So if I post about how I've been as useless and as happy as a puppy on crack lately, I'm going to come across as a tad bipolar. So I will say this instead:
What I want is a long lazy day with overcast skies and wide open windows. Good music perhaps. Banana bread that I made. Port wine is a possibility but not a necessity.We could watch a movie or two. I could relax. It would be so easy. Like breathing.

General Fuckery

so i wake up in the morning, and i'm immediately hit with a reminder of exactly why i felt the urge to get shitfaced these last two days. wake up, go to work, meet people, turn up, tune in, drop out. drop out, drop out, drop out. drop out of character, drop out of whatever person you're supposed to be working towards becoming, drop out of your inhibitions and just spew whatever you're thinking- no say Everything you're thinking to the point where you can't even remember what you said anymore, because you've been speaking Excessively. have didireallysaythat, didireallydothat, butidon'tremember moments over and over again. just stop thinking about it because every time you do, it makes you cringe. excessive cringing will definitely give you wrinkles and aggravate the knot of tension in the spot exactly equidistant from your shoulder blades.stop cringing. be unable to stop cringing. drink some more. do more stupid things. cringe more. stagger home, pass out. wake up with everything still spinning. start off the day and do it all over again.
trivialize everything. nothing important must EVER get out. feel unsure. feel unsure about everything. disconnect to such an extent, that you can't figure out how to switch on again. briefly feel like things have changed irrevocably, have #darkmomentsomanyfeelingsohthevoid and pass out. feel permanently zoned out, like your brain has evaporated somehow leaving you with a little dust and a propensity for hedonism.
ache. ache for things you're afraid to vocalize. ache to run away. ache for something Permanent. wish that you could take a great big stamp and go around labeling things just so you'd know they exist. crave security, crave rootlessness, crave reassurance, crave reciprocity. always, always, always crave cake.
listen kids, alcohol is not the way to deal with your problems. trust me, i should know.
feel impatient, feel insecure, feel betrayed, feel paranoid, feel unreal. go around checking off cliches one by one. regret things for only about a millisecond, cuz that's when you start doing more things and there's no time to think. maybe it's better this way. balance? what balance?
feel incredulous and laugh at yourself a little because a few days ago, you were so fucking happy, it wasn't even real. 

Rainy day weather. The whole house has become dark and no one is switching on the lights. It is brilliant in a gloomy atmospheric way, only I'm not gloomy- there's a little kid squeeing somewhere in my brain. She is also doing somersaults.
Perfect, perfect, perfect for sitting on the balcony in tattered shorts and tee with a book that I will start and finish by today. There is just something beautiful about the way a pair of tattered shorts and falling-to-pieces ganji can make you feel. Weirdly connected but disconnected to your body at the same time. Like my limbs aren't a part of me, but they're something I can appreciate the there-ness of. God bless whoever thought it would be a good idea to start ripping up pants.
There are two books I'm longing to sink my teeth into, and I can't decide which one to start first. Of Mice and Men, or Confederacy of Dunces? Who knows these things? By the end of today, I shall.
It is the time for breathing in deeply, listening to exclusively hindi music and reading. With a fruit to munch maybe. So I goes. Excuse the incoherence- I'm frequently incoherent, but when I'm being incoherent in this way, you know I'm happy.
These are my plans for the whole entire day till 5. Which is when there is a party. Did I mention I love Saturdays? I did? Now you know.
Thunder! *runs off*

My transcription angst has started to manifest itself in strange ways. I am beginning to vaguely resemble my Tamil teachers back in school. I have been wandering around the house, laptop in hand, big clunky headphones and thick black glasses adorning said head, with vaguely distracted mournful air. Anyone who even attempts to talk to me is immediately met with shushing, one-handed flapping and a glare only deserved by an axe-murderer or Lady Gaga. My hair is clasped back in an ancient clip that has lost all it's teeth on one side, so it is hanging loose in that vague style that all my South India teachers would adopt back in school- I am lacking the white flowers (jasmine?) though. Yes, I am stereotyping, but what to do? I really did have such teachers. I have begun to speak in a very reasonable sounding Tamil accent (makes owner of accent sound matter of fact, but you can tell she's a decent-nice type) and I keep saying "enduhtheday".
By the enduhtoday, this shall all be over and I shall stop writing too many inane blog posts.
The second file that I have Just started has one Tamil and one Bong accented person. This should be....interesting.
Enduhtheday.