I cannot FRIEND

You read it right! I think I don’t know how to be a friend. I lack the fundamentals of being a “friend”.

I actually never thought about it until last year. I always knew I’m an oddball, a “different” kind of person, and if you want to say, then yes, a “weirdo”. I won’t disagree. But I thought that’s who I was, and if people accept me for this me, then there can be nothing wrong between us if we want to be “friends”.

Plain and simple, right?


It started with the YouTubers. And before you draw a conclusion, JUST DON’T! I’m not “intimidated” by the friendships they manifest, it just made me think of things I never thought before. Like the friendship between the “Holy Trinity”, Hannah Hart, Mamrie Hart and Grace Helbig, friendship of Anthony Padilla and Ian Hecox, there are more, I can write an entire blog about that. But that’s not the point. However, I was moved by observing the friendship between Rhett McLaughlin and Link Neal. Yes, they I think so far the biggest influences in my life right now, the way Gregory Bros were during my college days. And also there was the friendship between Allison Raskin and Gaby Dunn. Aaand then this tweet thread just cracked me up. I DON’T HAVE THIS! MOST OF THESE! (Or maybe any of these)!

And observing their friendship, I first noticed that I DON’T FIGHT with my friends. Sounds weird right? How come that be a concern. Let me be more specific, I realized I don’t fight with:

  1. Lady friends whom I knew since I was a kid (well at least pre-teen)
  2. ¬†Dude friends of my age whom I get to know after college and have a great friendship with (well I’ve got quite emotional dependency on them)
  3. Lady friends whom I knew from college

In some cases, it’s likely that I’ve got to know these people only for a few years, and so far we’ve got many things common between us, hence, we didn’t have any reason to get into a fight/conflict.


I had every reasons to be mad at people and start a fight, and sometimes they did the same. There were conflicts, there were bad blood. But those stuff would always elude me, in span of a few minutes to days. I forgot whatever happened.

UNTIL A FEW WEEKS LATER. And I could not even bring those up and start a fight.

Does any of these sound “weird” to you? It does to me. Especially after seeing two men in late thirties fight like kids and making up ON SCREEN when they’re doing a show, and it’s NOT FOR COMIC RELIEF, it dawned on me. Am I missing something? Like a very basic human skill that people pick up without even trying?

And slowly this tiny snowball started gaining momentum. And now I feel like I’m going to get an ice coffin. Sigh! I think this inability to withstand/identify conflicts has costed me some friendships. I am already living a doomed life, I get scared all the time, the untreated mental struggles aren’t leaving me alone either. I think I am in a worse hell than I was in a few months ago. This realization is doing me no good.

However, I should also note, even though I am losing grip on many friendships I thought would last the way it bloomed, as an oddball, I’ve got a few oddball friends. We’ve got many things common between us, we laugh together, we fight, we have our agreements and disagreements, but we are there for each other, and funny thing is, none of us are of same age, we’ve got different majors, different careers, different kinds of personal lives/relationship situations- like everything is DIFFERENT among us. But we’re like a weird pack of wolves who manages to stick together. Now that I think of it, I think this oddball friendship, where I can ease myself, without worrying to hurt it and stuff, has subconsciously made me question whether my other friendships are okay or not.

Oh, also, I didn’t mention the other kinds of friendships, like the ones with my bros (guy friends I knew forever), well, I’m not ashamed to admit but, sometimes I can be quite a “basic bro”-ish human, and I think that kept our friendships alive and going just like they were when we were ten years olds. We can’t appear “awkward” in front of each-other even if we try. It’s just we’re so far away from each other, in geographical and time zone manner, we grew apart. We still fight, from fistfight or epic swear battles. I think some friendships don’t grow up even if we do.

Did I went way far away from my point? If I did, then let me state it again. I think I am incapable of being a friend to some extent. And it is NOT something to be okay with. Now that “real life” has began, and I’ve got more scary challenges ahead. Also, I’m turning into a one man bloody army. A weak one.


I think I’m never going to get a friend to sing the BFF song with. ūüė¶

On scale of 1 to 99, how pathetic am I?


Itches before Smooches: Art of (sad) Life

Well, before I even start, I must say what I’ve been saying to people who’ve met me more than a month ago. If you’ve read my previous blogs, you know how much my anxiety involves the health of my parents. So, my dad is recovering from a severe health issue. And already jumped in his regular life while healing (and it’s a heck lot of pressure). That has made my anxiety and fears stronger. Sleep has totally eluded me and focusing on my duties have become harder since now I have more things to fear and actually some of the things I used to “fear” have happened for real. My mouth is dry most of the time whenever I can sense dad is having a hard time and I have hardly anything to do with resolving it. Though he let me run his business for a few days when he was in hospital and a week or two after the surgery. But as a dynamic person he is, he took it over and working at least 5-7 hours a day.

Though it is hard for me to talk about dad’s health issue because it cracks me up. He suffered from it mostly because he was mistreated in his own business by his associates. Anyway, as I have done this “hard part”, it’s safe to tell you, I am in a even worse mental health position right now. I stress out more, I still have no mental health counselling facilities, and more of the scary stuff are bottling up. And channels to let these fears go are shrinking with time.

But (literally) some channels are too mythical to shrink. This is Mythical is one such channel. Along with GMM, GMMore, and Rhett & Link’s “main” channel (believe me, we still watch this, last Friday my friends and I were in a fb confo and someone shared a meme, which reminded one of us (not me) the Are you gonna eat that song, and we all went through the old Rhett & Link rabbit hole).

Today, especially was (and still is) a scary day for me, since dad had some important business stuff being executed and it took almost midnight. The whole day, at work I was worried, almost blotted as the ink-blotting papers. I repeatedly listened to the Mortal Kombat soundtrack while working on the websites to be tested, contents to be written, and menstrual pains to be felt.

I think these days I worry more than dad does, I guess I just try to worry his part along with mine, even knowing that one cannot do another person’s worrying. I wish it could be done that way though.

Enough “sidetracking”, I know. If this was bowling, the ball wouldn’t even be in the gutter. It’d be rolling on the alley floor.

The point is, the stress was a little easier on me since it’s Sunday. And Sunday means “Ear Biscuiiiiiiiiiiits” (Neh, not quite like the old mail song (Just FYI, new Ear Biscuits are available every Monday everywhere podcasts are found, this is the full video version of previous week’s Ear Biscuits)).

When dad switched off his phone, handed it to me and finally went to bed, I was finally a little “relaxed”. And started watching last week’s Ear Biscuits (yayy!). Boy today’s topic was fun. (Last week’s was cool too! Girling Up sounds like the book I think I could use when I was “growing up” and I’m sure you’ll know why as you keep on reading this blog (given I finish it and articulate it properly)).

Today they talked about “first kiss”. If you’re a mythical beast, you already know about this. And I think you go and watch it and not have it soiled with my sloppy discussions. Sure they tweeted and made fayboo posts about sharing our (the mythical beasts’) first kiss experiences. And I tweeted back, I’m yet to have one and I’m oddly compulsive about making a Drew Barrymore reference, I guess she starred and¬† produced the movie “Never Been Kissed”.

I decided to blawwg about that podcast because I felt like ranting. Not that I feel “bad” for not being in a relationship or having a smoochie everrr, even though I’m in mid 20s. But I felt like the world should know why have I “never been kissed”. Hey, everyone is allowed to be a little narcissistic.

To be honest, even though I live in a “conservative” country and community, “first kisses”, though tabooed, but aren’t “rare”. When I was in 6th or 7th grade, all the “popular girls” in our class had boyfriends. Oh, I studied in a co-ed military school. But the boys and girls studied together from grades 1-5 and then 11 and 12. From 6th to 10th grade, girls went to school in morning shift and boys in afternoon shift.

So, yes, like 30% of the girls in the class were the “popular ones”,¬† 50% were the “normal girls”, who’d have whispering conversations about the girls with boyfriends and sharing their “fantasies” (or “expectations”) of their Mr. Perfects, 10% were in-between the “popular” girls, and the “normal” girls. 5% were into only sports and NOTHING ELSE. My friends filled up the rest 4%, who were nerds and only cared for either Age of Empires or Simone de Beauvoir, and unanimously obsessed with Harry Potter. We even had a Hogwarts professor name assigned to most of our teachers. Yes, we had an Umbridge (dang, she still teaches there -_- (She’s the drill teacher and would never take girls on field for “modesty issues”, if that doesn’t sound like Umbridge, I don’t know what does)), several Snapes, a¬†McGonagall, and a female Professor Binns (no joke, many girls slept through the classes).

Oh yes, and there was me. The literal oddball. I was NOT “popular” but everyone knew me. Like literally everyone. Younger students would call me “Robin Hood” because I would straighten out the bullying kids for them, older students knew me because I was that kid who would be in backstage, helping out with the props for every event, teachers knew me because I was a responsive kid, and awfully regular (even though my grades were only “normal”). Also, before 6th grade, most of my friends were dudes. Which probably makes me more of an oddball. Like you know how the “societal segregation” work among kids, like the girls find boys “gross” and boys find girls “girly”.

I never knew what that was like. I grew up with brothers (cousins), my only sibling is a boy, most of my friends before school were dudes too. It was only normal. And unlike most parents in our “conservative culture”, my parents were never against me befriending boys either. I grew up around my uncles and aunts who had their fair share of healthy friendships with opposite genders and it was never awkward to me.

Well it wasn’t awkward to me because I used to think I was one of them. Actually I hoped something wrong happened to me and I’ll turn into a boy when I grow up. I’m not lying, I hoped that so hard. And when I read Tom Sawyer, I “hoped” that to happen with all my willpower (clearly that wasn’t enough). Especially when Tom’s wish of to be dead for a while and then being resurrected again like Lazarus came true, I thought mine will as well.

So, the 4 years old me used to think, someday this wrong will be corrected and I’ll be a dude like my friends. Now if you think, I was the poster “tomboy” girls they show in romantic comedy movies, with baggy jeans, crew cuts and grease on face, you’ll be mistaken. Sure, I’d have a crew cut, and would always be hanging out with boys, playing soccer or cricket and coming back home with a hot temper for stepping in cow-dung. But I would always be wearing frilly feminine dresses. My parents wanted to raise a strong, independent, intelligent FEMININE girl (I feel sorry for them).

So, boys were nothing to fantasize for me. And I developed what I thought was “my kind of thing to do”. Which was fancying a girl. Who was my friend’s cousin (boy she came back in my life later, and I was the one running away from her on tow, that’s a whole different (academic) story! (The crush is crushed and burned)). It happened in 5th grade, when my friends would talk about which girl they think are cute and they’re going to date in 6th grade. Well, I never said it out loud, homophobia is legal here, and even though I hoped to be a dude, I knew enough that others won’t believe it unless it happened, therefore I kept the lady of my fancy a secret.

Guess what? In 5th grade, a dude in my class (friend of my then bff) started acting strange towards me. And boy I hate creepy and gnawy dudes. I didn’t hesitate a moment to let him know he was acting creepy when he said he wants to “establish friendship” with me.

This feels strange to write about him right now, because he left this world (may Almighty have peace upon his soul). He’s gone too early. But those were our literally young days, and now I understand, he had a whole different “hope situation” planned in his head, just like I did.

So, in 7th grade, when I finally had my period (yes, in tropical countries period and menopause come early), I realized my hopes were TARNISHED. And this dude decided to “ask me out” on my first day of period. Bad timing bro.

Of course I lashed out on him. With things like “how immature it is for a 7th grader to ask a classmate out and clearly I am not interested in stuff like that”, well stuff that an “adult” would tell us. Boy! He didn’t expect that from me. I think I embarrassed him, because he came with his friends (who were NOT my friends) and they were finding his “situation” funny. I felt sorry for him at least a few years later.

So, I essentially battled with the sadness of not being a dude and having the life I wanted that only a boy could live in the society we lived. So, when my friends were slowly becoming “normal”, the “popular” girls were getting their first dates and first kisses and talking about those, I was more into Age of Empire, re watching The Matrix twice a day, fantasizing myself in fictional situations in books I loved (mostly Tom Sawyer), and having Harry Potter themed nightmares. Also, most of my friends had older siblings and they’d have all the insights and tips on studies, which were fairly recent, since I only got those from my mom and even though she was trained as a teacher were not as recent as theirs. Which developed an inferiority complex in me. I focused on that too. I had zero time for fancying dudes. Seriously.

When I finally found a male celebrity “cute” enough, he came out. I still love and appreciate this incredible Westlife vocalist. But the irony was interesting.

So, one of my Potter loving female friends got their boyfriend in 11th grade, she went to a different school though by then. Two of my friends developed platonic crush on their tutor who taught at a private academic aid that they attended, and another friend of mine got rejected by her classmate in a physics tutorial I think.

AND I WAS THERE, LOOKING FOR THE “Other me”, LIKE ORHAN PAMUK (the Literature Nobel Laureate 2006) MENTIONED IN HIS ADDRESS, THE “ANOTHER ORHAN” (excerpt from his then latest book Istanbul, a chapter named “My Father’s Briefcase” I think). I was literally looking for the another me, and also spent a lot of time daydreaming about the “what ifs” when I wasn’t studying.

I think “I missed the beat” there.

I opened up to having “cis crushes” when I started college, like “celebrity crushes”.


Bigger irony is, this dude was classmate of that dude who asked me out in 7th grade. And we all went to same college, I studied Computer Engineering and they studied Electrical Engineering.

Boy those agonizing days! That dude and I became friends later. He’s a happy married guy now. It’s awkward for me, but meh. That’s my secret, I’m always awkward (and I make Hulk proud!).

I was supposed to talk about why I haven’t had my much tabooed first kiss yet, right?

I think it’s because I was never “interested” or “driven” enough to approach. And never strongly felt the needs. Maybe the horrors that gnaw in my flesh have more of my attention, so I don’t care much about these “fluttery” stuff. I really don’t feel romantic most of the time. It does not happen to me without external triggers like a good romantic ballad or a moving piece of art/literature. And the effect never sticks for long. My bro friends said, I’m in a limbo.


No hope for kisses for me eh? That’s sad because I don’t end up in the surprise party every South Asian youth fears called “arranged marriage”. I think I’m ready for dropping my wards a little.


Does Hershey’s Kisses count?

We Don’t Help Ourselves/Nobody’s Gonna Help Us

UPDATE: I saw the PIRATED version of that book I mentioned first, it costed 200 units of our local currency and the Original version cost 1500 after bargaining. Still wondering why people prefer pirated stuff?

Today I’m here to rant about normalization of piracy and consumer rights fragile AF where I live (birthright much?)!

A book (to be sold in South Asian countries) for 600 Indian currency will be at least 2000 our currency. But 1 INR is equal to 1.25 of our currency. Yes. The book should cost like 750, and let’s just add 350 of our currency for “shipping cost” bs. It should be like 1100. But what the guacamole! If we buy that book in our country, it’s going to be almost double the bloody price!

And it’s same for the textbooks! Like most of my engineering textbooks are either published by McGraw Hill or Pearson. And they’ve got low price South Asian editions, like the Stein, Rivest and Cormen’s Introduction to Algorithms south Asian edition cost 450 INR. In our currency, the original South Asian copies should not cost more than 850 of our currency. But, the irony is, NOT ONLY THE ORIGINAL (South Asian edition) COPIES ARE HARD TO FIND! They are bloody overpriced! like 1600 to 2000 of our currency! What happens is, some bookstores (that sell engineering textbooks) obtain a few original copies, make photocopy of those books (horrid ones (and sometimes pages go missing)) and sell those in like 500-600 of our local currency (I’m referencing to Cormen’s book for price standard). They defend their deed saying, “We make engineering books more affordable! Not all students can afford to spend 800-1000 per book”. But the amount of money spent on photocopying from the original copies in uni library, to cross check what the heck is written in those poorly photocopied book is TOO DAMN HIGH! In the end, it costs if not more, then at least as much as what the original books would cost if they were available (in the MRP mentioned in books). Yes, we complete our higher study using piracy. Because our hands are tied. I spent a heck lot of time in thrift stores by the side of streets, browsing for old original copies of textbooks. Sometimes I got lucky. But most of the time, I wasn’t lucky enough and had to bear with those pirated photocopies. I’m not claiming myself a saint. But when it comes the creative people I appreciate and support, I always try to buy their intellectual efforts for what price they put for it. AND THAT INCLUDES THE INCREDIBLE PEOPLE WHO WROTE MY TEXTBOOKS.

And I guess since piracy (when it comes to textbooks) is normalized, we don’t have really strong stance when our consumer rights of getting to purchase premium contents (especially in Google platform (Apple trumped Google in this one. Schorry Google, I love you a lot, and still an android user, but you could not help us in this case, but Apple did.)) is in question.


I mean we literally live under a bloody rock!

Last year I screamed like a fvcking baby for being called a drool by one of my favorite yootoobers, because he thought I wanted their premium content FOR FREE when I asked “HOW PEOPLE LIVING IN THE COUNTRIES WHERE NEITHER YOUTUBE RED NOT GOOGLE PLAY STORE PURCHASES ARE FEASIBLE CAN ACCESS THEIR YOUTUBE RED SHOW?”


No vlogbrothers are going to ask our government to let us purchase Kedi. No Vesauce would come up with logical reasoning for us to purchase Mind Field. No Rhett and Link are going to raise their voice to change the reality that WE CANNOT BUY BUDDY SYSTEM BECAUSE WE ARE BORN IN ONE SUCH COUNTRY.

Because they’ve got like 100 countries covered. They’ll purchase their content and the revenue will be enough for them I guess. And in the end, if not all, then these stuff are significantly about money. And why would they even care.



I know, many of you would say, “Bugger off you filthy cunt! people of your country cannot even afford proper meals three times a day! And here you are trying to access “first world stuff”, okay, if you got enough money to purchase those contents and cannot because there’s no way to do so, WHY DON’T YOU DONATE THAT MONEY TO FEED AN UNDERFED!”


But my voice won’t do shit. I cannot do things like this on my own. And there’s another problem. MOST PEOPLE WOULD PREFER “accessing pirated versions” and this kinda is how shits work here. And that is why probably they have shut off legal ways to purchase contents. Because, it’s “unnecessary”. Or maybe there are more to it. Like foreign policy and other shizzle.

And since people around us have unofficial “encouragement” regarding pirated contents, they don’t really bother “standing up” for their consumer rights.

So, I guess I’m a lone wolf here.

A very tired omega one.

So, here’s to my failure. This time as a consumer.

But warmest wishes laced with Felix Felicis to Rhett and Link for Buddy System season 2.

P.S.: I am not going to watch this season either. I will have to cross border and be needing an international credit card to get hold of your content. Wait, I guess it’s more complected than that! Would you do that? If you were back in your old life as engineers? Would you risk legal complications to purchase contents from your favorite content creators? Wood you?

Perils of being a closeted attention seeker/Notice me Senpai!!!

Are you someone who normally don’t like attention from people (both in real & digital life) and there are times you crave to be noticed (by certain people(mostly who don’t really know you))? Then we need to meet, hug, and talk.

I mostly hate attention. It freaks me out. But there are times I would go beyond my ethical and moral limits to communicate with people, especially who are not interested in communicating with me. Just like I am feeling right now.

Generally I tweet some of the people (mostly youtubers, artists, and writers) I am huge fan of when I’m feeling like this. And repeatedly check my tweet analytics for a hint if anyone clicked on my tweet or not. It sounds lame and pathetic but that’s what I do.

However, today, to alleviate the pain of this feeling and the subsequent action, I am going to try to figure out WHY ON EARTH I DO THIS! I guess I found something out, while I was writing the previous paragraph and thought would write about that here, but I forgot what it was. I’ll write that down when I remember.

The first logical thing I can think of (w/r to me, not necessarily relevant to others) is, I’m totally not in peace with myself. I mean I am not satisfied with whatever achievement I have, I should have done more (and actually do some coding and not write this bloody blog and crave attention from people who don’t know me). This directly affects my amorous disposition. I’m somewhat incapable of feeling “luuuurv”. I’m often not attracted to people, like most of my peers are. Because mostly I HATE MYSELF TOO MUCH TO LIKE ANYONE ELSE! But sometimes I find tiny specks of reasons to be happy for myself, I allow to love myself a little. In those teensy moments I believe I have reasons to be appreciated, reasons to be attracted to others and have a sudden surge of hope that others (people I appreciate) would find some reason to appreciate my existence as well. Which is totally a stupid thing to think, but I do think that.

The other thing I was thinking, I crave attention when I don’t find interest in doing ANYTHING. ANYTHING includes stuff like reading fanfics, binge watching youtube videos and talking to friends on fayboo. I didn’t even dare including the things I NEED TO DO. Like prepping for GRE, doing some warm ups on HackerRank and so forth. I think I feel so low that I am daft enough for begging some attention from people who have no reason to give me any.

Yup! I remembered! Impostor complex! I often feel like I’m not just a minuscule being who isn’t achieving enough, also whatever shit I’ve seemingly “achieved” I don’t deserve those. To run away from those thoughts I also try to do other “impossible” and stupid things like asking for attention from people who don’t have any reason for giving that. I know it’s bloody pathetic. But if you’re familiar with my blogs, or with patience have read this far, know I totally am. I’m due to pray and workout and SLEEP. And this is what I am doing. If that’s not pathetic I don’t know what is!


What if, this blog was another passive-aggressive plea to the senpai people for noticing me?
Maybe it is!
Maybe I am the evil catdogmousehooman whom the world is afraid of.


Working out my way to nowhere…

Working out is the newest thing I have taken up and about to ruin for myself. Like all the other “seasonal” obsessions I have. Painting, writing, vlogging (and of course blogging)- you name it. HAAH!

Well, I asked for a pantsuit when dad went to China (yes, that’s what I do, like a baby human, ask for things to bring whenever my old man goes abroad) and he got me one, which is kinda not my size. And he spent a fortune on those.

So I decided to “get back to shape”, because pantsuits are quite important to me. And I am not a person who compromises with food. So, the option left was getting my fat, lazy ass on the spinning cycle.

I know, like every other constructive initiatives I take, someday I’m probably going to give this one up as well, even that Steven Pressfield book did not help much.


However, working out supposed to do some adrenaline boost and make me happier and positive. Haven’t been bitten by the positive-ness but yet. I’m feeling more like the Amazing Adrenalini Brother Xian, who thinks he’s the coolest one but gets hurt the worst in the end.

Well, since I know how I am going to mess this shizzle up, now I finally can relax doing something. Working out on spinning cycle is kinda becoming a highlight of my day so far.

The thing I enjoy most about working out, is the crazy conversations I have with myself, and the creative ideas I think about. Of course I find those total bullshit the moment I stop cycling, but while on motion, those ideas seem rather great. I feel like I am going to be some great scriptwriter, novelist, heck! a great programmer (because I feel like I can learn any programming language, even the ones I cannot bring myself to learning/assimilate with when I’m not in “motion”).

Yes, I am a crazy ass moron. A crazy ass moron who is yet to learn functional programming. Who is yet to get back to a friend and tell them that I chickened out when you asked me if I do functional programming or not and I didn’t reply. And my spinning cycle time assured me that I can do that too. I can read those documentations, have enough patience to watch those tutorials AND ACTUALLY THINK FOR A CHANGE!

Yes, I’m already milking on my happy time on the cycle. Surely I’ll give up soon. But at least I managed to document that I will do that. Do I get a YAYY?


(Of course I do, it’s my fucking blog for fuck’s sake!)

Y me nuu blog?

Even I hate the title. And that is why it is the title I chose (or maybe the title chose me, because memes.)

Well, I don’t blog because for a while people around me aren’t vocally threatening my existence as the person I am (for a change (I made it through a family dinner without being bruised by shits that come out of their mouth (thanks to those dry plain naans and kebab like chicken cubes- they were having a hard time chewing those beauties))).

I don’t blog because I’m tired, lazy and spending too much time in fayboo for a change.

I don’t blog because I’m a useless piece of shit.

I don’t blog because I’m more obsessed with twitter than I ever was before (nope, that’s a lie, I’m always obsessed with twitter).

I don’t blog because I’m watching too many foreign language movies these days.

I don’t blog because I don’t blog.

I don’t blog and I am not vlogging for more than a month now.

I don’t blog because I’m a serial procrastinator. I procrastinate because I enjoy it. I procrastinate because my inner resistance is even more afraid than it ever was after reading a few chapters of Steven Pressfield’s The War of Art.

I don’t blog anymore.

And I don’t like it.

So, here I am blogging about not blogging and maybe I won’t be back unless my butt is under fire for some reason. But hey, I always enjoy when I blog. It is my favorite form of ranting. Yes, even more than vlogging. I love to articulate my rants this way. Makes me feel good. Better than the Gorillaz song.

Or maybe I’m gonna write another blog tonight and then will wait for my ass to be on fire.


Of (self) Love and other Demons: V Day Edition

So, it’s St. Valentine’s Day. A well SEO-ed blog could get me some audience I could preach my rants to (for a certain limited period of course). But what do I know about love?

Well, my current life has made the notion of “romantic love” some kind of “lesser mortal enemy” of mine. I think I have already ranted about how much my “well wishing”, “tough love” giving family members (especially the XX chromosome holder ones (in other words, FEMALES)) are trying to make me “settle down” and by that they mean marrying me off to some dude so I can live “happily ever after” (Fuck them (Not the dude, those ladies. They deserve all my rages for the abusive ways they choose to assert their opinions.)), the ways people around me are trying to control my life are devastating me in such a bad way that I am becoming more depressed and less productive each day (Yayy! I’ve started ranting and it isn’t even the second fucking paragraph!).

So, they are like, “We’re all in if you have a romantic interest! We’re no old fashioned conservative people.”

Sure, they aren’t. Why would they be? Emotionally torturing a woman in her mid twenties is totally not an old fashioned conservative thing to do. It is a rather great practice.

Sometimes I wish I could transfigure them all into bulls and hunt them like they do in Mithraism and bathe in their blood. That sounds graphic, but the emotional torture does its own pretty magic.

So, “finding romantic love” has become the only way to avoid a “forced marriage”. Ain’t life beautiful?

And when I think about the fact that they will cut me down into pieces if they knew the truth, it gets worse. I cannot even voice the truth here in fear of life. So, romantic love is a totally lost game for me right now.

And I am hardly someone who can relate to that. That makes me want to write about another kind of love. Self love anyone?

Well, I’m not saying that I don’t receive some love. Actually I do, and I am very grateful for that! Every time I opened up about my problems in public internet space, I have always received love and moral support from strangers whom I will probably never meet (even in social networks), I have received words of support and encouragement from people I look up to. Environment activists, musicians, my favorite authors and most importantly my friends. And occasionally and very rarely (it sounds rather ungrateful, but they need to take the blame for not understanding me even when I tried to communicate and they were adamant to rather hold on to the words and criticisms of “other people” around them) my parents. And also from my little brother. This dude is too young to understand my woes, but he is always there for me.

A human being (even the deranged ones like me) needs some love (no matter how hard I try to deny it) to survive. Not necessarily it has to come from a “romantic interest”. But some love is necessary. Even Voldemort had a strange variety of love, his love for power (well, yes, I know it’s unhealthy in so many levels, but a love is a love). And yes, I ship him with Bellatrix (even though it’s one sided ūüėõ ). And most importantly, even Voldy the Moldy ¬†loved himself.

And so should I. I believe along with the love I receive from my friends, family and strangers – this self love that I’ve got for myself was (is) critical for my survival. I love myself. And it is so important, and I confess, it is a hard thing to do.

Especially if you are the person you never wanted to be. I never wanted to be a mess I am right now. According to the plan I had for myself when I enrolled in engineering bachelors, I should be doing my PhD right now and at this moment would be crying like a baby while working on my PhD materials and not writing this blog. But clearly I failed myself. And I hate myself for being such a stupid. I was defeated in the first round of “adulthood”!

But still, in the end of the day, I feel like I still have reasons to love myself. I still have something good inside me. A fire. An intention to rise from the ashes and do something productive and even if not like Barry Allen, then slowly working on the mistakes and achieving my goals past deadline.

Hey, this is my life! My ultimate deadlines to fulfill my jobs is the day when I am truly dead. I better cut myself some slacks and give a chance.

I better love myself. Like Hozier sang in Arsonist’s Lullaby. I should not kill¬†the fire inside me. It’s important.

And no matter how hard it is for me to accept my mistakes, if I believe there is some good inside me. I must love myself. Because I deserve it.

So, here’s to love. All kinds of love. The couples, the families, the siblings, the strangers, the icons and idols, the pets and the nature – let’s celebrate the awesomeness of love with all of them. Even if some of them refuse to love you for who you are (well of course as long as you are not harming anyone by “being yourself”), ¬†let’s ignore their negativity and assimilate with the positive vibes the rest to diversify the wounds.

Well, this blog was really incoherent (ain’t that my style?). However, the bottom line is. Never stop loving yourself for the person you are. You might want to change yourself for better, when you truly feel like it. Either way, keep on loving yourself for who you are right now and the good things about yourself for the person who you were in past. Because charity begins at home. And you are your first home.

This one is for love. All kinds of it!