The 10-Week Project

Quick update, I have exams right now and all I can think about is writing. So when I was supposed to be using my brain juices for actually passing my tests, I instead procrastinated until I came up with a really good idea for this blog.

And yes, I know I’ve posted updates like this before, but I guess it’s a just a way to connect with the very little audience that may or may not view this blog. Jk, it’s because I need to tell myself what to do from time to time. But I do love everybody who takes out time to view this blog ❤

So I'm going to start a series of posts, every week, on something I just feel like sharing. And this may not be fiction or poems like I usually do, just little thoughts that pop up in my head. And granted, they all may not be up to my unnaturally high standards of quality, but at least I can get content out on a regular basis.

So starting from the 23rd of September (the last day of my exams), I'm going to be posting little bits of the inner workings of my brain, for the next 10 weeks. Yay.

Just checked, that means that till the end of this year (31st Dec) ,I'll post a 'thought' a week. Ahh, serendipity.

Side note, the little works of fiction that I'm working on will also be uploaded along with weekly thoughts, and most of the pending review works (private posts) will also hopefully come up by the end of this year.

Ok I'm done. Your thoughts on this project will be really appreciated, and if you have any particular topic you would want me to write about, please let me know 🙂

For Barbs.

Just a little higher, she thinks.
The cleavage is not visible enough.
She wonders how many likes she’ll get,
If she can push them a little more up.

Staring at herself on a screen,
She captures her desperation.
To look like ‘them beauty queens’,
This has become her life’s passion.

Do it for the likes, she berates herself,
And so curls her hair and lips.
She removes her blemishes by editing,
But not the scars from within.

Her wardrobe is filled to the brim,
With miniskirts and make up.
She’s developed an anxiety about
Not looking plastic enough.

But she wasn’t like this before,
A quiet but amiable belle.
Then she discovered Instagram,
And rendered her dignity to sell.

She never had many friends,
But the few liked her for her heart.
Now she gets noticed solely,
Because of the paper stuffed in that part.

Oh barbs, I’m a little worried,
You’re changed so dramatically,
In pictures you smile coy and shy.
In life, I see you cry and weep.

Because that girl got more likes,
Or your 24th boyfriend cheated on you.
I had warned you to know his intentions,
Before you deemed his love as true.

You see, the likes from virtuality,
Aren’t an accurate representation.
Of the trueness of friendship,
It’s merely a well crafted delusion.

Barbs, you’re not happy.
It hurts me so see you so.
But if you choose insta-friends over me,
In an instant, I shall go.

War

“I feel like I’m waging an internal battle.”

You’ve heard this line uttered by countless teenagers and 20-something’s and this is the point where you make up your mind about this being just another cliche melodramatic rant. You would probably stop reading here.

Let’s try to think out of the box here, just for a second. Every battle is not the same. And mine doesn’t have two sides; it has many.

There is no good or bad, wrong or right side to my battle because a) there are more than two sides and b) if I knew which side was right, don’t you think I would have resolved this war?

So coming back to the point, I’m battling the different parts of myself:

The part of me that believes that our education system retards creativity versus the part of me that wants to get into a good college.

The part of me that doesn’t care what other people think of me versus the part of me that got upset when a boy called me a hypocritical airhead.

The part of me that yearns for human interaction versus the part of me that dislikes most of the people I meet.

The part of me that feels horrible when I say something against a person versus the part of me believes that differing opinions need to be expressed to bring about change.

The part of me that wants to stand out, but only in the ways which are socially acceptable.

The part of me that wants to have all the freedoms of being an adult versus that part that desperately clings to the shreds of childhood I have left.

The part of me that refuses to fall for the stereotypes the media subconsciously urges us to believe versus the part of me that tries to conform to ‘pretty’ almost every time I go out.

The part of me that knows I need to exercise more often because my health is deteriorating rapidly versus that part of me that just doesn’t exercise, because, exercise.

The part of me that rebels against high school drama versus the part of me that feels insufficient if I’m not involved in a high school drama.

The part of me that believes I’m special versus the part of me that thinks I’m just another human walking on a planet millions of human have walked on before.

I’m a walking, talking hypocrite inside. But isn’t everybody?