Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
I have returned
Mursie dear, I would like to hear from you.
And you as well Ginger. And from you wifey.
And you as well Ginger. And from you wifey.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
I'm leaving for a while
Hello all. I shall be going away for a few days. No need to be alarmed (not that you were, but that is why I was not in classes today and may not be for a few more days).
Sunday, April 19, 2009
I'M BACK
And totally, completely unprepared to face the world. BIG SURPRISE THERE.
Okay so I have this thing.
Let's call it Pooja's Insanity. Or Sanity. Because honestly I have no idea what it is. It, let's just say, polarizes me. Sometimes I think I'm so sane, I function perfectly. But other times I'm insane. In between I hate living. It sounds bad, but it gets wickkkked awesome when I start cycling. Well wicked while it lasts. But DONE WITH THE RAMBLING.
My insanity/sanity has totally altered the way my brain works. And it scares me. Because now I don't know how my brain works. I used to know what I liked, how I think, what pleases me. I can't read a book page and remember what happened. And that scares me so, so much. I love books, they are my escape, and now I can't do it. I don't know myself. Everyday I'm changing, whether its for the better or the worse, I do not know.
None of that was coherent.
Okay so I have this thing.
Let's call it Pooja's Insanity. Or Sanity. Because honestly I have no idea what it is. It, let's just say, polarizes me. Sometimes I think I'm so sane, I function perfectly. But other times I'm insane. In between I hate living. It sounds bad, but it gets wickkkked awesome when I start cycling. Well wicked while it lasts. But DONE WITH THE RAMBLING.
My insanity/sanity has totally altered the way my brain works. And it scares me. Because now I don't know how my brain works. I used to know what I liked, how I think, what pleases me. I can't read a book page and remember what happened. And that scares me so, so much. I love books, they are my escape, and now I can't do it. I don't know myself. Everyday I'm changing, whether its for the better or the worse, I do not know.
None of that was coherent.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
MANY MUSICS
Green Go
They are REALLY, REALLY good. (Fro headed child, you will enjoy them)
http://www.myspace.com/greengomusic
Of course, they are so obscure no videos are on youtube.
OH AND MAYBE SMITH. He sounds like Chris Martin from Coldplay.
http://www.myspace.com/maybesmith
He's also fun to look at.
Oh and PINSTRIPE. They are Scottish. And win.
I shall be going to the sister's abode in Philly. I feel super awkward because its only been two weeks since my my family viciously attacked me. Lordy.
WHAT IS LOVE IS PLAYING FROM MY LAPTOP.
I MUST DANCE TO IT
*gratuitious dance moves in conjunction with power fists*
YES. YES. YES.
Yesterday my fork got caught in the garbage disposal. I laughed and proceeded to Yes Dance.
Right now things are pink. Thulian Pink. With ;anguid lavendar. (I have a book of colors which i consult to find these fitting names.)
They are REALLY, REALLY good. (Fro headed child, you will enjoy them)
http://www.myspace.com/greengomusic
Of course, they are so obscure no videos are on youtube.
OH AND MAYBE SMITH. He sounds like Chris Martin from Coldplay.
http://www.myspace.com/maybesmith
He's also fun to look at.
Oh and PINSTRIPE. They are Scottish. And win.
I shall be going to the sister's abode in Philly. I feel super awkward because its only been two weeks since my my family viciously attacked me. Lordy.
WHAT IS LOVE IS PLAYING FROM MY LAPTOP.
I MUST DANCE TO IT
*gratuitious dance moves in conjunction with power fists*
YES. YES. YES.
Yesterday my fork got caught in the garbage disposal. I laughed and proceeded to Yes Dance.
Right now things are pink. Thulian Pink. With ;anguid lavendar. (I have a book of colors which i consult to find these fitting names.)
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Today, I felt...wait for it.........PRETTY
Today, for the first time in a very, very long time, I felt PRETTY. That's not saying that I think I'm actually aesthetically pleasing. But as Cara, the fro headed child, dictated, beauty is an emotion. I felt, dare I say it, bubbly. I've started doing yoga hardcore again. I've been doing atleast an hour a day and it feels damn good.
I'm thinking of getting our friends together and doing yoga. See, the medicine chooses to work sometimes. I get rushes of energy sometimes. I feel perfect and on a high sometimes. Why? That's my brain chemistry. But yoga works everytime. It gives me a lot of real happiness.
I'm thinking of getting our friends together and doing yoga. See, the medicine chooses to work sometimes. I get rushes of energy sometimes. I feel perfect and on a high sometimes. Why? That's my brain chemistry. But yoga works everytime. It gives me a lot of real happiness.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Kashmir and Awesome Guitar Riffs
As I sit in my bedroom, pensively listening to the peacock blue Kashmir by Led Zeppelin, I realize that it is Easter Weekend. Bizarre. I wish I knew Indian holidays. I only know them from what my parents tell me and I never know the dates or times. I hate that I have a deeper connection with Christianity than with my own faith. I love being Hindu. It make me insanely happy and when I can take part in it, I feel good. Happy. Happy.Happy means a lot to me. It's green. Celadon maybe.
It's rainy today so I left my windows open. It stopped raining though :(.
Seven Nation Army.....man that is a sick guitar riff. It sounds like a bass guitar but I know its not...Remind me to figure out what the hell Jack White is playing here. I hear a whammy bar....that's about it.
It's rainy today so I left my windows open. It stopped raining though :(.
Seven Nation Army.....man that is a sick guitar riff. It sounds like a bass guitar but I know its not...Remind me to figure out what the hell Jack White is playing here. I hear a whammy bar....that's about it.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Just because I'm losing, doesn't mean I'm lost
I have done absoulutely so work whatsoever.....
Let's play a fun little game, shall we?
Now imagine a beautiful little demon child. GOOD. Now imagine a pair of hopelessly bewildered middle aged persons. Now imagine them as a group totally and utterly ostracizing another person. Let's say this person is very difficult to deal with. Constantly hurt, sad, confused, annoying. The color: none. This person's life, right now, has no color. How does one go about getting color when the demon child and the odd couple walk around with giant erasers on their heads?
Let's play a fun little game, shall we?
Now imagine a beautiful little demon child. GOOD. Now imagine a pair of hopelessly bewildered middle aged persons. Now imagine them as a group totally and utterly ostracizing another person. Let's say this person is very difficult to deal with. Constantly hurt, sad, confused, annoying. The color: none. This person's life, right now, has no color. How does one go about getting color when the demon child and the odd couple walk around with giant erasers on their heads?
Thursday, April 9, 2009
My Colors (Marissa still has more colors than I)
I find I am drawn to things because of colors. When I describe things, I describe colors. I love describing in general.
The coffee table:
deliciously cherry brown lacquered with some foreign sap of an exotic tree, lined with cocoa brown swirls, adorned with the occasional ring from a long forgotten cup of coffee
Now, granted that may be the WORST description ever ( I didn't say I was good.) but I enjoyed doing it. That counts, right? Everything has a color. Even voices, personalities. Marissa, to me you are a carribean blue. You know that blue that isn't really blue, but this tango between the clearest green in the whole world and the deepest cerulean in the ocean. But minus the transparency. But at the same time, I see you tinged with a peach with blush pink run through. But your mind, is definitely carribean blue, flowy and beautiful and creative. I'm not sure why I do this. (See, in my mind you also have many colors).
When I said I wanted to be a journalist, I was really drawn to the color of the occupation. Black coffee spilling over a corrugated cardboard heat protector on a crummy paper cup, shiny chrome door handles, skyscraper stillettos, typewriters clacking (yes, clacking), and ink smears in an awkward indigo violet so dark and so easily tranferred. The color of this is blue grey. It just IS. DAMMIT. It makes sense to me. In my head...Like I said though, I should just not talk.
I could be a zookeeper. That color is chartreuse, embossed with some celadon tinted leaf designs.
My doctor said it's normal that I have colors for things. I haven't really shared that I have colors for things but he said it may help if I start. I have colors for everything, so whenever I mention things, I will probably mention their colors. So I'm very content coloring things in my world. But I have a name for what I am:
chromaphile :)
That makes me feel butter yellow, with a hint of jade.
It also explain why I love makeup so much.
The coffee table:
deliciously cherry brown lacquered with some foreign sap of an exotic tree, lined with cocoa brown swirls, adorned with the occasional ring from a long forgotten cup of coffee
Now, granted that may be the WORST description ever ( I didn't say I was good.) but I enjoyed doing it. That counts, right? Everything has a color. Even voices, personalities. Marissa, to me you are a carribean blue. You know that blue that isn't really blue, but this tango between the clearest green in the whole world and the deepest cerulean in the ocean. But minus the transparency. But at the same time, I see you tinged with a peach with blush pink run through. But your mind, is definitely carribean blue, flowy and beautiful and creative. I'm not sure why I do this. (See, in my mind you also have many colors).
When I said I wanted to be a journalist, I was really drawn to the color of the occupation. Black coffee spilling over a corrugated cardboard heat protector on a crummy paper cup, shiny chrome door handles, skyscraper stillettos, typewriters clacking (yes, clacking), and ink smears in an awkward indigo violet so dark and so easily tranferred. The color of this is blue grey. It just IS. DAMMIT. It makes sense to me. In my head...Like I said though, I should just not talk.
I could be a zookeeper. That color is chartreuse, embossed with some celadon tinted leaf designs.
My doctor said it's normal that I have colors for things. I haven't really shared that I have colors for things but he said it may help if I start. I have colors for everything, so whenever I mention things, I will probably mention their colors. So I'm very content coloring things in my world. But I have a name for what I am:
chromaphile :)
That makes me feel butter yellow, with a hint of jade.
It also explain why I love makeup so much.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Break
WE HAS BREAK IN 15 MINUTES.
SHIT SON.
Well actually, it's a semi break that entails lots and lots and lots of work.
Whoohoo!
SHIT SON.
Well actually, it's a semi break that entails lots and lots and lots of work.
Whoohoo!
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Sometimes, I should just not talk
I end up making myself sound like a total and complete idiot. So much for that...
Things sound better in my head anyway. And nobody judges me there. Well actually, I judge myself, but I can deal with my own judgments. Other people's....not so much. It's too much to carry. It's too hard to try and impress people. i like my head. Things make sense. To me, if not to my teachers or friends. And I'm pretty sure what I TRY and say comes out idiotic and poorly thought out. Well screw it. Who needs people? I have a head. With colors and pretty things and my thoughts and Yann Tiersen's piano music.
I talk a lot. I know, SHOCKER. I wish I didn't. Maybe it's because what's going on in my brain is so awesome and beautiful and I want people to see. I want people to see the colors I see and hear the sounds I do. Because they are wonderful. Because the real colors and the real sounds aren't nearly as pretty. It's sort of like, HEY IT'S COOL IN MY BRAIN. NOT TO BE COCKY...BUT NOW I SHALL TRY TO VERBALIZE. That's why I tell stories and dominate conversations. That is also why I am incredibly difficult to deal with. Also, half the time I try and vocalize a concept I have going in my head, it pops out really stupid and not deep and just BAD.
In any case, I don't let myself hear what's going on in other people's heads. I should. I should just not talk. People appreciate quiet people. It may also be because I very scared of it getting too quiet. I'm scared that one day it'll get quiet and it'll just be me and my head. And I'll be judged and hear those awful things. It's your fault. What's my fault? The point exactly. It's this inexplicable feeling of worthlessness. It's because when I'm quiet, truly quiet, I feel worthless. When I go home, before bed, I don't talk. I sit. And sometimes do nothing. And I feel worthless. So world, there it is. That's why I talk. Because my head is perfect, and that's the very reason why it tells me I'm worthless. I can't find my happiness in my reality, but in my brain. And that in itself is pathetic. That probably makes no sense. (verbalize FAIL)
Overall, I feel relieved to atleast figure out why the hell I talk so much. I thought about it while I didn't do history. Whoo.
Things sound better in my head anyway. And nobody judges me there. Well actually, I judge myself, but I can deal with my own judgments. Other people's....not so much. It's too much to carry. It's too hard to try and impress people. i like my head. Things make sense. To me, if not to my teachers or friends. And I'm pretty sure what I TRY and say comes out idiotic and poorly thought out. Well screw it. Who needs people? I have a head. With colors and pretty things and my thoughts and Yann Tiersen's piano music.
I talk a lot. I know, SHOCKER. I wish I didn't. Maybe it's because what's going on in my brain is so awesome and beautiful and I want people to see. I want people to see the colors I see and hear the sounds I do. Because they are wonderful. Because the real colors and the real sounds aren't nearly as pretty. It's sort of like, HEY IT'S COOL IN MY BRAIN. NOT TO BE COCKY...BUT NOW I SHALL TRY TO VERBALIZE. That's why I tell stories and dominate conversations. That is also why I am incredibly difficult to deal with. Also, half the time I try and vocalize a concept I have going in my head, it pops out really stupid and not deep and just BAD.
In any case, I don't let myself hear what's going on in other people's heads. I should. I should just not talk. People appreciate quiet people. It may also be because I very scared of it getting too quiet. I'm scared that one day it'll get quiet and it'll just be me and my head. And I'll be judged and hear those awful things. It's your fault. What's my fault? The point exactly. It's this inexplicable feeling of worthlessness. It's because when I'm quiet, truly quiet, I feel worthless. When I go home, before bed, I don't talk. I sit. And sometimes do nothing. And I feel worthless. So world, there it is. That's why I talk. Because my head is perfect, and that's the very reason why it tells me I'm worthless. I can't find my happiness in my reality, but in my brain. And that in itself is pathetic. That probably makes no sense. (verbalize FAIL)
Overall, I feel relieved to atleast figure out why the hell I talk so much. I thought about it while I didn't do history. Whoo.
Monday, April 6, 2009
With or Without You/I can't live, With or without you/ And you give yourself away
THERE WAS NO YOGURT IN THE CAFETERIA.
AH.
ALARMEDNESS.
Has someone ever told you something sad and you feel unbelivably awkward? It's like, I pity you, but what now....*Awkward face*
*Inches toward exit in the most sympathetic manner possible*
AH.
ALARMEDNESS.
Has someone ever told you something sad and you feel unbelivably awkward? It's like, I pity you, but what now....*Awkward face*
*Inches toward exit in the most sympathetic manner possible*
Sunday, April 5, 2009
"Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody."
Indeed. Quite true seeing my current thoughts. I feel awkward. And I mean that is every possible sense of the word. Imagine being in a room with someone really cool. You really just want to talk to this person but they brutally rebuff you and proceed to speak to everyone but you. Whatever feeling that would be present in you at that moment is present in me right now. I have no idea why....
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Noms and Brothers in law
I ate some nommy Taco Bell. Also, DAYUM girl 60,000 words! (envy) I present to you the ancient Embrace the Martian a Kid Cudi
Ignore the bizarre video
Of course, the equally ancient Day n' Nite
AND FINALLY, A VIDEO FOR "WELCOME TO HEARTBREAK"
I can't embed the video, but here is the song alone.
Kanye, what the fuck is Robocop? It's a fail....
Today we are going to visit the elder sister and brother in law. After being viciously attacked by my family at large last week, that will be awkward. Whooo. I'm just happy to go the city. I hate the suburbs. They are awkward. It's like GODDAMN YOU SLICE OF UNDECISIVE LAND, PICK YOUR LOYALTY, RURAL OR URBAN. STOP TORTURING HUMANITY WITH YOUR AWKWARD LOVE CHILD SUBURBIA.
Ignore the bizarre video
Of course, the equally ancient Day n' Nite
AND FINALLY, A VIDEO FOR "WELCOME TO HEARTBREAK"
I can't embed the video, but here is the song alone.
Kanye, what the fuck is Robocop? It's a fail....
Today we are going to visit the elder sister and brother in law. After being viciously attacked by my family at large last week, that will be awkward. Whooo. I'm just happy to go the city. I hate the suburbs. They are awkward. It's like GODDAMN YOU SLICE OF UNDECISIVE LAND, PICK YOUR LOYALTY, RURAL OR URBAN. STOP TORTURING HUMANITY WITH YOUR AWKWARD LOVE CHILD SUBURBIA.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Things like this keep me going
Mla things and blah
Dude, the MLA is a bunch of assholes. YEAH SUCK ON THAT MRS. MAILLETT! I USED A LINKING VERB. And I am also angry at myself. I feel like I may have ignored someone I care about by ONLY talking about myself. And I did notice when she was sad. I did. I guess it's because I wasn't like HEY I NOTICE YOU. I never ask "How are you" unless I absolutely totally mean it. But anyway, I found another way to make a situation unrelated to me about me. Joy. Natalie said that maybe people don't share their problems with me because mine are bad and they feel awkward. GREAT.
I'm such a fucking drama queen. And pretty much everybody's problems are of equal or greater badness in comparison to mine. I have a house, food, I go to a great school. I CREATED my own problem. It IS my fault. I made it all up. I swear. And the result is I ignored my friends and the fact that one in particular whom I love is hurting and sad and I was too busy dealing with the problem I CREATED. Grrr I hate myself.
I was too late to listen. GAH WHY DO I KEEP THINKING OF ONLY MYSELF.
Today I snhuffled Patty as we watched an extremely poorly made PBS documentary.
All in all, the Remeron is all right. It makes me hungry. It has only been a week so I can't expect it to be working. I wish it would. I'm not really sure I can last until it kicks in.
and oh yeah
STOP TELLING ME I'M FUCKING TIRED
I'm so sick of people saying, "You look awful", "You look tired"
It's like THANKS BITCH, I THOUGHT I LOOKED FINE TODAY.
I'm such a fucking drama queen. And pretty much everybody's problems are of equal or greater badness in comparison to mine. I have a house, food, I go to a great school. I CREATED my own problem. It IS my fault. I made it all up. I swear. And the result is I ignored my friends and the fact that one in particular whom I love is hurting and sad and I was too busy dealing with the problem I CREATED. Grrr I hate myself.
I was too late to listen. GAH WHY DO I KEEP THINKING OF ONLY MYSELF.
Today I snhuffled Patty as we watched an extremely poorly made PBS documentary.
All in all, the Remeron is all right. It makes me hungry. It has only been a week so I can't expect it to be working. I wish it would. I'm not really sure I can last until it kicks in.
and oh yeah
STOP TELLING ME I'M FUCKING TIRED
I'm so sick of people saying, "You look awful", "You look tired"
It's like THANKS BITCH, I THOUGHT I LOOKED FINE TODAY.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
My Philosophy
This is me NOT doing a religion assignment.
My Philosophy:
"My problems may not be as big as yours, but they are still mine."
Yes, world, I am AWARE THAT I DO NOT HAVE CANCER. As the saying goes, You may have cancer, but my foot still hurts.
Why can't people use this philosophy more often?
But then again it's really hard to be like
HI ARE YOU TOTALLY AND COMPLETELY FINE IN ALL WAYS EVER?
It's much easier to just say "How are you?" and not give a rat's ass about what the REAL answer to the question is.
Well anyway, I'm a total hypocrite because I get so wrapped up in my own crap to care about other people. Usually, when I get this bad I feel like everything is my fault and I am terrible, selfish person. And not to be a downer, but there is probably some truth to that. Maybe I will stop getting so bad if I get my head out of my ass and look around me. Maybe I can be happy through other people. Maybe I can stop being snarky to my family and realize HEY THEY HAVE ISSUES TOO. Maybe I can stop screaming "Woe to me" everytime I see Schmadam. Maybe I'm just so messed up, People shouldn't care about me. Yups, I'll go with all of those. I think I finally realized I needed to stop screaming "Hey, look at me! I'm bipolar and INSANE! And I have problems! And I'm SAD. Pay attention to MEEEE." I think I need to accept that yes, I have depression. It's part of who I am but that doesn't mean I parade it around. We all have shit. During this whole time, all I have been saying is "GAH I'M SO SAD AHHH". I didn't think how my friends were affected. They all had their problems TOTALLY ignored by me and to top it off, I wasn't much fun to be around. Yeah I'm depressed, but their "feet still hurt". They are stressed, they have boy problems, they have family problems and just because they aren't depressed doesn't mean they don't have problems. And I think I finally need to stop letting my brain chemistry DICTATE every part of my life.
So friends, I'm ready to listen [8 months too late but it's worth a shot].
My Philosophy:
"My problems may not be as big as yours, but they are still mine."
Yes, world, I am AWARE THAT I DO NOT HAVE CANCER. As the saying goes, You may have cancer, but my foot still hurts.
Why can't people use this philosophy more often?
But then again it's really hard to be like
HI ARE YOU TOTALLY AND COMPLETELY FINE IN ALL WAYS EVER?
It's much easier to just say "How are you?" and not give a rat's ass about what the REAL answer to the question is.
Well anyway, I'm a total hypocrite because I get so wrapped up in my own crap to care about other people. Usually, when I get this bad I feel like everything is my fault and I am terrible, selfish person. And not to be a downer, but there is probably some truth to that. Maybe I will stop getting so bad if I get my head out of my ass and look around me. Maybe I can be happy through other people. Maybe I can stop being snarky to my family and realize HEY THEY HAVE ISSUES TOO. Maybe I can stop screaming "Woe to me" everytime I see Schmadam. Maybe I'm just so messed up, People shouldn't care about me. Yups, I'll go with all of those. I think I finally realized I needed to stop screaming "Hey, look at me! I'm bipolar and INSANE! And I have problems! And I'm SAD. Pay attention to MEEEE." I think I need to accept that yes, I have depression. It's part of who I am but that doesn't mean I parade it around. We all have shit. During this whole time, all I have been saying is "GAH I'M SO SAD AHHH". I didn't think how my friends were affected. They all had their problems TOTALLY ignored by me and to top it off, I wasn't much fun to be around. Yeah I'm depressed, but their "feet still hurt". They are stressed, they have boy problems, they have family problems and just because they aren't depressed doesn't mean they don't have problems. And I think I finally need to stop letting my brain chemistry DICTATE every part of my life.
So friends, I'm ready to listen [8 months too late but it's worth a shot].
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
WOW I'M AN EMO CREEP
I need to stop that....yeah.
ANYWAY.
MY FUZE HAS MILK IN IT AND I AM ALRMED. AHHHH.
That was my alarmed voice.
And yay Slumdog is out on DVD.
Why, oh why did the Pussycat Dolls ruin Jai Ho? To quote Carly, "They're all like JAY HOOOOO *look at my boobs*
Ohhh and also. I LOVE me some Kid Cudi. He seriously is very talented. I am digging Welcome to Heartbreak by Kanye simply because of Kid Cudi. Day n Nite is fantastic but I want to BUY ALL HIS SONGS.
I also have no words. :(. This saddens me but then again, it doesn't. Grammar is boring.
WAIT....
Word: Phalarope.
Meaning: no idea
ANYWAY.
MY FUZE HAS MILK IN IT AND I AM ALRMED. AHHHH.
That was my alarmed voice.
And yay Slumdog is out on DVD.
Why, oh why did the Pussycat Dolls ruin Jai Ho? To quote Carly, "They're all like JAY HOOOOO *look at my boobs*
Ohhh and also. I LOVE me some Kid Cudi. He seriously is very talented. I am digging Welcome to Heartbreak by Kanye simply because of Kid Cudi. Day n Nite is fantastic but I want to BUY ALL HIS SONGS.
I also have no words. :(. This saddens me but then again, it doesn't. Grammar is boring.
WAIT....
Word: Phalarope.
Meaning: no idea
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