<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242</id><updated>2026-04-12T17:44:44.401+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The 1634th Random Blog.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Whuaat?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10205466071311823463</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0jcroukleGC6Pr15AUcJjhQnCObPE4pcqvqez-qs1lNGIpQ0H_-5JrCxGgypPvb67WCDnryqtRgDikPrp77yNZPjLum57_tEkgUN15M5-3Q82nKnKGSz-aTRc_103o0M/s220/Photo0694.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>66</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-4824443479660365289</id><published>2013-07-07T15:53:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2013-07-07T15:59:08.107+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Grey&#39;s Anatomy is love.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
I sometimes wonder why I like Grey’s. Why do I go mad watching Grey’s Anatomy when it actually makes me weep at the end of almost every episode? People come up with the most absurd sicknesses. People die. People leave. George (!!!) and Izzie are no longer in the show but I still go ahead and watch it. Does it distract me from what’s going on in my life or what?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
No, it’s more than a mere distraction. I’m completely in love with every character in the show. I love the way Shonda has crafted them. So well thought of, so real. Like when Yang says she wishes she wanted a child but she knows she doesn’t how much ever she tries, I understand that feeling. And when Meredith says that she can’t draw the line between right and wrong, I start nodding like a freak.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Every episode leaves me with something. Every episode has a takeaway. And the best episodes are those that turn out to be creepily similar to what’s happening in your life. If not the situations, the emotions - something that just clicks.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They should make a book of Grey’s quotes. And that shall be my bible.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/4824443479660365289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/07/greys-anatomy-is-love.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/4824443479660365289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/4824443479660365289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/07/greys-anatomy-is-love.html' title='Grey&#39;s Anatomy is love.'/><author><name>Whuaat?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10205466071311823463</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0jcroukleGC6Pr15AUcJjhQnCObPE4pcqvqez-qs1lNGIpQ0H_-5JrCxGgypPvb67WCDnryqtRgDikPrp77yNZPjLum57_tEkgUN15M5-3Q82nKnKGSz-aTRc_103o0M/s220/Photo0694.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-2887596550946475330</id><published>2013-06-09T18:08:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2013-06-09T18:09:46.963+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Getting there.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
There’s so much I want to do. There’s so much I want to say but I won’t. I’ll just quietly accept because I’m exhausted. I don’t know if I fought hard enough and I’ll never know.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That’s the thing about life - you can’t expect to have answers to everything. There’s a point beyond which we should not bother trying, for the sake of our own sanity at least.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For a control freak like me, it’s not easy to let go. It’s not easy to go with the flow. It’s scary. It’s painful and I hate every minute of it. But I’m going to try because now I know what’s worth the pain and what’s not.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I might not know what I want but I know what I don’t want and that’s not so bad.

&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/2887596550946475330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/06/getting-there.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/2887596550946475330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/2887596550946475330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/06/getting-there.html' title='Getting there.'/><author><name>Simki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06537803189466510659</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-7255528178995987823</id><published>2013-05-23T10:59:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2013-05-23T11:00:21.311+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Because no amount of preparation is enough. </title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
“I don’t want to
raise your hopes but…”. Why are we so scared to give people hopes? It’s healthy
to have hopes in something you believe in and why not? Why are we so hell bent
on “preparing” ourselves every time?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
Preparation is highly overrated. Preparing yourself is one
thing and handling the situation when it hits you is another and there is a
huge difference between the two. In the process of preparing ourselves, we stop
“feeling”, we stop experiencing what we must. At the end of it all, we come to realize that no amount of preparation is enough. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
I realized I stopped hoping. I didn’t wait for what I want
because I was too busy thinking of the next step. Having hopes makes you move
ahead, it keeps you alive. It helps you to deal with things better and that’s all
that matters. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
With hopes, come expectations but with preparation, come
expectations too. You can’t help expectations. What you can help is the path
you choose – the one that gives you that glimmer of hope or the one that bogs
you down in the whole process. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
I *hope* I made sense. Too much hoping now :P&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
That’s all.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/7255528178995987823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/05/because-no-amount-of-preparation-is.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/7255528178995987823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/7255528178995987823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/05/because-no-amount-of-preparation-is.html' title='Because no amount of preparation is enough. '/><author><name>Simki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06537803189466510659</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-6195668991161678161</id><published>2013-05-09T11:25:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2013-05-09T11:27:43.157+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The final step.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
I’m not like this. I don’t want to be like this. I’m not going to become like this. Yes, shit happens and all that and people do get into my head but I’m going to stop this from going further. I’ve had enough. This whole year has been majorly lousy and I won’t inflict this on myself due to some people any longer.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don’t want to be angry. I don’t want to be upset. I just want to be fine. And I am fine but when I start thinking, my mind gets fucked up. I don’t even want that. For that to happen I have to de-clutter my life. The much awaited de-cluttering is needed. I’m going to take charge now. The ball is in my court and all this time I was doing nothing with it. Now, I’m going to make a decision and stick to it because I’m certain the only thing required right now is - Closure.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The final step, the final page to this story. The book needs to close. It’s over and I want to leave my past and all those memories behind because carrying them with me just hurts and nothing else. I want to outgrow everything. I am holding on to the past and it’s bringing in negativity into my life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m done trying to mend. I&#39;m done trying to look at things differently. None of it is working. Everything seems like a load of crap. So, the only thing left to do is not give myself a reason to feel pathetic and I&#39;ll do whatever it takes to make sure it remains that way.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Good bye. 
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/6195668991161678161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-final-step.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/6195668991161678161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/6195668991161678161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-final-step.html' title='The final step.'/><author><name>Simki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06537803189466510659</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-1136517114524118318</id><published>2013-05-03T15:57:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2013-05-03T15:57:01.051+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Excess of anything is bad.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
I drank like a fish this month. I don’t do alcohol because I like how it tastes. Hell! I almost hate how it tastes. I can’t savor alcohol, I’m hardly curious about trying the different types and nor am I the “Chardonnay and cheese” kind of person.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The only good thing about alcohol is that it lets me be what I’m unable to be. It frees me, rips me off any inhibitions and I feel awesome. Every time I drink, I want to get piss drunk because otherwise there’s no point of it. I was completely okay with this situation until I realized I’ve been drinking way too often to get away.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Trust me, I’m not upset, depressed or suicidal but yes, to drink and then say/do the things I usually don’t is tempting, I must admit. But that’s it, I’ve got to stop. I won’t go all anti-alcohol but there is a certain degree of control that’s required before I go berserk.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Alcohol is not always the solution and it should not be. I need to stand up and tell people what I feel without depending on a bottle of Rum. Expressing anger is simple; it’s in expressing love where I fuck up. And I’m going to better that.&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/1136517114524118318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/05/excess-of-anything-is-bad.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/1136517114524118318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/1136517114524118318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/05/excess-of-anything-is-bad.html' title='Excess of anything is bad.'/><author><name>Simki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06537803189466510659</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-940048402605875844</id><published>2013-05-02T13:02:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2013-05-02T13:03:08.420+05:30</updated><title type='text'>A different angle.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
Let’s not try to mend relationships and struggle to get back what we used to have because that’s surely not happening anytime soon. Instead, let’s try to create something new between us. I know there’s just one angle we are aware of when it comes to both of us but let’s think beyond that because while we’re struggling to get things back to normal, we’re ruining whatever little is left between us.&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/940048402605875844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/05/look-at-it-differently.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/940048402605875844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/940048402605875844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/05/look-at-it-differently.html' title='A different angle.'/><author><name>Simki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06537803189466510659</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-7692624960335838803</id><published>2013-03-14T10:49:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2013-03-14T10:54:13.564+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The crack.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
And in a moment, what meant so much to you just vanished into thin air. Relationships break, friendships break, hearts break and suddenly something that was such an important part of your life&amp;nbsp;isn&#39;t&amp;nbsp;anymore.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We all crave for normalcy but who are we kidding, we’re not normal. This is not normal. You know what’s normal – normal is picking up the phone and calling you whenever I want to, saying whatever the hell I want, sending you random pictures of what I’m eating and doing all the things I could only with you. That is normal. This, what we’re doing? It’s anything but normal.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I’m not stopping myself here. I just don’t feel like it. I don’t feel like I’m dealing with the same person anymore. It’s like getting to know someone all over again, you know? It takes time. But then again, I’m happy I don’t feel like it because what’s there in store for me anyway.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You might be okay with all this because you initiated it but&amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve&amp;nbsp;taught myself to be fine with it. However, when I give it a thought, it does make me feel bad. But&amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve&amp;nbsp;pondered enough,&amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve&amp;nbsp;done enough,&amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve&amp;nbsp;cried enough. I don’t have the energy anymore. I’m exhausted just as you said you are.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In spite of all this, there is something that stops me from forcing the fact that we should not talk upon both of us. Even though there is no glimmer of hope but there’s just this something that I can’t figure. Not everything has answers so I guess we’ll just leave it at that for now.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It’s sad that what begun so well for us had to see such an end. It’s sad to realize that all that is said about not being the same anymore is what we are going through.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We both know that a lot happened that&amp;nbsp;shouldn&#39;t&amp;nbsp;have and that the crack will always remain..&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/7692624960335838803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/03/the-crack.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/7692624960335838803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/7692624960335838803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/03/the-crack.html' title='The crack.'/><author><name>Whuaat?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10205466071311823463</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0jcroukleGC6Pr15AUcJjhQnCObPE4pcqvqez-qs1lNGIpQ0H_-5JrCxGgypPvb67WCDnryqtRgDikPrp77yNZPjLum57_tEkgUN15M5-3Q82nKnKGSz-aTRc_103o0M/s220/Photo0694.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-4771476561407918902</id><published>2013-02-26T21:51:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2013-02-26T21:52:25.154+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Multitude of emotions.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
There’s no better feeling than the feeling you get when
you’ve conquered anger. When something major happens, the emotions one is
likely to go through ranges from h&lt;span style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;urt to a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;nger to i&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;ndifference.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div align=&quot;center&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
When you’re hurt, you find reasons to get angry because you
hate feeling vulnerable and let down. Then after all the reasons you give
yourself, you finally stop feeling hurt, your ego speaks up and you are pushed
into the anger zone. This is a horrible place to be. You rot here and more than
anyone else, you cause yourself the most pain. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;Anger consumes you.
It doesn’t allow you to think clearly. However rational you are as a person,
this is the time when everything goes out of the window. Even though anger is
short lived, it takes a considerably long time for you to put it aside and move
on because here’s where your big bad ego is at play. Every day seems difficult,
every moment feels like a struggle. The transition from anger to indifference
has to be the worst and the most difficult one but it happens. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
It’s all about that one moment when something hits you and
you realize how clouded your thoughts were all this while. Finally, you start
seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. There’s hope and you start making
your move towards it. And then, the time you release anger, that’s the
beautiful bit. You’re finally done. You feel lighter, less burdened and normal.
And normalcy is great because that’s what you craved all this while. This is when you’ve finally let go and become indifferent. You’ve
walked away from your past, all the happenings, all the doings, the pain,
anger, resentment, everything. You’ve put everything behind you and you are now
ready to bounce back. You’re out of that “phase” and nothing can be better than
that.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
I think I got there just now. It took me a month but it
happened. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
:)&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/4771476561407918902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/02/multitude-of-emotions.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/4771476561407918902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/4771476561407918902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/02/multitude-of-emotions.html' title='Multitude of emotions.'/><author><name>Whuaat?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10205466071311823463</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0jcroukleGC6Pr15AUcJjhQnCObPE4pcqvqez-qs1lNGIpQ0H_-5JrCxGgypPvb67WCDnryqtRgDikPrp77yNZPjLum57_tEkgUN15M5-3Q82nKnKGSz-aTRc_103o0M/s220/Photo0694.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-5477799767860594447</id><published>2013-02-12T21:38:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2013-02-12T21:38:41.777+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Happiness is really simple.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;i&gt;This is a little something on happiness. Something I had saved long back. Don&#39;t remember where I read it but it has to be one of the best posts on happine&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;ss..&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
The question is not if you can do something &amp;nbsp;with someone. You can almost always find something to do with anyone but the question is if you can do nothing &amp;nbsp;with someone.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
All our lives, we try to fill our time and mind with meaningless some things. We believe that if we could fill that void with something, we will be happier. But its not about the something. True happiness comes when you can sit with someone and do absolutely nothing, and not feel like you have to. Happiness is when you don&#39;t feel awkward about it, when you don’t have to continuously please someone to get their attention or get their affection because they are already pleased just because you are in the room. Happiness is when you don’t have to plan every single evening. Happiness is when you can be spontaneous, and you can only be spontaneous when you don&#39;t fear that you&#39;re going to be judged for being silly or downright crazy.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Happiness is simple. Its not what they make it out to be. Happiness is not in expensive gifts and restaurants and crazy amounts of work. Happiness is in holding hands and knowing that you can hold that hand. Happiness is sitting in a hot-dog joint and wiping mustard off of each others collars. Happiness is &amp;nbsp;when someone kisses your hands - if you haven&#39;t tried it, try it. You&#39;ll know what I mean.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Some people don’t get it, but happiness really is simple.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/5477799767860594447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/02/happiness-is-really-simple.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/5477799767860594447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/5477799767860594447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/02/happiness-is-really-simple.html' title='Happiness is really simple.'/><author><name>Whuaat?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10205466071311823463</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0jcroukleGC6Pr15AUcJjhQnCObPE4pcqvqez-qs1lNGIpQ0H_-5JrCxGgypPvb67WCDnryqtRgDikPrp77yNZPjLum57_tEkgUN15M5-3Q82nKnKGSz-aTRc_103o0M/s220/Photo0694.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-8013781462101257437</id><published>2013-02-10T13:45:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2013-02-10T13:46:47.171+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Talk about ironies.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Drafted: Sometime in June 2012&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
Yes arrangements don’t work for
me and which is why I know that now I’m in it because that’s all I want and
nothing else. No favours, no sympathy love, nothing of that sort pictures in
here this time. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
When I look back, I don’t know
what I was waiting for. I think a part of me just wanted to delay the process
because I just couldn’t get myself to trust my decisions. Now, when I turn and
see him there, I’m so glad every bit of what happened, happened because it
couldn’t have been better. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
Sometimes when you’re mindfucked
and you have no clue so as to where you’re going, it really helps to just let
go. I don’t know if there’s a god and what the whole deal about destiny is and
moreover I’m beyond caring about all that now but this whole ‘going with the flow’
thing? Yea, that’s pretty awesome. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
There’s no looking back and we
don’t know what’s coming our way but I know we’re together at this and that’s
all I need right now. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
-&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Drafted: Sometime in October 2012&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
Isn’t it scary when you look back
and see how sure you were about certain things that don’t hold a place in your
life any more? Makes you rethink all the decisions you’ve made till date and
wonder if they too will have an end. But can you blame yourself? Change is the
only constant in life after all. Then again, when someone else’s emotions are
at stake, you can’t help but get scared. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
So many issues can be resolved
with a simple fortune teller, no? But that’s not happening. Apparently they
say, life won’t be “fun” anymore and all that. Bullshit. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
Short post. Okay bye. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
-&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
The above two were drafts. Now, I just want to look at them
and laugh. I’ve been indecisive, I’ve been confused, I’ve been the bitch
(maybe!) and I know it has all had a huge impact on someone else’s life. I know
because I’ve been told but hey, it wasn’t easy for me either. When something
happens, the first person I point fingers at is myself. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
It’s very easy to tell me how much you cried and how much
you suffered and walk away. Obviously you did. You know, I know, all your
friends know. Lots of ‘awww’s and all that, I’m sure. But what you don’t know
is that it wasn’t a cake walk for me either. Even I’ve suffered, even I’ve had
moments of absolute disillusionment. The worst par being that I am at war with myself. I would stare into space and wonder why I was being the way I was whereas
you could just go ahead and hate me. I’ll have to live with myself, with all
the decisions I’ve made and everything else. The journey’s ended for you but I
think it just started for me. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
So thank you! &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
I wish someone was at fault here but no one is. So, I’ll
have to just forcefully hate you because that’s the only way out.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/8013781462101257437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/02/talk-about-ironies.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/8013781462101257437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/8013781462101257437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/02/talk-about-ironies.html' title='Talk about ironies.'/><author><name>Whuaat?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10205466071311823463</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0jcroukleGC6Pr15AUcJjhQnCObPE4pcqvqez-qs1lNGIpQ0H_-5JrCxGgypPvb67WCDnryqtRgDikPrp77yNZPjLum57_tEkgUN15M5-3Q82nKnKGSz-aTRc_103o0M/s220/Photo0694.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-8787428030309212889</id><published>2013-02-03T15:28:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2013-02-03T15:28:17.690+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Of longgg distance relationships.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p dir=ltr&gt;Thinking of entering a long distance relationship? Let me help u with it. DON&#39;T. It sucks to the core. It wont let u live peacefully. All you&#39;ll do is be on the phone or skype at best. So much, that after a point of time you&#39;ll realize that u&#39;re&amp;#160; actually in a relationship with ur fucking phone. And then u&#39;re going to start hating talking on the phone too.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=ltr&gt;Oh not only that it will also burn a hole in ur wallet. Thanks to the phone bills and the trips u&#39;re going to have to make to see each other. People say crap like the good thing is that you&#39;ll at least look forward to seeing each other and that when u&#39;re with each other u won&#39;t fight. Let me tell u its all bullshit. U know why u wont fight, its because u would have fought a million times on the phone already. Who has energy left right? Nothing, absolutely nothing can make up for seeing each other everyday and those hugs that can fix almost anything. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=ltr&gt;Ya so unless you are in&amp;#160; 5 year long relationship or something before a long distance, dont even think of entering one. Also, if u&#39;re so dead sure about ur partner that u know that in spite of the distance, the arguments and every other crappy thing a long distance gets along with it, he/she is the one for u. When u have the patience to wait and the confidence in what u share with each other, that&#39;s when you know u&#39;re up for one.&amp;nbsp; So that&#39;s the only question u need to answer,&amp;nbsp; really. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=ltr&gt;Note: this post was written in a fit of anger but it&#39;s surely not worth forgetting. So there! &lt;/p&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/8787428030309212889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/02/of-longgg-distance-relationships.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/8787428030309212889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/8787428030309212889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/02/of-longgg-distance-relationships.html' title='Of longgg distance relationships.'/><author><name>Simki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06537803189466510659</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-7654047785966631489</id><published>2013-01-27T15:58:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2013-01-27T16:01:24.915+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Inkaar.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p dir=ltr&gt;I watched Inkaar a few days back and was I impressed or what! What a lovely movie. It was about how life is all about shades of grey. There&#39;s no black or white. No one is perfect and nor are we expected to be. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=ltr&gt;The best part of the movie was its unbiased approach. The maker didnt take sides and even though we tend to believe that one of them is right and the other is wrong in the beginning (because that&#39;s how we are taught to look at things) as the movie progresses we realize that its all about perspective. There are different ways to look at situations. You might be right where you are but the other person isnt&#39;t wrong either. It makes you think if you&#39;ve misintrepreted anyone&#39;s actions before or if your intentions were ever misinterpreted.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=ltr&gt;The silliest part about this is that we conveniently make our assumptions. We don&#39;t bother to &quot;discuss&quot; or &quot;clarify&quot;. This is where our big fat ego comes into the picture. We think its better to keep those emotions to ourselves, supress them and move on, completely ignoring the fact that they might just overturn things in future. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=ltr&gt;Just imagine how different things would have been if you didn&#39;t let your ego take over. How many friendships would you have saved. How many relationships would not have ended the way they did. So many, in my case, when I think about it. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=ltr&gt;The movie is a must watch. Ending the post with a few beautiful lines from the theme song - &lt;br&gt;
&quot;Dil pe jane kaha, ghav koinlaga, lafzon ne diye lafzo&amp;#160; ko daga. &lt;br&gt;
Khamoshiyan awaz hain, lafzon mein bas inkar hain..&quot;&lt;/p&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/7654047785966631489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/01/inkaar.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/7654047785966631489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/7654047785966631489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/01/inkaar.html' title='Inkaar.'/><author><name>Simki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06537803189466510659</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-4829569832368041330</id><published>2013-01-18T21:36:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2013-01-18T21:36:39.089+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Oh sweet brother of mine!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Families are such a twisted concept, no? We don’t choose them, we’re given them and we just need to accept them. And as we grow up, we start seeing every family member as an individual. Most of the times we love but sometimes we&amp;nbsp;aren&#39;t&amp;nbsp;able to love. And that kills you because in your mind all that’s going on is - they’re family!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Every family has issues. If you’re living together, that’s bound to happen but I guess we need to make the best of it and take it in our stride. There’s always a reason for the ever protective mother, the drama queen of a grandmother, the intruding grandfather, the bratty younger sister or the really strict father. They make you and the path you choose to take is in your hands. You can either go the “wrong” way and resort to door banging every time something happens or you can choose to see the bright side and learn how NOT to be.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My brother’s 17 now and I remember how I used to panic about never being able to get through to him because all we used to do was fight. Fight for every little thing. “What a child!&quot;, I used to think to myself and get mad at him and now things are so different. I forgot that at that time, he WAS a child and now he’s growing up and as he’s growing up, we’re talking, we’re joking around, we’re having fun along with the screaming and shouting. I was never the girl who had an awesome relationship with her brother but now even though it’s not awesome, we’re getting there.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He’s not a child anymore and I should stop treating him like one. What he feels, matters ..what he has to say, needs to be heard. And I want to be there for him not because he’s my brother but because I like the way he is. One thing&#39;s for sure, he’s at the peak of his &quot;teenager phase&quot; and I can’t deal with teenagers. Period.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I just hope someday we’ll look back and laugh at all this and be there for each other whenever need be.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/4829569832368041330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/01/oh-sweet-brother-of-mine.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/4829569832368041330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/4829569832368041330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/01/oh-sweet-brother-of-mine.html' title='Oh sweet brother of mine!'/><author><name>Whuaat?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10205466071311823463</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0jcroukleGC6Pr15AUcJjhQnCObPE4pcqvqez-qs1lNGIpQ0H_-5JrCxGgypPvb67WCDnryqtRgDikPrp77yNZPjLum57_tEkgUN15M5-3Q82nKnKGSz-aTRc_103o0M/s220/Photo0694.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-4948697528337254057</id><published>2013-01-17T20:28:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2013-01-17T20:30:12.042+05:30</updated><title type='text'>And hello again!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hola! I was just staring into space today and I realized how much I enjoyed writing once upon a time. I stopped and I don&#39;t know why. Today, I feel like it again and I&#39;m done giving myself reasons.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, there will be times when I&#39;m going to whining, serious, random, silly and a lot other things but I want to be able to jot it all down. If I could, I would totally document every thought that crosses my mind because none of it deserves to be forgotten. And also, everything can&#39;t be said on Twitter, for some things you need ze blog ;)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Writing used to make me ponder, it used to give me clarity about so many things. I remember a few conversations with certain people that would make me immediately open blogger and write it all out. Now, somehow all of that has decreased.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In fact recently when I caught up with an old friend, talking about stuff I could only talk to her about made me so happy. I don&#39;t know about others but I need such people in my life -for the sake of my sanity in this crazy world.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Also, I&#39;m going to have to stop saying &quot;there&#39;s no time&quot; which practically was my mantra in the last 6 months. I&#39;ve come to realize that if you want to find the time, you will.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That&#39;s all for the first post of 2013 :)&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/4948697528337254057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/01/and-hello-again.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/4948697528337254057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/4948697528337254057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2013/01/and-hello-again.html' title='And hello again!'/><author><name>Whuaat?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10205466071311823463</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0jcroukleGC6Pr15AUcJjhQnCObPE4pcqvqez-qs1lNGIpQ0H_-5JrCxGgypPvb67WCDnryqtRgDikPrp77yNZPjLum57_tEkgUN15M5-3Q82nKnKGSz-aTRc_103o0M/s220/Photo0694.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-7011489285654134425</id><published>2012-11-30T18:51:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2012-11-30T18:51:02.872+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Susan Sontag on Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinLgmYj7KOw2GI0vnisHiX7lj7J9UaxLje1R9S_mwXqRxuswf5mPRx5Cn3660anZGeCFEZMAU46dZP4MZF-3MFGhnvkHMtp_KSdAIak3grXYRsL7Jus4GoJJF-bbTO2WF4qysaX4_o824/s1600/sontagonlove_brainpickings.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;640&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinLgmYj7KOw2GI0vnisHiX7lj7J9UaxLje1R9S_mwXqRxuswf5mPRx5Cn3660anZGeCFEZMAU46dZP4MZF-3MFGhnvkHMtp_KSdAIak3grXYRsL7Jus4GoJJF-bbTO2WF4qysaX4_o824/s640/sontagonlove_brainpickings.jpg&quot; width=&quot;177&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/7011489285654134425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2012/11/susan-sontag-on-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/7011489285654134425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/7011489285654134425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2012/11/susan-sontag-on-love.html' title='Susan Sontag on Love'/><author><name>Whuaat?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10205466071311823463</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0jcroukleGC6Pr15AUcJjhQnCObPE4pcqvqez-qs1lNGIpQ0H_-5JrCxGgypPvb67WCDnryqtRgDikPrp77yNZPjLum57_tEkgUN15M5-3Q82nKnKGSz-aTRc_103o0M/s220/Photo0694.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinLgmYj7KOw2GI0vnisHiX7lj7J9UaxLje1R9S_mwXqRxuswf5mPRx5Cn3660anZGeCFEZMAU46dZP4MZF-3MFGhnvkHMtp_KSdAIak3grXYRsL7Jus4GoJJF-bbTO2WF4qysaX4_o824/s72-c/sontagonlove_brainpickings.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-1368688614043670376</id><published>2012-06-04T11:29:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2012-06-04T11:30:04.575+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Either here or there.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
I don’t know which one’s better – to be on your own and not
give anyone the power to move you or to be happily in love and give yourself
completely to someone. Both make you feel great and lousy, whenever they have
to.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
I’ve always maintained the fact that we *can* control our
feelings, we can stop ourselves from going beyond that line only if we be a
little more observant of our actions but now when I’m in the middle of something,
none of that makes sense. I know I&amp;nbsp;&lt;b&gt;should&lt;/b&gt; control but this time maybe I don’t feel like it and why should I? Why should think before doing something because it
might not turn out well in future? Why should I get in all the complications
that being practical entails and spoil what I have now? &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
You can never be both. You’re either on this side, loving hopelessly
or you’re using your head and just staying out of the madness and when you try
to act fancy by juggling both, you must know that you’re in deep shit because
you’re hanging and we know the thing about hanging – it ends with you falling
flat on your face.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/1368688614043670376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2012/06/either-here-or-there.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/1368688614043670376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/1368688614043670376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2012/06/either-here-or-there.html' title='Either here or there.'/><author><name>Whuaat?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10205466071311823463</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0jcroukleGC6Pr15AUcJjhQnCObPE4pcqvqez-qs1lNGIpQ0H_-5JrCxGgypPvb67WCDnryqtRgDikPrp77yNZPjLum57_tEkgUN15M5-3Q82nKnKGSz-aTRc_103o0M/s220/Photo0694.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-4856127440433551421</id><published>2012-04-27T23:25:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2012-04-27T23:26:11.819+05:30</updated><title type='text'>What is it, really?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;&quot;&gt;How do u let go when all this time you&#39;ve just conditioned yourself to &#39;control&#39;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;&quot;&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;&quot;&gt;eing calculated and controlled makes you feel safe, sure .. but that&#39;s all that&#39;s there to it. Then when you&#39;re finally settled in the whole idea..enters someone who&#39;s not even close to being that way. And that&#39;s when you realize how addictive that feeling is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;&quot;&gt;That&#39;s the thing - there are no rules and in our whole attempt to find rules and the dos and don&#39;ts in every situation, we screw up what we have. And that&#39;s not worth it. That&#39;s not even half of what we thought we would be left with..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;&quot;&gt;--&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;&quot;&gt;And, hello! :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;&quot;&gt;It&#39;s been so bloody long.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;&quot;&gt;More than a mere writer&#39;s block, there was just so much going on in my head ..I really couldn&#39;t find the time or the exact words to explain the situation.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/4856127440433551421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2012/04/what-is-it-really.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/4856127440433551421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/4856127440433551421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2012/04/what-is-it-really.html' title='What is it, really?'/><author><name>Whuaat?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10205466071311823463</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0jcroukleGC6Pr15AUcJjhQnCObPE4pcqvqez-qs1lNGIpQ0H_-5JrCxGgypPvb67WCDnryqtRgDikPrp77yNZPjLum57_tEkgUN15M5-3Q82nKnKGSz-aTRc_103o0M/s220/Photo0694.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-5772303764112440681</id><published>2012-03-19T18:45:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2012-03-19T18:46:13.295+05:30</updated><title type='text'>It&#39;s a strange thing..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&quot;It’s a strange thing, how you can love somebody, how you can be all eaten up inside with needing them - and they simply don’t need you. That’s all there is to it, and neither of you can do anything about it. And they’ll be the same way with someone else, and someone else will be the same way about you and it goes on and on - this desperate need - and only once in a rare million do the same two people need each other.&quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; - Madeleine L’Engle&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/5772303764112440681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2012/03/its-strange-thing.html#comment-form' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/5772303764112440681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/5772303764112440681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2012/03/its-strange-thing.html' title='It&#39;s a strange thing..'/><author><name>Whuaat?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10205466071311823463</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0jcroukleGC6Pr15AUcJjhQnCObPE4pcqvqez-qs1lNGIpQ0H_-5JrCxGgypPvb67WCDnryqtRgDikPrp77yNZPjLum57_tEkgUN15M5-3Q82nKnKGSz-aTRc_103o0M/s220/Photo0694.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-4304762121986360732</id><published>2012-03-12T14:54:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2012-03-12T14:54:58.281+05:30</updated><title type='text'>#NoteToSelf.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;I need to calm the fuck down.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;Like breathe. Relax. Take it slow. Stop over thinking. Quit being so hyper. Eat thoda less. Stay away from alcohol. AND JUST CHILL.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;Also, a tad bit more of confidence won&#39;t really harm. You know?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;That&#39;s it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/4304762121986360732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2012/03/notetoself.html#comment-form' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/4304762121986360732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/4304762121986360732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2012/03/notetoself.html' title='#NoteToSelf.'/><author><name>Whuaat?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10205466071311823463</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0jcroukleGC6Pr15AUcJjhQnCObPE4pcqvqez-qs1lNGIpQ0H_-5JrCxGgypPvb67WCDnryqtRgDikPrp77yNZPjLum57_tEkgUN15M5-3Q82nKnKGSz-aTRc_103o0M/s220/Photo0694.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-6895018633138455709</id><published>2012-03-09T12:41:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2012-03-09T12:46:25.879+05:30</updated><title type='text'>It&#39;s back and I&#39;m not surprised.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;I’m back in that phase where I’m sulking about my ‘uncertain’ future. You know what this feels like? I feel like someone who’s of marriageable age and everyone around her is getting married and I’m this lonely cow who to begin with, doesn’t even know if she wants to get married. That said, I hope I don’t have to see such a day too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;I don’t want to hear about who’s getting admission where and who’s doing an internship in which company because I don’t give a tiny rat’s ass. I have way too much shit to deal with in my life to look into someone else’s.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Everything boils down to the fact the I don’t know what I want. I don’t know if its okay to be this way. I don’t know if its okay for a 21 year old to be this way. Even if its not, I just need to be told that it is okay. Ya, I’m asking for just that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Is it media or investment banking or journalism or MBA in finance or MBA in marketing or advertising or what? FAAACK. I DON’T KNOW. In times like these, I wish I was born in the 50s when there weren’t so many options, when no one expected much of you, it would have been so fucking simple. But no! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Sometimes I feel useless, like I’m not cut out for anything. Do I even have the aptitude for what I want to do? Maybe not. Maybe how much ever I push myself, I won’t ever get there. And what is aptitude anyway? And what is this whole deal about hard work?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Wow. Perfect. I think I should just dig myself waaaay below the ground and die.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;--&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;I’ve noticed that whenever writer’s block strikes, the next morning life gives me something to write about. I don’t know if I should be happy in such cases that I have something to blog about or upset what about happened.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;Don’t be me and start advising me on being positive. I am an optimist and it would be great if I get your permission to be this way on some days. Thankyouverymuch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;I see Rahul Dravid reading out his retirement speech at a conference and I feel like crying. THAT IS HOW MUCH TODAY SUCKS.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/6895018633138455709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2012/03/its-back-and-im-not-surprised.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/6895018633138455709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/6895018633138455709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2012/03/its-back-and-im-not-surprised.html' title='It&#39;s back and I&#39;m not surprised.'/><author><name>Whuaat?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10205466071311823463</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0jcroukleGC6Pr15AUcJjhQnCObPE4pcqvqez-qs1lNGIpQ0H_-5JrCxGgypPvb67WCDnryqtRgDikPrp77yNZPjLum57_tEkgUN15M5-3Q82nKnKGSz-aTRc_103o0M/s220/Photo0694.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-6572200347464488815</id><published>2012-03-08T16:12:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2012-03-08T16:15:57.310+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Before Sunrise.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;I watched London, Paris, New York yesterday and got reminded of this lovely movie called Before Sunrise. LPNY was of course a lame, Bollywood version of Before Sunrise ..actually it didn&#39;t even come close.&amp;nbsp;So anyway, all those who haven&#39;t watched this one ..please do :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, watch its sequel, Before Sunset.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Before Sunrise is a beautiful and a really &#39;believable&#39; love story. The whole movie is nothing but a conversation between Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy and you realize you just can&#39;t get enough them and all that they talk about! It&#39;s one of those movies that you wish never ended.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
--&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Celine: I’d say to my Dad, “I want to be a writer”, and he’d say, “Journalist.”  I’d say, “I want to have a refuge for stray cats” and he’d say, “Veterinarian.”  I’d say, “I want to be an actress” and he’d say, “TV newscaster.”  It was this constant conversion of my fanciful ambitions into these practical money-making ventures.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Jesse: You know what&#39;s the worst thing about somebody breaking up with you? It&#39;s when you remember how little you thought about the people you broke up with and you realize that is how little they&#39;re thinking of you. You know, you&#39;d like to think you&#39;re both in all this pain but they&#39;re just like &quot;Hey, I&#39;m glad you&#39;re gone.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Celine: I always feel this pressure of being a strong and independent icon of womanhood, and without making it look my whole life is revolving around some guy. But loving someone, and being loved means so much to me. We always make fun of it and stuff. But isn&#39;t everything we do in life a way to be loved a little more? Isn&#39;t everything we do in life a way to be loved a little more? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Celine: People can lead their life as a lie. My grandmother, she was married to this man, and I always thought she had a very simple, uncomplicated love life. But she just confessed to me that she spent her whole life dreaming about another man she was always in love with. She just accepted her fate. It&#39;s so sad.&lt;br /&gt;
Jesse: I guarantee you, it was better that way. If she&#39;d ever got to know him, I&#39;m sure he would have disappointed her eventually.&lt;br /&gt;
Celine: How do you know? You don&#39;t know them.&lt;br /&gt;
Jesse: Yeah, I know, I know. It&#39;s just, people have these romantic projections they put on everything. That&#39;s not based on any kind of reality. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Jesse: I kind of see this all love as this, escape for two people who don&#39;t know how to be alone. People always talk about how love is this totally unselfish, giving thing, but if you think about it, there&#39;s nothing more selfish. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Jesse: Why do you think everybody thinks relationships are supposed to last forever anyway?&lt;br /&gt;
Celine: Yeah, why. It&#39;s stupid. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Palm reader: You need to resign yourself to the awkwardness of life.  Only if you find peace within yourself will you find true connection with others.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Jesse: I don&#39;t know, I think that if I could just accept the fact that my life is supposed to be difficult. You know, that&#39;s what to be expected, then I might not get so pissed-off about it and I&#39;ll just be glad when something nice happens.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Celine: You know, I have this awful paranoid thought that feminism was mostly invented by men so that they could like, fool around a little more&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/6572200347464488815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2012/03/before-sunrise.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/6572200347464488815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/6572200347464488815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2012/03/before-sunrise.html' title='Before Sunrise.'/><author><name>Whuaat?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10205466071311823463</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0jcroukleGC6Pr15AUcJjhQnCObPE4pcqvqez-qs1lNGIpQ0H_-5JrCxGgypPvb67WCDnryqtRgDikPrp77yNZPjLum57_tEkgUN15M5-3Q82nKnKGSz-aTRc_103o0M/s220/Photo0694.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-9129616068325938032</id><published>2012-02-23T12:34:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2012-02-23T17:19:14.213+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Perfectly imperfect or Imperfectly perfect?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;He sends you flowers and chocolates and cards. He tells you he loves you and shows you that he cares. He makes it a point to see if you&#39;re alright after a horrible day. He stays on the phone for hours together when you&#39;re travelling back home alone. He does all that he can to make you happy because he says seeing you happy, makes him happy and you just realize how you&#39;ve never met someone who cares so much.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In spite of all that, you feel something&#39;s missing but you tend to overlook that and tell yourself that he&#39;s just so &#39;nice&#39; and you better start falling for him or he&#39;s done so much for you, that you can&#39;t afford to break his heart. But this feeling doesn&#39;t go and you don&#39;t know if it ever will.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You&#39;ve just been blinded by his overly caring nature which often misleads you, making you believe you&#39;re on the same page but deep inside, you know you&#39;re not. You wonder what&#39;s holding you back because everything&#39;s just so freaking perfect. Maybe this is the closest you can ever get to having things like this but when you look at the way you feel, you realize that there&#39;s more to just having things perfect. Something you can&#39;t give a name to at the moment, something that goes beyond all this.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And if you feel that you&#39;ll just quietly &quot;make&quot; yourself feel the way he wants you to and no one will ever get to now, you&#39;re wrong. You&#39;re wrong because such arrangements don&#39;t work.&lt;br /&gt;
They don&#39;t for me at least.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/9129616068325938032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2012/02/perfectly-imperfect-or-imperfectly.html#comment-form' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/9129616068325938032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/9129616068325938032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2012/02/perfectly-imperfect-or-imperfectly.html' title='Perfectly imperfect or Imperfectly perfect?'/><author><name>Whuaat?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10205466071311823463</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0jcroukleGC6Pr15AUcJjhQnCObPE4pcqvqez-qs1lNGIpQ0H_-5JrCxGgypPvb67WCDnryqtRgDikPrp77yNZPjLum57_tEkgUN15M5-3Q82nKnKGSz-aTRc_103o0M/s220/Photo0694.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-7032302904787420411</id><published>2012-02-11T18:46:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2012-02-11T18:46:14.292+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Maybe it&#39;s a phase or maybe it&#39;s just me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;It&#39;s quite funny and interesting to &#39;discover&#39; sudden changes in yourself .. randomly. Especially when you never intended to change and you don&#39;t know how, when and what made you change to such an extent. Maybe it was shaping up all this while and you never knew. You only come to realize when you&#39;re made to face it and then you see that what you &lt;b&gt;thought&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;you wanted ..is no longer what you want now..&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For the longest time, I remember being so open about myself to people and the whole idea of love and stuff ..it would just excite me. And now, it&#39;s so weird. I haven&#39;t completely shut myself out ..but I find great difficulty in expressing myself. I can feel the wall around me and see how I&#39;m no longer interested in anything that involves any kind of dependency or anything at all that holds emotions at stake ..mine or the other person&#39;s.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I was never ever the &#39;wall person&#39;. Seriously. I was more of the types who would look at such people and go &quot;HOW!&quot;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I still don&#39;t know ..is such kind of a behaviour subjective? Like, does it always depend on the other person or can every person under the sun be categorized as a &#39;wall person&#39; and someone who gets easily attached.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;--&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It&#39;s all there in front of me ..but &lt;i&gt;something &lt;/i&gt;stops me from going ahead and just grabbing it and making it mine. I&#39;m going to trust this feeling and just let it be for now. For once I don&#39;t think it&#39;s just me over thinking..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/7032302904787420411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2012/02/maybe-its-phase-or-maybe-its-just-me.html#comment-form' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/7032302904787420411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/7032302904787420411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2012/02/maybe-its-phase-or-maybe-its-just-me.html' title='Maybe it&#39;s a phase or maybe it&#39;s just me.'/><author><name>Whuaat?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10205466071311823463</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0jcroukleGC6Pr15AUcJjhQnCObPE4pcqvqez-qs1lNGIpQ0H_-5JrCxGgypPvb67WCDnryqtRgDikPrp77yNZPjLum57_tEkgUN15M5-3Q82nKnKGSz-aTRc_103o0M/s220/Photo0694.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-5496064860484843563</id><published>2012-01-25T21:56:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2012-01-25T22:00:38.563+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Our time here is over.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;I&#39;m one of those who are really slow in realizing the importance of what they have while they have it. And when it&#39;s finally gone, reality dawns over me and &quot;happy realization&quot; it is!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;We had our graduation ceremony today and I was just thinking about how everyone&#39;s going to cry on the farewell day and I won&#39;t even feel half as bad because hell there was a time when I couldn&#39;t wait to be done with this college and the travelling and the early morning classes and the guilt pangs! Just when I thought I would be relieved, I realized maybe that&#39;s not it. Maybe I will miss this college and my friends and our class and everything that came with these three years of my time spent there.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sure life was hard when I initially started off. I hated that place. I hated every bit of it. I couldn&#39;t wait to run out of college every afternoon and be with &#39;my&#39; people, the familiar people. But that&#39;s how it is right? Even when you don&#39;t want to face some things, life some how just pushes you to and you realize that you can face it and that it&#39;s not as bad as you had imagined it to be. It was all so unexpected and it&#39;s amazing to see how things worked out because I actually thought I&#39;ll turn out to be some miserable wreck by the end of these three years.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I seriously don&#39;t know if this feeling&#39;s got more to do with the fact that college is over or that it&#39;s that time when the &#39;big change&#39; comes knocking at your door. There&#39;s no &#39;we&#39;ll cross the bridge when it comes&#39; because this is it, the bridge has come and there&#39;s no turning back. This is where we take off. This is where it starts all over again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/5496064860484843563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2012/01/times-up-and-its-time-to-move.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/5496064860484843563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/5496064860484843563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2012/01/times-up-and-its-time-to-move.html' title='Our time here is over.'/><author><name>Whuaat?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10205466071311823463</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0jcroukleGC6Pr15AUcJjhQnCObPE4pcqvqez-qs1lNGIpQ0H_-5JrCxGgypPvb67WCDnryqtRgDikPrp77yNZPjLum57_tEkgUN15M5-3Q82nKnKGSz-aTRc_103o0M/s220/Photo0694.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5067734694917625242.post-8258882068608266038</id><published>2012-01-17T23:26:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2012-01-18T16:07:18.898+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Absence makes the heart grow fonder? Maybe not.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;We all have all kinds of people in our lives. Everyone is there for a purpose and you share something different with each and every one of them. Even though &quot;purpose&quot; sounds very crude, that&#39;s what it is at the end of the day. But how do you know if you&#39;re talking to that person because you&#39;re just plain used to him/her or because you genuinely can&#39;t afford losing that person and that he/she is actually&amp;nbsp;irreplaceable. So, where do you exactly draw the line?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As ironic at it sounds, I think the only way you realize is when the person leaves for a while. Leaving to return? Maybe yes or maybe that&#39;s just the end of it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Very random and convoluted thought. I know. I guess I just ace the &quot;skill&quot; of ruining things by dissecting every emotion and every thought that crosses my mind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/feeds/8258882068608266038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2012/01/absence-makes-heart-grow-fonder-maybe.html#comment-form' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/8258882068608266038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5067734694917625242/posts/default/8258882068608266038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://weird-ass-blog.blogspot.com/2012/01/absence-makes-heart-grow-fonder-maybe.html' title='Absence makes the heart grow fonder? Maybe not.'/><author><name>Whuaat?</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10205466071311823463</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0jcroukleGC6Pr15AUcJjhQnCObPE4pcqvqez-qs1lNGIpQ0H_-5JrCxGgypPvb67WCDnryqtRgDikPrp77yNZPjLum57_tEkgUN15M5-3Q82nKnKGSz-aTRc_103o0M/s220/Photo0694.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry></feed>