Miss Dispensable’s dump site.

These words I want to leave here to save myself from thinking them, saying them and playing them in my head.

My house, my home, my hollow, my hole.
And I thought I was okay
but it takes just one song to make it all turn around.

Unknown Artist – Untitled Track

It’s a song of no significance actually, just that the last time I heard
it I was holding someone close to me. Singing.
These are moments that may not be very long or intense as the present
but as memories they are as potent as home made wine
from Noon wine, Church Street, Bangalore.

There are not too many memories of all of you.
There is no face that I picture when I think of you.

You , and you and then you.
There are no memories of your touch.
But there are
and it hurts to be alone again.

Is there something I do to be like this repeatedly?
I know good things happen to good people, I've said it
enough to believe it, but I don't know if I'm one of those people

Because at the end of it all, I’m alone in this city with very few people
I can call at 2am in the night.

Its not about a ear, or a shoulder, or company.
Its not about a particular man anymore. Or my parents. Or my friends.
Its just… everything, me, the time of the day,
The door, the music, the food, the climate, love, life, everything.

I don't know what I feel when I cry anymore.
I cry. Its an all absorbing activity, all senses surrendering to the sovereignty of the pain.
I cry missing someone to hold, sometimes thinking of happiness, sometimes thinking of nothing, sometimes listening to other people's stories, sometimes because everything is so beautiful and painful like a movie, like a walk in the park, like a lake.

I'm difficult to like me. I understand. But why?
Every time I look in the mirror, I see a girl, who doesn’t really look harmful, but there are
so many words that make me question that belief. What is it that I do?

What makes me so dispensable?

Each one to their own happiness…

Dream on. Dream on. Dream on. Dream on. Dream on. Dream on.
Dream on. Dream on. Dream on. Dream on. Dream on. Dream on.
d.r.e.a.m. u.n.t.i.l. y.o.u.r. d.r.e.a.m. c.o.m.e.s. t.r.u.e.

what about mine?

Dream on – Aerosmith.