What I want is …

What I want is a long lazy day with overcast skies and wide open windows. Good music perhaps. Banana bread that I made. Port wine is a possibility but not a necessity. We could watch a movie or two. I could relax. It would be so easy. Like breathing. 



I’ve been sort of blindsided. I wasn’t expecting this and I can’t seem to help myself. I have a bad feeling that we’re headed straight for disaster. One can only hope that the trip there is worth it.

Picture-post #1



This is where I normally live. Waterloo in the evening, around 8 o clock. Taken on the way to campus. It’s not a very good picture, but I love sunsets and the way the colours bleed into each other here.



Huevos rancheros. Dished up last fall by me during my stay in Toronto. Recipe from Smitten Kitchen. That was the last time I cooked anything more exciting than daal-bhaath.



These are friends. Taken one rummy day this summer. They are not dating, but I love this photograph. That there, on the left is my sunshine. There are some people who live up to, and exceed your expectations. They’re the best sort of surprise.



This is one of my best friends. This is possibly my most favourite picture of her ever. It is not a good picture by any means but the expression is basically her. 

ImageThis has been the spirit of this summer. A and KD on the day that StonerJesus left for the nth time. Taken on StonerJesus’ roof. 



This is one of my favourite songs. This is one of my favourite bands. If I ever do get married, this would probably be the song I’d want to play at the wedding. How I feel about The Beatles is how my mum feels about Rabindranath Tagore. No matter what the mood, occasion or feeling, there is always that one song by them that is appropriate.

This is something I’d written about them long ago:

My love affair with the Beatles started when I was a kid- around the 5th grade, I think. Not in the grandest way imaginable. The first song I heard wasn’t ‘Here comes the sun’ or the sublime ‘Norwegian Wood’ or even ‘I Wanna Hold Your Hand’. It was Obladi Oblada. That’s right. A music competition, and that was the song they picked for us. No wonder we didn’t win. Next came ‘When I’m 64’. All this in school, mind you. Sorta makes me wonder- what were they thinking? Or smoking, for that matter. Possibly it was the good ole Indian school system trying to keep us safe from thoughts of love and kissing and all the weird wonderful things that the Beatles would inevitably expose us to. Anyway.
I really want to write about this properly, y’know? But I’m a ‘Nowhere Man’ right now. Sometime soon but. For sure. My relationship with The Beatles is probably best described as the on-again-off-again boyfriend, whom you keep going back to, before finally realizing that he’s the one, and falling deeply,passionately, and irrevocably in love.

“all the lonely people, where do they all come from
all the lonely people, where do they all belong?”

I have realized…

I have realized that I need to write about my life. Writing is the only way that I can make sense of most of the tangle of stuff that just comes at me on an everyday basis. Most of the time I’m a glorious web of confusion- a bunch of sights and sounds and smells and people all smushing into each other and fusing together. In my head, that’s a very pretty sight. Did you know that the only way you can learn is by actually changing the structure of your brain? Your very neural connections change- certain synaptic junctions are strengthened and certain ones are allowed to disintegrate and be lost. This isn’t something you can really help, but it’s an idea which fascinates me. We are literally changing all the time. It isn’t even something we can help. I wish I could be more eloquent about this and explain it in a more academic way, but clearly that isn’t happening. The point is, that who I am right now is not who I was yesterday or possibly even an hour ago. I simultaneously like this idea and am terrified of it. I like the idea of never growing stale, always a fresh start- sort of. But the thought of actually losing the person I used to be is borderline nightmarish. Turns out, I know myself even less than I thought. Psychology courses will do this to you. One day when I’m all grown up I’ll be doing something with neuropsychology.

I have decided to revive this blog. The very reason I started it was because I wanted a fresh start and a place to write where people don’t actually know me. I can write what I want and I don’t have to be paranoid about anything. I quite like this theme. It reminds me of Mark Haddon’s ‘The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time’, which was a book I didn’t like all that much.

I will now proceed to post menny posts, verymenny of them. Mwahaha