en route to canada water from north greenwich- an endless traffic jam!

I’m at a junction
Where every malfunction
Plagues each individual
Yet seems oddly casual;

There are rows of red glares
Amidst shrill horn blares
The silence is deafening
But the weather is threatening

I feel terribly testy
Though I was happily zesty
When will this end?
I can’t see the road’s bend!

The skyline is alight,
Impervious to my plight
My patience wears thin
I can’t bear this dreary din

Were I to turn back time
I wouldn’t be writing this rhyme!

Tormented beyond measure, yet there is no way out.
I can’t resume normality, there’s nothing to be done!
I knew of this eventuality, this horrible depravity
I do know I need out
But there is no respite
I am in severe doubt
Of my capacity to love again
Of the ability to find peace
Keenly aware of your incapacity to love me
Equally certain of my own deceptive faith
I persist as a mere plaything in your hands
Twisted out of shape and turned to benefit
Stagnant I remain, unaware of what awaits
Gone beyond extremes of my own imagination
I am held captive by my worst follies
Yet I am inexplicably bound to you
Despite my inevitable miseries

a long day

"and then the cookie crumbled"...

9am
My eyes are burning because they cannot do this anymore, every limb aches in protest and yet I linger on, punishing myself, fighting something that is trying to tell me otherwise. Every bit of good sense asks me abandon this feeling, but I persist in my foolishness.

11am
No, I have not been able to relax and don't think I can for a while. I keep wondering what it will take. Each second the unhappy realization hits me and I feel nothing but misery. The crumbling cookie is all I can think of.

My level of self-destruction is legendary. Oddly enough, knowledge of that fact does not prompt me to act any differently.

2pm
It was time to clear my head, though it was a trip with a purpose. Unfortunately, the stuffy tube ride to Notting Hill did not cure me. The crumbling cookie was all I could think of. Neither the sights, sounds and curious delights of the antique market, my impulsive purchases nor....

6pm
...the endless episodes of 'How I met your Mother' that I blankly watched, upon my return, did the trick.

7pm
I resumed the number-crunching, although it resembled data entry today. I had lost track of all meaning, demolishing tissue after tissue as I went along. The crumbling cookie again.

Midnight
All promises to the self forgotten, every ounce of will astray. It is too powerful and outside my control. I cannot help it, despite myself. In the distance, the cookie continues to crumble.

Extremes

I wonder sometimes if I am blessed or cursed, for everything important to me, functions in extremes. Either there is love to an extent I cannot bear or to a strange degree where I am left longing for something more that I know can never be. It comes upon me in awfully contorted ways, where some days make me feel nothing short of bliss and others bring waves of self-doubt and hopelessness. There are either people who profess they would do anything for you (and actually test that theory, with often disastrous results), while others operate in circles, professing nothing, but meaning everything. Yet when the disappointment hits, it brings with it, a host of irreconcilable feelings. Consequently, I find myself behaving like a classic bipolar disorder case. A lost cause, at that.

I sound confused even to my own ears, yet I am perfectly clear in what I am trying to say. Therein lies the extremity in my own personality. It isnt a wonder then that the people around me fall into one of these two categories. I think there wont ever be that steady balance I am searching for. Or maybe I am just content to let myself be miserable, one way or another. Perhaps I am conditioned to look for flaws that define a variety of "perfection" in my eyes. It is that ideal I am drawn to...whether it lets me down time and time again...brings me utter joy or total despair, is immaterial.

the walk home

Even when there's absolutely no one with you, it is amazingly difficult to feel completely alone. There are people around you who manage to make you feel like a vital part of their experience. The city too draws you into its adventures. It is like living each moment through them, experiencing a bit of their lives and therefore feeling like a tiny, yet significant part of the whole.

I played photographer to a big Indian family (who looked like they were on their first holiday abroad), to a rather cute couple (who for some strange reason wanted a picture kissing on the Millennium Bridge) and an old gaily British bunch of people, probably from the country. I sat on the steps of St.Paul's eating a sandwich, watching people go about their business. I heard snatches of conversation all the way home and concluded that Londoners had two favourite topics of conversation:

1. Love, life and relationships
2. Office gossip

As I walked on, there were wonderfully delectable hot dogs oozing with mustard and a smiling old man selling caramelized peanuts. I smelt gelato as I walked past the Globe and made a mental note to treat myself to it soon (the strawberry flavour, to be precise). Hearing the energetic chatter from 'The Swan", I imagined the cast laughing over some wine in preparation for the evening's performance of 'Troilus and Cressida". Even the Thames didn't seem as grey that day! I continued to breathe in the sights and sounds of London, with a serene expression on my face and a hint of a smile forming at my lips.

Watching people downing their pints, engaged in conversation, I absorbed every bit of the lively atmosphere at 'Vinopolis'. The smell of peri-peri chicken wafted through as I passed Nando's. My eyes scanned the remains of the day's spoils at Borough Market. I finally turned a busy corner on to Borough High Street. At Sainsbury, I talked myself into buying exciting dinner, even though I had food at home. It was one of those days when I would not have resented splurging ten pounds on a nice dinner and wine somewhere. But I was homeward bound!

I turned to cross, decided to be brave and take another route back. I was home within minutes, feeling oddly satiated.

Justice/Fairness

I have never really contemplated the difference between unfairness and injustice. But today my mind was drawn towards these ideas. I realized that the two terms are often used interchangeably, but if you really ponder over it, there are finer differences between the two. They are not completely dissimilar concepts; however,unfairness, in my opinion, is about comparing your own outcomes relative to those of another. Now this could be someone significant to you or not. That is immaterial. Another ready example that comes to mind is an unfair advantage, for instance Phelp's controversial swimming gear that apparently gave him an edge over the others. Some lament that the world is 'unfair', yet others rightly term it as 'unjust'. Does the difference lie in language only?Or is it really more profound?

To me, justice is age-old and notions of injustice, while encompassing ideas of unfairness, include a broader spectrum. For instance, it is unfair that I need a Schengan visa to travel Europe, while Americans do not, but it certainly isn't unjust. However, it is unjust if I as a woman am discriminated against based on the fact that I am a member of the 'weaker sex.' Thus, in terms of impact, justice is a greater concern than unfairness. It transcends the personal and hence assumes far greater significance.

They will continue to be concepts whose boundaries are blurred. They will invariably merge in certain situations and in others stand vehemently in opposition to one another. But these subtle distinctions can make a world of difference, when you take into account the broader implications, both personally and globally.

10 Reasons why you should pick a thesis topic of your choice

1. Imagine your most boring chore, something that you are simply forced to do every single day. (Maybe the dishes or laundry or something!) Anything that is completely devoid of excitement.

2. One of those bitter medicines that do not go down the throat smoothly and that you can taste while swallowing. You keep gulping down more water for it to ease the throat, but that bad taste only magnifies.

3. When you come to think of reading as the least desired activity, when you know you list it as one your favourite activities otherwise.

4. When you create situations in your head where your interviews and surveys seem to take on wonderful relevance; but unfortunately, in your case, you are convinced your research will give you dull, drab answers.

5. You truly believe it will not change the world. It is an 'original' piece of work, twisted to other's requirements and you are left as the dummy who is carrying it out dutifully.

6. There are almost always lunches, dinners and concerts to go to...or mindless films to watch, each time you glance at the readings.

7. The damned 'Dissertation' folder on C drive haunts you in your sleep. You have homicidal ideation and want to tear it apart with an axe.

8. You're always in a tearing hurry to change the subject when fellow students ask you about your topic.

9. If forced to talk about it, you give unwarranted, lengthy explanations about why you were compelled to choose it and how would much rather have researched leadership. You then rationalize that there is always time for that during your PhD.

10. You create 'breaks' like these to vent on your blog and write ten useless pointers that neither relax your mind nor motivate you to get back to work!!

The simplest things are sometimes the hardest things in the world

It is the of the most difficult things in the world to let go. Attachment has this knack of hurting one desperately. There is so much left unsaid.

I encountered something that knocked the air right out of me. I did not want to react the way I did. It took every ounce of control to compose myself. The unhappy realization hit me like a tonne of bricks. It was so unexpected. I had imagined much superior handling capacity. I really used to be so convinced about my ability to deal with such eventualities. It hurt so much, that all I could do was turn and almost run away. I wished I could disappear. I always scorned those who could not face the finite, but that is probably because I have an amazing ability to escape. But today, there was no easier alternative.

I kept walking, bleak, dejected or just to put it plainly, unbelievably sad. But then I paused, got my thoughts together and stayed. My eyes searched for something I could not find. Painful as it was, I smiled, wished I had said at least a simple 'thank you' for touching my life in a way no human being has. Maybe I will say this someday.

But for now, until we see each other again, I will keep walking.

Its going on, nice and easy, controllable I suppose, but spiralling out of my grasp on a few occasions. I thought I was stronger than this. I'm being made to forcibly confront every fear, each insecurity and mindless worry. There is so much sorrow, yet I laugh each day, cherishing every moment, knowing it was to end. The finality is cruelly sharp. I wish I could say nochalantly that it is the easiest thing in the world to move forward and stay on track.

Productive thinking, constructive imagery and lots of self-talk...the one who bravely said she didnt need anyone, is now at these terrible crossroads. There is no light at the end of the bleak tunnel. Yes its going to hurt, but like all things painful, this too shall pass. She will emerge stronger, knowing that everything cannot always go her way. She persuades herself to face the truth each day, fully aware that reiterating it will accustom her to the reality of it all. No of course everyone cannot behave the way you wish them to...life will not necessarily follow the expected path. But telling herself the truth each day is a fruitful exercise, reminding herself the of the futility of it all helps.

Shock therapy

Have I truly disconnected from it in such a way that seems humanly impossible? Why do I behave like this is not happening to me but rather treat it like a bad scene from a third-grade movie. The events play out in my head when I least expect them to. The intrusive thoughts are maddeningly frequent on some days and few, yet painful on others. I wonder if I want it to revisit me, so I can be reminded of the gravity of the most uncontrollable situation I have ever faced. Suddenly, but surely enough, the contradictions begin to unfold...of course it was controllable, I tell myself, while another voice whispers that nothing could have been done to avoid it. Would I much rather let the guilt trips get the better of me or try to calm myself into some semblance of sanity?The answer is confusing. If the guilt ceases to exist, then the whole event is wiped out from my mind. But I cannot have that. I know I must remember every crawling bit of that evening that changed my world.

Decision-making was never my forte, but this one sadly made me fall into the very worst labyrinth that I cannot escape from. Maybe this is what shock feels like. No stress, no fear or anxieties...just a remarkable numbness. A feeling that leaves one so deadened that almost nothing can shake one out of it. Of course, it is ridiculously simple to maintain a facade of normality...and it certainly is a requirement. But to dissociate from something which takes epic proportions in your mind, is scarily unhealthy. You feel, yet you don't. You stir, but it induces sleep. When there's wakefulness, your mind draws a blank. When there is uncomfortable silence with yourself, it creeps up on you. Dismiss it, it grows back. Disregard it, it pursues you. Sometimes it hurts like a thousand pin-pricks or a great big fire or worse yet, saltwater filling your lungs. But you laugh it off and say its some kind of bad dream.

A magical evening

I am not much of a romantic. But I have to say, I have my moments. Recently, I was in Vienna at the State Opera House. During the guided tour, my mind conjured up images of all the possible backstage romances that may have taken place over the years. Maybe it was because Vienna had an air of romance about it...or maybe it was the awe-inspiring interiors of the famous opera house. What can I say?The place had an aura about it. Little did I know that I would be watching a performance in the very same building that very night!

Cheapest tickets in Europe....4 Euro..standing tickets, but nonetheless completely amazing. It was a dream come true. I did not care that my feet ached continuously for 3 hours or that it was hot and stuffy. It did not matter that everyone had made a dash for the galleries with their scarves, a strange phenomenon that we knew nothing about. Yes, we were reduced to standing on the middle staircase and craning our necks, while cursing tall Europeans. But "Romeo and Julia" was absolutely incredible. Ballet is one of the most graceful, expressive dance forms. The sets were mind-blowing. The acting, or should I say the dancing, was magnificent. When Juliet died, it was a heart-wrenching moment for the audience. It could not have been performed better. I have to admit, I had goosebumps several times during the third act.

I left 'Statsoper' with a warm, heady feeling (which for a change, had nothing to do with alcohol!), with images of the night's performance imprinted in my mind forever. I do still maintain that I am not a true-blue romantic, just an occasional one! I suppose it had everything to do with watching a truly magical rendition of the play...certainly a night to remember!

Fool's Day

I have made it quite a habit to write my posts on the first of each month. Ironically, it is Fool's Day today. It makes me want to reflect about myself, especially how so many of you perceive me as a naive idiot. Well, maybe I am! I amaze myself at this ability to go through life like a bumbling fool. No wonder I trip on the street each day and almost get hit by cabs, no wonder I make mistakes without wanting to. It is no surprise that I have the capacity to give up everything or bestow all that I have on one idea. It isn't beyond belief that I cherish a happy memory or a wish or dare to hope against all hope that it may come true. As much as I would hate to admit it, I believe in the idea of 'someday'. If that qualifies me as a proud member in the idiot category, then so be it.

For someone whose last 2 years have been so full of pain, I suppose I draw comfort in being a dreamer. My absent-mindedness which often annoys those around me helps to give me comfort. In naivete, I seek strange solace. Hopelessly believing in certain things can be almost perfectly juxtaposed with remaining staunchly practical and realistic about other things. Yes, I come across as a confused, rather mixed up, highly contradictory person. Unfortunately, it works for me. If I then fall squarely into the fool's domain, let me learn to live with it.

the idea of me

no i will not make excuses for my behaviour towards you.i do not care if its justified or not. because i dont have to justify myself to you or anyone else. i shall not be held accountable for all that goes wrong in your life.it is essential for me to exist as a separate entity, in an unquestioning, accepting atmosphere. it is important for those elusive shreds of peace i crave.you bring out the worst in me. i amaze myself at my capacity to hurt you.i need to be distinct from you or else i fear i will lose the essence of me.yes, you care, maybe you idolize me, worship the idea of me...but that is not who i am. i am not that person you want me to be. i wish you could grab those few remaining bits of self-respect and walk away.you do not want to be affected by my destructiveness.i guess you have already borne the brunt.but i have too.there is a reason for this behaviour, but not one that i shall ever offer to you as an explanation.try to back-track and come to your own conclusions.do attempt to conceive of a life without me.it would be fundamental to your well being and mine.i am sorry, not apologetic, but sorry nonethless...dont know if that makes sense to you, but it makes perfect sense to me. i am meant to fight my own battles.i dont need you or anyone else.if only you could understand and accept...and not be captured by the unreal idea of me.

February

I wonder if I have made it a habit to write on the last day of each month. If so, I would certainly like to grow out of it and write more frequently. Well, February has been an eventful month. From hours of useless gossip, hanging out, visiting street markets, getting random threats, making impulsive decisions to travel, embarking on a company project, being offered a European Masters programme to getting bad grades on assessed essays...it has been quite a packed month! I really wanted to make each day count and I believe I have, in a strange, convoluted manner. Yes, I will miss these days at Carr-Saunders...they have been quite something! I am not sure what I might have to look forward to once I move on from here. The self-confidence plummets very often and I force myself to stay positive. I reinforce that which is good, yet sometimes the picture is so very grey. I try not to imagine what my life would be like a year from now.

In that respect, February with its amazing pace has not allowed me even a moment to stop and introspect. I need more months like these, they help me function better..there is an ease and a comfort level that is unparalleled.

Fears

I am beginning to get increasingly frightened about the future. The prospect of this year ending is just so scary. I have no idea what lies ahead. What is even worse is the fact that I have always been excited about the unknown. But for a change, I am scared sick. More so, I enjoy these lazy days and weeks here. My time in London has been a breath of fresh air...a wonderful departure from the anxious, tense and tough days in Bombay. Be it the people I've met and grown fond of or just the spirit of the city itself or living life on my own terms...I suppose I am going to miss it. Okay, I don't 'suppose'..I am definitely going to miss it. The idea that it is soon going to be all over is something I have to come to terms with. For that acceptance to come about, I will need to push myself considerably. I did not think it would be this hard for me, especially because I always knew this was practically a 10 month course.

I am starting to think my recent bouts of tears have something to do with this unsettling feeling. I cannot get it out of my head that there are just 4 months to go. I always knew this would end but what about it is so hard for me to accept? I have always been able to detach from things, people etc and snap right back to another life, another place, another world. The idea of heading back to Bombay..that awful atmosphere...those everyday battles...the harsh realities...well, it is horribly unnerving. But I do know I have to orient myself towards it, work within my own crazy mind to develop a new frame of reference. I am not sure what lies ahead. But I will hope that it is positive...or at least, not completely negative! For one thing I've learned here is to keep an open mind, not think excessively or ruminate pointlessly and most importantly, just 'be'.

Strange solace

I think I function in a rather strange way. Odd things make me happy. I find comfort in peculiarities. Anyone observing me would think I am indeed weird. But as long as it keeps me content, I honestly do not care. My dysfunctionality often tends to be infectious. People happily label me as a 'nutcase' and laugh at/with me. It is both my weakness and a source of strength. I think it complements my contradictions very well.

Looking back at the past one month, there have been a few decisions that could, in principle, be regarded as fundamentally flawed. Yet in that 'wrong', I find elements of 'right'. Maybe those decisions were mindless, completely unbeneficial to me or even had (or will have) potentially negative consequences. They quite possibly arose out of nothing at all. But as long as I can live without regret and continue to seek solace in my shortcomings, it is okay.

Strange, random and often inexplicable deeds/behaviour continue to dominate my life. As I go about making simple, yet potentially complex choices each day, I wonder if I should stop and retrace my steps. Only to realize that I gladly thrive on such mindlessness. So I suppose its only fair that I stay on track. It makes me happy and keeps me sane. Well...at least, others too can have a good laugh and congratulate themselves on their superiority.

a beautiful distortion

Ever since the year 2009 crept up upon us, three friends have been joined with their partners in holy matrimony and all that! Lorena, one of my closest school friends, Carol, 'dearest of all dears' and Pria, an entertainer throughout college. Funnily, all three have been quite promiscuous throughout the time I've known them. Its strange for me to actually conceive of the fact that they took the final plunge! I mean, what could have led them to take that decision and stick by it. Was it hard for them to walk down the aisle and speak those vows out loud. Did they really mean it when they proclaimed that they would love their partners forever? Is there such a thing as forever....

I've often wondered what pushes one to take such a daunting step. How can one know with complete certainty that they are ready to spend the rest of their lives with a man and with him only. The element of risk is so startlingly clear that I cannot imagine how 91% of the world can be so risk-taking in nature. It is such a frightening thought that someone's existence can be tied to yours. The extent of dependance it can potentially foster can squeeze one out of every ounce of self-reliance. You become infinitely tied to this other person, at the risk of almost losing your own identity. (Well, you do literally lose part of your identity, unless you choose not to). It also seems to me to be such an uphill task to maintain the 'love', the spark or whatever else that is needed to keep marriages alive. Related to this
is the fear that you would inexplicably stop loving that person, or vice-versa. If there are so many little things to worry about, so many concerns that are real, is it really worth all the effort? Marriage is supposed to be a remarkably splendid journey, I cannot help but wonder if its a journey I'm ever willing to embark on.

My apologies to anyone reading this. I did not mean to speak in such a manner about an age-old institution. All I'm saying is that I am probably not cut out for it, because of my own dysfunctional nature and the dysfunctionality (if there is such a word!), that I spread around me. Sorry, my description of the fears associated with marriage are simply a beautiful distortion.

feelings~expectations~

I imagine one cannot control one's feelings for someone. This is why they are so impromptu and follow so natural a course of things. Sometimes they come out of nowhere and hit you in the strangest ways possible. When they do, you end up feeling silly and helpless, sometimes even pathetic. But pathetically giggly and smiling. I assume they creep up on you so insidiously that you don't even know when it happened. You try and pinpoint that one precise moment where you started caring for that person and you amazingly cannot seem to do so. But you smile, in the pleasant knowledge that you are happy and so are they, for the most part. However ephemeral, but happy nonetheless.

With feelings come expectations. Now these are the ones to watch out for. They crawl into your head and forcibly put in thoughts you would rather avoid. They lead you to want some things that cannot be. There are longings and imaginings that you'd rather confine to the recesses of your mind. You try to rationalize with yourself, you rebuke yourself even, or try to regain focus. But the expectations have already made their way into your brain. Needless to say, you are now the perfect candidate for a steady string of disappointments. These are such inconsequential let-downs that people would laugh if they ever heard. But they take on such meaning and significance for you, that you cannot help but let them have their expected impact. But of course, you are bound to have high hopes that are invariably thrashed...but that is completely justifiable, one would suppose.

Feelings...expectations...disappointments...moments of gladness..they all form part of this cycle, that you would have done best to avoid in the first place. But once they are set in motion..well, lets just say the big wheels keep on turning!

Stranger than fiction

It is amazing how things change so dramatically over the course of a single day. There I was feeling completely shattered, feeling sorry for myself, when I decided to step into the kitchen for a glass of wine. Me and a girl who had no idea it was my birthday cracked open a bottle of white and we drank like there was no tomorrow. As the booze insiduously hit my brain, we started chatting with two Italian men, who came up to us, under the pretext of a cool number game. We spoke with them for about an hour, after which it was decided we would go to dinner.

Amaretto...a decent, though rather expensive Italian restaurant, where we ate a big meal. All the while, one of these guys stared at me, to the point of extreme discomfort. I averted my gaze each time, and tried speaking of neutral topics, but he couldn't let go of the fact that my eyes were something that "very few" had. It was strange spending my birthday with these complete strangers. Nonetheless, there was cheesecake, with a candle that I blew out...and everyone in the restaurant sang "Happy Birthday"!

We had a stupid bet with them and to find out the conclusion to that we decided to Google the answer. We sat in my room, listening to sappy Italian music. Then the concerned guy kept inching closer and closer to me and saying cornier and cornier things. Mr. Persistent then commented on the soft bed and excellent heating in my room, all the while reiterating that he wasnt dangerous. I politely asked him to leave, as it was 2am by this time....but of course he insisted on staying the night. "No" is apparently not a word that exists in the Italian vocabulary! After an hour of coaxing, cheap tricks, begging and a little bitchiness (okay, lots of it), this partially good-looking, part-gigolo, hottie wannabe, was forced out of my room by his friend and mine.

There were strange knocks on my door every half an hour while I lay on my bed speaking to Sarvesh. I was afraid to even go out and pee for fear of running into him! I didnt know whether to be flattered or call the police! So much for turning 24; the naivete has to go....assertiveness has to take its place. One thing though, I now have accomodation in Rome, for when I visit in March..and Naples too;)

turning 24

as much as i pretend to be a stony-hearted, aloof bitch with the capacity to bear anything, i am not. in reality, i am horribly desperate for people, company and familiar faces. today has been the worst birthday of my life. i haven't seen a soul i know or care about. i have been sitting here feeling extremely sorry for myself. i haven't been able to stop crying for the past one hour. what is strange is almost everyone remembered...i've had calls from dubai, australia, messages from pakistan, and of course india. i also got surprises in the form of phone calls i would have least expected. my facebook wall was completely crammed with messages from everyone. my roommate came back yesterday just for fifteen minutes to give me a gift.

why then do i feel so hopelessly alone?why then can't these tears stop?....i know i need to stop feeling sorry for myself, i know this is extremely pathetic behaviour and way, way below my dignity. i hate putting on this appearance that all is well. i hate the fake cover-up. regent park lifted my spirits for a good one hour but then i was swirled right back into this desperate labyrinth of my dark mind. i keep asking myself to stop...self-pity is detestable and god knows i hate it.all i need is some calm and peace of mind.but i just cannot will away this awfully self-consuming mess of utter despair.there is another pressing reason why i'm devastated, one that i do not choose to admit even to myself.

i know i need to feel alive, vibrant, 24 and free...but there is a mass inside of me that makes it tough to even swallow. i have to move past this. the darkest hour is past. six hours to go and it'll again be a normal, inconsequential day. what does it matter?let it to its best to overpower me, but when i wake up tomorrow, it'll be all gone. it will have lost its power over me.even while i try desperately to control my feelings, i know that expectations are what lay at the source. i know i needed to battle them, but i didnt. now here i am in their vice-like grip, crying hot tears in a dark, dingy room.

Happy New Year!

Once again another new year...another day of reflecting about my lack of purpose, thoroughly disenchanting existence and of bleaker days to come. (Okay, Maya would kill me!)...So to revert to 'positive thinking', let's see. I am studying at one of the top institutions in the world, will surely get a job somewhere, despite the sorry state of the economy, most (i repeat, most) people don't find me half-bad (okay, they like me!) and I have stricken at least some fun "things to do before i die" off my list. That can't be too terrible. 2008 was in fact a million times better than 2007, by that logic, 2009 has got to have better things in store...I am not sure what there is to look forward to but it will be interesting to find out.

It is also a good idea to reflect on the kind of person I have become. Sometimes my lack of caring shocks me. It is antithetical to my idea of myself as a 'good' human being. But 'good' can have a dozen other connotations, can it not?It doesn't have to take on restrictive, conventional meanings. Are there things I am ashamed of?Not really. I have no regrets, but for November 29th, 2006. That I can live with. I have moved past it in the most beautiful way possible. So resilience is obviously something I have.

This New Year, I have a few resolutions I am hoping to keep. They are simple, yet meaningful to me. They appear easy, but are ironically some of the hardest things for me to do. I also plan to push myself to smile more often, think ahead rather than backward and challenge myself to be 'good' in my own eyes. As long as I don't disappoint myself, it is okay...the world had better deal with who I am.