Gratitude

Gratitude

I’ve been sitting in the exact same spot, trying to come up with something solid to post about. And I’ve been drawing blanks. I’m supposed to talk about gratitude today, and to be honest, it’s overwhelmingly hard. I’m sure Jamie/Shih Tzu is going to do wonderfully well today, he’s brilliant with his stories, but what do I talk about? Yikes. It’s also World Health day today, and I wanted to talk about stuff.

So the LOML (I’m trying to be fancy because I don’t wanna say Bear’s name) picked the word of the day. And the first thing that comes to my mind when I actually think about it? Him. I know I’ve ranted a lot on my blog, and will continue to do so, but if I’d to be thankful and grateful for something, it would have to be him. All the fiction that’s loosely based on real events aside, he’s my truth and he’s amazing. How many times have we taken the time to be actually thankful and feel blessed to be given all that we’ve been given? Not many. We mostly all just complain and compare and feel the need to drown ourselves in FOMO. Not cool, you guys.

Every time you feel bad, or wish you had a better life, you need to step back and remind yourself that there are people that wish they’d been in your shoes. Emilia Clarke had brain aneurysms but she never complained, and she’s one of the most successful actors of our time. If she’s never found reasons to be miserable, why should any of us be that way, right?

I’m thankful, honestly.

I could have died in that motorcycle accident in 2015: I didn’t. I’m okay, I’m doing great and everything is moving in the right direction. There’s no family feud, there’s no drama and there are no crunches. Done my share of traveling and spending time with my family. Made (and still making) memories. Went from being bratty to super nice and I feel myself evolving into a better person. Love front? Going great. Still paranoid about posting about it on the Gram, or on Twitter: can’t shake off the feeling that something bad might happen or someone might jinx it. Yikes. But I’m so grateful. You listen to the Ariana Grande songs about things and you realize that everything in your life has been a learning lesson. So yes, grateful.

What are you grateful for?

Are Reboots Better Than The OGs?

Are Reboots Better Than The OGs?

Netflix is doing great lately. It gave us Birdbox. And it gave us Stranger Things. It also gave us the Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, Dynasty, reboot and Charmed, reboot.

I grew up watching Sabrina the teenage witch. I mean, Melissa Joan Hart was adorable. Take a look at that hair! And aw, that face. She was bubbly and cute and everything rosy. But nobody realized what we were missing out onuntil the CAOS happened. And it was so good. Is so good.

It stars Kiernan Shipka as Sabrina, and boy oh boy, her acting skills are top notch. Although arguably a lot darker, the show is also a whole lot more gripping. While many people detested the show because of how satanic it seemed to be, and quit midway, most of us loved the show and cannot wait for the new season. The trailer that dropped a few days back looks promising and basically, just whoa. The bonus Christmas episode from 2018 was beautiful. Super nice.

Dynasty was a big hit in the eighties. The 2018 reboot is actually more interesting to me. Maybe that’s got something to do with my love for Liz Gillies but the girl can act. And sing. And the clothes are great, and the script is great, the cuts are crisp and Alexis is awesome (spoiler alert: even though she gets thrown into the fireplace in the latest episode of season two.) I’ve rarely loved a TV villain half as much as I’ve loved Nicolette Sheridan’s – remember her from Desperate Housewives? – portrayal of Alexis. The woman is as eye-conic as her eyelashes. Although Dame Joan Collins as Alexis was just as badass:

…I still like the newer cast better. For starters, I love the inclusivity and the tweaks here and there – for example, I love that Sammy Jo is a gay man in the reboot, that the Colbys are black, and that the new location is now Atlanta. Woot woot. Plus, I love the new Fallon. She’s PERFECT.

Which brings me to the last show I want to discuss – Charmed.

Okay, I loved the OG. I was obsessed. I mean, who doesn’t love Prue and Paige? Rose McGowan was a treat to watch.

The new show though, wow. They changed the names and the sexual orientation of one of the sisters. Which made me go, yaaaaaasssss girl, and I adore Macy. She’s brilliant and doesn’t wear over the top clothing and isn’t perfect, and has demon blood in her and oh my goodness, she’s brilliant. Swoon. Also Maggie as the empath is just so effing cute. Kind of don’t like Mel much but I love Jada because she’s so mysterious. Ah. You need to watch the show.

Clearly, all the reboots take the crown. In my opinion. Are you a fan of the OG or the reboots, in case you do watch any of these shows? Meanwhile, I cannot wait for the new episode of Charmed, this Sunday. The only sad part about these shows I watch would be the fact that they only air once a week. Argh.

Why Puddin’ Is Such A Feel-Good Book

Why Puddin’ Is Such A Feel-Good Book

The first actual physical book I read this year was Puddin’ by Julie Murphy. Right off the bat, I’m just going to go ahead and say it – it’s adorable. It’s weird when you use the word “adorable” to describe a book you’ve read, but hear me out, okay?

Looking good there, Ms. Murphy!

Warning: SPOILER ALERT!

Puddin’ has two protagonists – polar opposite characters called Millie and Callie. While Millie is an overweight, craft-obsessed, good Christian girl who refuses to say the “s” word and calls it bull-“doo doo” instead, Callie is the quintessential pretty girl, she’s on the dance team and she’s also Mexican.

The story starts off with Millie and her mum and their back and forth about her going to fat camp again, which she’s completely not okay with. She wants to secretly be a Journalist and take over the world.

The next thing we see is Callie’s dance team losing their sponsorship, which was supposed to come from Millie’s Uncle Vernon’s tiny gym. So Callie and her team vandalize the place because they’re so mad at having lost their potential Nationals dream. Millie identifies Callie on the CCTV, thanks to the signature necklace she sports. Callie, being a firm believer in sisterhood, refuses to divulge the names of the rest of the girls who were a part of the prank gone wrong, and ends up getting kicked off the dance team. Vernon doesn’t press charges but Callie is asked to work for free to raise the money lost in the vandalism.

After the few initial hiccups including the fact that Vernon’s wife, Inga, detests Callie, Millie and Callie becomes good friends. Since Callie has no friends left and she manages to hurt the reputation of the Shamrocks (the dance team she was formerly a part of), Millie introduces her to her little group of friends. Routine sleepovers become a thing and Millie is given enough confidence boosting by Callie to ask out the guy of her dreams – the only Indian boy at school, Malik. The story of how they fall in love, and their cutesy dates left me going awwww.

Meanwhile, there’s trouble in Callie’s love paradise, and she has a very banshee-screaming, loud, public breakup with her rich boyfriend, Bryce. A slightly overweight guy, Mitch, shows interest in her but she pushes him away because Mitch isn’t her type. We’ve all been there and pushed away people who were perfectly right for us because we felt like they weren’t our type at all. I know I have.

On her last day at the gym, Callie accidentally finds out that Millie was the one who’d told on her to the cops, and she feels betrayed because Millie never owned up and let her go hurt the Shamrocks instead. Their friendship ends. Temporarily.

But whatever is meant to be, will always be, and they become friends again. Millie’s journalism application is rejected but Callie takes her to Austin (AUSTIN OR BUST) and practically bully the director there to accept Millie’s application despite the fact that Millie isn’t the quintessentially skinny or the prefect newsreader types.

The Shamrocks get their funding too, from Bryce’s Dad and his car dealership ways. The ending of the book is super sweet – the girls are all sitting together and enjoying a pool party with their boyfriends, before Millie leaves for the summer program in Austin. She’s also totally twinning with Callie in their retro swimsuits. Go, girls!

The book is filled with beautiful one liners you could either put on a tee or use as a bumper sticker. My favorite?

“Love is in the details.”

And this one too:

I also realize the power of a red lipstick and I’m picking myself up a Revlon Certainly Red 740, the shade Mrs. Bradley (Callie’s Mama) wears. Love comes and goes, but lipstick is forever, you know?

What A Time To Be Alive

What A Time To Be Alive

I mean, seriously.

There’s been a lot of hype on Instagram surrounding this post:

And of course it has quickly surpassed the most liked photo on Instagram – of Kylie Jenner’s baby Stormi. And the likes just keep growing. The #EggGang seems to be going strong, y’all. Considering that this account is barely ten days old.

Like I said, what a time to be alive.

This actually compels me to say something – 2019 is galloping by like a wild Appaloosa on crack. It’s already the fourteenth of January, like what the heck? Slow down. Also, have you guys looked at the articles online about the world ending on January 21st this year?

To quote a paragraph from this article I found on Express:

The upcoming total lunar eclipse, often dubbed the , will paint the skies a menacing red colour over vast swathes of North and South America, Europe and parts of Africa. The Blood Moon is expected to peak on the night of January 21, 2019, marking the second anniversary of President Donald Trump’s inauguration. Biblical conspiracy theorists have now claimed the coincidental date is significant, with some going as far as to claim the world is coming to an end. Chief conspiracist, Evangelical Pastor Paul Begley from West Lafayette in Indiana, warned his followers the Blood Moon is a prophetic sign of the “end times”.

Uh oh. And watching creepy shows aren’t helping me at this point, but I still do it.

Also, I just realized that the past never truly gets swept under the rug. There’s a Bollywood star called Ranveer Singh who made a rather tasteless comment while sharing the couch with his costar Anushka Sharma, on this talk show called Koffee with Karan. Not only does the deliberate spelling mistake make me mad, it doesn’t help Karan Johar’s case at all. To me, he’s a hypocrite who says everything should be all about empowerment while doing nothing to enforce whatever he says. He’s also the same man that coined the catchphrase, “Nepotism Rocks!”, in addition to being a complete headache that encourages all sorts of douchebaggery on National Television.

Both actors are now married to other people (duh), but this video from 2011 that surfaced recently, doesn’t make Ranveer Singh look good at all. Take a look:

https://www.google.co.in/amp/s/www.indiatoday.in/amp/movies/celebrities/story/old-video-of-ranveer-asking-anushka-if-she-wants-her-a-pinched-goes-viral-internet-roasts-singh-1429478-2019-01-12

We idolize the wrong people, really. Recently two of the key players on the Indian Cricket Team were sent home because of sexist comments they made on the SAME show. Like, can we cancel the show already? How is it still getting a huge audience?

I blame the newspapers. The magazines. The media, in general. Indian media is the worst. I’ve never seen one nice thing in the newspapers. The only thing people actually highlight all the time is bad news. Every agency running the show is biased and close-minded in their own ways, and it just keeps getting worse. Nobody needed to know what designers celebrities wear to award shows or who got married to whom recently. Even if they did need to know, the media coverage shouldn’t be focused on the extravaganza. Somebody please get us a newspaper that doesn’t post page three stuff on page one. I’m going mental.

Or at least, have some positive news printed on the front page. How much negativity do y’all want us to start our mornings with?

Romanticizing The Morbid

Romanticizing The Morbid

Sabhyata (@palletesandpaint on Instagram) recommended this show to me. I’d thought that Gillian Flynn’s Amy Dunne was the coldest of the lot. Turns out, I was wrong.

What show am I talking about? Read on to find out.

We’ve all seen Gone Girl or read the book, and we’ve all been weirdly fascinated by the way Gillian Flynn’s mind works. She writes some of the best psychological crime thrillers in my opinion. I had no idea that Caroline Kepnes managed to create a protagonist – or an anti-hero, if you will – quite as fascinating as Joe Goldberg, and he’s clever and calculating and obsessive and I love the way Kepnes portrays him.

Joe Goldberg first makes an appearance in the 2015 novel, You. It’s now a Netflix show, same name, and there’s a season two coming. Oh JOY.

The reason why I found Goldberg so appealing was the fact that he comes across as a harmless bookstore manager. How crazy would a bookstore manager be, right? WRONG. He’s Internet-savvy, and can work Google like a pro. Also, he’s read every book out there and *spoiler alert* knows how to dispose of most evidence. Also, his stalking skills are crazy. It’s kind of chilling, you know? How far a person would go to get the woman of his dreams, whom he ultimately ends up killing. At least Amy Dunne let Nick live. Shudder.

Things people say they do in the name of love.

Now, is the show any good? And is it different from the book?

Well, yes and yes.

I made the mistake of watching the show first and then reading both You and the sequel, Hidden Bodies. It should have been the other way round, just so I could compare better. It’s kind of different from the book, because the producers of the show decided to bring Joe’s ex back. Candace doesn’t make a comeback in the book. Which means that the sequel is going to be way different from Hidden Bodies. Ugh. Now I’ll have to wait for ever to find out what’s going on.

How good is Penn Badgley’s portrayal of Joe Goldberg? On point.

Joe is a completely different character than his portrayal of Gossip Girl’s Dan Humphrey. Sure that character was shady and everything, but it feels like a completely different person. You couldn’t tell this was the same actor. The manic, crazed look in his eyes. The brooding demeanor. Oh my. Everything is perfect.

Apparently the character is so crazy and evil and sinister and all of that, that Badgley was super hesitant to play the role initially.

Left: Goldberg. Right: Humphrey.

I know a few people that happened to get so freaked out after watching the show that they had to go look at puppy videos. I’m not kidding. If you’re someone that’s sensitive and cannot stomach morbid stories, maybe stay away. Someone sent me this meme the other day, which sums up just about everything:

Did you watch this show? Or read the books? Any new Netflix recommendations are welcome. Hope your 2019 is going great.

On Personal Growth

On Personal Growth

If you’ve been reading my blogs for a while now, you’ll probably know that it’s been quite the rocky road. I used to write for an audience once, and then, somewhere along the way, this space became more of a journal than an actual blog. And I’ve had a lot of support from a ton of really nice people. It’s true, you know: people out there are actually nice. You don’t have to lose faith in humanity, just yet.

But I’m going to contradict myself for a second there.

I’ve seen a lot of messed up crap happen over the past year. And all of that had something do with social media. Plagiarism. Defamation. Lawsuits, even. We’ve all seen the rise of social media influencers, and we’ve all seen the so-called “drama channels” on YouTube gain a huge popularity quite out of the blue. People failed to give credit where credit was due. Still do, in fact. That’s a whole different story and it doesn’t really affect me directly anymore because I’m not an influencer or anything, and I’ve certainly never made any profit at the cost of hurting people, but it gets my goat because I have friends whose full-time jobs happen to be on social media and it’s really frustrating to see other people take credit for everything they do.

Also, there’s this other thing that makes me upset – fair-weather friends still exist. I mean, it’s almost 2019. Do you still have to pretend to be my best friend and then exclude me from your circle, because you couldn’t afford to let me in, while at the SAME time, you couldn’t afford to lose me since you needed to get your stuff done? I mean, you can actually find people you genuinely like. Or, maybe hire an assistant to be your yes-man. How hard is that?

Back to what I wanted to talk about – 2018 has been a really, really illuminating (for the lack of a better word) year for me. It’s like one morning I woke up, and I realized that I was actually at peace with myself. That’s super rare, you know? Nothing seems to faze me out for a long time anymore. It’s like sadness is only momentary and lasts for about a few seconds. These days, I’m more like okay, done and dusted, let’s move on. I remember my Dad telling me once that as you grow older and everything, professional jealousy becomes a thing and you lose friends faster than you lose hair. Turns out, he was right. The smaller your circle is, the healthier your mind would be. You don’t need other people’s luggage in your lives. You can have friends, sure, but when you add the prefix “close-” in front of the “friends”, that’s when trouble happens.

I feel like I’m finally at peace with myself. I barely have friends, and I’m happy with whatever is going on, and I’ve – most importantly – learned to forgive myself. It took me three whole years and a bumpy road to self discovery but here I am, finally free and happy. And that’s what matters the most to me. Sure, there are hiccups. Not everyday is going to be all roses and sunshine. Not everyone is going to be okay with what I’m doing, BUT I’m content and I don’t think I’ll be ranting about my life anymore. I don’t have FOMO. I have JOMO, yes. The Joy Of Missing Out is a new thing I’m trying and you should too. Don’t let other people tell you your life is miserable, and don’t let people throw you pity parties.

#selfloveachieved

2019 will be Nirvana, done and done. Watch me.

WTF Wednesday- Teasing

WTF Wednesday- Teasing

I’ve talked about this before and I know my posts do tend to get slightly repetitive at times, but I wanted to address this issue.

Without beating about the bush too much, I’m gonna get straight to the point.

We all do relationships and we all have our own hits and misses, and sometimes we overlook deal-breakers because we love our partners way too much. Now, I’m not the most sensitive person in the world – if I were to describe myself, I’d say I have the sensitivity of a slightly blunt knife. Haha. Jokes apart, I don’t really have that many deal-breakers, but I do have this one thing that I hate. Actually, two things: infidelity and cruel jokes.

I’ve had my share of cruel jokes, fam. Life has played one too many on me. And I don’t like being the butt of the same repetitive jokes when I’m in love with someone who claims to love me back.

What does saying sorry way too many times justify? NOTHING. You may be apologizing profusely one second but then you go back and do the same thing all over again? That’s bad. That’s basically just mean. I know this is a silly thing to be going rather ranty about BUT hear me out okay? You compromise too much in a relationship – you don’t mind if you don’t get calls, or if they don’t wish you good morning. You don’t mind going days without seeing each other because you console yourself that they’re busy and working really hard. You wait to talk to them. And they call you at their own leisure and they make fun of you over what you’re wearing and how you look like and they say one of those hey I don’t mean any of these stupid things I say because I don’t mean any of them.

Like wow. And I’m so proud of you, love, b ’cause you probably didn’t even mean it when you said you loved me.

Stupid love.

Book Review: Turtles All The Way Down, John Green

Book Review: Turtles All The Way Down, John Green

Text message:

Him: And the thing is, when you lose someone, you realize you’ll eventually lose everyone.

John Green is pure genius. The thing about every story he does is how easily you find yourself being able to relate completely. Everyone does love stories but what makes each book of John Green’s so unique is the fact that besides being a master storyteller, his love stories are unconventional.

The last book he did was The Fault in Our Stars, way back in 2012. Which we all loved. And the movie was great.

Turtles All the Way Down came out in October 2017 and while I’m a lot late to the party, I’m glad I read this book. John Green does some of the most brilliant one liners. Some of the most intense too. In the whole world.

Every protagonist of his, ever, always seem like real people with real issues.

The protagonist in Turtles, Aza Holmes, is no different. She’s rather real and despite the fact that she’s battling some form of obsessive compulsive disorder, she’s also relatable. Just quickly, without giving away too much – Turtles is the story of a sixteen year old who lives with her high school math teacher Mum, drives her late Dad’s car which she’s lovingly christened Harold and sees a therapist called Dr. Karen Singh regularly. Her two friends Daisy and Mychal – a vibrant girl who does Star Wars fanfic, and an artist who looks like a “giant hot baby, if Beyoncé and Drake had a baby” respectively – are beautifully executed characters too. The contrast between Daisy and Aza is so stark and it’s almost like one acts like the Ying to the other’s Yang. Two halves of a whole and that’s some amazing female friendship come alive in fiction.

The plot takes off from the time a local billionaire construction mogul named Russell Pickett goes missing. Daisy who’s drawn to the whole idea of getting rich quick from the $100,000 reward for information leading to the man’s arrest, insists that Aza join in on her investigation. This leads to a rekindling between Aza and Pickett’s older son Davis who she met at “Sad Camp” when they each lost a parent. And just so, a very unconventional romance that I talked about earlier, blossoms. Aza battles with her anxiety and her phobia of the human microbiome, and this makes it difficult for them both to carry on. There’s this line from the book –

Illness is a story told in the past tense.

And I don’t know why, but it spoke to me.

Aza has some of the best lines – she talks of being at peace, however momentary it may be, with Davis and she talks of a “non-sensorial place almost like we were inside the others consciousness a closeness that real life with its real bodies could never match,” after a FaceTime call with Davis.

Davis has some of the cutest moments and it’s super nice when he texts Aza I like us for real. Kind of makes me wish I had someone like that; but whatever.

I kind of feel like I might give away the whole story if I keep at this. But one last thing: where did the turtles bit come from? So Daisy tells Aza a story of a scientist and who is telling a class about the earth. And one old lady at the back corrects the scientist and says that the earth is balanced on the back of a giant turtle. The scientist asks her if she knows what the said turtle is standing on. The lady replies that it’s actually another turtle: and at this point the scientist gets super frustrated but the lady says that it’s turtles standing on one another and it’s turtles all the way down.

And there you have it, folks. I’m gonna end with another quote from the book because Mr. Green’s one liners are something to obsess over completely.

No one ever says goodbye unless they wanna see you again.

Have y’all read this book? Will you watch the movie? Let me know!

The DLG Syndrome

The DLG Syndrome

I know. It doesn’t exist. Why? Because, uh, I just made it up! So Paul did a post on things he keeps (drop everything and go read his post now – right now) and I thought it was such a brilliant idea to write about. Of course, I could have just left a long ass comment on his post but heh heh, I like my two seconds in the limelight like a complete sucker for fame. Who am I kidding again? LilRant isn’t Lil Wayne. I ain’t famous. I might be an ignoramus, but that’s about it.

And enough with the digressing. Why am I like this? I swear I ask myself that a million times a day. Ugh. Moving on.

I keep… things. Besides the usual secrets and stuff. I do keep things. I have what I call the DLG (difficulty letting go) syndrome. I have severe separation anxiety when I have to let go. I just can’t. I agree with Paul when he says we don’t part with books, and I have books from 1994 when I was a toddler learning to draw. I have many, many Enid Blyton books from 1997 – and my first Harry Potter book from ’98. I was so obsessed with it. I don’t remember how long it took me to read that but I remember not letting my dad read it to me because I wanted to read it all on my own. Wow I was bloody innocent back then.

I think my mother has issues letting go too, because she has millions of magazines stacked away in the basement – monthly cooking magazine subscriptions she’s never read or leafed through once (and never tried making any of the dishes listed), old knitting magazines from Jesus knows when, and oh my God, she has a giant cardigan from 1970 when she was a child herself. Surprisingly, no moths have eaten it because it’s hideous and old and ugly. MOM!

My Dad has his textbooks from his residency days. His old journals. His 1986 Vespa. He won’t let go. Okay the problem runs in the family. Although, I understand the attachment to the Vespa. He took a really adorable photo of one year old me, fat cheeks and all, sitting on it. Good times. Good, irritable colicky baby times.

Okay. What else do I keep?

Aha. I have jeans from middle school. When I was obese and basically had no waist. I like to look at them and smirk because I have a waist now. BOO YEAH! I have a windbreaker from 2000 because it’s comfy and I still wear it. Don’t judge me. I have scrapbooks with way too many photos of English soccer player Michael Owen and Australian cricketer Brett Lee. I have journals from the time I was 12 and discovered the joy of writing.

I keep the checks from places I go have lunch or dinner at. I have movie ticket stubs from way back when BookMyShow wasn’t as popular. I have bus tickets from all the times I ran to Bangalore to meet my then boyfriend. 2010, 11, 13. Sigh. I have a dried up rose and chocolate wrappers from the times the said ex boyfriend bought me those. No particular reason. I’m not attached. But maybe I need to throw them out. Hold while I declutter. This is bloody unhealthy.

I have expired makeup. Oh God. I’m looking through my drawers and I have expired mascara. Like, 6 of them. Yikes. I have eyeshadow palettes from 2012 – oh no. I don’t even use them and I still have them. In my defence, no one in India sold makeup from Urban Decay and Stila. There were no Sephoras and I had to beg my best friend to get me makeup when he went home to London. Poor me. Nope, not getting rid of these guys.

I have tickets from the Poets of the Fall concert I went to in August 2015. I even blogged about it and I have the stubs in my wallet. I carry them around like a talisman. *hides face*

I have – erm – a collection of 52 Barbie dolls, showing varying degrees of shabbiness but most of them still have their boxes. Ehehe oh, and I have stuffed animals stuffed away in some corner of the basement because I can’t seem to part with them. I have a box of handwritten letters from the time I had a pen pal. I have old cards – new year and birthdays and stuff. I have, erm, expired perfume. What am I doing with my life!? I have way too much stationery I don’t need and don’t use. I have my broken laptop because I am attached to it. Now I have a new one but I can’t throw away my old one. Sigh. I have a problem.

I could go on.

But I’m gonna go start decluttering now. What do YOU keep?!

Weird Compulsions

Weird Compulsions

The other day one of my favorite beauty bloggers tweeted something and it got me thinking about how right she was. We’ve all become so… accessible.

It is such a weird compulsion.

This whole thing – how when someone texts or calls, you gotta respond immediately or they end up thinking, “Oh she is such a bitch!” – is kind of sad. How we always seek validation, and we don’t even know we’re doing it. It’s nuts. When did it get like this? I like my alone time and it doesn’t mean I’m doing stupid shit. I don’t like being in situations where I’ve to give people an update on everything I’m doing. I mean, come on, even FACEBOOK isn’t as inquisitive as some people are! Like what’s with people texting constantly when you’re out with family? If you don’t respond immediately, you get texts that say – “Whoa who am I now? Nothing. Just time pass. I know you’re getting married and shopping for your lehenga!”

!!!!!!!!!

I actually know one such person. Super cute and super insecure. How do you deal with that? If you know someone that gets severe separation anxiety from not getting texts back? You ignore them and then you calm yourself down and then you text them back. Right? Wrong. You’ll find yourself the victim of this weird compulsion and composing a reply and sending it anyway. Gah. This makes me so mad. Why must we stay and please every freaking person??! Does it really matter if people think you’re rude as fuck and that you use them and that you aren’t a good person? If you don’t get back to them immediately? NO. It doesn’t.

What’s worse is we know this. And we still let it bother us and we let ourselves stay accessible. UGH. This makes me so mad.

I made a new resolution: I’m gonna stop thinking about what people say about me if I don’t reply. If I don’t take calls. And I’m going to give myself more time and work on being a better person. It’s not necessary to talk everyday. It’s not. If you have a mature relationship with your people, they’ll get you. And that’s how it should be.

Are you a victim of weird compulsion too? Let me know.