Bia and I tried acting ghetto today.We were so bad at it=/.Come to think of it,we're so bad at everything=S.Perpetual misfits.We couldn't stop laughing in English when I wrote activates hunger on her arm and she wrote induces sleep on mine.I think the stuff you do that makes no sense to anyone but yourself is what actually creates a bond between two people.No one understands our humour,and when they do I feel violated.I'm so protective about everyone and everything I love,that its turning out to be one of the bad habits that never go away.And conciously turn up at the wrong time.Like when T and B were hanging out and talking,I felt so jealous.SO jealous.I wanted to rip something's head off.I hated sharing my friends with each other. They were mine to begin with,and the fact that I have to share them gets to me sometimes.(Mind you I said sometimes,I'm not psycho).But I love everyone (care about a few) and I think everyone deserves to be happy,owing to the lives we lead,so if sharing friends does that,let it be.I'll just make sure I'm not around...
I also taught Bia the most coolest word in British slang.Bollox.=D.BOLLOX.=D.She loves it too.
took us to heaven today=D.Namely the 20th International Bookfair at the Expo Centre today.I WAS.SO.LOST.
Its always been that way.Be it the school library,the public library,my Uncle's bookshelves..I always lost contact with the real (?) world when I was surrounded by books.Still haven't lost the habit:).And the fact that Expo is so HUGE (ooh its painted now!),added to the 'getting lost'ness.Stood in front of the building for like around 2 whole minutes..nostalgia slapping me in the face..anything you hold on to slips away..and it never comes back..so what do you do when you want to remember that one single word your flana friend said once upon a time ago in flani jaga with the flana guy roaming around that made you laugh so hard?Or when you want to retell an entire incident,but the words are all jumbled and the dialogues modified?Let's just say the books kept my mind off a lot of things..time that I always wanted to hold in my palm and come back home to keep it in my locked wali closet so that whenever I open it again,I clutch at my heartache.
And then I come home to find half of my downstairs furniture sitting in my garage,and it hits me for the first time that I'm leaving.To God knows where in this lovely weather that we're having.I go inside my semi-empty house,to sacred pictures that are last minute things to take over,to my computer and the table I'd been eating at since I was 5.My mother makes me chai (she senses the dreariness) and gives me a croissant (absolute favourite cheerer-upper) to munch on while I look glum and drown in self-pity.So many things happened here yaar bhai yaar...I came to here..in this very room..I cried in that corner there...my friends were all here..dancing,going crazy,eating 'chinese' stuff mom made..Fooki almost broke my neck in this room..(accidentally,people,my brother really does *ahem* love me)..My chai rots itself on the corner of the desk as all these incidents come to mind..
And then I open my orkut,(out of sheer habit,like every other person who lives and breathes Pakistani),and Dopey has written me a testimonial.
Mohamed: i love you. for being able to see good in other people. and me.
and i want my chummi NOW!!
Hahahahahahhahahahhahahahahahhahahhahahahhahah.Its enough to make me forget how hard all this has been on me.Thank you for everything,you indiscreet lover you=).