Now THIS is a blog.

Do you love it or do you love it?
Ok, you gotta love it all right, cuz I'm not really feeling the love anymore from this blog right here. And how unfortunate would it be if I STOPPED BLOGGING ALTOGETHER? I'd probably start having nervous breakdowns at regular intervals due to all the verbal and emotional hoarding I'd do, like you KNOW I would. And THEN what will happen to me? I'll be in KMH before my seventeenth birthday. Now THAT'S an achievement.

Pointless. SO POINTLESS. Why am I even trying to blog now? I don't have to. I don't even have anything to say. Except that I watched SATC and almost cried and contemplated even more about relationships of the amorous variety, and thought about having a daughter just so that I may have a best friend who by nature is connected to me and can't escape from me, however much I may suck and piss her off and embarrass her. What a convenience, motherhood! I wrote this for my daughter -

Be broken Be crude
Be mean Be rude
Be loud Be sound
Be kind Benign
Be brave Be strong
Be happy Be sad
Be angry Be mad
Be hot Be cold
Be young Be old
Be lost Be found
Be gone Be around
Be me Be you
Stay free Love true

On 10th June. It was a good day. I tied the purple silk string around my hand that day, signifying a change in me, a form of release. It's hard to explain, but it's about being true and free.
{Several years have now elapsed since I first became aware that I had accepted, even from my youth, many false opinions for true, and that consequently what I afterward based on such principles was highly doubtful; and from that time I was convinced of the necessity of undertaking once in my life to rid myself of all the opinions I had adopted, and of commencing anew the work of building from the foundation...

– René Descartes , Meditation I, 1641}

That was in the morning. At school we were doing Ruskin Bond in English, and though I'm not really a fan, it kinda struck a cord with me on account of the freedom thing. We're never completely free, you know? Hazarding my sounding cliched and misunderstood, I think from the moment we're born, we slowly cease to be free. Unbeknown to us we set ourselves barriers; mental, physical, emotional. We can never truly be free, at least while we're here. That's what dying is for.

So I finished watching the movie and was thinking about love and my daughter, and I felt like writing something for her. She was in my last thoughts before I fell asleep; I wanted her to stay free and love true. Just like I will, some day. And that day we both shall celebrate, singing and laughing with each other. I love my daughter (=