It feels as if we're incapable of having decent conversations. You have this penchant for swerving offcourse each time I talk about something that's pretty important to me. It makes me wonder if you even know what's going on in my head or what's up on my side of the planet. Makes me feel more detached, distant and misunderstood. Makes me questions all the things you say - how much you love me and all - and if they're true or just excuses to stop me from thinking the possible.

It isn't impossible now is it? I could be led around like a blind fool. My period just came. That could be the main reason for the snipishness and the nightmarish dream I had a couple of nights back. Also, why do I have to plan for so many things?

It's finally sunk in. Being home on a Saturday night. Suddenly asking me to go over when the last bus was but minutes/seconds away. My refusal and your disappointment. Tell me these things in future. Full moon up in the sky fucks up my temperament big time. I need to stop seeing everything with sentimental-tinted glasses and just classify everything as sexsexsex.

Suppose life would be a hell lot more easier to live in that way eh?

Labels: rant, theories, you