Why not?

Alright. So it's been a while since I wrote something here. When I started this blog so many years ago, I really thought it would become a thing and I'd have a lot more posts, all depicting my passion for writing and my despair-filled life and what not.

But let's face it - I love starting things, I don't like finishing them. I don't know exactly what the problem is but I think it's mostly to do with the fact that I get bored easily...or distracted. Actually, lazy might be the most appropriate word. Even passion can't overcome my laziness. To give myself credit, I have improved quite a lot over the years and I have TRIED but the pattern still exists, it's relentless and it really depresses me. I think another part of the problem is how much I am obsessed with the idea of getting things right; I wouldn't call myself a perfectionist per se but I WOULD have to deduce I have some stress & avoidance induced obsessive compulsive disorder. For example, I have something top priority to do but I also have something almost as equally important to do the same day; my course of action would involve, doing the second thing and doing it really well and not just that - I wouldn't start the task unless I had everything I needed for it. It's no wonder I pack last minute and get screamed at; I CAN'T pack properly unless I've used my facewash one more time just before leaving the house. Everything must be in it's place first because it's the only way I can work - time and consideration be damned.

On second thought, it might just be that I have a touch of ADHD & OCD. Or maybe I'm hypochondriac (I totes googled that in case I was wrong by the way, I doubt everything about my existence - even my brain).
This brings me to another flaw I have which I can't exactly put into words because it's a combination of so many things. I doubt myself a lot even if I know something, I can't come up with something original or creative like I used to all the time but instead find it much more appealing to copy or add on to ideas already existing and at the same time, I want to learn new things and be able to share them. Oh and despite all of this, I am an insufferable know-it-all who HATES being wrong.

Therein exists the vicious cycle. A figment of the torment that goes through my mind every day. I don't even think I have an excuse for all this confusion anymore - I'm 22 years old, I have to grow up already.
Even as I'm writing this post, I know there's a very strong possibility I will forget about this blog and not write again for a good few months. I'll doodle in my little sketch book maybe, which by the way, I also bought with the intention of writing down or drawing my thoughts every day - so that I'd have a collection of profound quotes and my own almost insightful thoughts (again, I just used an online thesaurus).

As I look back up at the stuff I've been writing, I have noticed that there are certain words that are capitalized - tried, would, can't, ADHD & OCD, hates... Yikes. What does that tell you?

Apparently they say, the only person who can hold you back is you yourself - it might be a bunch of deep moronic bullshit but sadly, it makes a lot of sense. We just don't like to listen to all that profound advice because it's all easier said than done - even the people who said it know it. I mean, look at their lives.

I think I've run out of things to say, I don't know what brought on this encouragement to write a blog post but I'm glad I got something down. None of it is Pulitzer worthy but it's something. It helps. 

The Screaming Man

I felt trapped. I couldn't explain it exactly. Everything was on track.  

 Why did I keep picturing the screaming man? The one who was inside my head with his hands on his ears, howling all his insanity into his voice. The voice that I couldn't hear because really, all I could hear was the silence... And silence is so freaking loud isn't it? 

It made sense because he wasn't the only one I saw. I saw me too.

 I saw myself immersed in a crowd of figures, lights, sounds, smells - calm expression, palms pressed onto my ears, eyes closed like I was trying to break through all those barriers I myself had put up. 

I know it's loud, I can feel it but I can't hear it and I don't want to see it. If only I could open my eyes and ears and just breathe it all in again. 

It's not so bad though. Everything is going to be okay. 

Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow and maybe not even the day after.

But it's going to happen. He'll stop screaming and the silence will be welcome again... Won't it? 

Inspiration

You never know where or when your next inspiration will hit you.

It could be while you're getting into bed (which annoyingly seems to be the case a lot of times) or when you meet somebody with an incredible story. It could be something that you saw, like the simple humane act of somebody buying a hot dinner for a homeless man on the street. 

My inspiration, which I hope will stick, came out of nowhere. 

I had just gotten done with my exam and I was walking back to the train station with my friend. She decided to duck into her favourite coffee shop and proceeded to stand in line while I browsed their fresh food rack for something that would 'tickle my fancy.'

I didn't even realise it but I was tapping my foot to the music playing overhead without even really listening to it; and the guy next to me was bobbing his head and mouthing the lyrics. The song was giving me the good kind of shivers and I immediately whipped out my phone and turned on Shazaam so that I could know the name of the song and spend my train ride home, listening to it on repeat. 

This was one of those times where all these technology advancements didn't bother me at all since it was helping serve a purpose rather than taking me away from living my life like so much of technology does today. 

Anyway, I got the song. I downloaded it. I promptly forgot about it till I got home and randomly started humming the melody, mentally kicking myself for having wasted a train ride where I could have listened to some good music. I mean, music always sounds better when you're on the move rather than sitting down you know?

The song is called "Losing Sleep" and it's by Edwyn Collins; the man behind Orange Juice and one of those classic songs that went viral called "Girl Like You".

I couldn't stop listening to the song, the music was catchy and soulful and his voice was simple and endearing. I ended up downloading the official video since the audio download wasn't working on my phone.  I noticed something strange while watching the video, the way he was singing was so precise, like he had to make the effort to enunciate. 

Now, I love Music. I think there's nothing like it in the world and when a song hits me, it hits me BAD. I become obsessed with knowing everything related to that song, right down to the meaning behind the lyrics just because I can. 

So, I saw a random comment by a youtuber on his video that said something along the lines of, "And to think this man has battled such a harsh illness and come back..."

I googled Edwyn Collins. I heard a couple of his old songs and realised my grandfather had made me listen to them when I was a kid; I had loved his music.

Then I found out his story. How he collapsed after having two strokes. How he lost his memory, the ability to speak, move and be himself again. How he could speak four phrases, one of them being "The possibilities are endless". How he basically had to learn to talk again, walk again like a toddler. And how, the one part of him that didn't go away, was the music.

How sad and amazing is that? 

Really, when you think about it, how much of our lives do we waste complaining about what we can't do? Complaining despite the fact that we have the health and the capacity to do it. You are what stands in your way; I've honestly come to believe that in the past year. 

Edwyn Collins got back on his feet, he recorded another album and another one and he's coming out with a third one. It wasn't about the fame, it was about his genuine love for the music. He's still paralyzed from one side of his body, he still has trouble speaking and it doesn't matter.

If that's not inspiring, then what is? 

Come back.

Someone once said, that death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss in life, is what dies inside us while we live. I could tell you who said it, but who the hell really cares?

It all just feels so fake, you know? This idea that good things happen to good people. That there’s magic even in this world, and that the meek and the righteous will inherit it. Too many good people suffer for that to be true. Too many prayers go unanswered. And every day it just gets worse. 

Every day we ignore how truly broken this world is, and we tell ourselves it’s all going to be okay. But maybe it’s not going to be okay; How do we know?

And once you know that, there’s no going back. 

Boom.

I feel so very depressed these days. I know, it's such a cliche that word. People needlessly throw it around so much it's lost it's meaning.
The truth is, I'm upset. I wish I could pinpoint the reason, but as usual it's like my brain is trolling me (Thankyou 9gag for my new profound knowledge on everything Meme.); I know it's something specific that's got to be bothering me but lately I get upset about everything, especially the state of my poor country. Every beggar or vendor I see? I literally MUST stop & give them money. If I don't, I genuinely feel so down thinking of their plight that it usually takes atleast 30 to 40 minutes for me to get them out of my head. Can you imagine? In a city like Karachi, where there's beggars at every signal. Yeah, you do the math.
This train of thought usually leads to another, where I then start thinking about how I don't appreciate my parents enough or how I don't practice my religion enough or thank God for everything.
It doesn't end there - next comes the frustration at not being able to do something to help the people. I wish it was only about the people but then I start getting upset about the animals I see around the city. Today, I actually teared up when my mum stopped at the meat shop & I saw all those chickens in the cages. Add this emotional instance to the twenty billion times I've seen a stray cat or dog on the road & begged my boyfriend to let me take them home & you can see, I've got myself quite a conundrum.
I love my mother to bits, I think it's safe to say I love & appreciate both my parents a lot more since I've been sent abroad to study. But oh mama, you gotta stop making me feel so shitty about myself! I know you're trying to help, but all your constant nagging is doing is making me feel overweight, de motivated & not at all pretty.
Finally, friends. Yeah, hi. I exist, I miss you guys, I want to hang out & actually do something other than sit around watch you smoke or drink & talk about people who don't matter; we used to hang out before too remember, we've been friends for so long & this is what I get for it? Honestly, I feel like it's the end of high school again, I don't know who I can trust anymore. I thought I had that bit figured out.
Sigh, currently I'm fighting with somebody I care a lot about & the truth is, he's right. But that also doesn't mean I'm wrong. We are at what they call, a passe.

Blog, you have just been subject to the ramblings of an overloaded girl brain. Don't worry, I'm done for now.
Thank you & Goodnight.

Day 875546789

Atleast that's what it feels like.
Never felt so alive and so helpless at the same time; is this what they mean when they say "prime of your life"?
Clear blue skies, each cloud decipherable and then there's the land. Bumps and little hills brimming with grass alongside the asphalt, dotted with tiny flowers. Picture perfect? Yes. Heaven on earth? Maybe.
We'll see what the end of next week brings.

Along for the Ride.

Wow I haven't been on here in the longest time. I don't know why I suddenly decided to write here because I haven't been able to write properly in months. Oh, I'll doodle and scribble on my notebook of the month but sadly, I haven't written a real thing for almost a year now.

The funny thing is, it's not like somebody's reading this, maybe someone will come across it but other than that, no one's really listening y'know? And I think that's the beauty of it. To write just because you want to, to do it for yourself and not for anyone or anything.

The fundamentals of writing have changed so much, nowadays all people can talk about is the end of the world or mythical creatures. It's like JEEZUS, what happened to actually writing a good old fashioned heartfelt story? A story that gives you goose bumps when you read the last paragraph and makes you cry and feel along the way. Who cares if it's fictional? At least it's about things that are real. I think I'm ranting about this because I found a new Sarah Dessen book; She is amazing, I wish I could write like her. Reading her books always makes me feel better and mainly because it's set in a world that is no where close to perfect. The clincher for me, is that it all works out in the end no matter what.

I like that ideology. I personally deem myself to be a fairly positive person, all that jazz about "Life is what you make of it" or "Everything happens for a reason" or my current favourite "Everything will be alright in the end; if it isn't, it's not the end yet."? Yeah, I'm like a walking poster girl for these. I got waaay more of these where they came from. I try to be the glass half full instead of the glass half empty but I think I'm stuck somewhere in the middle - more like, glass sort of full and glass sort of empty. Because seriously, it's ain't always butterflies and rainbows. Pick up a newspaper and you've got the biggest example right there; Planet Earth!

But it ain't right not to hope either. Hope's all we've got really, it's what got us all here in the first place.