Ironic!

The hardest word to explain in the English language is probably 'irony'. It took me a good two-three years to completely grasp what it meant, before I could look at a situation and mutter in my head - 'now that's irony'. It's even harder to explain it to someone else. It's like .. you either understand it or you don't. I remember our teachers would always try to explain but we'd never get it. Then one day it just comes to you. So now when I see a really fat guy getting off the bus wearing a 'eat-lots-of-Krispy-Kreme-donuts' (because he works there), my mind yells - 'how ironic'. (Please don't anyone tell me that .. what I've just said is not an irony at all .. it is something else .. it'll shatter my .. hope of finally realising what an irony is).

Family Guy has an amazing way of saying things that I myself would like to say sometimes. Over the years this 21 year old brain has pretty much become a politically correct little head and I don't remember a time I've not hesitated (or ended up saying) before saying something like - ' Oh, that is so lame. Every hot girl who can aim a camera thinks she's a photographer. Ooooh, you took a black and white picture of a lawn chair and it's shadow and developed in savon. You must be so brooding and deep!' You have just got to love Stewie. Feel free to put that line into any other context you can think of.

I am (like many women/girl/female/perhaps both gender) attracted to 'taken' men these days (actually .. always) and it's terrible because the attraction/crush/however I term it, increases ten folds upon learning that he has a girlfriend- either serious or just dating. My recent crush shares the same last name as I (or is it me? I hate trying to be grammatically correct, only to fail miserably) and he's not cute .. but funny .. not as witty as I am (I can charm the pants off people if I want with my wit .. which I find hard to believe myself sometimes) and today after learning that he hasn't shaved for days and days because "she doesn't like how it feels the day after I shave, which means I have to shave every single day and since I'm very lazy, I've decided to not shave and bring a beard-ly state that'd feel smooth to touch", I think I have developed a serious crush that was absent even thirty minutes prior to this revelation that he is newly dating.

Do all women then complain about their partner's facial hair and how it should be groomed? To think that men actually listen .. is .. quite .. a surprise (since I hold on to the belief that all men are egotistical jerks who would beat their women if they could had it not been for all these laws that are present in the Western social system. In the Eastern society, I imagine women are beaten up by their partners all the time with belts and forced intercourse- which hurts believe it or not!).

Flirtation is confidence and to those who would like to improve on flirtation- I suggest getting in a relationship. Trust me, it does wonders.

And there endth my utterly useless entry about nothing in particular.

Beauty in Breakdown!

There is always THE ONE ..
THE ONE ring to rule them all .. THE ONE to make a person whole .. THE ONE song a person would take to their grave ..
I'm searching for THE ONE song.

The last time I've written a poem was on August 7th 2004, originally intended for a birthday gift later served as a .. well .. sort of a symbolic ritual where I could .. enter afterlife .. symbolically speaking.

I have a tendency to dig up yesteryears when I'm depressed. The higher the degree of depression, the deeper I dig. I dig and I dig and I dig. I dig until I'm five years old and all I wanted was to assemble one tall building to another tall building until there would be millions and millions tall buildings on top of each other, making it easier to touch the sky that can't be touched. Of course, the sky doesn't really exist- it's a blanket of gas the light bounces off.

.. And the last poem I had written was in fact in early 2005- a poor attempt at a Bangla version (loosely) of 'Love song of Alfred Prufrock' - possibly one of the best poems I've read. Sometimes I wonder if T.S. Eliot was THE ONE for me.

I'm not very cultured or very well read. It shows when I talk about things I love. I don't love a lot of things because I don't know a great deal there is to know. I don't know what to love. I might actually be too self absorbed to love anything as much as I love myself. Is it a wonder then that I love writing in first person?

My sibling is going through what I go through everyday. She is crushing on an year 11 boy on her bus and she stalks him home everyday. Everyone on the said bus including the one being crushed on is well aware of my sibling's crush and .. frankly, I never could keep my crushes discreet. Like sister, like sister? (similar to .. like father and son? What's that expression?). She (the sibling) be a late bloomer though- I started stalking boys home at the age of thirteen.

I will finish that story I was writing.

Blues and Greens !

' You drove me, nearly drove me out of my head
While you never shed a tear
Remember, I remember all that you said
Told me love was too plebeian
Told me you were through with me and
Now you say you love me
Well, just to prove you do
Come on and cry me a river, cry me a river
I cried a river over you '

- Julie London ~ Cry me a river

It's just one of those moods ..