Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Birthday blues

Up until I was young, I loved my Birthdays, it meant someone did the cake and someone else got the gifts and it was someone else's job to see you that you were happy and all that. I can't remember, but I am sure I used to have parties too. What I do remember of course, is that I was reminded how I was born in a stormy, rainy night, and how it was no fun for anybody to be up until 4 A. M. when I finally showed up.


And now that I'm old(ER) I have really taken a dislike a complete dislike to my birthdays. These days you have to BYOH - bring your own happiness- for the celebrations. So, say New Year's?  I don't give two hoots about the resolutions and reflections. But the big day? Man that's a whole new set of hooters and a time to reflect


upon everything that I didn't  do this past year. The earth still needs saving, the blanket still needs knitting, there are dishes in the sink,  and I have to look for ways I have grown.

And have to think of things I've done to make myself happy and reasons to be all smiley on the fated day.  And I know I'll fail miserably if I go digging for the big 'H'. Pointless.
So I guess, I am just going to be who I am without trying to find out 'How I am'! 


PS:  If any of you were wondering why I'm a bit off the rocker, it's coz rock is not my thing and my DOB is kinda jinxed as far as sanity is concerned.

See the resemblance?

Friday, July 12, 2013

Enough to hang one's self with

I'm talking about hope, not the other coir coiled thing. Sometimes we just have too much of it. Of course we need a great deal of it, but there comes a time when we should stop hoping and accept what is, because that hope, the anxiety, the exhilaration for the future, the projected outcome can devastate us. Kind of like eating ice candy in sub-zero temps and hoping you'll finish it. The thing does not melt unless it's in your mouth and your lips are freezing and so is your tongue. You can persevere and finish the damn thing, but at what cost? Blue lips, cold insides , and it only tasted like the local anesthesia the dentist gives you, NUMBNESS. 
Hope is numbing,  and well feeling the real sting can be good sometimes.