Reading Walking December

On my way home from the walk today, I saw a tree with leaves that reminded me of the giant leaves we plucked in Belgaum to serve food while playing kitchen-kitchen with the neighbor girls. Their food looked much tastier and healthier. And they even thought of things like pappads to make from white leaves, and beeda from green leaves with red veins. The leaf I recognized was used to serve other leaf-food in.

Finished reading Makenna Goodman’s The Shame which I think I read at a good time in my life, guilty only occasionally about my snail-slow pace. I don’t know if there’s such a thing as anti-baby literature but I think I am accumulating it smilingly 🙂

Work is mad but I am only realizing it because classes are over and the non teaching part of academic life is dancing on my head. I am a happier person when I teach and what’s nice is that I am barely aware of it. Woke up at 3:30 one morning this week and read till 7:00. Best morning. It took revenge a couple of days later but what joy to be with yourself that early in the morning with cool, blue silence.

This quote by Hannah Arendt returned me to reading with a fever. Made me think WTF am I doing when I am not reading?

The mere reading of a book requires some degree of isolation, of being protected against the presence of others.

Hannah Arendt

Very grateful to have found twitter in my late 20s. There is so little I want to undo and unsay in my 30s. Also – problematic, toxic, traumatic, overrated, ew, contradictory, cringe, binge, thirst, political political monkey monkey underpants. No thank you.

I read in the park these days. Read Maile Maloy this morning. Felt cheerful. The weather is perfect to read outdoors.

I have money plants growing out of wine and chai point bottles in my room now. The two avocado pits I planted earlier this year are growing tall on the terrace. I smile everytime I see them. I am using the same water bottle I did three years ago before which I had a red bottle of same build.

Birthday month was strange. I spent a lot of time inside my head and felt very distant from me. Made myself miserable and blamed it on the world. When I had enough, I took myself out and read like mad. Realized it’s the only thing I must keep doing to stop from going further in.

Looking forward to Alexander Chee and another round of Toni Morrison. Watched Rebecca, loved it. Watched a lot of TV and loved it more. I seem to have grown warmer to the idea that if I am wearing great clothes, nothing can undo me. Fashion is an answer, and sometimes a solution.

Through all the miserable points in my life from school, college, and work – I wish I had paid more attention to what I was wearing. May have even helped me own myself a little bit. N got me the bestest birthday gift. I was asking for self-respect, she got me a vibrator.

I thereby conclude that an orgasm is the best kind of self-respect.

Hee Hawww!

I cannot describe in too many words the elated feeling of ‘nothing-fucks-with-me-now’, when I hit the ‘publish’ button. It could have been happiness of a different world altogether if I could have hit the ‘publish’ button every day of the week. Maybe that can be my next challenge. But I am not complaining. There were days when I dreaded writing because I was too depressed to write. On one such occasion I discovered by accident, the joy of writing even as my mind was begging to shut off and sleep.

I was sulking, cursing and very depressed because of a love problem. I took a detour and started thinking about the last lake I saw. I had found my story idea – it was stupid and my mind kept rejecting it, partly because I was lazy, partly also because I wanted to open my journal and rant about love problems. I said screw you to both and wrote about the goddamn lake. Not my best, but it did make me believe that even on days that you want to curl up in bed with Dairy milk and Gilmore Girls and do nothing except wallow in self pity, you can still write.

I am not happy about most of my posts on the A- Z challenge but I am glad that some form of a writer is beginning to take over here. For the first time in months, I felt invulnerable. And it felt great. I haven’t felt like this in a long time.

It didn’t stay for long though because then I saw people and my invulnerability left me like color leaves my brother’s face when I hijack his room. It feels good to write every day though, even better when I don’t have to struggle for words. Having finished the challenge in over 2 months doesn’t exactly make me feel good about myself because this was supposed to be finished in 26 days. I am not even sure if I can write everyday now but I am writing more than I have ever written before and that is a happy thought. I also found that I can survive after having written and posted on the internet, bad poetry and short stories. I had to fight crazy urges to delete posts at all sorts of odd hours.

I am going to get me some wild drinks now because I feel splendidumdidum!