyway. I guess nervousness can do that to you. Hell, he handled it better than I would have in a similar position. Then again, that's why I will never be Chief Justice of the United States. Eh...moving on.

My parents are so incredibly biased when it comes to some things. Like for example, how they are always wary of trusting US support because of the past, when we didn't exactly get the aid we wished for and Pakistan was basically funded left right and center...and all that for what? They just used all the money to fund their terrorist network. And the whole world knows it now. The world always did. But that doesn't mean one has to continue being suspicious and paranoid for all eternity! The US and India have never been friendlier than now, especially after the Nuclear Deal got ratified and formally made into a law. Hell, we have the first Black American President! I think the world is ready for some change and that means putting behind prejudices and hoping for new avenues of peaceful endeavour in the coming future. Yes you CAN Mom and Dad!

Anyway...I've learnt to rest my case when it comes to arguing these matters with them. It's all well and good to try to get your point across, but there comes a time when you just have to do the decent and the mature thing and step down with your rhetoric. Especially when the persons opposing you are so unreceptive of your ideas. Then again, I get so peeved when they start off with their rigid views on the topic too...so I guess I'm in no position to judge here.

Must get back to my studies now. I always feel marginally comforted after writing in my blog. Gives me the illusion of clearing out my head by translating some of my thoughts into actual words that make sense(kind of).

In the T front...too much drama for me to bother explaining. Plus, I really don't care that much. Jealousy is such a major turn off me. 

More later!

Lilac

Waking up in that grey space

Ever found yourself in that place which you have grown to dread all the time, so much so that your happiness is always invariably restrained in paranoid anticipation of things turning around? I am constantly frustruated. 

I have finally found my place in the "popular" group at school. The one everybody wants to be in. The one I wished to be included in starting from the first day there. And now that I am in, it feels like the place I was secretly wishing for doesn't belong to me. I am doing and saying things that I would never have allowed myself to under normal circumstance. This is not me. It can never be me, and I can never truly be happy this way. 

Eating wise, things have been terrible. Mum's been keeping track of my intake(and out) even more so than usual. She constantly nags me about what I eat (or don't eat rather), so much so, that I ate for breakfast today, what would probably constitute two servings of cornflakes and milk, just to get her to stop worrying. Also had a bite off a milk chocolate fudgey-bar my friend offered me and some ketchup and a half glass of lemonade. Sickeningly sweetened lemonade that was as scary as it was delicious. I never eat at school. I never ever eat anything between 7 in the morning and 3 in the afternoon. And I purge lunch. I still purge whatever I eat when I'm alone. My mouth is full of sores and my tongue is blood red from purging so often(My mum thinks I need folic acid). My head throbs constantly every afternoon and evening. I don't take pain killers till it gets too bad.

I am going to start maintaining some distance from T again. There are certain...okay, many...things about him and his life that make me very uncomfortable and I really cannot handle another bunch of problems now, selfish as that sounds. I will still continue to be here for him, to support him as a friend. But as far as his drug and alcohol habit goes, I need to stay away a safe distance. 

Probably the only thing I look forward to doing all day is get to talk to James. That too, we hardly get time to say more than a hurried "hi" over the entire week. I don't know...my life just seems like a mess right now. 

I really hope Dad does well on the interview. *crosses fingers*

Lilac Kitten

Lagging

I have been so bad at updating my blogs lately. I am not doing anything very constructive really...things aren't improving in terms of my eating. Getting into fights with my mum more often than before...something that has almost magical potential to ruin things for me phenomenally. 

Maybe I haven't updated because I don't have anything to say.

School's been okay. Dad has an interview with Vienna on Tuesday. Very nervous.

If he gets this job, I can go to the college of my dreams, provided I get in. The finances won't be an issue. Ever. 

Some things sound too good to be real though.

More later,

Your Supremely Pessimistic Lilac Kitten.

PS: PRESIDENT Barack Obama. Yes Baby!

Finally talked to James for a while today. And as always, I got up feeling so much more comforted than before. I guess I hadn't realized how much just a small conversation with him seems to put things in perspective. He acts like my conscience. The one thing I can count on when everything else seems to be going haywire in my life. I think I am so lucky to have a person like that.

Listening to a lot of instrumental music today. I need to calm down...there's this anxiety constantly nagging me at the back of my head though...can't really seem to place a finger on it. Music's about as good a pill as it gets though.

I have got so many things on my mind that I know I need to deal with. 

*sigh*

I don't have a good feeling about T. Like always. 

Going out with a friend today. My mum had a tiny freak-attack when I told her he's going to drive. Annoyed me a little then, but I know it's only because she is concerned.

Mothers...lol

Anyway, not much to write about.

More Later

Lilac Kitten

I have had a fairly pleasant day. Spent its entirity with my lovely extended family minus a few very important members (I am so mad at Iv for giving all family get-togethers a miss). Ate a lot, and that of course, remains a suspended cloud of guilt over the otherwise positive day. I don't think I can expect that to go for a good period of time now. But hey...I am not acting upon the guilt. I don't have an option to really. If I were to be left alone and unmonitored, I would go straight back to my eating-disordered ways. 

I almost nearly tripped over my own words to reassure my head of the fact that it's more out of compulsion than choice or free will that I did not purge today. Sometimes I can step back and see the irrationality in my own thoughts and words, which dictate my every action. It's a pity that doesn't change too many things for the better.

Oh well. Enough with talking in circles, I guess.

I and T have been talking a lot more over the last few days. Which is a good thing, I guess. We have always been fairly close. But...I don't know...three days and I am already faced with a dozen or so situations which remind me of exactly why I have chosen so many times before to pull away from him. Somehow a relationship with him, even purely platonic, seems to control my life in ways that don't make me very comfortable. I still can't say no to people. I still am too shy and let them have absolute power over my actions more or less. And the shame of that is sadly not enough to make me stand up for myself.

I guess pulling away again is as easy as every other time, but I don't have it in my heart to do something like that to him at a time like this. I would rather stay on for a while and handle this than leave him with one friend less when he's grieving. I wish he could make it easier on me by not rubbing it in my face that I almost always give in to what he wants. 

That's exactly why I have decided to cut him off my life so many times over the last few years. We basically accept the fact that our only communication is about once a year for about a week during one festival. And that's it. 

But I can't be selfish. He needs friends...and from what he says...he needs me. God. I wish he could just fall out of love. Or I wish I could believe in him when he claims his feelings for me are genuine. Just cannot bring myself to do it though.

Life's just chalkful of stupid ass complications, isn't it?

Eh...whatever. At least its better than being completely blank and depressed.

Right?

*shrug*

Sometimes it feels like I'm a prisoner in a bubble I have created myself. It's days like today when words evade me and all I wish to do is crawl under the shadows and vanish. Escapism has never been a privelege I have been granted though.

I am seventeen and I have never broken a serious rule before.

I am sick of myself and my life and the person I am and the way I let people walk all over me. I fucking hate myself. 

Grieving and Making Up for Mistakes

They say it's better to be late than never. And they also say the biggest learning is from your own mistakes. 

I feel terrible because I have never been the friend I should have been to T. But I regret it now, and I would go to any lengths to make it up to him. I realize the timing cannot be worse, but I also think now's when he might need a hand to hold on to, even if he cannot bring it upon himself to admit it. He needn't suffer alone. He shouldn't suffer alone.

And if anything, I owe him that much, to be with him through this. I don't care what I have to give up in order to do that. I really don't. He means a lot to me. More than I ever realized. For once, I am going to be a real, true friend to him. 

I just got back with my mother from Nandish's memorial service. It was in the same park we played in as kids. It was the same park that I last saw him playing, smiling that beautiful smile, an innocence reflected in his every movement; the one thing the cancer couldn't take away from him. I held T's hand and gave it a squeeze before we left. 

Actions speak louder than words. Right?

It's going to take some time to get over this...for all of us. He was a loved child. A beautiful, intelligent child, full of exuberance and enthusiasm for that short life of his. 

You'll be sorely missed darling. We miss you already. All of us.

I just got this text message in reply to mine.


"Thanks for being here when I needed someone the most, thanks for standing beside me and for giving me the strongest support, thanks for everything."

We texted back and forth a couple times late last night but I finally fell asleep and saw his last text in the morning after waking up. I feel better.

He sounds...better? 

I don't know...its going to be a long process.

I'm glad we're started on it.

When soft voices die

Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory,
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the beloved's bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.




((Percy Bysshe Shelley))


Nandish Dave

2000-2009

Rest in Peace

You will be dearly missed.

Death has such a crippling finality to it.


I wish I could be with my friend, Nandish's brother.

I wish I could hold his hand and be with him through this.

Maybe I will muster enough courage to go and be with him for a while. I didn't see him when I went to see Nandish for one last time before they removed his body for cremation. My mum said he did though, I just crossed him and we were less than 3 feet apart. She says he knows I cared enough to come and thats all that matters. 

I don't agree with her.

I think I'll call later.

I just came back from visiting Tirth. I have never seen anyone look so helpless and sad. I was there for a minute, but I think he knows I wished I could be there with him right through everything, till it all finally starts getting easier. I wish I had those words then, but my legs shook too hard and I was out of breath without physiological reason. 

He knows I care.

Why doesn't it feel enough though? 

Why have I always kept denying the fact that his feelings for me are real and why have I kept him hanging for so long? I feel terrible. 

I would give anything to turn back time and be more honest with him. 

Crossing the line between the want of perfectionism and just plain lunacy

I am trying so very hard to keep from losing my head over the Biology test in school tomorrow. I'm topping the class so far, but I have a definite feeling things are going to be a little different in that light tomorrow. I hate when my nervousness takes over me. It's exactly like the depression, in some ways. There's not much I can do once I'm in. Well, to be entirely truthful, there's not much I try to do about it either. I feed in to a lot of my own insecurities by not being assertive or sensible enough.

*sigh*

It's just a 20 mark test. I just don't understand why such insignificant things (in the long run at least) shape up to seem like a matter of life and death for me, till I am neck deep in my own self-made hell of negativity and scared anticipation.

Wow...one heck of a boring-ass entry, eh?




On a different note, I went to the train station to drop off my grandparents this afternoon. I hate going there, and generally avoid doing that unless it's an absolute necessity. The poverty around me still pains me. It still makes me want to cry when I see a little child begging for money to have food.

I can never say no. I always end up giving away whatever money or change I have left in my wallet. My parent's aren't that way. Don't get me wrong; they're not stingy. Neither do they actively desire to be unhelpful. But they don't part with their money that easily when it comes to beggars and homeless people as compared to me. I am in no way trying to sound like Miss Godliness here. But it genuinely does pain me a great deal when people like my parents, who are fortunate enough to live a life of comfort and of getting most if not all of their wants fulfilled, have second thoughts about sharing a little with the less endowed.

I got into an argument about that with them at the train station and ended up crying halfway through my father's speech about "passing around the hat" and how he doesn't get as emotionally affected by the situation. I got away with an-"I got something in my eye" and turning away to face the railway tracks. I can never be comfortable or okay with my mother seeing me cry. There's too much history there.

He gave me his handkerchief which I pretended to rub against my eyes till I was "okay".

Sometimes I wonder if I'm too sensitive emotionally, for my own good. But then again, just because reality is cruel doesn't mean it affects you and me any less.

I don't know.


I don't feel so good today...

Random thoughts

Over the last week or so, I finally got the feeling that I belong in the new school somehow. Even stranger, people seem to *want* to hang out with me, and not just the reserved, shy kind either, that I usually tend to befriend. This time its the popular kind too, like the Vice Head Girl and this other girl called Nikita-Opal (yes, two names, I kid you not), who's really sweet. But already, the amount of bitching and backstabbing is killing me. And I'm not just referring to a few isolated instances. This is a trend. Almost like a way of survival in a mad surreal world full of competitive, manipulative people. I still don't validate it.

Which makes me sound like some sort of saint, which is absolutely untrue. I did something not-so-nice and really unlike me today, just so I could keep these two friends of mine happy. I didn't hurt anybody though, that I would not intentionally do, but I told a lie...a couple, to get out of an uncomfortable situation and...I don't know...I don't like it one bit.

Anyway.

Nikita Opal called and told me about her break-up and then just some time ago Surabhi told me how she maybe needs to take a break from her relationship with her boyfriend since her life's a bit of a mess anyway, and she has got more on her plate than she thinks she can handle. Also, told me not to tell anyone. I told her to make sure her boyfriend doesn't go sleep with the photocopying-girl with the belly-button-ring.

Sometimes I can be a real prick.



I have so much studying to do. Definitely staying up tonight with constant coffee reinforcements to keep me well awake. Great. More unwanted calories. Story of my FAT life. Ugh.

And I fully intend to start preparing for my SATs again starting tomorrow. Oh yes sir.

AND of course, the biggest highlight of the day; I start my first day volunteering for the Teach India Campaign tomorrow, which is a nationwide initiative to teach underprivileged children. I am going to be filling in for another volunteer tomorrow so I will need to be briefed about my lesson plan beforehand. I really cannot wait. Finally, something I can do to make a difference, and which doesn't just solely revolve around ME.

I'll be writing about that tomorrow!


xx

Lilac Kitten

Things I want to do before I die

If you stopped me on the road some day, and randomly asked me to list 10 things I wish to do before I die(although I doubt many people would receive this sort of impulsive and slightly psychotic action with anything less than hostility), this is what my answer would be-

1)Visit the castles of Ireland. 

Ever since they started running regular ads focussing on Tourism in Ireland in the Sunday newspaper supplemantary, I have harboured a secret desire to go there at least once in my life. Beautiful, glossy photographs of rustic graystone castles towering into the clear skies and the impossibly blue ocean and its frothy waves crashing into the sides of majestic, weather-worn cliffs. Yards and yards of lush green lawns with flowerbeds carpetting the velvetty landscape, like a rainbow on the ground. 

2)Walk the streets of Rome, soaking in the rich history and art. Get lost in my thoughts and its larger-than-life past and go back to the days of the emperors...back to when Nero ordered temple treasuries to be robbed legally to acquire capital sufficient to build a statue in his honor...or to the day when the largest, most powerful empire in the world burned to the ground, leaving behind just memories and accounts to satiate the curiosity of an entire civilization.

3)Spend a whole day in New York City, shopping and doing shamelessly touristy stuff like having a picnic at Central Park and eating a pretzel from a cart, ordering an extra-large frozen hot-chocolate from Serendipity, the most exclusive (and expensive) ice cream shop on the planet, going up to Staten Island and of course, buying an I <3>

4)Have my first dinner out with James like he planned; at the Niagara Falls, where he says at night, you can see the lights from Canada. 

5)Give my parents the vacation of their dreams, and have them not worry about a single penny. 

6)Have kids. I am really good with children, and I genuinly *do* have a certain way with them. I want to have children, and give them all the love I can and watch them live a happy, content life.

7)Write a book.

8)Walk on a beach, all alone, with just the water and the sand under my feet. Sit with my back against a rock and read a book, or maybe just watch the sun slip down the horizon and the water slap the coastline gently. Lie down and watch the night sky.

9)Apologize to the people I've knowingly or unknowingly hurt along the way.

10)Be happy and be with the person I love. 

That Boy

He stood out. And not for the right reasons. His hands shook like a person in the last years of his life, he was not good-looking, and he didn't mingle. We were polar opposites when it came to personalities, with only our relentless curiosity and love for reading common to us. 

I was the sixth grade celebrity. Freshly out of my tomboyish phase with the dazzling realization of the fact that I was a "big girl" now and guys were no longer tiny midgets to bully. My interaction with new students was generally brief. I was the official help-outer, because of my natural outgoingness, and I was always made to sit with the new student because I had been in the school the longest and basically a helpful kid, eager to get freshers acclaimatized. 

After a point of time, I would make sure they got friends of their own and got adsorbed into their respective groups and that would be all. 

He joined late. Very late. Almost the end of the year. And when the teacher asked me to sit with him, I took one look and shook my head with a "No way."

I got my way. I don't think He was a big fan either. And who could blame him? I didn't exactly go out of my way to make a good first impression. I was cocky, oozing self confidence and knew people looked up to me and lived up to my reputation. Playing pranks on teachers, having people look at me with admiration for my spunk and basking in that warm golden glory. It was what I loved and it was what made me the person I was then.

Come seventh grade. We had probably spoken a couple of times and it wasn't anything meaningful. We won a quiz together and realized we worked well as a team. My nickname for him, which was originally partly-mocking, eventually became one of endearment. People didn't see a friendship-in-the-making. I didn't either, to be honest.

By the time we were in the new grade, I knew he was having problems at home, and they were serious. He had scars and bruises, he started stammering at times, he was underconfident in spite of the fact that he was easily much smarter than everyone in that year. He didn't know that. 

The other kids mocked him, made fun of him, pushed him around, talked about him behind his back and to his face. Thought of him as a freak. He knew that.

This was enough to change my attitude. I was at times arrogant and bossy and overbearing, but I was also always the one to stand up for the shy kids, and protect them. That was how it had always been, right from the beginning. I got along well with the reserved kind. It came naturally. When my seventh grade teacher(probably the person who's had the biggest impact on my life) asked me to sit with him for the year, I didn't complain. Sure, I got teased. The kids threw me a much too obvious pity-party and gave me sympathetic looks. He saw them.

He did not have to tell me for me to know he was badly abused, physically. The big dark and scary bruises that he kept getting all over his body were evidence enough to that. What I did start learning about eventually was the mental abuse. The constant struggle that his life was. The fear he lived with, of disappointing or angering his parents, who never failed to give up a chance to subject him to trauma I cannot even begin to describe.

 I was his first friend. For once in his life, he had someone to talk to. he had someone who looked beyond his appearance. He got someone who told him they believed in him and his potential and really did. We became his wall, me and my teacher. He was ours to protect. An unspoken promise and a pledge.

End of the year. People had gotten used to the fact that I stuck around with him. That we were truly friends, and I was feircely protective of him. They refrained from giving him a hard time, at least while I was around. We both needed each other, and we weren't ashamed of it.

He came to school one day with news. He was going to move away. Boarding school. He was leaving in less than 2 months. 

I was broken. But at the same time, I knew it would help him to get away. Saying goodbye was the hardest thing to do; but it made me grow up in a way I cannot put in words.

Save for a few phone calls from him over the years, we lost touch. And just like that, he went from one of the most important people in my life to being a stranger.

Today I met his mother. After close to 5 years. We talked for some time. He is in the city now, in a different school. His mother hasn't changed. After all these years, I wanted to shake her by the shoulders and tell her to open her eyes, to accept her son for who he is, and to love him for that. She still doesn't believe in him. She still wants him to "be better". Worst of all, she still wants him to be me. 

Over the one year we were friends, I lived with the constant knowledge of being partly responsible for what his parents put him through, because being his friend, they automatically compared him with me. 

She told me she had gotten the letter I wrote to him to say goodbye laminated so she could show it to her grandchildren one day. 

I can't put a finger on it...I can't tell you what I am feeling, because it is so complicated. And there are so many emotions. 

I want to meet up with him. I'll call him maybe. I hope she remembers to leave me her number on my phone. But I don't know what it will be like to meet again. With the past and the one year of complete honesty and almost blatant frankness.  Maybe it won't be like before. Maybe he would prefer to forget and leave that part of his life behind him, because it holds the worst memories of his life. His mother told mine that I was the one who "brought him back on track".

Would he ever want to relive that?

I don't know. I am just happy I could be a friend. For once in my life today, I felt like I was...worthy. 

Thanks for reading. 

Setting the right limits

I have not been in more than one relationship in my life. And the only one I have been in, is unusual and possibly unrealistic to a large extent for most people. Possibly getting out of such a relationship is as painful as it gets. But what hurts more than even breaking up, is being suspended mid-air; wondering. Being too afraid to ask where things stand while at the same time trying to figure that same thing out in your own mind first.

The one thing I can be happy about, is that the person in question is my best friend. And hopefully that means the current....situation, doesn't mean us pushing each other out of our lives. I highly doubt either one of us is ready for that. In many ways, we draw strength from each others existance and the transperancy between us. 

Feeling secure with being more honest to someone than even yourself...that's the kind of relationship you don't just make up your mind to "get over" overnight.

So this is where I stand right now. Confused, because we make so much sense together and yet reality is a constant and cruel remainder of the fact that a future might be impossible. Yes, we knew that when we decided to try. We knew there was bound to be heartache and a deep sense of loss if things didn't work out, like some sort of miracle( That is is the only word). And yet we dared to love and dared to dream. Undecided, because I am still so much in love with him, and I know getting over me isn't that easy for him either. And hopeful, because we can just turn around and decide to give it a wild shot, in spite of the odds.

All I know is, we will come up with a decision some day soon. But till we do, and until we find the courage to take the plunge, we have each other. Best friends. 

I cannot ask for more.

Numero Uno

This is not the first time I'm blogging. In fact, I currently have a blog that I have been writing in for close to two years. I realize I am still a mere neophyte when it comes to scores of more experienced writers and bloggers and my talent dwarfs in comparison, but I still try to remain faithful and undaunted to this one outlet, haven and refuge.

So...introductions, I guess?

This is not one of my favorite things to do, so I'm just going to leave it to you to interpret me the way you want to from my writing. That's the best way, I think. But as for the basics, I am 17 this April, and I'm a junior year high school student. I get straight As and I am not afraid to admit the fact that I have lost out on dozens of opportunities to make new friends and meet people because of my lifestyle, which predominantly circles around reading, writing, listening to music and the likes. No regrets, for the most part.

I am basically shy, but I warm up to people very easily. Unabashed lover whose had her heart handed back to her quite a few times; my strongest belief is in learning from my mistakes. I believe you love people for their imperfections and not in spite of.

I am currently suffering from an eating disorder, a constant battle I have been fighting for the last three years. It's taken a lot from my life, but again, has made me grow as a person in ways I cannot possibly describe. If you ask me what I hate about it the most, I would say its the constant fear of being judged by that one aspect of my life. My disorder does not define me as a person, no matter how many times my own immediate words betray that emotion.



Why the second blog?

Because a lot of my close friends(in the virtual world) have access to my first, and that has invariably created a few inhibitions in writing openly. One of the prime attractions of starting a new blog is the factor of anonymity; something I didn't bother too much to maintain in my original blog. But apart from that, I plan to continue writing in both. If anything, it gives me more reason to write, and I keep looking for reasons to do away with my scarily stretched-out writer's block anyway.


I am still very new to this place. I have read hundreds (and I do not exagerrate) of blogs by reference here, but I have no clue how people actually bump into blogs as such here. That's next on my to-do list- playing around till I figure this out best as I can.

More later

Lilac Kitten