yes, you heard an ‘encore,’ and you want more..

i am the only menstruating individual in the family, yet i am proud to say, i am not the only one who acts like they are menstruating….moreover, i would like to add, that after the events of this past shitty, yet equally glorious year, the changes that have occurred in me makes me the person who least acts like they are menstruating  in comparison to the rest of the crew…and i am not talking about post-menopausal behaviour.

yes, i am the self-centered piece of fetus who never did anything for anyone…yes, that’s the anti-glorification that occurs when one begins to claim one’s needs….if you stay shushed up, you’re good…but no one will mention your goodness…and that’s okay…no really that’s okay….but to be rebuked cantankerously, yes literally, cantankerously when all i want to do, is after eons of adjusting, readjusting, anally fucking my sanity i just want to make one move to claim my fucking life…i become the self-centered one.

and of course you have a plethora of examples..i mean, i have been meandering in and out like a vagabond on these very limited streets, and in the homes of semi-strangers, acquaintances, friends, good friends, an ex-lover and an almost-loverish-kind-of-awesome-individual…and even with out those intricate details…you still have examples of my supposed-extreme-self-love and my supposed family-related-anti-love….and if you noticed…it’s only been for this year or so…

past behaviour – forgotten

current behaviour – under the spotlight

reasons for current behaviour – swept under the rug..

oh wait, but that’s not the first thing you swept under the rug so lackadaisically now, is it?!…

truth is, in the midst of all this anger, and resentment…in the depth of the pessimistic cynic i keep watching myself become…i don’t want any of this…i don’t even care….the number of years lost…the number of attempts that have been defecated on…the countless excuses, and even the semi-lies…all i want is my space…not a room, not a corner, not an hour of alone time…but my space, in every sense of the word…figuratively and literally…

i made it through a few galaxies, dodged and got hit in the face by a couple of meteors..and i know this is life, and more will be coming, but i just need this one breather..and then the universe can bring it on..

and in addition to aaaaalllllllllllllllllllllllll your reasons, and accusations (both false and true) you do not need to top the obstacle course that you’ve turned into, with more irrational (and sometimes rational) fears that belong to you, and just you…fears, that are not mine…but just yours…

if i could step into your mind

i’d warn you that it’s quite unkind

to reflect your fears on some one else. (<- this will be part of a song one day, and yes, this is the only philosophical bit in this entire entry, that led me to categorize this post under this section)

i am not you. a few similarities with some one do not make us the same person. i did not live through your life, you did not live through mine. you wanted escape for different reasons, and i want escape for different reasons. your plot to escape was and will be very different from mine. accept it…face it…

don’t you even think it’s a pity that my move, has transformed from ‘something i just will do when i grow up, because i need to be independent’ to ‘the means to escape’?!?


it’s a slightly happy-sounding song for the ‘occasion’..but it’s after i heard this song and researched its details that i learnt  the phrase ‘under rug swept’, because it came from an album with that name…and come to think of it, the song kind of applies…ok, not really.

p.s. i like to use big fucking words, and fuck with big words when i am at the end of my wits..they seem to be more useful when i cannot withstand the insuppressible  urge to just vent out loud. (yeah this is just about how ‘loud’ i get….maybe that’s the problem?)

p.s.s. these may not be big words to some people…but they are to me..i love words.


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