What are blogs for?

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

I'm not the person who reads up links written by bots per dime on search engines. Ranging from topics like how to handle yourself after a meltdown/Paris Hiltonesque sex-tape leak scandal or just losing on your friends to their bad judgement, I believe in opinion and advice by real people. People who have some idea about the personalized account of what went down, how we are not living in a picture perfect world and the unicorns don't poop rainbows. However, I may be exhibiting behaviour, that puts me in the league with the idiots who indulge in former, in the recent past. Speculate all you want, but there are things about dissolution of friendship and trust that goes beyond my understanding. Calling off the trust, respect and faith over the modern mode of telecommunication beats logic. Over an year of holding someone's spine regardless of the crap that went down erased and replaced by momentary pleasure, only to be accounted over fucking instant messaging device and cellular device. Not to forget the upstanding idea of rejection at the deepest level. 


I've been prone to people leaving me. A lot of this in recent past has made me question about human beings and their resemblance in behaviour to that of a snake shedding skin or a chameleon changing colours or I, changing my nail paint. The words, promises keep ringing in my ear. Why won't they? If your claim to fame includes knowing your friends inside out, it will drive you to the walls once they declare out loud, how insignificant you are to their future plans and growth and thus, fuck off. 

Some would get gracious, others would believe in courtesy. However, when you get past all of this farce, all you're left with is a big fucking wound and once that breaks, it's painful pus all over your skin and theirs. It's messy, uncontrollably painful and makes you question your karmas. There are times you spend the night staring at the ceiling, wondering if you're really as wretched as they believe you to be or whether your other friends, who've decided to stick by you have a propaganda as though, you deserve nothing but misery. Invariably, there are questions and there is no denial to the fact that atleast once you're compelled to think, "why couldn't I be the one to call it off?". If you've been the one to call it off, congratulations. You've balls of steel or your poker face is exceptionally German to have pulled this circus stunt off without feeling half an iota of guilt or pain. 

Sometimes, I wish I were a bot too. In an alternate universe comprising of stone hearted technological fucktards, you and I would be friends. But then again, we'd be manipulated by others and the same way, you and I would part. Only, there wouldn't be dissolution of trust and broken promises. Just battery discharge. 

Amongst all the fun and festivities, I forgot to mention. I've ticked off producing (I prefer this term over 'directing') a TV Show Pilot (live, bitches) off my bucket list. To finding new goals and accomplishing it, the kind that shan't involve humans. 
And, on a completely unrelated note,

दीपक बगैर कैसे परवाने जल रहे हैं ?/कोई नहीं चलाता और तीर चल रहे हैं।

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