The Sadistic Dad Monologues

The Sadistic Dad Monologues

“You’re crap.

No wait, you’re LOOSE crap.

You’re dumb.

You’re a waste of space.

You’re numb.

You’re flakier than breadcrumbs.

How long do I have to support you?

How long will you make me fend for you?

How long will I mend things for you?

Shut up and get to work.

Talking to you is so hard.

You never do what your mother and I want.

Talking to you is like talking to a corpse.

You’re just getting worse.

I wish you were never born.

I wish I could have killed you when you were young.

I wish I never spent a penny on you.

You’re just an investment gone wrong.

You’re brown trash and you only ever take and you take and you play your songs.

You’re filthy.

You’re vile.

You’re disgusting.

You’re as bitter as bile.

I wish you were dead.

And if you’re dying go kill yourself outside instead.”

This isn’t fiction. I’ve seen Dads treat their daughters this way. It’s bad enough to have dreams thrust upon a girl, and to have to deal with abuse isn’t something anyone has to go through. It’s a sin.

Everyday, I see kids with bruises, something their Dads gave them earlier – because the kid failed at math, or because the dad was drunk. Everyday I see a girl cry and have her dreams crushed because she has to live her parents’ dreams and doing something else would bring shame on the family. Marrying for love? Oh my. More shame.

When will this country change?

I’m thankful that it’s not the scene in every family, and that some of us have supportive parents but I wish these girls could live happy and not have to cry because they were born female. Having said that, I need to say I love you, Dad. Thanks for not being like this.

Just birthing a child doesn’t make you a Dad or a Mum. It just makes you a procreator. What makes you an actual parent is how human you act around your children. When you become a parent, please don’t be this way.

Good day, folks.

Things A 19 Year Old Taught Me

Things A 19 Year Old Taught Me

You know, sometimes you just meet people on the Internet and you take in their personality, and you think to yourself – “Bloody hell, what an amazing soul! Wish I was more like that!”

So I met Sabhyata, a design student, on Instagram, a couple months back. If you know me at all, you’d know that I never really talk about people unless I happen to admire/love/hate them in some way. And Sabhyata, she’s taught me a lot over the past couple of months. And I’m grateful. This post is by no means a promotion of ass-kissery (is that a word?) but a genuine appreciation for a beautiful person and something very different from all the ranting I normally do.

Today, I’m going to be raving.

So, who’s Sabhyata and why should you be following her on Instagram?

• She’s organized, in a different way.

Take this nineteen year old self-taught makeup lover, who posts crisp new content everyday, every single damn day. And that’s no mean feat because she’s got school, her chores, AND her feed to keep her busy and she manages everything so flawlessly it’s like she’s almost superhuman. She’s taught me how to manage my time better.

• She’s down to earth.

When you’re growing at the speed she’s growing, the attention gets to your head. The success gets to your head. Not for Sabhyata. I was watching her Instagram live and one thing she said touched my heart so much. Someone had asked her how it felt like, to have such a good number of followers in less than a year to which she replied – “Doesn’t matter whether I have 13 k or 100 k people following me, it’ll always be you guys watching me live at 2 in the morning, and I’ll still be like this.”

Again, this girl is only nineteen. Most teenagers don’t treat other people with the amount of love she does. And she doesn’t over do it either.

Also, she responds to every question. Doesn’t send a ♥️ emoji when someone slides into her DM with legit compliments and questions, and she’s always going to take time to hold an actual decent conversation with people.

She’s taught me to have my feet planted firmly on the ground.

• Friendship.

I talked about competition the other day. Sabhyata is her own competition, biggest critic and she’s everyone’s friend. One of my favorite one liners – “You’re my friend and I won’t ever respect you. Ahah. Why would I? We’re the same. And even if you get a Nobel prize, I’ll still have you as my friend who I’ll love. Not go on and say ah I respect you.”

Total gem, you guys. Total gem.

• Quality over Quantity.

Let’s talk about how professional she is. She learns as she grows and she posts content that’s super high quality too. I guess this is where blessing your feed originated from.

If you’re into makeup and you want to know why I’ve been fangirling so much go give her a follow @palletesandpaint on Instagram.

Can We Chill With The Competition?

Can We Chill With The Competition?

What’s wrong with people? I mean seriously? Kris Jenner is single handedly causing population explosion, and with a million kids and a billion grandkids to boot, the crazy seems to be overflowing.

It’s not just them, though. It’s the whole planet.

Once upon a happier time, competition meant two little kids battling it out on opposing debate teams. But now? It’s something unhealthy, twisted, heck, it’s evil.

Between making frenzied google searches for things like “how to make someone love you back” and “how to tell if someone’s no longer into you” and “latest trends 2018”, I chanced upon this: nipple injections. Fillers, or whatever the crap. And I’m not kidding people, this is an actual Allure magazine article.

…competing against Kendall Jenner’s nipples. Now I’ve seen everything. Really. 2018 is the year of the bat-shit crazy and it’s here to stay. Sigh. I miss the times when we were all actually happy. Millennials aren’t happy, people. We always want something else. We crave, we crave, we compete unnecessarily and we give ourselves enough aneurysms to keep the rest of the doctors happy.

Between DMs that go something like this

to women treating their boyfriends like pieces of vintage Louis Vuitton luggage, I’m so done. All I want right now, is for me to be able to dump everything and just get away to a cosy little place with no people and no cell phone reception.

Can we please do that? Thanks.

Nipple fillers. God!

Does Money Solve Things?

Does Money Solve Things?

Isn’t it crazy? The number of times we use “I” in a day? Subconsciously, we’re only constantly thinking of ourselves. Our lives, jobs, waistline, first-world issues like a broken fingernail.

Ever stopped to wonder what was going on with the rest of the world? Heck, ever wondered what was going on with the rest of your neighborhood? I’ve noticed a pattern. People are SO quick to be empathetic when a celebrity falls sick. Or when a celebrity gets slapped behind bars. I’m talking about Salman Khan, of course. He’s killed people and he’s poached blackbucks and he’s managed to get acquitted and now he’s managed to get bail.

Which makes me wonder – is money all that powerful?

At this rate, people would end up buying college degrees and have no knowledge about a thing at all. People would pay off income tax officers and exemptions from paying how much tax they should actually be paying. It’s scary that things like unfair justice can be bought these days. Oh wait, they’re already doing that. I mean, do people not have integrity anymore?

Maybe that’s why there’s a steep decline in actual, solid relationships and a steady incline in the sugar daddy situation. He pays for your crap and makes you Paris Hilton and you get to be the Kim Kardashian to his very much older Ray J. I don’t even know what’s up with me this morning. Maybe this is why I should stop reading the newspaper. It’s making kids believe that money can solve every which problem and that’s why they’re resorting to stupid headless ideas just to make money.

I saw this girl ask if she can sell her body to her ex boyfriend for allowance since her parents don’t give her money. Is this even normal? Or is this prostitution? Can anyone explain? Do people not realize that the more you yearn for, the worse it gets? Other people get jealous, and it leads to more problems than one can ever handle. I don’t think money really solves all problems. It just makes you nastier. But that’s just my opinion. It’s okay to be financially comfortable on your own terms. NOT okay to use it to exploit others.

I’m done with this country. Time to leave. I’ll be back with a nice post tomorrow, I swear. It won’t be so morbid. Have a good day, you guys.

Confessions of a Loner, Again

Confessions of a Loner, Again

I’m a loner. I’ve always been. At some point, it started to feel like routine. I mean, even Voldemort has his Death Eaters. So he wasn’t really completely alone; but I don’t even have anyone. Emotionally. I mean, it’s not like I don’t wish for people to come talk to me: it’s just that I’ve gotten used to the whole idea of being on my own so much that I’m okay with being alone and lonely. And I don’t even tell my partner about it.

Not that I haven’t tried – because I have. But you know how it gets, yeah? You don’t want to annoy the other person and you end up bottling things. So what I do instead is come on here and blog and let it out. Therapy is pricey – I can buy some new eyelashes with that money – but blogging is free and I get to get things off my chest, so yes, I like to rant on here.

I pretend that I’m happy. Actually, I’m not. I don’t feel anything anymore. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this way: completely empty, neutral, almost lifeless. Going through my daily schedule like a robot in rhythm. But I’ve learned a lot over the past couple of years. No one is going to be there for you. Not even the person you get married to. It’s you that’s always got your back so each time you feel completely alone, you’ve gotta remember that you have your arms to give yourself a hug. I know that’s probably the most morbid thing your heard all day, but I actually do this on a daily basis.

When I was a little girl, I had dreams too.

I wanted to have a fairytale wedding and all the cliches that came with it. A perfect husband who loved me, treated me like a freaking princess and got me whatever I wanted – all I had to do was drop subtle hints. But then life happened and I realized that none of that matters. No one is going to listen to your subtle hints. You’ve to get yourself what you want. It’s almost wrong to depend on someone else. Even once in a while. And forget about being treated like a princess. I’m happy with being treated like a human being. That’s more than just enough. Isn’t it funny how dreams die before you even realize they’re dead?

I’ve gotten really good at giving advice. I hate seeing other people unhappy because I can see myself reflected in them and that breaks my heart.

There were times when I used to be happy that I had people to text me and check on me: but now? I’m so comfort being on my own it scares my mum sometimes. I’m serious, if I had a choice and if cults weren’t creepy, I’d have joined some ashram, picked celibacy and turned into a yogi. I’d even give up lipstick. But I’d be at peace. No cellphone. Maybe I could just go away and try to drown. I’d feel nothing still. Just calm.

Why do I feel this way?

But I’m okay. This is just fiction and I’m okay.

Driving Lessons

Driving Lessons

Hello. Greetings from my hormonal, pimply self! How’s everyone doing today? I just fell down the stairs, shattered my favorite mug and nearly ended up losing a knee but I’m okay. So I’m stuck at home, with bum knee throbbing away to glory, feeling sad about my favorite mug and wondering what I’m supposed to be doing all day. Besides prepping for two new competitive exams, of course. Which, to be honest, we all know, I’m not going to crack anyway. So…

I thought it would be funny to go ahead and share a series of incidents that led to what we have today – a crappy driver named Sooch.

Let me just go ahead and say, it’s NOT my fault that I’m so bad at driving, okay? I’m sure my instructor is about seventy percent responsible. Twenty goes to the car I learned how to drive in, and the remaining ten? Completely ME. So it was a Maruti Suzuki Alto. Hold on, I’ve got to rephrase – it used to be an Alto, once upon a time. It was so beat up, it was barely recognizable. It belonged to a shady driving school (we have driving schools in India, which are so shady they’ll make you cringe and run for the hills) named Madan Mohan Driving School. How did I get hold of this person? Erm heh heh, contacts. My family’s driver. He was friends with the (we shall call him the MM Guy) person that owned this driving school and that’s how I got enrolled.

The first time I got into the driver’s seat at age 15, was the first time I found out that the poor Alto was in such bad shape, I had to physically lift the door to get it shut. Lift, pull shut. That was the mechanism. It took me three days to get used to that. MM Guy was a patient man who, equipped with his own set of ABC (accelerator, brake, clutch), was pretty sure I was going to get the hang of driving on the fourth day itself. NOT SO MUCH. I ran into a tree. I almost had the car topple over. I nearly broke the windshield. And that made me go whoa I’m a badass teenager. You should have seen MM Guy trying to control the car with his own ABC but uh uh, I was ruling.

Day five was brilliant. He tried to teach me how to get the car in reverse and I literally spun the whole thing around. Not too dramatically but how I wish I could have. I’ve never seen anyone with a sweatier, redder face than MM Guy’s on that fateful day. He would have put all the cherry tomatoes in my salad to shame. If you drive an automatic, you’re lucky because you won’t have to bother with the gear shifts. Me? Not so lucky. I now drive a Chevrolet Beat, which happens to be greener than a leprechaun’s hat, and is pretty nice to me BUT I still have issues.

So this whole driving fiasco went on for a month. I screamed, cried, scared quite a lot of people, bust a lot of tires, played a lot of Avril, ate a lot of fries, and got fat and still didn’t learn the fine art of fine driving.

I think MM Guy would have thrown me out had it not been for his extreme amount of patience. When did I finally get my license, you ask? Age 16, a couple months later. And what happened to my driving skills!? Still freaking questionable.

Was your driving lesson episode a fiasco too? Let me know!

10 Stupid Things Girls Do On Instagram

10 Stupid Things Girls Do On Instagram

Disclaimer: I’m not throwing shade, y’all, but all of this stuff actually does happen.

1. Sending random girls DMs and asking them for a shout out. This has happened to me like a million times. Random girls out of nowhere just act all nice and sweet and beg me to shout them out. Like, why?

2. Follow. Unfollow. Back and forth. Seriously? You don’t like me, don’t keep following and unfollowing. That ish is annoying.

3. Obsessively stalking other girls. Specially the ones they hate. Or are jealous of. It’s a whole different level. (I’m guilty of this one.)

4. Posting 372526151 pouty faced selfies. Like, their page has photos of them puckering away to Palestine. And nothing else. You’d think their orbicularis oris muscles were all shot in the head. Why TF do girls pout?!

5. Sending nude photos to people. Ugh. The only nude photos I ever show people happen to be of certain eyeshadow palettes.

6. Running giveaway accounts. Sure, everyone likes free stuff – but a giveaway account? That’s creepy.

7. Leaving horny comments on random hot guys’ photos. *cringe*

8. Trying to upstage other girls. And on a public forum too. Who cares what my eyebrows look like? I don’t. Why should you? Unless my brows were pricklier than a cactus and stabbing you in the eyes. Literally.

9. Having crappy content and expecting people to follow them. No.

10. Wrecking people’s relationships. This is the worst way to get attention. And these girls keep at it. Ugh.