Dial D for Dead Inside
Wednesday, May 10, 2017
I have this friend who's all kinds of pretty. You probably know of her, if not her directly. This friend and I have spent many a long Summer days trolling each other, after helping each other get over the respective (might I add multiple versions of) loves of our lives.
She's seen me through smoking myself todeath mouth ulcers phase. I've seen her through justifying and rationally explaining a break-up present.
"I'm demanding a pen drive because I've lost mine. What do you think of it?"
That, there, was my first taste of being dead inside, but savage outside.
This dead-inside business is amazing. On a spectrum of Narendra Modi cheerful to Arvind Kejriwal upset, you're one step short of serious therapy and one step under a straight face towards life.
You know everything about you is crumbling down. Nobody can help you sleep at night (not unless you search memes for an hour on 'gram). You barely get by a day's work without referencing to suicidal memes or being sullen. It's a bit of a paradox. You can explain dead inside in memes by invoking the dead inside memes.
Hard to get? Here's a cheatsheet.
Foolproof Guide in Identifying Dead Inside Characters Around You.
The ones who face your ferocious dog - No person in their right mind should bond with our pet dog. That's a suicide wish granted.
Last month, a friend dropped by. She insisted on playing with the raging monster. Our monster, who's not seen any human company besides the members of the house attempted to kill my friend. She (dog, not the friend) barked her liver out. She also attempted her best to literally eat my friend alive. My friend was unfazed. She had plonked herself on the floor of my room and played with the beast for about half an hour. By which time, I dressed for the evening out that she had come to pick me for. I don't know how she survived.
tl;dr - If they like your dog, they're dead, inside and outside.
Eating Vegetarian Meals - This is a wee bit unfair on the vegetarian dead inside fellas but if your meat eating, carnivore of afoodie friend willingly orders a Soya Kebab or insists on grabbing Rava Idli with you, then they're most definitely dead inside. People would like to put Sabudana Wada in the same category but I choose to disagree.
tl;dr- Last meal before death? Gol gappe.
Run to the Hills - Back in college, this man (name on demand) boarded a bus to the hills, because why not. Here I was, desperately trying to cram last minute headings of how ribbon microphone is superior to the rest,
"Listen, do you have previous years papers on you?"
"Um what? I can't hear you."
"Where the fuck are you? Are you out partying?"
"No, er. I'm inside a bus. I'm headed to McLeodganj."
"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK THE EXAM IS IN 12 HOURS ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? ARE YOU ON COCAINE? DID YOU SHOOT HEROIN?"
"Hello? Hello? I can't hear you."
This friend landed back after an incredibly stupid trip and attempted to board a bus almost each time before each exam. Heartache, ladies and gentlemen, is a real bitch.
tl;dr- Book me a ticket to hell cause I'm dead inside.
Slap their loved ones - This is kinda liberating. But tricky. Since you're dead inside, you are always on a lookout for company. Apparently, slapping the living daylights out of people does not help. Neither does taking spontaneous trips to Jaipur. However, one should always try. No guarantee of whether your relationship will live or will it also be dead inside after you slap. At your own risk, people.
tl;dr- Slap precedes death. If you die, you die. If you live long enough, you'll learn to slap better.
Run to Rajasthan- On more than one occasion, people I know have run to various parts of Rajasthan. Locking themselves in a hotel room is said to be great for productivity, after you've been absconding from Delhi, without as much as a word. Or taking a swim. Or hundred. This one time I pulled a disappearing act and landed up in a hotel room in Rajasthan, Man Friday was concerned for my well-being, enough to call me on the hotel landline and talk me out of it. La dolce vita.
tl;dr- Sighseeing is crucial to being dead inside.
She's seen me through smoking myself to
"I'm demanding a pen drive because I've lost mine. What do you think of it?"
That, there, was my first taste of being dead inside, but savage outside.
This dead-inside business is amazing. On a spectrum of Narendra Modi cheerful to Arvind Kejriwal upset, you're one step short of serious therapy and one step under a straight face towards life.
You know everything about you is crumbling down. Nobody can help you sleep at night (not unless you search memes for an hour on 'gram). You barely get by a day's work without referencing to suicidal memes or being sullen. It's a bit of a paradox. You can explain dead inside in memes by invoking the dead inside memes.
Hard to get? Here's a cheatsheet.
That Shitposting friend - There's at least one in every self-respecting millennial, post-hipster circle. They normally identify themselves as growth hackers, digital marketers, advertising assholes or some such. They're in the league of selling and boy do they know how to sell shit. These folks are usually so witty, that most people confuse it for insanity. If you bypass their energy, you halt to discuss how 'creepy', 'odd', 'twisted' they are. If you bypass that and continue being their good friend and liking their posts, chances are that you're dead inside as well.
tl;dr- If dead inside is coitus, then shitposting is the foreplay we all deserve.
The Sleepy Spook - I know a girl who is always asleep. No, she's no Sleeping Beauty and that fable has nothing to do with bringing on life-changing seismic decisions that include dwarves and a prince (or even a pauper). This is a simple category consisting of those who'd rather spend their better part of the day, night, morning, evening and living hour sleeping. They're up at the witching hour, stalking hours worth of material on their social media. They usually know Wiki trivia including what Joe Wright wore to Pride and Prejudice's film premiere in Dublin. These folks are cuddle-y and very humourous, only if they didn't love their bed as much.
tl;dr- Sleeping is just another word for death.
Repeatedly Wear Blue Sweatshirt (for months together) - That person you see repeating clothes during Winter? Yeah, her. She's loaded. She's also heartbroken. She's decided to test, whether the heartbreak lasts longer or her body odour. She'll have a hipster reason to give when you confront her. She'll continue to be Humphrey exiled from the Upper East Side despite having the spirit of Blair Waldorf inside of her. Highly recommend taking them for a plate of Ramen and suggesting them to help you shop. Who knows they might spot a rad Pulp Fiction (1994) t-shirt that'll help you get rid of the blue sweatshirt.
tl;dr- As long as they continue to wear the same clothes, you know they're dead inside.
The ones who face your ferocious dog - No person in their right mind should bond with our pet dog. That's a suicide wish granted.
Last month, a friend dropped by. She insisted on playing with the raging monster. Our monster, who's not seen any human company besides the members of the house attempted to kill my friend. She (dog, not the friend) barked her liver out. She also attempted her best to literally eat my friend alive. My friend was unfazed. She had plonked herself on the floor of my room and played with the beast for about half an hour. By which time, I dressed for the evening out that she had come to pick me for. I don't know how she survived.
tl;dr - If they like your dog, they're dead, inside and outside.
Eating Vegetarian Meals - This is a wee bit unfair on the vegetarian dead inside fellas but if your meat eating, carnivore of a
tl;dr- Last meal before death? Gol gappe.
Run to the Hills - Back in college, this man (name on demand) boarded a bus to the hills, because why not. Here I was, desperately trying to cram last minute headings of how ribbon microphone is superior to the rest,
"Listen, do you have previous years papers on you?"
"Um what? I can't hear you."
"Where the fuck are you? Are you out partying?"
"No, er. I'm inside a bus. I'm headed to McLeodganj."
"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK THE EXAM IS IN 12 HOURS ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? ARE YOU ON COCAINE? DID YOU SHOOT HEROIN?"
"Hello? Hello? I can't hear you."
This friend landed back after an incredibly stupid trip and attempted to board a bus almost each time before each exam. Heartache, ladies and gentlemen, is a real bitch.
tl;dr- Book me a ticket to hell cause I'm dead inside.
Slap their loved ones - This is kinda liberating. But tricky. Since you're dead inside, you are always on a lookout for company. Apparently, slapping the living daylights out of people does not help. Neither does taking spontaneous trips to Jaipur. However, one should always try. No guarantee of whether your relationship will live or will it also be dead inside after you slap. At your own risk, people.
tl;dr- Slap precedes death. If you die, you die. If you live long enough, you'll learn to slap better.
Run to Rajasthan- On more than one occasion, people I know have run to various parts of Rajasthan. Locking themselves in a hotel room is said to be great for productivity, after you've been absconding from Delhi, without as much as a word. Or taking a swim. Or hundred. This one time I pulled a disappearing act and landed up in a hotel room in Rajasthan, Man Friday was concerned for my well-being, enough to call me on the hotel landline and talk me out of it. La dolce vita.
tl;dr- Sighseeing is crucial to being dead inside.
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