I have a lot to say today. And I feel at peace with myself today.

I don't want to let myself go to bed, because I know I won't wake up feeling like this.

You might say, you might wake up feeling the same, you never know.

But I do know, I won't.

kbye now

What's the point?

All this has made feel pointless. I have to admit it's a strange feeling, but I can't honestly say it's a bad one.
Sometimes it's good not to have a point. It takes the weight of proving things and being what is expected of you off your shoulders.
That reminds me of this observation I made of humans and expectations. 

Invisible?

So, back to invisible. What I have learnt to do from my fake phase is to switch my mind off. This is a brilliant thing to be able to do because my mind can be a really annoying bitch that just won't shut up about things I honestly don't care about. I haven't mastered this skill yet.

When I say I shut my mind, I mean I manage to make myself stop thinking, and I just feel. I see what's around, I'll hear what you're saying, I'll feel what I'm touching and I'll absorb everything but I won't analyse it, I'll just let. it. be.

Letting things be is something we humans, as a species, seem to be VERY bad at.

When I'm letting things be I often find myself melting into the background, voluntarily, but the extent to which I feel like I'm not there is scary, so I snap back to reality (that just made me sing an eminem verse in my head :/)

I'm pretty sure thought, that if I let myself go completely. And if let myself feel like I am not, that you, sitting next to me, would also believe that I am not. And therefore I will not be. Lo and behold I'd be invisible, or alternatively, I'd stop existing. 

Scary. 

But exciting. 

To keep in keeping with the blogging in bursts, I have another post!
Before or after noticing the writer+phase thing, I came up with another theory. I think I know how to become invisible.
So, I have been realising (yes, again) that I don't like who I was at 15. I'm not even sure who I was at 15. But, I definitely wasn't me. I was, and I hate saying it, a faker. I did what I did because others did. I said what I said because others did. I tried thinking what I thought because others did. I wanted to be others, and I tried very hard.
I wanted to be others because I am not others. My very background makes me unlike the others. And then I had to go about thinking the strange stuff that I do. I am weird and I know it. But I'm not even the popular kind of weird. I'm not that outrageous friend of yours who does all the stuff you'd never dare, I am in someways, but that's not what makes me weird. This used to trouble me.
I kept it up for a few months. Dated one of guy for a month.It took dating him and then him breaking up with me to realise how I was trying to kid myself. I still don't know how to break up with a person :/ So instead I make myself be everything the person dislikes and make him break up with me and everyone leaves happy.
Now I just be me, I will say the strangest of things, if you put up with me and listen to what I say, even if you don't remember most of it (heck I don't remember most of the things I say) I like you and we can be friends. If you don't I'm afraid you're missing out :)
I'm sure you've noticed how much I deviate from the topic.
I'll get back to the invisible part, I promise.;
But for now, know that I don't fake anymore, and I feel like me. This is a happy feeling :)

Here I am :)
I realise that I blog in bursts.
I have also realised, while reading, that sometimes you come across the same phrase a few times at very short intervals in a book. And you wonder why the author felt a sudden affection to that particular phrase and what was happening to him/her when they were writing that part of the book.
For example, I've been using to realise a lot right now because I've been, well, realising!

Today I thought of aliens, and how we manage to stereotype what is fundamentally as the unknown. Which then made me think of colours and a heightened sense of touch. Which then led to me thinking about smell. I have this theory about smells which I voiced during this imaginary encounter. The next thing I new I was thinking about eyes and our sense of vision. 

I then realised why I was better at writing in French than in English. 

It's because when writing in English, my mind thinks much faster than my hand can cope. And I end up making no sense at all. But while writing in French the speed of my hand matches that of my mind. So it's works well and makes me happy. 

It made me wonder why the same logic doesn't apply to me writing in Marathi or Hindi. Then I realised that it's because then my hand works too slow seeing as I'm more accustomed to writing in the roman script than in the devanagri script. 

It made me remember why I generally speak out what I think rather than write it. Then I remembered I have a  blog where I can type utter bullshit 8|

Thinking and I

So, tonight I'm in one of those strange moods where you feel completely and utterly like yourself.
Before getting to this feeling I went through about an hour of incessant thought. I've noticed that when I think I tend to think of myself talking to someone. So, in my mind I have to create a situation where I would end up saying what I think to someone. All these situations are ones that are possible. Like today, I imagined myself with a group of friends walking down carter road where we stumble upon a friend of mine and his girlfriend. And he and I start talking, where I do all the talking because of course it's me doing all the thinking.
This is a person I would actually say all the things I thought of to.