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Goodbyes are hard and so is my dick

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  March 19, 2024  It’s been over a week since my “best friend” and I had an “argument”. I air-quoted the argument bit because you argue when both sides seek to share their sides of the story. And this is a one-sided story because when confronted, the other just chose to question it, get defensive, and slap an emoji on the conversation, rendering it shut.  In the past few days, I went through our conversation multiple times. I came to terms with the fact that there was no need for me to blow up. But I hadn’t suddenly blown up either. It came after multiple tries to communicate, telling my friend of about 9 years that I’d appreciate it if she communicated better. Or did at least as much as I did [call once every 7-10 days].  When she called me on my birthday at 3 PM, I had already spent 15 hours of my annual birth anniversary, and because I happened to be around people who cared for me all that while, her not doing anything didn’t pinch as much. So when she did call and said that I h
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I watched Poor Things. I'm not sure why.

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Perfumed with Obsession

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Every year, my allergies get worse during a certain time of the year, which is usually the time when winters start to recede. I don’t exactly know what I’m allergic to, but every time I broom my house or get stuck in a traffic signal longer than 120 seconds, the smoke and the dust start to get to me. It results in a mild-to-headache triggering sneeze-fest and makes my palms itchy and sweaty. I also react very badly to men’s strong-smelling deodorants.  But his fragrance was different. I could tell he’d taken pains to apply it because the scent filled the entire living room the moment he entered my home for the first time. I liked it - not just him in my bed beside me, but the scent that lingered in my sheets long after he left. I made no secret of how incredible the scent was, and he told me it was a Calvin Klein fragrance. I have the hots for good-smelling dudes, bite me. We snuggled in my tiny bed in the shade of my bedside lamp, and watched Disney’s ‘Soul’. Later, we did what he
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From the archives [Jan 22, 2022]

  If you follow the internet and aren’t completely living under a rock, you must’ve heard about this viral hashtag  #WestElmCaleb on Tik-Tok. Apparently, this 6 feet-something white male on an online dating site has dated half the women in New York. I wonder if Sex and the City took place now, would he find a mention in Carrie’s lame-ass blog. Don’t get me wrong - SATC was revolutionary for its time - but without the legendary Samantha Jones, it’s just a twenty-minute crib fest. Anyway, just to give you a very brief background into the fiasco, Caleb, who dated all these women, would first love-bomb them [act extremely affectionate, showering a person with gifts, compliments, the whole shebang] and then ghost them. Caleb works at West Elm, a furniture store in New York that has, ever since become a part of the trending hashtag. I cannot imagine how it must’ve become for the poor dude who, until now had a really good thing going for him. Apparently, the first woman who uploaded the video
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Don’t stop Believing

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Why you mustn’t miss the magic of Timothee Chalamet’s Wonka The best way to receive art is to absorb it like a sponge absorbs water. The sponge knows not the nature of the liquid - it embellishes itself to retain anything it is given with its whole soul [don’t ask me if I’m saying that inanimate objects have a soul]. A lot of times I don’t go watch a movie in the theatres if I’m not particularly excited about it, or if people everywhere are talking shit about it. Sometimes I don’t like when a classic has been remade with actors I don’t care about. What I’m trying to say is, there’s a million reasons you’d give yourself to not go watch a movie in the theatre and wait for it to be streamable from the comfort of your home. So when Wonka finally came out to theatres, I was skeptical at first. The last time I saw Timothee Chalamet in a movie, he was staring at a fire with Sufjan Stevens’ Visions of Gideon playing in the back which felt like a deliberate punch in the gut nobody asked for.
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I love you dude. Let it rip. [Why you must go watch The Bear right now]

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  If you’ve been a regular reader of this godforsaken blog, you might’ve read the fictional stories [Part 1: Girl meets boy & Part 2: The Lost Dog]. It might be a great time to tell you that those fictional characters were [very] loosely based on my friends in college.  Friends in college can be a whole ass experience because the morons you hang out with can either make or break you. Literally. They’re like skunks who imprint on your spiritually and leave you with personality traits that last you a lifetime.  There’s a reason that The Breakfast Club is a cult classic. There’s a reason why every one of you cried like a bitch when Tony Stark died. There’s a reason why we all sing along to the Barden Bellas, or love to see three friends outrun bulls and waste tomatoes in Spain and a reason that when Farhan and Raju go looking for their friend Rancho, we want to go along with them - because as human beings, we all deserve and need people who get us, who make life simpler. We are t
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Don't cry over Lost Bedsheets

  I’ve changed three houses in 4 years. If you know me, you know I’m an easily adjustable person to live with. I keep to myself, don’t make unnecessary fusses, and am too uninterested and barely have the time to poke my nose where it doesn’t belong. But about 4 months ago, when I first realised I have to shift houses, I began to question whether it, in fact, is me who might be the problem. Full disclosure - I had to vacate the first house because the owner wanted to sell it so it wasn’t entirely up to me. The second house, on the face of it, offered a smaller room but ample storage. What it lacked in space, it made up for in furnishings. New furniture, quaint society, and the location well-connected to most hotspots in the city, I never really thought I’d ever feel the lack of anything here. Except I did. I should’ve known there was something wrong with my flatmate very early on, but maybe I just wasn’t invested enough to care. Our ‘initial bonding’ began with us sharing a smoke and ta
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