Oh sweet, fucked up irony.

Stop it.
Just- stop.

Stop acting so selfish. So indifferent.
Stop behaving like you don't know me, like we've just met, like you think I'm stupid and uncaring and insensitive.
You know very well, that all those things are exactly what I am not.
I laugh to cheer you up, not to bring you down.
I joke to hear you smile, not for that horrible frown.
We're not even in yet, and you're pulling out.
I keep trying to stay afloat, but dude, my ship is going to drown.
Sooner than later, if you're not careful.
You say, don't leave, yet you're pushing hard.
What am I supposed to do? I can't lose all my self respect one more time. I can't.
In life you know whats the one thing I've learnt? No one needs me, and I need you all.
All of you were mad, and all of you I brought back.
I don't regret it, because I love you all. But sometimes, like right now? I think about it, and I feel sad.

I'm so torn and so confused.
I've liked you for a long time. Two years is not two days. It's two years.
I've been your friend in all that time, and I've grown to care for you. Really care for you.
I've told you in all the ways that I can.
What more can I do?
I have feelings too.

I wish I had you to whatsapp all the bullshit of you in screenshots- to you.
I know what you would say. You'd tell me you were being a dick and that I should forget about losers who don't get me.
Oh sweet, fucked up irony.

I think a change, a change will do you good.

I'm in. I'm. IN.
NCA, bitches.
Fuck yeah.

But you know, inshAllah. Lol.

He is so cute. So freakin' adorable. And romantic. But you know. Can't fall again.
Too dangerous- way, way too dangerous.
And over here, there is so much potential, its craaaaaaaaaaazy.
WHY OH WHY.
But I asked- actually, prayed for it, so I dunno- why am I so surprised?
It's all from God, right?

Right?
Hello? Blog?
Answer me.

Men

You're a liar. All of you are. All of you are also power hungry. Power hungry liars with brute strength.
The mix gets more poisonous as more of your unique qualities are listed.
Bad temperred. Selfish. Unreasonable. Emotionally unstable. Mentally unstable.
Stop trying to act as if you're different. You're really not.
Each one of you, you're the same.
Each one of you makes me miserable.
Theres the door.
Get the fuck out.

Its still me, you little bitch.

Heart break sucks.
Friends are hardly true, no matter how much of your insides you scoop out for them.
Those are the two realities of life.

More to come when other tragedies strike.

My Birthday

Its my twentieth on Monday.
The big 2-0 where I'm no longer a freakin' teen. I can't use that excuse anymore, but you bet I'm totally gonna try.
I'm at a point in my life where I'm nothing. I don't have a proper job, I don't have university, I really hate my parents, and I can count all my friends on one hand.
Its sad and depressing, and the worst thing is- I can see change, I just can't fucking get to it.

So this is what I'm going to do, I'm going to pretend some more and make a list.
I'm one hundred percent sure Monday will be a horrible, horrible day of wallowing in self pity for me so I will make a list and throw it out to the internet.
Because what if my Fairy Godmother follows this blog? Privately of course.
I need to help her out.

For my birthday-

• I want a college education, and I want it my way. I want to go abroad, outside of this horrid country, and if not that then I want to go to NCA or BNU to study Graphic Designing.
• I want a room of my own. Just a space which is mine. Mine and not yours, or hers, or theirs, or shared- Just mine. Where I can sit and think, dance and sing, write and draw and not give a flying fuck to you or them or her or him..
• I want friends, and lots of them. The kind that can be called close. The kind that get you and are genuine and cool and have brilliant personalities and no restraints.
• I want true love.
• I want a huge birthday party filled with everyone I know- all there for me. I want to feel special.
• I want that cake. You know the one. The kind of cake that costs an arm and a leg and maybe an eye. The sort that's the definition of toothache, with bright colors, personal touches and a large dose of yummy.
• I want a laptop, gift vouchers to bookshops and body shop gift hampers.
• I want dinner and ice cream at a shit expensive place.

That's all I want for my birthday this year. 

We'll get through the rest of my list next year.

Its Still Me. Sad and Stupid.

I still remember the day when you told me you wanted to spend eternity with me- for the very first time. My innocent heart sped up ten fold at the impossibilty, and the hope that tinged it.
I was so happy that you wanted that, and were actually voicing it out loud. I was so scared that it was never going to happen.
My cheeks warmed at your honeyed words and my secret smile refused to leave hours after that phone call.
But as usual, I was right and you were wrong.
Only this time, I wish I were wrong. I wish I wish I wish.
I miss you. And as crazy and out right retarded as it sounds, my heart still loves you. Your sense of humor. Your soft brown eyes. Your ability to annoy the hell out of me. Your easy grin and that adorable curly hair.
Why must I be so sad and so stupid.

Last Christmas.

I miss you a ton. And even after 7 months, the fact that you left me is difficult to wrap my head around.
It hurts when you dominate my dreams, and how its so easy to talk to you. You'll never know the effect you had. It was love honey, the purest, messy kind. Behind every word was affection and behind every critisism was fear, laced with honesty.
Does that make sense? Probably not. But it was all I ever knew.
Your shoes are so big, I'm afraid they'll never be filled. I wish they didnt have to be and you still wore them.