the textual siege.

i'm sitting here, unshowered, still in the same clothes i gave no thought to throwing on more than 12 hours ago, with a 2000 word essay to write which i know will take forever because i want the words to be just so.

these days, i'm hesitating a lot, hurrying a lot, sighing a lot, thinking a lot, worrying a lot, frowning a lot, setting my mouth in a thin line of determination a lot, questioning a lot and wishing a lot.

i just came from visiting a blog of a girl badly scalded by love. as discussed by my friends and i, she is probably in this state because she chose to ignore the glaring warning signs. but i think, she's the way she is today, heart scarred over by the lesions and keloids from the perils of loving with all she had. and i thought that i'd very possibly never end up this way because of the way i love.

it is in careful, measured stops and starts, never in generous shovel-fuls or tractor-fuls but in teaspoons. strange analogy, but much like fagin doling out a pathetic amount of gruel to oliver twist, punishing him when he timidly asks for more. this is obviously because i'm afraid of getting burnt but more so for fear of losing a sense of self and not knowing the full capacity of my heart to love. sometimes, i do wish i could give more.

all i want to do is turn on the tv but mute it, curl up in bed with the sept bumper issue of vogue, lose myself in another world i will never inhabit, surrounded by my four plump pillows creating a fortress around my physical self while the metaphysical one drifts away.

not knowing where, how and with whom i'd be spending this weekend, is on my mind more than i'd like to admit.