Wednesday, June 21, 2006

BECAUSE

…..I don’t want to write, but I have to.

…..my stomach hurts like someone is trying to gouge it out bit by bit with a hot iron rod.

…..work is boring, and I feel like someone in a story, some drudge, like the miller’s daughter, left to spin gold out of straw.

…..I’d like to live like a character out of an old Victorian novel, with wasp waisted dresses, ribands and curls, with china heeled slippers, and Almack’s and waltzes and balls and masquerades.

…..I can’t abide with people who don’t know me for me, but assume that they have a proprietoral role in my life.

…..my best friend is going far far away, and I don’t know if she’ll ever return.

…..all the most memorable parts of my life seem like they’re make believe.

…..I don’t want to have to deal with people who use projection as a defense mechanism, and blame ME for all the issues THEY have with my existence.

…..all the best things in life don’t come in small packages, and they are certainly not free. You pay for them one way or another.

…..I get mad with people out to besmirch my reputation, when I know that the only person to blame is me.

…..nobody believes in one man for one woman relationships any more.

.....people are supposed to be free, and not imprisoned in tiny cubicles like rats in a laboratory experiment.

…..boys will be boys and every deviance from the beaten path can be conveniently attributed to that.

.....I dislike people who coin silly words and phrases to prove they're "yo".

And finally, because, like someone just pointed out, mothers in law were daughters in law at some point of time too. :-) [For details, refer Ekta Kapoor]

[To be continued.....]