Of nothings. And everythings.

-
It is 5 minutes to 3am. I type this on my phone.
God bless this heavenly machine.

Sleepovers rule. \m/

A big bowl of awesome curd rice + ice cream at 1.30am put me to sleep instantly. And woke me up an hour later. Here I am now.

What goes?!
A high I haven’t felt before.
A sudden rush of feelings to the head. Head, not the heart. Head.
A change.
A smile.

The scared thought. Yet the smile. Why?! Or, how.
The doubts. The questions.
God.

Randomness equals awesomeness.
Agree?!

The strangeness. The happiness.
Give in?! Give up?!
But. A simple, what.

The memories. The looks.
The simplicity.
Ah. The beauty.

A teeny-tiny bit of weirdness.
The feel.
The butterflies flutter around too much.
Bad?! Ah, no. Good.

Why the behavior. Why at 3am.

Pink Floyd spoke to me. Serious.
Chris Martin did too.
Very serious.

The songs make sense?! A little bit. Yes.
Or, do I hope they make sense?! Ah, that’s bad, dear.

Why did I grow up.
And when did life happen.

I’m just filling up the space with words. Aren’t I?!
No. I ain’t, fellas.
My blog. My phone. My words. Thou art, who?!

I love the new background picture for the blog. It’s fuckingawesome.

A friend questions me and I quote, “How are you free all the time, Pooja, I doubt you are really studying engineering.”
I died. And laughed.

Is it the sleep I just woke up from?!
Or the over dose of pepper on the last bite of water-melon?!

Comments

Anonymous said…
There is nothing awesome about curd rice :P and ummmm that's the only line I understood :/


Butterfly.
March 26, 2012 at 9:48 PM
that awkward girl said…
Of course. You are a butterfly. :P
March 26, 2012 at 10:32 PM
Butterfly said…
Oooh shuuuut up, Christina or shakira or Sandra or whatever you are :P
March 27, 2012 at 5:36 AM
that awkward girl said…
Im a human being atleast. Not an insect. :P
March 27, 2012 at 10:09 PM
school gal said…
lolzz.. i wish there was a "like" button fr ur last comment pooja..!! :D
April 1, 2012 at 11:30 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Vijay Mallya?

-
Vijay Mallya. The very IPL-ing name!! I won’t be surprised if many girls, ahem!! like me would want to swap places with him. I don’t mean the hot girls in swim suits in the back ground [I’m very much straight, Thank God] I’m talking about the cash in one hand and the kingfisher beer in the other hand. :P There have been times when G and I have discussed ways to get into UBCity (yea we agreed!! We’ve never been there!) and manage to flee away with tons of goods. P and I genuinely had a conversation on how to seduce (yea only seduce, he is old!) the kingfisher man and elope with his cash. We still need to talk about how to escape from his huge mansion with security guards at every turn. Umm..we should put our brains (and not body) to use here because no one will get seduced by girls with huge amounts of cash with them. Cash is the prime interest for any man. Agree right? This is all the non-sense talk that we only do :P we’ll be seriously serious at that time but deep down...
Read more

30

-
The only funny thing about turning 30, is the episode on Friends when they all turn 30. And by funny, I mean sad. And by sad, I mean meh. My only question is, what next? Turning 32. Oh, would you look at that, age is increasing while bra size remains the same. Turning 35. Girl, I think the One came. And came again. And left. Turning 40. Still cry to mommy about period cramps. Aww. Absolutely nothing is what is next. I have no more aspirations, or dreams, or all the things our beloved APJ stood for in life. While my motivation to get up from my bed remains the same (breakfast) the satisfaction of living throughout a day is dropping unrealistically. I finished The Hand Maid's Tale two weeks ago, beautifully written, and the fact that I could relate to woman of such deep emotions was surprising. But the fact that I ran to bookstore to buy the book's sequel the very next day, and to not read a single page from it since - alarming. Turning 45. yaar, mera ...
Read more

Leave out all the rest

-
Of misguided paths. Of dusty roads. Of unknown questions. Of revisited songs.  Of swings and curved slides. Of promises. Given and taken. Of drama. Lived and relived. Of words. Erased and written. Of love. And all that matters. Of days yet to begin. Of eyes yet to smile. Of dreams yet to come true. Of stories yet to be told. Help me leave behind some, Reasons to be missed. Will you?
Read more