When is the right time to break the trend of cliches. When would you know that years old trend of stupid cliches are actually very stupid. they are habitually binding and obscuring. We try to rationalize our mistakes by binding them to the cliches. The cliches try to become rational by binding themselves with our obstructions.
So this is a classic cliche tale of girl falling for a guy deeply in love. I was not naive or innocent when all this happened. But somehow I ended up thinking that whatever is happening, the guy, the feelings are going to be with me for whole life. I was so happy to find love of my love so early. Plus I was happy to find a guy who was in love with me, he was my friend before he proposed me. So yeah I was happy. We had this so called perfect chemistry little did I know that what is coming. The shit hit the fan when one fine day I found my best with my boyfriend. They were kissing each other. Yeyi…I love cliches. I was shocked, actually everyone was shocked. But I was the one who was shocked as well as devastated. So I did the most logical thing that came up in my mind at that time, I blurted out the most important question that popped in my mind at the time of crisis, “Why”. And just like that everything came crashing down around me. The building collapsed and my boyfriend died that day…..but then where was the cliche in it. So the saga of cliche continues with the answer my boyfriend gave me. My boyfriend asked me to leave, my best friend was standing there with a triumphant look on her face. I was so traumatized, I did the next logical thing possible, I left.
Leaving was the easy part but remaining that way was tough for me. Then for first time in my life ever I thanked my ego which helped me a lot, it helped me in staying away from the douche who cheated on me and took away two of my good friends away from my life. I mean come on my boyfriend was my good friend too. So I somehow kept my front and managed not to go back . Then came the prancing around, they flaunted each other as if they had the best catch ever with themselves. I would have suffered some more but Karma kicked their butt. They ended their so called affair. My ex cheated again. cliche…I know but true as hell. In this whole spiderweb of cliche, what was not cliche that this time when a plain Jane fell for a Jock, the jock didn’t fall for a short skirt. he fell for a Tomboy. In my cliche I was the plain jane, the boyfriend was obviously Jock and yep my best friend was Tomboy.
I was devastated this whole time, despite feeling momentarily rush of ecstasy but in my defence I had every reason to be sad. But somehow my plight was increased by the fact that my boyfriend didn’t pick a girl who was wearing a skirt shorter than mine. He fell for someone who was a lot like me. My best friend a I went along so nicely because we did have similar tastes. Well look at the extent the similarity, she selected the same guy as I did. My ex didn’t went for a model, he could have but he didn’t and that hurted most. and then he didn’t even continued what he started with my best friend. He just kept on drifting like and an idiotic plastic bag. A plastic bag which should be used only for collecting poop.
cliches are too cliche
I tried so hard to blame that it was a classic case of being a cliche, but the cliche ended at me. My realisation, that it was me not my boyfriend, who was cliche was shocking. It would have done wonders to my ego if somehow I could blame someone else for my plight because that is what cliches does, they make you weak. They make you skip rational thoughts. If could have somehow fitted an analogy with some cliche during my heartbreak I would have never realised my own flaws. The fact that reason of my breakup was not some other other girl or guy but it was my own insecurity of losing my guy to some short skirt.
For a very long time we have seen these cliche short skirts stealing our guys away. We mop after our guys. We blame them, both the girl and the guy. But never in million year we ever think that seriously , like really seriously the breakup was our fault. Because no amount of short skirt can really steal away your true love, which is again a cliche. It is like a cycle, we try to defend one cliche with another. We grasp it like it is life saving trend. While in reality we are just too weak to go for the reality and hence we compromise with cliches. We act like addicts and to justify our addiction we never question validity of cliches.
I discovered the reality during this heartbreak. I realised that we are fools to be addicted to cheap booze while we all can have single malt scotch. We are settling down for substandard shit while we can always have the real deal. Going through a heartbreak teaches you a lot of things. It teaches you life. It teaches you to take easy decisions. Like life is like coffee. You can make Americano out of it or just whip it with cream and ice; whichever suits you better; whichever defines you better. Just because we have seen it around in a certain way, it need not to be like that. We can classify it in simpler form. Simpler form like coffee with cream or scotch on rocks. Life is too sublime to be spent cliche to cliche.
When do you know that the time is right to start witchcraft. Chanting sweet little mantras, collecting enemies ashes, sacrifices so on and so forth. My opinion would be start as early as one could to ensure onstart of a beneficial trend.
I too should have started long ago. I should have started after a boy shoved me off of my skateboard. I ended up with minor bruises on my palm, some nasty cuts on elbows, busted knees and …..yeah and with seven stitches on my scalp. I should have used the scrap of his T which I grasped to break my fall. All the damages due to one simple reason, I learned to flip the board before he could. So he pushed me off screaming, “You shouldn’t have done that you filthy girl”. That night with all my injuries I wished him life full of pain. But empty words and zero channeled energy, what were the odds of getting this wish. It took some time and treats from my brother before I started skating again. But this time the charm was replaced by fear. Fear of what if I annoy someone again. The boy who pushed me was doing great and didn’t waste a single moment to remind me how I got my stitches.
His constant goading set a fire so deep inside me, all i wanted for him is to writhe in pain, a slow fire burning his bones melting his flesh way; making his ashes float in air like lost tales of brutality. I wanted to cast a sigil but unfortunately i had zero knowledge about how to make a sigil at that time of life. So imagine what i did next, i looked around, seeking how to make sigil.
This was the time i poured my whole heart in learning the art. But instead of finding what i was looking for i stumbled upon something else. No matter how badly I wanted to cast a sigil to destroy that boy but all that learning taught me something different altogether. It taught me that revenge is never a happy ending. especially ill planned ones are pain in ass. So I never casted the sigil but i found the magick of words. and the magical world of books, the world where you can actually get all you need.
the magic of finding magic within.
That was time for me to break the trend, the trend of actually finding white and black or grey in your life and move ahead with all you can. because life is too magical to be restricted in black and white and grey. It is too magical to be casted through spells or sigils. the best way to bring out its magick is to charm it. Charm your way inside life for most powerful session, charm your way away to have an adventure of your own. Charm your way to break the trend.
Hoping to continue this trend of breaking trends in upcoming chapters!!
Often I have been tagged as a naive person. “You trust everyone, you are so naive” , “You expect too much, you are so naive” and even get started about hope. What I find odd is how do we managed to develop sorry evolve into something so pathetically hopeless. In reality who exactly is naive. I have been taught ever since I was kid that hope for the best. But as an adult whenever I try to hope for the best I am tagged as a naive person.
As if it was not confusing enough for me people are so unclear about this whole naive situation that I am not sure anymore whether”naive” is a good word or it is just the to discourage people. Specially for people like me with a steak of naiven behaviour deciding the true meaning if the word is pretty tough.
While I want to believe that the is an iota of goodness in the divine word, tone of people say quite the contrary. But why is it bad to be naive, its not my fault that I chose not to be a conniving person. Okay maybe all those who are not naive might not be conniving but somehow being conniving is far more better option for many of us. People would rather be considered as wicked as opposed to fool or naive.
But I refuse to be a person who reads between the line, even when there is nothing to read or a person who can comprehend invisible signs even when the signs are clearly indicating them to screw signs and live your life. Because I don’t want to contemplate every moment of life. I want to give life a chance, it may hurt me some times to feel betrayal or I might feel dejected maybe too dejected to hope again but I would like to take my chances.
What would life be all predicted and sorted, I would rather have it perfected with imperfections. Plus those who are wise and have it all sorted are they happy…no….a big NO. They are busy in predicting too much.
So living a life full naivety is better, at least I think so in that manner you won’t have regrets about how your best planned schemes failed when life delivered a curve ball. I mean shoe me the logic in planning and failing and then regretting.
So I maybe naive and may have suffered a lot or would side like suffer a lot but I enjoy being naive.
“home is where the heart is” but if someone is heartless then where do they live. Forget they, they is very general term, I am heartless but I definitely not a homeless ragamuffin 😉 .
But really on a serious note, if I am unable to accept anything or anyone or anyplace with all of my heart then should I give up all hopes.
In my opinion we should start quoting “home is where the hope is” because I know that I might be a heartless person but boy do I ride the high horse of hopefulness. I hope everytime that this time I won’t need my “being heartless” facade to cover up my “💔 heart” reality. I hope everyday that maybe,… maybe today I will find love which would make my heart ♥ go soaring. But everyday my hope is crushed.
This has come down to the point where I have stopped looking for a home where my heart is. I have stopped not because I am afraid of being hopeful but because I am afraid I don’t have anymore heart left to be kicked out of a home. I have put myself out there way too many times to be managed by human heart and feel belongingness 😬
Now I have comprehended the phenomenon of heart i.e. to pump blood nothing more. I am not looking for a heart-full home anymore. I am now… romantically heartless hence declare me homeless…. romantically ;but I have hopes that could save the whole universe 🌌 so I guess I am not that homeless 🐢. Like once my heart was, I am wearing it on my sleeves. Because unlike heart, my hope is not fragile. My hope do not suffer from the defects of perfection. My hope knows how to survive anf shelter me in it.
For me my hope is my home 🏡.
I swear by most unromantic rock on this planet that I am very glad that I don’t have to face Valentine’s Day for another twelve months. Or should I say valentine’s week…. As if a day is not long enough to torture me but then when the cosmic set up ever favored me. I am that adopted kid of this planet’s cosmic set up that I, most of the time end up in situations where the question of my liking is like a Mosquito…. i.e. unnecessary and squatted to death.
So coming back to the topic valentine’s day- well i don’t hate the day but i am not a fan either. For me its just another day to live. So this year’s Valentine’s Day was also like last year’s and a year before that and as back as one could go. Which was fine unless i decided to eat. If you are not cooking on this special day then my friend you are in for suffering of eternities.
So as i decided to eat, being a great cook whose culinary skills are limited till boiling water, i also decided to order food. And then all hell broke loose. When I called my regular restaurant they said due to valentine’s day they have changed their menu so either order from special menu or order next day. I was chanting “okay, lets try next restaurant”. So as i tried the next restaurant aaannDD they also said something along the lines. They said that due to valentine’s day they are facing heavy rush and might not be able to deliver me food at least for two hours. So I weighed my pros and cons and thought if the third joint says the same then I will order from there, given the fact that at some point i must have to eat.
So here comes the lucky third….LUCKY being the key word. They took my order and said food would be delivered in half an hour. Little did I know that we are scaling time differently. Instead of half an hour I waited for two freaking full hours. But was I angry?…..no dude no i was way…wayy…wayyyy too hungry to invest in any other kind of emotion.
This whole incidence has proved one thing to me, the thing is to celebrate a day of love sometimes a lover like me has to suffer a lot for my eternal love…i.e. food. Somehow I am unable to comprehend why do I need to suffer. The whole population of this world can launch themselves to Mars or Pluto or Planet-I-Bloody-Don’t-Give-Two-Shits to declare their love. But in doing so how could they prioritise their love over my food love.
All I have to say is my valentine’s day was very bad. I suffered a lot to meet my love!!
Hugs….what are those….some alien bug, forcing people to try and squeeze the life out of each other?? I don’t mind two different people hugging each other unless I am not one of the two persons in question or in this case situation embrace. The moment someone tries to be extra….ummm I don’t know what do you call a person who wants to hug the life out of you, anyway yeah so the moment someone tries to squeeze the life out of I feel like “why, oh dear devil why me, what have I done to get crushed by these human arms”.
Till this date apart from suffocating the bloody life out of a person, I could not comprehend the whole purpose of hugging someone; unless we are exchanging body odors 😐 . I never ever feel like seeing a person and then running up to that person and do this emotional version of “die bitch die…suffocate, till you die” ritual. There are people in this world who I find very nice and charming and appealing but never in any of my nightmares I would think about hugging them. My happiness definitely do not depend on the squeezing part.I see someone and I am equally equipped to express my love/affection/caring through a mere wave of hand…yeah I know, call me Houdini for that ;).
I guess I have to wait till the day when I will be wise enough to get all this touching and sharing love thingy, till then call me a mollusc, a snail, who is crawling slowly towards this hugging and soul crushing and personal space evading trend. Mind you I never ever want to catch-up or should I say embrace the hug 😉
What is amazing is through the whole process of evolution how could humanity come to this point? Or maybe I am not evolved enough to understand the process or maybe I am not ready to embrace the hug.
Some one please hand me my eye-patch, I am falling in love… at first sight. If only one eye is functional then would i fall in love partially.
Oh dear Archimedes, why you have proposed buoyancy for partially or wholly immersed fluids and not something one love at first sight with bifocals on. I guess, the relatively simple phenomenon of buoyancy was easier for him to postulate rather then diving head along in the “abyss-like” ocean of love to check whether an individual can survive or not; immersed partially or wholly.
When I mention ☝ this opinion to others, some of them quote Shakespeare to me… Remember Touchstone and Audrey… and like a perfect cynic I reply, “Yeah I also happen to remember Romeo and Juliette”. They (Romeo and Juliette) definitely conveyed this message clear as, Sploid, “When in love kill yourself” .. And if it is love at first sight.. 😜.. well, should I say more. Also don’t forget all happened in four days. Not that number of days has to do anything with stupidity 😉.
What if I am blind… what are the odds of falling in love for me then😧 none I guess…. Not at least “love at first sight”. Worst (maybe not so worst 😉) what if I use bifocals.If I am blind then I guess there is only one person but substitute blindness by bifocals and you will get two persons. One would be the person with bifocals and other sans the bifocals. I know some of you will say bifocals has nothing to do with eternal love and personality is imperative. But all those lovelies should know that I am writing about “love af first sight”, so yes looks matter and so does bifocals to look at that looks. Yeah… so people with bifocals will fall for which one?
Ehh… anyway I don’t want to be Claudius II and behead beloved valentine love from this world but if possible… if given a chance to change something about this love…. I would make it less painful for some of us.