a note

If he’s ever told you that you’re wonderful then you’ve heard everything there is to hear. Stop listening. Close your ears to the rest of the world. Don’t doubt yourself anymore because you are loved. You matter to someone. Never question your existence because it’s true, you exist! You exist as a lovable beautiful being that makes somebody’s world a better place and thats all that matters.

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I just want to hear stupid shit

Yes, complete and utter senseless and stupid shit that only makes sense to someone in love. I want to hear him say “your eyes are love”. I’m not in love and my eyesight is very poor.

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aagh

I think crying to sleep is “my thing” along with contential philosophy, penguins and socks. I don’t know if this is general unhappiness, existential angst or depression. On an exciting note, tomorrow I may just crash my first Punjabi wedding reception. One that I wasn’t invited to! How badass am I?

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hmmm

Sometimes I wonder if you think about me, or remember me at all. Sometimes I wonder if I ever cross your mind. Even for a split second. I’m curious to know if you ever think back to our moments in time and wonder where I am or how I am, what I’m doing and how I have been. I have a feeling that you do but only temporarily, in a passing state. Your thoughts of me are suspended when she wakes up and rolls over to your side of the bed and curls up against you, tugging on your white soft tshirt and quietly whispers goodmorning in your ear. When she leans in to kiss you just moments after she’s opened her eyes, messing up and grabbing your already messy morning hair, you don’t remember anything before her. I become Kiran who?

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I may not be lovable. I may never be lovable. Maybe thats a fault in my stars or maybe that is just the way it is. But I’m a lot of other things. Educated, intelligent, kind, a tad bit too considerate, well read and well traveled. I have amazing hair and a body that I’ve been told is like a work of art. I may not be wonderful but I will go on. I have a lot more books to read, countries to visit, pastries to eat and things to blog about.

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I cried

I cried yesterday. I cried today. I’ll cry tomorrow. I’ll cry until I have no more energy. I don’t know what to do. I feel so ugly and humiliated and used. I don’t deserve this but I got it.

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blink

It is now 10:30 pm and I have been staring at this blank word document screen for almost 10 minutes now watching the text cursor blink repeatedly. Blinking. Blinking. Blinking over and over and over and over and over and over over again. I am unable to concentrate on anything else except the constant appearance and disappearance of this tiny line that sort of resembles the number 1. Now I see it, now I don’t, now I see it and now I don’t. I am annoyed that it doesn’t stop blinking. I am bothered that I can’t pause it at the very least. Each of the blinks look alike, there is no difference, not even the slightest. Nothing distinguishes one blink from the previous blink and the blink before that. There is however predictability that the next blink will look exactly like the previous blink. There’s no beginning and no end to the blinking. I am aware that with each passing blink I have lost a second. Now two, three, four, five! There goes 30 minutes! It’s 11 pm and nothing has changed. This blinking cursor is me.

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