When it doesn't rain it snows

Yeah the cookie crumbles but in who's hand?

All things said and all things done

Life is short

Oh I am young but I have aged

Waited long to seize the day

All things said and plenty done

Life's too short

Ooo could this be

Ooo could this be the day I've waited for?

Another door to peek in through

The floor is filthy but the couch is clean

At the end of the day

That's another day gone

Life is short, life is short

Ooo could this be
Ooo could this be the day I've waited for?

Oh I am young but I have aged

Waited long to seize the day

All things said and plenty done

Oh I am young but I have a past

Travelled far to find the start

Yes I am scared and I've been burnt

But life is short

- Life is short, by Butterfly Boucher

This is in words because I don't really know how to put links up for songs on the blog. And I am not bothered enough to figure it out right now. Go listen to this song sometime. It's nice.

It was a sweet surrender. The problem - I surrendered just a bit too much. I surrendered more than I had.

And now I am finding it difficult to find myself.

Am I ever going to find myself? Am I ever going to be myself again? Yeah, it happens again and all that. I know. But it needs to be better each time to take you as high and higher. Coz the high that you now know is no longer a high. Relatively. You know what I mean? It's like the limits that we have. Every time, usually at the most unexpected of times, we surpass our limits, go beyond our comfort zones, find new territories and create new boundaries. But what do you do if this limit was the farthest it could get anyway? What do you do if this was the perfect high? It was the limit that you didn't even know existed in your world, or in any other world for that matter. It was the dream limit. The fairytale high. What happens after that?

I know. The theory of hope. The theory that I never even knew the fence that I reached ever existed. And now I think that there is no other fence. But that is exactly what I used to think before I saw this fence. So the whole thing can work the same way again and I can find a new fence, it's not impossible. Blah blah. No matter how whatever I may seem, I am a hopeless optimist at the end of the day, at the bottom of my heart. And somewhere deep down, no matter how much I shun the thought at first thought, I will keep believing that the theory can, and will work again. The optimism that kills. Maybe that is why I keep trying to grab these unattainable deals with these unrealistically high risks, high to the level where the high-risk-high-return theory just plateaus and fails.

Hope is a bad bad thing. It makes you build all these castles in the air, it makes you dream like there is no tomorrow. And then when you finally step into tomorrow and there are no castles and no dreams and no nothing other than the same old, it pains like crazy. The piercing kinda pain. I remember a movie which put forth a theory. It hurts when the dream breaks, so the solution to a hurt-free life is to stop dreaming. I agree with that, 110%. That is probably the most logical solution. But I can't bring myself to stop dreaming, hoping, building my dream castles. Because I am me. So the problem is me. And that is not gonna change ever, the fundamentals never change. Maybe I will just have to keep dreaming, falling, and rising again to dream another dream.

On another note, I love friends. The real friends. There is nothing better than the real friends. And I love my real friends. Here is the thing about the real friends, versus just the friends. You need to fall to rise. The real ones know just how far down you need to fall before they catch you.

Charles Dickens once wrote "It was the best of times. It was the worst of times."

Very contradictory, right? But tell me, do you relate to it? Coz I do. I absofuckinlutely do. Yeah, I've been watching Sex and the City. The series. In an attempt to figure out what all the hype for the movie is all about. Which I did watch last night. Pretty fine timepass I'd say.

Back to Charles. The good and the bad thing together. You know we have these things. Things which are wrong but feel so right. And then there are the things which are right but just feel so wrong. It's the clash of what we do versus what we should do. And have you ever realized that the more wrong the thing is, the more right it will feel. Which works the other way round too - the right-er a thing, the wrong-er you'll feel doing it. Twisted stuff in the oh so twisted world!

I'm doing it again. And I'm using the 'one life' policy to justify it. Again. I never fail to amaze myself. It just takes one rotten apple to spoil the rest of the basket. It just takes one failed attempt to crush the rest of your tries. It just takes one wrong person to ruin your trust on all the others. It just takes one bad experience to screw up the rest of your life.

As complicated as the world can get, the laws of attractions definitely leap one notch ahead.

You have the crushes and the infatuations. The stupid gooey feeling you get just by seeing someone, talking to someone, interacting in anyway with that someone. There are the short lived ones. The ones that get boring, the ones that simply die out. The ones that you need to bring you those little bouts of happiness when your down and dull. And then there are the ones that just last forever. The Richard Gere kinds. The kinds that you know will make you weak in the knees even twenty years down the line.

Then come the more complex ones. Love. Lust. These concepts are much more complicated. And that brings about all the confusion, the gray areas. Do love and lust always go hand in hand? Probably not. That is not the right way to phrase it. Lust can obviously exist on its own. Repeat. Does love always come along with lust? Does love need lust for it to be the real love? And we are talking about the opposites attract kinda love here, not the mother/friend/whatever kinda love. The partner kinda love. So do you always need the lust to sustain the love? How much of which do you need to get the correct mix? What if the lust over powers the love in the equation, you know, if there is love but there is much more intense lust along with it. Do we call that love or lust? What do you do with the oodles of chemistry if you do not have enough love to sustain the chemicals in the long term? Just as you can't let love go to waste, can you also not let lust go down the drain?

Someone needs to write a book. The book of love, the book of attraction, the book of whatever. The one with all the answers. And I need to buy that book.

I have a question for you. Why wasn't it me? Why wasn't it the proactive me? Why did it have to be the reactive me? Why wasn't it simply me?

Time can heal the wound. But it can never erase the scar. There is no plastic surgery here.

Fcuk. It's hitting me again. I hate it. I feel like someone just dived his hand down my throat and pulled my gut out. Literally. And on the way out he punctured a chamber of my heart, and I can feel it bleeding inside. Bleeding and filling up my chest cavity. I think I'm gonna choke on the blood soon. Too much going on inside. Way too much than my system can handle. When is this going to stop? Seriously, I need to know. It goes all fine for two days, five days, a week and a half. And then a thunderbolt seems to be let loose from somewhere up there, hitting you when everything is bright and shiny, shocking you back to square one. Back to your old, pathetic, miserable self. Ugh. I am disgusted by myself. By how sickeningly weak I can be, how stupidly emotional I can get, and how unseemingly dependent I can behave. I disgust me.

The world is a complicated place to be in. Seriously. It's like one of those mazes, those puzzles, maybe sometimes even close to a labyrinth. Every decision decides what your next encounter in life will be. Make the perfect choice, and you will step into a paradise with the sound of water trickling in the river and the birds humming in the trees and the lovely flowers and the bright sunshine and all that jazz. Make a mistake and you will be thrown into this boiling-toiling-troublingly hellish place. And it's not that one thing that your decision decides. It's a series of things, and in the worst case, all the series of things that ever happen to you in life. Did you know that that one thing you decide on could change your life? What if that isn't the right answer, the answer that wins you the jackpot? Do we always think about it that way when we do have to think? Do we consider that our life, our one and only life is at stake?!

That brings me to thinking and acting on the thought versus simply acting on the thought without thinking about it. You know what I mean? If every decision we take holds so much importance, we should probably start giving more thought to what we think about. Fine, maybe not all the decisions but atleast half of them. You know, the important ones. But, doesn't all the thinking then kill the whole purpose of living life as u feel like and on impulse and all that gyaan? Contradictory eh.

I am more of the impulsive kind. The one who just acts. Not that I don't think. I definitely do think. A hell lot actually. But at the end of the day, I still do what I feel like, even though all the thinking that I've put into it may tell me to do otherwise. So then what's the point? Of all the thinking. I don't know. Maybe it gives me the assurance that I atleast I thought about it, I knew my options, I had the choice of not doing it, but I did it. Or maybe I just think coz I have a brain which compels me to think. And no regretting. Never. I mean, everything in life is an experience. You have the good ones, you have the bad ones too. Just deal with them. If you know how to spring up to the moon with joy, you need to know how to weep buckets to get over a disaster. The good life is about knowing it all.

It's a game. I'm just hoping that when I'm taking my last few breaths on this planet, I'll be able to say to myself, "Game well played, Missy!"