STOLEN FROM EHAB: FOR YOUU.

EHAB'S SONG.

and now it's stuck in my head.

BLAH. BLAH. BLAH.

Too many distractions.
Too much junk food.
Sleeping 24/7.
Eating millions of packs of chips like a pig (blame hassan).
So much to study. Sociology; 3 units. Literature; Hamlet, A Streetcar Named Desire, The Homecoming, Point No Point. And 20 case studies for psychology. Uhhhhh.

Teach me how to balance?
Take my phone away?
Hide the t.v in the store room?
Empty my coke cans?
Get me an alarm clock?
Lock my laptop in the closet?

Read at your own risk.

The whole putting-ice-on-your-nose treatment only worked for a while. I have two tissues shoved up in my nostrils, soaked in blood. The other tissue is under my upper lip inside my mouth to keep the blood from running. Sorry, I know its disgusting. But complaining helps in some twisted way. Sick of these nose bleeds, man.

BORED BEAUTY.

It's sad how i have so much time on my hands and yet I'm so useless. Or maybe I just have so much time on me because I'm not doing what I'm "supposed" to be doing. Like studying for my finals for one. And cleaning my over-loaded closet which has been a hopeless mess since months. And not forgetting all the editing work for the school newsletter, cause unfortunately i happen to be the L.G.S Media Representative. Yeah, very cool. Well at least i get to go around wearing a fancy badge which automatically gives me authority to boss people around.

This purple sofa is pulling me in, it's too soft and the springs have died. They put secondhand sofas' in the school common room. Could the school admin. get anymore cheap?
Mehvish has been dying to get them to get an air refresher for the stinky common room (the biryani's and shawarma's stink like shit and i speak from experience!) but no, I'm telling you that its never going to arrive.
Yeah, now I'm done complaining :)

I miss my movie date with mum from yesterday. We went to see this Indian movie called Kites. Kinda romantic/action and it had the whole Romeo and Juliet thing going on in the end which really put me off, but oh well.

Rabia's contagious sickness continues to cling to me.
Note to self: Remember to kill Rabia next time you see her!

I'm hungry but I'm not buying. I need to save up for a new cell phone. I mean really by now I'm sick of staring at the screen every time I'm expecting a call and the unexpected ones just go unattended. Seriously, i have a phone that doesn't ring. How very nice.
But before that i gotta pay back Iman. So much for that five grand dress that i bought last week for "prom".
Oops, there goes the bell for class. Laterrr.

99 prison rd.

I just found an old letter addressed to dad from:

New York State Department of Correctional Facility
99 prison road.
Woodbourne N.Y 12788

Daddy's old friend from college, Faisal. He started hanging out with the "wrong" sort of people and ended up in jail at only 22. A sentence for twenty years. Wow pretty crazy huh.
I wonder what exactly was his crime. I wanted to ask dad but then i thought better of it.

Its so crazy how a small mistake can change your life. How when you're young all it takes is a tiny bit of inspiration and a little adrenaline rush to do something so wrong. And then it makes everything that you ever were completely irrelevant. It's actually scary.

Ugh.

Could today get anymore perfect? The minute I stepped into the shower, somebody turned the water motor off and tada no water!  I can make a fairly good guess who this was. Seriously little brothers have nothing better to do. Mujtaba actually used to be nice to me. It's crazy how growing up changes people.

I supposed to go visit mum this weekend but I told her I couldn't cause I had to study for finals and I have these assignments due next week but since I didn't do any of them, I feel super guilty for turning her down. Maybe I'll just go call her and make a plan for tomorrow or something.

Saturday blues.

Saturdays have officially become boring. The long hot afternoons never seem to end. Especially when you know that finals are coming up in less than a week and you cant study.
I tried to read The Homecoming by Harold Pinter for literature and omg that play is very very disturbing.
I'm supposed to start Hamlet today. Yuck. Not that i have anything against it but the classes are so dragging that I was bound to lose interest.

I'm out of credit so no texting either. Sometimes I love being creditless/phoneless. It just makes me feel free but then I need my distractions so unfortunately I'll get me credit in a bit.

Laughing fits and other things.

It was burning hot today. The kind of heat that makes you want rain. But when you're sitting out on the bench in school with two of your favorite people, the heat hardly seem to bother you.

I cant remember what I ate today cause whatever it was, it got me pretty loopy. Actually I know what happened. Its a general rule that crying too much always leads to laughing too much and vice versa. Yesterday this sad movie got me thinking about dying. It was too depressing I tell you. So naturally tears happened. I normally don't cry a lot. Okay, that's a lie. Hassan actually calls me crybaby. I had this laughing fit today. I went on and on with my stupid stories, cracking up like an idiot.

Mariam said she hadn't laughed this much in ages.
I guess we all need a day sometimes to laugh everything off. Cause maybe, sometimes forgetting the pain for a while, just makes it all right.

Psych with Zimbardo.

Yes, I'm still up and struggling to finish my psychology homework. Seriously these teachers have a knack for giving an overload of homework just right before the weekend. As if I have no life.

Maybe if I hadn't slept at twelve and finished these case studies then I would have been sound asleep right now. Got two more questions left and I'm here blogging,

There was a time when I used to hate studying at night. It just never made sense to me. Why would people wake up in the night to study when you've got the whole freaking day! But then I figured..
When you actually have life, you tend to study at night.
Anyway. I better go back to Zimbardo's research on prison life. So I can catch up on some sleep after.
Laterr.

xo

The day I ran.

Its late and I'm sitting here so tuned into the past wishing that somehow she'd say my name and ask why I'm still up. Ask me whats bothering me. Just ask me something.
But people leave and then its never the same. They don't come back. people who you always think will stay with you. Distance complicates life. It pushes us to move on. To move away. away from those whom we love the most.

But as Menahil puts it: "Such is life, my friend. such is life."

Tell you a little story about the day I ran.

I ran with all my strength, my legs working together mechanically. I ran bare foot on hard, burning concrete. My stomach ached with anxiety. Cold sweat dewed all over my body and I could feel my hands turning to ice. I ran and ran till the air left my lungs. My legs almost completely gave up and I could feel the joints in both my knees. And as much as I wanted to I just couldn't make my body move fast enough. But I still ran as the miles disappeared behind me.
I knew the car was long gone but there was something that kept me running after it, yelling for her. My mind refused to register the fact that she'd left. Left me. I was sure that there was nothing now that could make her turn around, but a little part of me hoped that she would, wished that she would somehow come back for me. Tears willed up in my eyes and I let them flow; unchecked, sure they would never stop.
My head started to pound, but what hurt more was my heart that ached with the desire to hold my mom close. Hold her and cry onto her, find the comfort in the circle of her arms. hold her and never let go. I shut my eyes just for an instant, letting my tears wash over my face. I tried to remember what had happened, tried to piece it all together but I couldn't concentrate. All I could remember were how things crashed onto the floor and heart-rending shrieks that had made my blood run cold. Now it all seemed like a sped up movie that showed only the important parts.

I sat in the corner trembling before I realized that I couldn't let her go. And then I ran and ran and ran.
Ran till my feet bled, ran till my vision became a blur. Ran till every muscle in my body ached. Ran till the deserted street ahead of me turned black and I heard myself crash-land before I felt it.

A thought.

Daddy always calls me a loudmouth. It never bothers me, its just who I am. Always talking too much, too loud, only occasionally making sense. So here I am, talking and telling stories. I always used to tell my little sister how I wanted to be an astronaut. It was the fourth grade trip to the Johnson's Space center in Houston that got me all inspired. But eventually I figured that science was not so much for me.

I want to be a writer.