It's not cold in Chicago

Div.
It's not cold in Chicago yet.
What the fuck are you doing shivering and quivering with that cigarette in your hand?
You have a wool coat on, cashmere blend.
And you hold in your hand a camel long.
It's not cold in Chicago, Div, you are wrong.
It's not cold in Chicago yet.
You saw your first snow, flurries to be honest.
It has not even snowed yet. It's not a white forest.
Not yet.
Your coat's fabric is made in Italy
And you're standing outside your building, timidly
What the fuck Div, why?
It's not cold in Chicago.
Remember about the man who walks around on the streets?
Torn shorts with broken shoes and a broken mind?
How the fuck must he be feeling?
Are you fucking willing
To be him?
No you're not. So why are you cribbing?
Instead of living
In this fucking city like the boss you are?
It's not even the beginning
It's not even thrilling
So what the fuck are you talking about, Div?
It's not cold in Chicago.
Not fucking yet.
You're standing tall in the streets
You're walking with the beats
Not the ones by Dr. Dre
But I am talking about the music you play
While you're commencing about your 'swag walk'
Enough talk
It's not cold in Chicago yet Div.
Get a hold of your fucking self.
And a hold of those pair of balls you just lost.
It's not cold in Chicago yet Div.
It's only cold in your heart.
Only in your fucking heart.

Just how many times have you Lol'd today

Just how many times have you,

lol'd today, you fucking whacko?

Today is a weird day. Chicago is surprisingly neither cold, nor wet. But the people down at Wicker Park most certainly are. Probably because it's a Friday night and they are looking to get "turnt." But seriously, fuck these bullshit drinking laws of the United States. It's one thing that divides me from this country. Right now I would probably be in a club in Singapore with a vodka shot in my hand, another one already going down my oesophagus.  What you doing at home on a Friday. Boy, I am waiting for my fake i-day. I cannot fathom the stupidity of whoever thought that people should start drinking "legally" when they are 21. Like adolescents are known for fucking around in their age groups. They're going to fuck, drink, do drugs anyway. There is not only one way. Fucking idiots in the system. This is one of the areas which makes me lose my faith in the government and rich people. If I could just knock some sense in their brains... Or knock them in the fucking gut. 

I feel surprisingly arrogant today. Maybe it is this iced mocha I just had, or maybe it's the stupid people around me all over the fucking place. I would go with the second reason. I cannot stop thinking about this psychotic woman who's giving everybody a hard time. I cannot believe she can even give someone a "hard" time with that face and personality. Jamming to five hours in a cafe shop writing this, tell me I am Dali. 

I feel like the female version of Kanye West today. I do not know how that fucking bloke made it so big lol. I am looking at this wankstain typing something on his 4 inches waste of fucking technology. No seriously fuck that shit. I'd rather have a lobster telephone in my hand, because FUCKING DALI.

In case I did not tell you, there is no defined purpose of this post lol. But is there any defined purpose of any fucking thing any more? I guess not. 

I will tell you, one thing that I am certain about. Being an artist is f u c k i n g c o o l. Word. You can do anything you want without any given explanation. Why are you wearing that? Oh, I am an artist. Why are you drinking that? Oh I am an artist. Why are you having a seizure? Oh I am an artist. Why is he wanking about in public. Oh he's an artist. Just saying that I am an artist or he/she is an artist makes one think that one is fucking weird and basically just gives you a free ticket to do anything. Drugs, women, men, coffee, pissing on a Warhol painting when he's standing right there. Believe me, that's been done by the one and only, Salvador Dali. Shit you not. 

Dali is my alter ego. Or maybe, wait. Dali is my real ego. I am just not that great of an artist to fuck around with people's feelings but that does not stop me. Because I am Divya fucking Taneja. Literally, sometimes I feel like I am an asshole but then when I look around, I am surrounded by them. So I tend to conform. I just say everything I feel like on somebody's face. Take it or fucking leave it. I do not give a bloody fuck what you think. And I do not fucking care what you say about me. But the difference between you and me is that, I have shiny ass metal balls to say it to your dick shaped face. This may sound like a hate post but it's just what I feel about some people and I really do not give a fuck lol.
This bloke is stoned out of his fucking mind and is playing Mario and sucks at it. Lol, he is so bad at this. Bro, you just got killed- he does not give a fuck. But on the contrary, he wants to fuck. There are three kinds of sheeple. 1) those who give a fuck. 2) those who want to fuck. 3) those who just don't give a fuck in any shape, size or font. I think you can tell that I am obviously type 1. Lol. 

So, I have no clue what I am doing right now. The bro playing the video game just flaked lol. My lungs feel full of smoke and it is difficult to breathe right now. I do not know what I am doing with my life right now but I do not fucking care- why do you? There are sometimes you just got to tell your brain to shut the fuck up and then flash your tits. Yes. Believe me, you will feel 100% better. I swear to God, I'd be remarkable therapist. I despise the "self diagnosed" kind of people who just crib about everything and then turn out to have nothing wrong with them. I just think to myself, man, that cannot be true. You definitely do have something wrong or maybe it is just the absence of a brain. Gave that a thought, therapists? No. You know why? Because you cannot be truthful to people as you will not make any money, any more lol. You know it. You money hungry pieces of shit. After the greens- both ways. And no I am not talking about the vegetables.

ANYWAY, I have no idea what the fuck this post is  about. I literally do not know how I am such a fuckwit sometimes but it's cool. It makes me hip- lol. Back to the topic, just how many times have you lol'd today? I have pretty much lol'd through my day. Still loling to be honest. I scratched my face because I had to deal with somebody's stupidity today. So yeah. People do way too much to amuse me sometimes. It's great. A free comedy show, whenever, where ever. Well anyway, I have to sign off now because I cannot think of anything else to write. So bye cool. 

Nanaji

It's nearing, the day he died.
The day I lied about "not feeling emotional." I wish I had mourned enough.
Dear Granddad- I miss you.
It's going to be 4 years soon. It hits me harder each year. Not mourning when you passed. I knew I had you but I was young and I did not want your wisdom back then. I wish I did get some of it because I am so fucked up right now. I knew I had you but, I do not, any more.
My tiny 15 year old hands were your deathbed. You and I were alone that evening, it was not cold or anything. Your last minute was what was surrounded by your wife and this relative I disliked. I remember you holding my hand and asking me to give up before I started to give you the little CPR I knew. It was painful. To know what was going on and yet not to acknowledge it. It was, painful. I looked at you and I did my best. I am sorry for not being the doctor you were, maybe if I was, you would have been physically with me, today. I feel hurt.
I did not mourn your death. I was so in love with this "first love" of my life that I ignored the fact that this will ever affect me. And it did. As I said, it gets worse every year. The more I learn, the more I repent. I wish I could have spent more time with you in your last days. You were getting better and then, you were gone. I feel shattered, right now.
It's 4 am in the morning, 21st October, 2 days before it all happened. I remember the brief fight you and the other family members got into because of some dumb reason. I remember but I ignored it, I did not want to be a part of it. You knew me, I'd keep myself away from all of the shit that was going on in the house. You knew me best, I just did not know that. I wish I was older, wiser so that I could have understood you better.
I had saved your life before. I would have lost you before but I saved you. It felt really scary but I saved you and it makes me proud of myself. Thank you for teaching me and spending time with me. If you had not, I would have lost you sooner than later. Thank you for keeping with me for a while longer, granddad.
I'm writing this post to you as if you will be reading it, but you will not be. It hurts to know the reality but not being able to face it strongly. I always tried to forget this day since the last four years but this time, it's getting to be really bad. Life has been hard and I wish I could have held you and come up to you for guidance. I swear I wish I could.
You were always proud of me. You always believed in me even when nobody else did. I wish I had people like you around me who would tell me my value. You made me believe myself. I wish I was older. I wish I was older enough to talk to you about the stuff I am going through right now. About life, about you, about me. I wish. Oh how I wish.
Ever since you left, my life changed, nana. I fell in love, I fell out of it. I was in depression for a year. Nobody saw it, really. I hid it quite well, according to myself. I wonder, if you were there, what would you have seen. What would you have told me. Would you have taken me in your arms and tell me that it will be okay, that you will always be there for me? Would you have seen my scabs and sterilised my wounds? Would you have taken me on long walks to get me a cone of ice cream even if you had trouble walking? Would you have sneaked in my room at 12 am and eat sweets with me? Would you have let me cried on your lap? I wish I could have experienced your wisdom when I needed it most. I wish.
I keep wondering, what we would have talked about if you saw me like that. Talking about love, friendship, parenthood etc. I wonder how those conversations would have been. I wonder how you would have talked to me about my parents. I wonder how you would have talked to me about the people I disliked. I wonder and I cry that I could never talk about such things with you, at all.
You gave me liberty and freedom. You shaped me up and made me turn into this crazy, twisted person I am today. I feel wise for my age and that is all because of you. I wish you were with me in this stage of life so that I could have shown you my artwork. I wish you were here with me so that I would not have to depend on my biological parents for anything. I wish you were here so that you could have seen me acknowledge you when I receive my first award. I wish you could have taught me things only you knew. But I never got the chance and when I did, I was too young and uninterested.
Nana, I miss you. A lot. I still keep the phone you bought me with me. I never really realised that that phone is actually the last physical memory I have of you. I have your notepads lying in India in my room's bookshelves. I loved your writing. It was and art. I really wish you were here so that I would not be crying writing this but it's something I will not get. I know. I always wanted to make you proud- and you were always proud of me but, I wanted to be proud of myself and then make you proud. I wish I was elder. I hope you are in a better place. Anything must be better than human life these days. I hope you are at peace. If you're reading this over my shoulder in ghost form, blow me a gentle kiss on my forehead and know that I love you. I hope, if reincarnation is real, that you will be a major part of my next life. I do not have any more words to say--just-- I love you, nana. Rest in Peace. 

Hope

The topic of this piece, I've lost it all.
Hope.
I remember when I was younger, about 16-17, I framed this quote, "hope is a dangerous thing, but it is the one thing that keeps us alive." which is true, if you think about it, but yes, now that it is all gone, I feel dead.
I have felt dead before but this time, it's a more advanced level. I do not know where I am or who I am any more. What people are any more. I am just mentally and emotionally prepared to- give up, quit living. I do not know when I might take that step but, I think it might be soon. I do not know, I am not sure.
Hope. I used to be a very hopeful person, once. By once I mean, until day before yesterday. Everyday now seems to be spiralling and hazy. Every morning feels bland, every night, feels weaker than the one before. Funny how I have demeaned my life so much, yet again.
I do not know where to go. I do not have anybody to go to. Friends, sure, but I still hide the darkest parts of me, somewhere. The lack of direction and focus has got to me to such an extent that I am prepared to, end it all, for good. I feel worthless and unworthy of anything. I feel like a waste of human space. I feel so gloomy. My eyes have started showing that and so has my body. There is nothing that I can think of doing, no where I can think of going. I do not have a home. If I return back, I fear that I will feel the same and still end myself. I would feel better about it, ending myself around people I know, to be honest. I am just so scared and lost. And lost as it is, I have. In every way. I have lost my people, I have lost my interests, I have lost my skills, focus, bravery, strength and most importantly why I am cribbing about it is that I have lost myself. It just feels like nothing was "mine" to begin with. Nothing. I do not know where to run to, any more. To my mother? To my safety net? To- myself? I just do not know.
I am not certain about what I might do in the future, but it seems to me as if there is no way out. With such treacherous familial relations, friends who I can not breakdown in front of, a person who I call "dad" not being here, all in all, adds on to it. I feel morbid and shallow. My life feels teary-eyed. I have lost my vision and I do not know what I desire any more. I got what I had desired but, it is lost too. So, everything feels "gone." It's all vanished somewhere. Into thin or thick air, I do not know. And to be honest, I do not have the strength or capacity to look for it any more.
I have lost all. I have given up on everything and myself. I do not know what I am going to do. I just want to be happy, like I used to be. Even the music that plays does not give me joy as it used to. Conversations with people tire me. I just want to be put to sleep forever. I do not want to wake up. I do not want to start over. I just want to be in a vacuum, with no thoughts in my head and not face any reality. It all felt like a surrealist art piece before, now it's just a realist art piece which I do not appreciate. But both of those movements have ended, question is, when will I? Will I have to make it happen? I do not know.
I am so scared.
I am so, scared.

Assurance

2:02 Am.

A cold and wet night. 15th October, 2014. 

I made it, to 19. 

Pretty much alive.

But I am not so sure any more.

I am not sure about anything. At all.

The past 7-8 months in my life have been tormenting and amazingly shaky. A part where I did not do anything, could do something but yet could not.

I am just not sure about anything any more.
I wish for something stable. Something I know that will last long. Something that I will stick to and I just am not able to find anything like that. Nothing is stable. Not me, not my life, not my mind, not my sight. I have a vision and an apparent goal but I do not know about that either. It is a very disturbing time in my life, one of the toughest phase in my life. Everything is so disturbed and distorted. Whenever I reflect back at my life, it feels as if I am looking through a prism, but except for seeing the white light turn into a spectrum, the light still remains white. I am afraid.

I am afraid and I am scared. I am a turmoil inside out. I am a storm, a hurricane, a tsunami. I am just scattered. I do not know where to pick myself up from. There is a lot going on my life but yet I feel so stagnant. I hate this feeling. I want to be dynamic and fast, like I usually am but nowadays, I am not even sure about what I am or who I am, any more.

I have gone through some major changes in my life recently which have made me, different. I have broken down to pieces, rebuilt and broken down day after day, night after night. I am a different person. I can feel it and it is hard, for me, for the first time in my life, to adjust to this change. It is hard.

I just want something stable. I just want some assurance that I will have something. All these years of independent living and behaviour, I want something stable. I want to know what I want to do. I want to know who I will be with in the time when I am "doing something with my life."  For the first time in my life I want to earn money, my potential wants to. I want to reach amazing heights but the only heights I can reach to are the buildings from which I might fall down, on purpose. I see skyscrapers but I do not work in them. I see tall figures but I do not work with them. I see inspiring activities but I am not a participant. I see coloured canvases on white walls, but not my creations. I want to be there. I wish I had something I was sure about. I wish. This is the first time I have ever been scared in my life of everything. I do not feel like taking risks but I still am. I pray daily, that I find some stability and some sort of acceptance. I might, in the near future, but will I be a part in that near future? I do not know. I do not know what I might do. Life is a gamble but not a casino. It's been tough. I wish I had stability, for the first time. I wish I had myself when I need me most- but I do not have me. 

The Breakdown

A tall figure of a recently grown girl,
Sinks to the ground in utter disbelief,
Her hand grasp her face so tight,
She does not live, she does not die.

Holds and idol against her breasts,
Which were fondled not only by her lovers,
Her eyes pouring out, her lashes fall,
She slams her head against the wall.

She screams in physical and mental pain,
She looks away, she looks disdained,
She wails like a little bitch in distress,
Yelping in pain, she rips off her dress,
Which was once the work of a man,
Who she loved- who she destroyed.

She takes the blame on herself,
She looks back at the things he did- things she said,
A wilted lover's memories in mind,
She sinks further into the bed- she cries,
Looking into the mirror, she does not recognise,
Her own image, the tears act as blinds.

Her eyes and face smeared with kohl,
She claims to have been here before,
She sinks into the bathroom floor,
Curled up in the foetal position, but not in her mother's womb.

She wished to be held by the one she loves,
But the one she loves says he needs to fuck,
Other women to build this love,
Which was not as strong for him as it were,
For her.

She wants to go ahead and die,
She goes to the fire escape and lies,
On the steps breaking her spine,
A sudden gush of fear in mind.

Her body is exhausted for the fifth time,
Passes out with her imbalanced behind,
She wants to cuss herself out loud,
But she does not because she is somehow proud,
Of herself and the things she's done,
And she expects nothing in return,
But just love from the man she loves,
But he just gave up.