On to 2015

It is tradition to have resolutions at the beginning of every year. I have long learnt not to make any promises to myself. Not the ones I am almost positive I will break. But here is a new concept; hope.so I am going to dare and hope and see how that goes.
I hope this year is the year I find myself (or at least the parts that I feel I miss the most.) I hope it is the year I am content with the person I have become, the woman I am growing up in to. I hope it is the year I defeat my demons, or at least make peace with them. I hope it is that year that I feel differently. Feel more than just pain and doubt. I hope it is that year that I crave for more than just peace of mind.  Maybe it is that year I will learn to forgive. Maybe it is that year I will stop fighting my ghosts. Perhaps, I might learn to live with them. Maybe it is that year I let some things go. Maybe it is that year I will let go.  I hope it is that year I live in the present.
And I really do hope that it is that year that I experience the feeling of fresh emotion. Of feeling something new, something different. Maybe it is that year I want to laugh and cry at something different. Maybe it is that year I miss someone else. Maybe it is that year that I hate someone else. It is definitely that year that I want to envision my life with different people. For a change, get disappointed with a different lot. Maybe it is that year that I try something new. Try someone new. Maybe it is that year I lose myself even if it just for a night. Maybe it is that year I forget the consequences. Maybe it is that year I let my guard down. Maybe it is that year that I trust. Maybe it is that year that I will be open to a different opinion, a different way of life, a different someone.
And also, I hope it is that year a curse a little less. I don’t know, there is something graceful about people who don’t curse as much. And maybe there is a part of me that wants to be a lot more graceful. Maybe.
So here is to 2015. To making mistakes and living life. To loving and getting hurt. To being sincere. To being human. To finding the parts of ourselves we secretly hope exist.

Obsessively Compulsively Distracting

i  am having a bad day. So I am just going to blog about it (well, not really.) I am just looking to distract myself. There is something immensely therapeutic about pouring out your heart to strangers, no? truth be told, I have no idea what this post is going to be about, so I am just going to keep typing; because that is going to give my brain something else to  concentrate on, and that way I won’t end up crying. I think that is all I ever do these days; distract myself. See, my greatest problem is that I have a brain that fixates on all things negative. And believe me, I have been trying this “have-a-positive-attitude” concept and let’s just say, my brain is yet to get the hang of it.  So I thought I would find a way around it. And that way is distracting myself; not thinking about those things. I would say it is working. I fall asleep relatively easy these past few weeks. All I have to do is put my headphones on and pretend music is the only thing that matters. Simply put, I refuse to think.
Of course there are days that I cannot use my headphones. And so those times, I look for something else to do. I play a lot of phone-games. Which is funny, because I hate those things. I am anything but the gaming type. Only, I figure I do not have any other options so I keep playing, till my finger-tips hurt, till my head aches, till my eyes hurt, till my phone goes off. On most days, I am fairly sleepy at this point. On other days, I am not. And so on those days, I just keep my eyes tightly shut, as if to lock my thoughts out. To prevent those memories from crawling back in through the cracks in my mind. That works too, in as much as I wake up most mornings with an intense pain in my eyes. But that is okay, I am good with pain. Plus, it only lasts till I take a shower.
And then there are those nights; when no form of distraction works. And all I can do is obsess about the tiniest of things. Nights like those I will check to see if I have locked the door up to ten times. I will set my alarm at the wrong time just so I get to reset it.  And even then, I will keep checking to see if I have set it. And then I start listening to the silence. And then I go to counting the seconds till the next drunk guy knocks at the gate, till morning. And so I count the seconds till I fall asleep. That is how much I distract myself. And you know why that is? Because it is easier than laying in my bed and trying to find the answers to the questions that are constantly whirling in my head. Because it is easier to ignore my doubts and what if’s. Because I would rather spend my nights obsessing about the seconds than spend it trying to answer this one question, “what if?”

Don’t tell me I am beautiful

Don’t tell me I am beautiful. See, I have spent years trying to grasp the meaning of that word. Because beauty comes from the inside out. And it goes through and through. Instead. Tell me something with depth. Tell me I am intelligent. Tell me my words make sense. Tell me I am a force to reckon with;that with a brain like mine, I could change the world. Tell me my eyes see right through you. Tell me there’s something about them that does more than just seeing the world. Tell me there is depth in them. Because I am deep. As deep as the ocean. As vast as the earth’s terrain. As rugged as the earth’s terrain;with its highs and lows. With my high’s and lows. From my silly goofiness to admirable intelligence. From my cool composure to emotional insanity. As insane as my notions on humour. Humour; what truly makes a woman sexy. So tell me I am sexy, not because of my breasts or hips, but because of my sense of humour, what’s inside my head, my ability to hold a conversation about a lot more than how my day was; whether it was bad or nice. As nice as that would be. As nice as I almost never am. But call me nice all the same. In as much as i wont smile when i meet you and hugs aren’t exactly my favourite things on this planet.but because I will say thank you and sorry and mean it. Because I will be there for you when you need me to, even if you won’t want me to. So don’t just pay me a complement. Tell me something I will remember, long after I have met you, even when I don’t remember your face, when the butterflies you stirred in the pit of my stomach have settled down. Tell me something that will make saying “nice to meet you” worth my while.