Some Unbirthdays Chronicled

The Rennaissance Period

2009-01-09T01:31:00.000-08:00

Circa October 2007 I halted my, until then, quite regular scribblings in my diary (always DIA never DAI :D !!!)I had one entire volume dedicated to dissecting a Dastardly Diable.And if that wasn't enough a quarter of the one that came before that and half of the one that followed were filled with fairytale fabrications on That False Fool! And this hiatus after seven years of conscientious diary maintaining.I couldn't bear the soppy stuff I was spewing.

Boss (an affectionate sobriquet,though she Is in point of fact) asked me recently whether I was honest with myself when I used to write. We'd already discussed that I'd discontinued this once dear activity.A resounding "NO!!!" thundered inside my head.So I shook it,shaken.Now is when i can acKnowledge that I wasn't being honest with myself in all those gushing descriptions.Everything was novel and exciting.Each entry was tinted with the rosy hue of teen ardour.Not completely off the mark but not quite on target either,you see.And when you're not hitting the nail on the head even the littlest things omitted can lead to a huge oversights.

As the curtain fell abruptly at the end of each Big act I found myself more and more lost.A head filled with negativity that prevented me from realising (and I mean this in the most literal way) my potential.Misanthropy with a side order of angst.

I miss(ed) myself as I used to be.Eleventh standard and fresh from a convent,happy to be dressing in oversize shirts and faded jeans to College.No more blue bloody bloomers.Finally able to wear kajal during lessons and humongous earrings whenever I plesased.I remember standing outside the BCL (when it was still BCL and not BL) one afternoon with Ulka and Tanvi and my backpack exploding from the strain of carrying not textbooks but so many,numerous diaries,journals and scribbling pads.

There was The Little Book Of Small Delights that I only wrote in with purple ink.There was the tiny thing I was going around asking everyone in History class to write in because I'd decided that madness and creativity were correlated and I wanted to test everyone's levels of madness (FYJC History,ya!) and thus creativity.There was the six in one,mulitcoloured tome that I used to drabble in and irk an unintroduced Ulka with during Rambo's early morning French lectures.All these in addition to some three already filled personal journals plus one dedicated to the writing equivalent of yammering and another to meanings of new words.And I was always open,honest and happy in my own skin.Loved myself.

I suppose during the entire debacle that came in between the frenzied writings and the hiatus I got so caught up in loving someone else that I neglected myself.Which have been attested to by the enteries I made during the time.

What a crime!!!There's a reason why on planes they tell you to put the oxygen mask on yourself first before you try and help anyone else when cabin pressure drops.You cannot effectively do anything for anyone else if you are not secure yourself. And I can think of no exceptions.

But as the good song says,once I was lost but now I am found.And well founded (in an unbalanced sort of way!) in my contentment too.Love and respect yourself so you may better love and respect others.Something I lost my grip on for a while but now is stronger.My sister has a boyfreind and I'm giddy with pleasure for her and for myself too.He's got good taste in music,yaaaaaay!And,yeah,I care about someone too :D

Time to end the dark age and rejoice at the fullness,the richness,the beauty and joy of life for the rest of my life.Time to continue with chronicling and then inscribing various notebooks with things inane,insane,profane even mundane :)

And as I was writing this an eensy,weensy fluorescent yellow spider crawled across the screen...how cute is that!?
Aw!

Je ne sais quoi...

2008-12-16T15:28:00.000-08:00

I feel that hightened sense of emotionality.It hasn't been quite this powerful in a few months.I find myself aching to express myself through my body,again.There's that restless energy,that gnawing angst and it's all beautifully fierce,doubly-edged with the promise of searing pain and potent pleasure.MmmmmI'm longing to throw myself into water and cut through it.Breast stroke,head up and down,breathe in air,breathe out into water.I miss my stubborn,beautiful, dark bay mare.That glossy,sweating coat, the pungent stable fragrance. I miss that intutive understanding that passes between horse and rider.I miss riding.Holding on to her back with my knees, and moving in a steady tempo,increasing and decreasing it as I please or, sometimes, as she pleases.I miss her moodiness and the way she always knew when I wanted to go faster.Dance practice at the Kimaya.That feeling of thorough beauty and then unleashing it through a swivel of the shoulder or a long,increadibly satisfying stretch of the body.Unleashing.Beautiful,vibrant word!Seems to encompass a spectrum of music,colour and all that energy and spirit in it's throes.It's times like this that I notice the colour purple,in fields and everywhere else.And not just purple but every violet,indigo,blue,green,yellow,orange,red and all those in between and beyond.Music hits harder and sounds lovelier.Times like this where I guard what I have jealously and it is une jalousie si belle.Et enfin,it is times like these,when I appreciate the je ne sais quois that pervade the cosmos.Blood and the full moon...intoxicating coupling.

Once Upon A Month

2008-06-15T12:27:00.000-07:00

The Goddess is displeased.
Let it be heralded in all the land.
Let libations be offered Her and fervent prayers be pronounced to placate Her.
Men shall prostrate themselves at Her altar and weep until their tears are not salt but bloody blood blood.
And yet their greatest pain will be in not letting Her name pass their unworthy lips for that will invoke Her rawest fury upon them.
The Goddess is bleeding and She is displeased.
**A curse upon all your houses**