09 June, 2014


I will admit that I've been dreaming about rain for the past month. There's the beautiful, dark, booming sound of thunder in my head, flashes of lightning illuminating everything in its brilliant light, the pitter-patter of raindrops as they strike the ground, that earthly smell of the ground as the water seeps through. It's a wonderful occurrence, especially in the scalding Chennai summer.

But so far, it's all been in my head, and my head only. I wake up expecting to inhale the calming scent of wet earth, but instead I am greeted by the harsh sunlight creeping through the cracks between the curtains like a motherfucker.

Until last night. Last night, my dreams - as trivial as they were - actually came true. I went to sleep watching the sky light up in flashes of white, listening to the rumble of enraged clouds as they sent down rain from the heavens. The air was cold and I went to sleep, content.

I guess the intro and outro of "Raining Blood" really got to me.

Lately I've been overly irritated, lashing out at everybody who manages to say something that's opinionated and to my dislike even in the slightest. Is it possible for a 15 year old to be hypertensive? Because I've been too stressed, enough to tell myself that I'm a worthless piece of shit (check out the previous post) and that I need to take a break from writing fiction and learning Danish.

Yesterday was when I realized I hadn't listened to music at all for over a week. I switched on my iPod, but it said "connect to power" and I think things got only worse from then.

I finally went to sleep, reading. The rain calmed me down this morning. I even managed to shout about what's bothering me, cry a little, and settle into an idle but effective routine (though I haven't exercised or bathed yet). I just can't wait for school - that time when everything falls into place, you no longer need to wonder when to wake up or when to eat, because you eat when you're hungry (you actually get hungry because you get tired) and wake up an hour before you need to move your ass out of the house. You sleep when you finish homework, and take a bath in the morning and before you hit the hay. And exercise? Psh, who has time for exercise?

So I'm sitting here listening to Megadeth and my mood has considerably improved. I just hope this isn't a PMS side effect.

06 June, 2014

dear self,

look away from the screen. lift your chin up, princess, your crown's falling. don't get so down on yourself. remember to drink water when you're thirsty. clip your nails once a week, even your toenails. don't let yourself skip the sunscreen. put breakfast before you run to the shower. and don't forget to shower.

stop feeling weak. you are strong, and you are capable of doing whatever the fuck you want. but take care of yourself. eat. read. write. work out. play drums. listen to music. those are 50% of the things that are important this year, 2014. the rest is your family. take care of them. but more than that, care enough to take care of yourself. be happy with what you have. because only if you love yourself will others love you.

up the hygiene. and look ahead. ahead at all the things you're going to do. releasing CDs, publishing books, living the road life. drop your goal of putting up good instagram pictures. that is bullshit. think instead of your biceps, the fringe, the u-haul blankets, your future band members, that feeling you'll get when you're first on stage. you want that, don't you? yes, you do; that was a rhetorical question.

wake up earlier, not at noon. go outside, enjoy the calm as you speed-bike listening to Pantera. come back and eat an egg or two. fucking bathe. read. play drums. eat lunch. read. work out. drum. read. eat. work out. i promise you, you give what you get. so give it your all.

i know you feel awkward about friends. that's okay. take it one step at a time. go talk to a newbie. have an old friend over. skype that person who has seemingly drifted away. it doesn't matter what you look like; you were friends for a reason.

take care of yourself. wash your hair, your bellybutton, the undersides of your feet. play around with some kohl. work out enough that you feel your heart beating in your ears. you are ALIVE. that in itself is a gift.

remember when you're down that pain doesn't tell you when you ought to stop. pain is the little voice in your head that tries to hold you back because it knows that if you go on, you will change. don't let it stop you from being who you CAN be. EXHAUSTION tells you when you ought to stop. you only reach your limit when you can go no further.

do it for the skinny jeans, the biceps, the sleeveless Slayer shirts, the confidence boost, the satisfaction, the "holy shit, you got hot", the photographs, the oppurtunities, the fame, the fun of it all.

if you want something real bad, make a fucking plan, write that shit down, and work on it. every. single. day.

and if you feel like giving up, just remind yourself that you have a lot of motherfuckers to prove wrong.