Archive for December, 2011

December 25, 2011

We Can Dance Until We Die

by thebirdieflies


I like this photo. It’s of me and A.

The title is from the song Teenage Dream, by Katy Perry. I like Katy Perry too (‘too’ as in, apart from this photo). She is so pretty and sparkly and I love the stuff she wears.

I like my ankles.

There’s no point to this post. I am happy and I feel colourful. I will bake cakes.

P.S. I have 11 days (including the rest of today) left of my teen age. Do the math and don’t forget to wish me on my birthday.

December 13, 2011

Loony Lunar Ramblings

by thebirdieflies

Dear Future Me

Once upon a time, you joined this astronomy group in your city and stayed up the whole night watching a lunar eclipse. You saw how the moon was covered slowly and slowly by a brownish shadow, and how, when it was almost entirely covered, the moon was still visible, but it appeared red.

You then went for a walk at 5 am that morning with A, in search of some food.

Had you known at that time that you would fall in love with him? You knew that a walk of more than 2 kms lay ahead of you, that you had a growling stomach, that the roads were dark, lonely and not altogether very safe. You walked and you walked and you never realised any of that, because you were with him. Were you conscious of how safe and loved he always made you feel, even though you were nothing more than friends at that time?

Now, when I see the moon at night, when I see it in its full glory, all white, opalescent and big, I am reminded of how tiny we are. The moon is held up in space with nothing but a force field of gravity. We are held up with nothing more than the same. The moon is so huge, that it’s beyond comprehension. Entire human cities would fit in one of those little spots of gray.

Space is so beautiful. There’s no air, there’s no noise, there’s nobody. Light is nothing but immense heat and night is nothing but freezing to death quicker than you can say space. Human problems like poverty, corruption, love, betrayal, terrorism, none of it means anything there. If nature means surviving, then space means existing, for time periods So long, that we cannot measure them in our lifespans.

Space is beautiful.

You are too. Remember that. Your lifespan is but a little blip in time. Don’t waste any of it being depressed.


Past Me

December 11, 2011


by thebirdieflies

Dear Future Me

When you were about 12-13 years old, the song, Numb, by Linkin Park was a huge favourite of yours. You didn’t have iPods at that time and were still un-introduced to the idea of downloading songs off the net. You would listen to this song over and over again over the telephone because your best friend had this song on her computer somehow. You wrote down its lyrics once, trying to decipher the words over the phone, and sang along to the song in your head.
Linkin Park, oh how much you loved that band.
Now you think it’s not worth all that fawning over.

Now, you actually Do feel numb. Emotionally numb. And this is something you’re doing to yourself. If an idea disgusts you, repulses you, shocks you, you think of it over and over again until you are numb to it. Such as the idea of self-cannibalism in Stephen King’s short story ‘Survivor Type’.

But no, that is not really of concern at the moment.
What is of concern is that you, all of a sudden, are incapable of feeling love. What is love? Have you asked yourself that question far too many times to actually ever feel it anymore? Or was love something only reserved for R? You think you love A, but you are not sure. And once you start on that track, you are no longer sure of anything. Why do you like him? Why can you not feel the dread that he feels, the euphoria that he feels, the love that he feels being with you? Why were you so cold and numb to the idea of breaking up with him? Didn’t it matter?
Why are you pushing yourself away from him? When anything he says hurts you, you clam up just a little bit more. You look for someone else to fulfil your emotional needs. You don’t need him, you tell yourself. You become just a little more numb.

You will have a conversation with him tonight. I hope it gets sorted out.

Past Me

December 11, 2011

Something I have, Something I want

by thebirdieflies

I want a pouffy wouffy little kitty.

I have this Awesome pair of earrings. :’)

Winter has finally come to my city. It’s still not as cold as I would expect it to be, but okay, we’re getting there.

December 2, 2011


by thebirdieflies

I did mention how I’d write about the importance of GPA’s, remember?

In short, the two reasons GPA’s matter to me are –
First, it is just another achievement.
Second, it allows me to be good.

If you get a good GPA, you get all the praise, all the proud smiles and pats on the back that are associated with any important achievement of any kind. Now, this leads me to wonder, if people didn’t consider one of my achievements important, would I still be as proud of it? Or does part of the high get diluted?
I don’t know, honestly. I suppose part of the high does get diluted. But an achievement in Any sense will always have appreciators, and maybe in such a case, I would rather focus on those who understand the worth of my achievement, than those who do not.
Getting abad GPA is not the end of the world, but if it turns out to be good, I get to feel proud of myself.
It may not be indicative of my knowledge, or of my capabilities to others, but since I would most likely not have resorted to plagiarism to get good grades, I know it will be, to me.

Then, if I am doing well grades-wise, I don’t have to resort to plagiarism to get by. It is only when I am desperate to stay afloat, not fail a course, not let my grades drop below some minimum requirement, will I have to resort to that. If I’m doing well in a course and it’s a question of a few marks, I can choose to lose those marks (if I don’t know the answer myself), than cheat. This is because cheating doesn’t pay the price of those few marks. But to stay alive, one must do whatever one has to, and desperation more often than not, drives a person to do something they would otherwise not have.
I recently read Survivor Type by Stephen King, and the above statement rings true Loud and clear in that story. Don’t read it if you are easily freaked out.

That said, I got my first C a few days back. The shock of the first C grade was dissolved by the knowledge that I wasn’t doing too well in this course, that quite a few others who I consider very intelligent got C too, and that I had actually improved and learnt something in the duration between the mid semester exams and the end semester exams.
But yes, no more C’s; I need to keep my GPA above 8 points.
Sigh. Till last semester, I was trying to stay above 9 points.