Small Things

Okay,  so I keep thinking I should write.  But about what?  I actually have a hell of topics going on in my head,  but I don't think I can pursue just one.  My head is all over the place.  Last couple of weeks,  I have stressed myself out,  tried too hard and achieved absolutely nothing. And when you don't give yourself time,  attention,  it's... I don't know,  for me it was like, I was always tired, I never felt like I got enough rest or enough sleep,  even though my working hours were not bad.  It's apparently all to do with your mind.  I was stressed stressed and stressed.  I still am,  but I guess not so much.  The thing is,  medicine  (as of the moment,  the subject and not the whole course), makes me nervous. It's so vast and rapidly changing and advancing field, and its vague,  most of the time. I remember appearing my medicine final exams and I was near wetting myself.  So am doing my medicine appointment for internship, and have to stay on-calls,  a

I have been staring at empty pages, trying to think of something to write. There are a thousand things I can write about, I have a thousand opinions to share. But I don't want to write about any of them. Writing, I do not do it for the readers, I do it for myself. These opinions that I have, I do not have to write them down to know them, to understand them. I want to write about the things that confuses me, that haunts me, but I cannot. I do not have words to describe them. I do not have a starting to all the commotion in my mind. This situation is definitely not new, but it has never gone this long. Tomorrow, may be tomorrow I will have the words, I will have this figured out. May be tomorrow I will have my life sorted out. May be tomorrow, everything will fall into place. May be tomorrow I will be happy without a doubt in my mind. Tomorrow seems to be too far away. We have the right to do what we want with our life. But, the extent to which we can stretch our arms depends u

I am sure you have heard about  people who work at the 11th hour. Hello, you know me. I do my work at the 13th hour (well that is not saying much if you think that the day has 24 hours, but lets stick to the classic analog clock). And when I say 13th hour, please don't imagine me trying to bribe someone. So what do I mean. See, 11th hour work involves, for an example (and probably the only time I do any work) during an exam, doing crash course the night before the exam, studying all through the night, burning the midnight oil, etc. I am not like that, I believe in sleeping adequately before exams, so even if I don't know much, I will retain the functioning capacity of my brain, to bluff around what little I know. So what does the 13th hour work involve? When you finish writing your paper early (while everybody else is furiously scribbling, and you have exhausted even your think tank), you try to give yourself marks based on your answers and past experience, and see if

The most beautiful,The most desired and the most annoying. The one character, the protagonist of the story, that you hate so much and yet you can't help but find yourself at the edge of your seat hoping things will work out for her. One of the most annoying character I have ever read, and the most admirable too. You hate her but you can't help admire her. She breaks all stereotypes of what a woman can be and should be. Yes, she is often pure evil, but she ends up doing more for the good of the people she is caring for than someone with a kinder heart. She is an egoistic character who thinks she is always right, and has to do things on her own terms, and people just detest her, (and you just detest her even as a reader) but when she achieves her goals, it's not only her that benefits from it. she is always carrying this huge burden on her shoulder, never showing it, never losing her grace or her pride. And she suffers from so many misfortunes and setbacks but she neve

Pen is mightier than the sword, The sword pierces the body, Word pierces the soul. The wound that is not seen, is never understood, The harm is so much greater than the good, More painful than the bodily wound could ever be, It drags us down with us, Six feet underneath.

I am scared of this loneliness I am wrapping myself in, My thoughts are dark and heavy, they are sucking me in, I feel like I have nothing to hold on to, and every reason to let go. The future scares me. I sacre me. I want to give up. I want to give in.

This is the first time I have started writing with the title first in mind. I know what I want to write about but I do not know what I am going to write. Okay, freedom, the word has different meaning for different people, in different situations, in different generations. Am just goanna focus on my personal definition; I am not aware of this world, I am only aware of my own emotions. While being in a relationship, I wanted to be single, especially the last few months. Not because I was unhappy. If I say I wanted my freedom, one would probably understand that he was a possessive guy. But what I wanted was my time for myself, where my heart was free from shackles. ( I think am still explaining this poorly.) I had this habit of waiting for him, for his status to change to online, for that beep of his message-that consumed a lot of time. And on the days I got frustrated realizing how much time I was wasting on it, and didn't bother going online myself, I would start feeling

I am kind of beginning to understand depression, and understand a lot about deliberate self harm. When you stop being the cool observer, and wear those shoes, the perspective is so different. I thought people did it for attention. Now I know it's not always that, it's not always that simple. When your pain is so intangible and unrelievable, there's great temptation to cut yourself and feel that tangible pain instead. Focus all you energy and attention on it and hope to enjoy the feeling of being healed, however temporary, as the pain subsides. A form of coping mechanism. And you think that you will find these scars your glory, your battle wounds, something tangible, perceivable, something that you can see, of a war that you are fighting in the darkness of your mind, away and alone. A part of me is glad I am here. If someone who is so loved, and knows that she is so loved can stand on this doorstep, anyone can. I hope I will not succumb and not open that door. B