Improbable Letters 2.0

2012-03-10T21:03:00.002-08:00

have a letter addressed to you lying on my desk. it's perfectly banal, but i tore open the envelope nevertheless to check.

i guess i'm afraid for it to mean what i want it to mean.

so it'll just lie there. i don't think i can mail it. and i don't think i can burn it just yet, either.

meanwhile i'm reminded every day of your name, and where you are, and what i say (hi, hello, how are you) when i actually mean something else. Something deeper, more beautiful.

this reminds me of somebody i used to love. we'd talk after long intervals and instead of saying the things we had thought of saying to each other, we'd say hi.

we'd say hi.

...

N

excerpts, part one

2012-03-04T22:25:00.000-08:00

I keep most of the paper-chats I've had in school. I also have a box full of letters my grandfather received. He was a bit of letter-writer, but he wrote in urdu. Finally, I also have a few letters that I wrote but wasn't able to deliver. In excerpts, I'll be posting parts of these correspondences.

[from one of my Tayas i.e. father's oldest male cousin, to my grandfather]

16th Febrauary 1993

Dear Chacha mian

Adaab.

Here, the whole house is very happy about the daughter born to [my father]. Abba has told me to write a letter on his behalf, to give congratulations and to send prayers. Ammi's eyesight is too poor for her to write and Abba's hands shake. But he will write.

So, many many congratulations from all of us. Hana was saying, please do tell us the name. Give her a nice, new-ish name. Don't give her an old name. But this must have already happened by now.What was she named?

[...]

If [my father] likes, he can come here for sair, with bhabi and the daughter. Anyway the daughter is little right now so do think about that.

All right, Chacha mian, khuda hafiz.

Faqat,
T

It's totally surreal to read about your own birth.

this __________ life

2012-02-22T06:17:00.002-08:00

Ira Glass,

Yaar, I love you yaar. Where have you been all my life?

you should know

2012-02-21T04:19:00.000-08:00

Thought about mocking you. Refrained.

fair

2012-02-17T03:27:00.000-08:00

Are you fair? I would ask you. I think I need shakespeare. I miss shakespeare. I even miss Hamlet right now, even though I have a million problems with it.

Are you fair? I would ask you, in every sense of the world, and you would know everything that I mean and that I mean nothing (not that nothing!)

Are you fair? I would ask you. Lately I have realized that a lot of break-up stories have one thing in common: an unanticipated action on the part of a partner. Of course, how obvious, but think of it: people in relationships think (or thought) that they knew their partner. And one day the partner did something completely out of keeping with what might have been thought of as their normal behaviour. I suppose we can never hope to know the inner selves of even those closest to us. People change, too (do you believe that people change?). And so I would ask you if you are fair because...because what? I believe in justice more than love? No, I believe that love should be based on justice.

To be fair, I do not like the word justice or the word democracy. I do not believe that either can exist. But I find myself drawn to both and beginning to believe in them.

Finally, when I ask you if you are fair I shall be opening up the floor to be asked the question in return. I do not answer questions. I dodge, evade, sidestep, shrug, dismiss, avoid, excuse myself, walk away. I do my best to avoid lying but I do not talk about things unless I want to.

But I would talk to you, and try to answer the question as honestly as I can.

N

so, today

2012-02-14T00:12:00.000-08:00

Dear Astronaut Mike Dexter,

Happy valentine's day.

N

Dear Leslie Knope,

Happy galentine's day.

N

Dear dentists,

I still hate you all but thanks for the chutti, now I will nerd out watching/listening to podcasts. DAFUQ I TAKE A DAY OFF SCHOOL TO GAIN KNOWLEDGE? I just realized this.

N

2012-02-12T08:53:00.000-08:00

This is not a letter and perhaps that is why this is improbable.

It's just an observation.

Perhaps it's a letter to anyone who reads this.

No, it isn't. Not really.

But I was thinking that I would like to do sketches.

It's just that

I'm afraid the sketched will know I've sketched them, right?

I do my job well, at least I think I do, I do it well enough to satisfy myself.

And so the sketched would know I've sketched them.

That I've strung them into words.

Another thing I'm afraid of is doing my job badly.

So I can't win.

This isn't a poem. I wish I could write poetry any more, but I can't.

I said, I don't love anybody and I can't write poems.

So that went away.

Maybe

a

poem

then?

why god why

2012-02-08T03:20:00.000-08:00

Dear god, i.e. if you exist,

hi there. you know how I feel about you. or don't! LOL.

well, I'm writing to you because sometimes when I don't have the answers to everything and I'm feeling really lazy and don't want to put my mind to work I just ask you why.

This phenomenon, as you know, has been happening progressively less often. But when I saw this, this hideous display of Pakistani ego, dumbassery and sheer badtameezi, something in me snapped. Of course, lots of men do this! And they don't manage to not piss me off, either. But this. This guy.

You see, here in little ol' Pakistan we're taught that god is explicitly and especially on our side. That's how we came to be! And that's how we won all our wars! ~~No we didn't but that's not the point~~ we can beat India whenever we want! Yeah!!! That's what we're told. But seriously, if you really are on our side, you're doing a terrible job of getting the bo@yzz to behave. Maybe you're like the Pakistani cricket captain at any time. Most of the time you slack off, sometimes you feel like giving us something cool.

You know, seriously, sometimes I think you are like one of my friends (I would love to name her here but this post is blasphemous and she might mind). Maybe you are that friend. Who knows? It would explain a lot. Because if she created the world, she would just do or let 80% of the things happen for her own amusement. The other 20% of the time she would either not care or maybe feel bad and throw in something nice. But basically, if you're just out there lolling at everyone and everything down here, wondering why we take ourselves so seriously, I would just like to say two things:

1. Keep doing what you're (not) doing. It makes sense now.
2. Please, please, let me avoid the embarrassment of seeing such things on awesome websites. I shudder to think that Harto saw this. It makes me sad.
3. HAH! You saw #3 coming didn't you? So hi. Sup. Thanks for Milan Kundera, I guess?

can possibly only be yours blasphemously or fictitiously,
N

ffs

2012-01-11T03:43:00.000-08:00

Auden,

Yaar, what the hell yaar. Khamakhai ki complexity kyun? Why couldn't you just chill the hell out? Ok, well, I know why. But come onnnnnnnn it doesn't mean you mess with everyone's brain being all d3ep and pr0f0und. And seriously, CIE too is insane to give us your early poems because they sound like a thirteen year old mi$und@st00d emo kid high on A Clockwork Orange wrote some of them. I don't care, I feel like I can write better. And that, my friend, is my idea of literary criticism (if I can write better than you can, you don't deserve to be studied. We should pick up someone else's work. Might I suggest Sylvia Plath? I really really want to study her poetry). I mean...just sheer sloppy writing in some places, man. Disappointed, because some of your other poems, much simpler ones, are so much more complex and beautiful.

N

I have the papers right here

2012-01-10T07:07:00.001-08:00

Jane Lynch,

Adopt kar lo yaar. Please.

N

better than cremation, burial

2012-01-05T07:14:00.000-08:00

Can I die and become a song? I don't know who to ask.

N

disappear

2012-01-04T07:01:00.000-08:00

N-,

Where'd you go? Where'd you goooo? You just fucking dropped off the face of the planet and I miss you ok? I miss you. I think of you whenever I hear good guitar, and I wonder. Most of the time I think that you're stupid to be doing what you were doing. I won't lie. But I never thought you were stupid, inherently, as a person. You know when you really respect someone and you're harder on them for acting stupid, harder on them more than other people because from them you don't expect stupidity? That's how I feel. WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU. Do people really disappear? Like on tv and in shows? Can they? Well, it's Pakistan and I guess, yes, you can disappear. Maybe you don't want to see us and...well..I guess that's ok too cause I can't force you to see me, right? Damn. Damn. What a waste, N-, what a fucking waste. If only you knew that you were like a bright, shining star rather than a lighted match. A giant fucking star, too good for the shit you got yourself into. But noooooo, you wanted to be the little match, livingfastdyingyoung, whogivesashitabouttomorrow. Did I judge you? No. But I did love you (as a friend; I qualify the sentence because I don't want you to think that this is coming from a place of Sheer Ullukapathapan), and I suppose I do now too, I care about you. Jeeeeesus, N-, I think about you so often and you probably don't think of me at all. You're too fucking cool. For realsies. Maybe I should just shut my brain up and go to sleep haan? Go to sleep and stop worrying/wondering if you're still alive.

I think I had a couple of your messages on my phone but I probably deleted them in anger. What the fuck N-, what the fuck.

The waste, the waste. You know if you'd stuck around I'd have told you what tragedy is: it's waste. But maybe you already knew that! Maybe you wanted to be a tragedy, chose to be one, because you couldn't bear to be a comedy. Is that it?

I give up, for now. You know when I speak to everyone else in my head, I get a reply, a semi-plausible one. But from you, nothing. Did you want to be a ghost? Do you prefer to be that? Or was the you we knew a ghost, smoke and vapour and such? A singing ghost. That sounds like a gimmick, a singing ghost. Now I'm laughing. Was it a gimmick, complete with goosebumps? Because then I got what I paid for.

Fuck it. Who'm I to ask questions. Who'm I to imply judgement, right? Even my view of tragedy is a judgement, I guess, who'm I to think you've gone to waste.

I should shut up now.

Bye.

Roulette post #1

2012-01-01T09:27:00.000-08:00

I don't post here frequently. I should. And I should stop making the blog about ~three people. It was meant to be a spontaneous release blog, and so I'd like for it to be again. So I've decided to just go to my friends list, pick a random friend, and write her/him a letter. It'll be fun, and it'll get improbableletters back on track.

Ok. You, Hi. Umm, I can't claim to know you very well, or even well enough to say something to you after the pleasantries are over. I know we share a class, so we have that in common. Do you really like the class? I do. I don't know if you do too because as you may know I sit right in front and pretty much tune everything irrelevant out. Do you think I'm a nerd? I'm curious. Sometimes, I wonder. It's laughable, really, because...because if you really love something then what everyone else says doesn't matter. But still. We don't have anything else to talk about.

Why, though? Do we really have nothing to say to each other? Nothing in common? Worlds apart and such? I think that's strange, but not surprising.

I don't think you're a bad person. I think you're ok. You're nice, but uninteresting. I've hardly ever talked to you, and that is because I am the don't-give-a-fuck type person and it took me about a year to know the names of everyone in class. Once, I had a conversation and the whole time I was worried that the girl would ask me if I knew her name, to which I'd say no (not because it's impossible to lie, but because I don't on principle. Would you have lied? Or would you just have known her name?). You see? I'm just not bothered. I'm not interested in people unless they have something brilliant to say/add to the discussion.Yes, that's it. I want to be friends with people I admire, not people who are in the same boat as me.

I just read this over and I sound like a totally pretentious fuck. No wonder we don't talk.

life's lonely sometimes

2011-12-05T06:43:00.001-08:00

i thought i saw someone at the store who looked like you. for a split second (the time it takes to come up with a possibility and to shoot it down), i wondered what it would be like if you had a daughter. You don't, but what if. and before i could dismiss the thought and move on, i stuck to it. what if. my god, she'd be either the most interesting person i know or the least. amazing or completely the opposite, depending on how she takes after you or doesn't.

something about you. something about kids. something about love.

untitled

2011-10-07T07:12:00.000-07:00

I ran away. I didn't know what to do, so I ran away. I've mostly strangled my fight response. It's just flight. Me and flight, just hanging out, alone.

It's preservation. I say it's preservation because when I run away it's because I can't take the strain. I can't believe I was selfish enough to let you take the strain alone. Oh god I am such a bad person, I am such a bad person. It hit me too but I can't imagine how it hit you, how it hit all of you. It broke my brain in multiple places. I'm getting better. I mostly have but it still haunts you. I want to see you, run my hands over your faces, I can't believe I let you be! Why did I run? Nothing ever makes sense to me anymore, nothing I do, except for that one thing and I might even lose that one thing if I'm not too careful. Okay maybe there's one more thing, and it's so close. I might lose that too. I need to stop running. I need a spot and I need to take root and be like a tree that provides shade and not like ...whatever I am.

The grief is still there, locked in my throat.

I fucking need to talk to somebody about this.

musings

2011-09-23T10:46:00.000-07:00

I've shed a lot of who I was last year. Instead of adding, I suppose, I've subtracted. I've actually reduced the number of things I do give a fuck about. I take even less shit now and feel all the better for it.

I think that whatever persists in spite of change is whatever really matters. I've gone from having a bunch of crushes to actually not being attracted to anyone. I used to be a love addict, in the sense of giving it, but now I'm not. It's strange, in a sense, I miss it. But then again I don't. It hasn't persisted, it has no weight for now.

I still think of you, though. Not in the same way with an ache but with a more mellow feeling. A feeling like love but not silly romantic love. But then again it is partially silly romantic love. I don't know how to explain it. I've just grown, I guess. I only love one other person the same way, with a combination of respect and admiration and acceptance and celebration and joy.

I wrote a poem earlier this year called Part-Time Lover. I want to read it to you because it has nothing to do with you but does have to do with my perpetual feeling of inadequacy in the face of a love addiction. Maybe it does have to do with you but it has to do with me mostly. I think it talks of light somewhere.

Light. A slant of the afternoon sun fills me with irrepressible nostalgia. I will always associate that fall of light with the person I mentioned earlier, with your hurried beauty. (-First Loves) I've a light memories of you too, I think I wrote a story about one of them. The story is called...at night the lonely people come out? That's the first line, anyway. I don't remember the title but then again I don't really care for titles. Anyhow, two things: first, the figure you cut as you walk. It's got this way of being...almost as a fight. Like you're daring somebody to challenge you, stop you, outwit, outrun you. The purpose, that strange intangible masked by thought and evident in being — it's amazing. I saw it as you walked down the hall a shadow (the light was spilling in from behind you) and it was great in its own right. I struggled to maintain my composure.

Struggle — jiddojehed. As I've taken off parts of myself and left them on the curb, parts I would've struggled to get rid of before — you're still here. You're in my head somewhere, charging about. I can't stop that manifestation of you from spilling out on the page, from filling in the gaps of paper hearts with real blood so that the characters sing rather than speaking stiltedly.

Things you've said, even in jest, mean a lot to me. So thank you for that. Was that it? Did I just want to thank you? Yes. I do want to thank you. But also to say: I see you. With and without light. Which brings us to the second: when I first saw you, I didn't think you were omgsogoodlooking. Is that weird? I don't mean to say it in the sense that I thought you were ugly. I didn't think about it at all. I grew into it as I got to know you. So there. It's not just the light; its your defiance of it too. Light and anti-light. My first memory of you is a rushed one, one filled with fear and anticipation. That's me. I don't know how you felt. Anti-light.

2011-08-27T03:47:00.000-07:00

self,

you realize you may have screwed up. actually, you probably have. people can't stand to see you happy in your choices. why? where? how? always with the same fucking questions.

you should've kept your mouth shut.

all you want is a quiet place where you know nobody and go sit by the lake and have time to think.

maybe the dream is ridiculous. maybe it's blasphemous, maybe you've offended somebody by your happiness. they can't let you be, they need to take it from you.

which is why you should've kept your mouth shut, eh? did you not know that perhaps you are convincing? that maybe people do believe what you say? I think you knew. you didn't know, though, and i admit it, what it would do. but now you know. it's time for damage control, to fix the mess you've made. or you suffer! my god you've suffered long enough to have to put up with more bullshit. it's not worth it, it's not been worth years and years and you can't put up with it any longer. it's not fair.

so do something.

ooooooooooohfuck.

remember that time

2011-08-20T11:30:00.000-07:00

Ok so you probably don't know this but I stalked your sister for the longest time. Not physically, but just. I was like ye hai kaun shakseeyat? So I was all curious and such, looking out for her.

At around the same time I saw this person sometimes and I was like, hey, she resembles you.

It took me like six months to put two and two together. AHAHAHAHAHA.

That was weird. Yes, once I was so nuts about you that I wanted to stalk your sister. I mean, seriously. What kind of a spell was I under? I know, I know, it was that. But beyond it, nothing. I'm such a fool at times and right now it's just making me laugh. Because what else is there to do but to laugh at your own folly?

nice try

2011-08-20T00:51:00.001-07:00

foong@ice-holidays.com AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAA

a letter to the person I was a year ago.

2011-08-18T09:05:00.000-07:00

Believe me, it gets better. It has and it's strange and miraculous and incomprehensible. Things ease up, the pain eases up, the anger subsides. The way your throat feels — like it's a deep valley at the bottom of which sit strange scary thoughts, thoughts that turn into monsters, thoughts with the potential to turn you into a monster ... it eases up, a lot of it goes away. Yes, you're right, maybe some of it is still there, lurking in the valley, hoping to prey. But you won't be so afraid of that one day. Like I said, it gets better.

But I won't lie. Some things don't get better and won't for a while. This is pakistan after all.

In 2011 you shall find yourself rid of a lot of anxiety regarding school and friends and the future.
In 2011 you'll have a lot of it behind you.

Don't give up. Don't give in to strange dreams and fear and lies you've told yourself.

Things will get worse before they get better, though. It will take so long you'll feel like it's never going to end. And then suddenly one day you'll be okay enough. Then another you will feel strength you didn't know you had. At first you'll pretend to function and then you will be functioning and fine. You'll be just fine.

Oh, and you need to write more.

Thank you, please stay strong: you can make it.

2011-08-17T03:54:00.000-07:00

BABY IT'S BOKONONISM!

what am I doing wrong here

2011-08-17T03:48:00.000-07:00

Why doesn't anything I do ever work? Why don't you like me? I mean, you like me, but not in the way that — let's say you and I are talking. I give you all my attention and you don't give me yours. Why? How am I lacking? And I don't ask this of you in some whiny tone, desperately...I ask you this because I just really want to know.

there are no coincidences in bokoninism

2011-08-15T10:23:00.000-07:00

So I was reading this particularly terrible piece of fiction and came across the phrase: like twins, but not quite. I shit you not. Thank you brain/god/fate/kamila shamsie from saving me, because then I realized that I must stop reading immediately.

this song

2011-08-02T08:12:00.000-07:00

Some names have been changed
to protect identities of the innocent

So just sit back and pretend that this one is
about some other friend...about some other friend

So you and me sat down at some diner in midtown
and you could hear the conversation from the table over
talking seeds and soil, trucks and lawnmowers

And it’s easier in nighttime when you had too much whiskey, maybe too much wine
and you wake up in the morning and you have to look at him
so you stare at your spoon, your upside down reflection

Oh yeah.

April fifth- that blasted day
when you turned your head around
like the girl on the plane here
like freddy said in the hall of red

So why’d you have to get out
and put your coat on?
yeah, why’d you have to get out
and put your coat on?

Yeah why’d you have to get out
and put your coat on?

-Tilly and the Wall.

[lyrics seem to be different on different sites. But listen to the song, it's beautiful]

This is how I feel about you sometimes.

Also, I feel like the cherry pie.

elephant

2011-08-01T10:41:00.000-07:00

I've missed you, sorely.

Good to be back.

Can't say any more than that without sounding crazy or pretentious.

But I'm not crazy, I mean at least in that sense, or pretentious, again only in that sense. I wish I didn't feel like laughing at my own words, didn't feel like everything I can say or think is pathetic. I'm in awe of you, of course, everyone is. Especially the haters.

If I was worth anything my words would have weight. But take them, take them all, do what you will of them, tear them up or mock me. For now it's great to be right where I am. I wish I could ask you to not move an inch, to stay still, but I can't, I can't ever even capture you or think of doing so because it would be in vain, it would be vain of me to think I can.

Wish we had more time, everything seems too short, too ephemeral, evanescent when I'm with you. It's like the world dissolves, the simulacra fades to nothingness. It's amazing, like witnessing the beginning or end of something, but only in the periphery. Do you understand? It's like being in the restaurant at the end of the universe but being too busy to witness the end of the universe. See? I'm sounding pretentious again. But that's what it's like, I think that's what they call an elephant in a room...

oh, google

2011-07-29T09:25:00.000-07:00

Dear google,

Well played.

Also, of COURSE ie users are dumb. Or n00bs. Which is the same thing, I guess.

N

let's see what happens now that I've replied

2011-07-10T21:53:00.000-07:00

Mr Tony Stewart,

Do you know Kristen Stewart? I am attaching a picture of her here so you remember what she looks like, I have been trying to find her for the past 2 1/2 years, if you have any information reply using this same email address, please.

I am ready with a reward of $420 M for you. Forget $5.5M! Come work for me.

However, to work for me, you must send me your hotmail account and password so I can sign into it and see if you are an Honest and Reliable person. Also I shall be needing your contact details. I am looking forward to a prompt response.

Yours sincerely,

N Khan,

Future PhD

From: tonys@santander.co.uk
Subject: Confidential Please
Date: Sun, 10 Jul 2011 20:56:05 +0100

From: Tony Stewart

Santander Bank, UK

Dear Friend,

I am Mr. Tony Stewart, the Auditor General, Santander Bank UK . In the course of my auditing, I discovered a floating fund in an account, which was opened in 1990 at Abbey National Bank which was bought over by Santander group belonging to a dead foreigner who died in 1999.

Every effort made to track any member of his family or next of kin has since failed; hence I got in contact with you to stand as his next of kin since you bear the same last name.

He died leaving no heir or a will.

My intention is to transfer this sum of $5.5M in the aforementioned account to a safe account overseas. I am therefore proposing that you quietly partner with me and provide an account or set up a new one that will serve the purpose of receiving this fund. For your assistance in this venture, I am ready to part with a good percentage of the entire funds. After going through the deceased person's records and files, I discovered that:

(1) No one has operated this account since 1999

(2) He died without an heir; hence the money has been floating.

(3) No other person knows about this account and there was no known beneficiary.

If I do not remit this money urgently, it would be forfeited and subsequently converted to company's funds, which will benefit only the directors of my firm. This money can be approved to you legally as with all the necessary documentary approvals in your name. However, you would be required to show some proof of claim, which I will provide you with and also guide you on how to make your applications.

Please do give me a reply so that I can send you detailed information on the modalities of my proposition. I completely trust you to keep this proposition absolutely confidential. Kindly forward your telephone number where I can reach you easily.

I look forward to your prompt response.

Best Regards,

Mr. Tony Stewart.

Email:tonystw1@one.co.il

this is overdue

2011-07-03T11:21:00.000-07:00

B,

Hi! Hihihihi. I miss you. I want to open up hotmail and type you an email and ask you how you are because I realized something recently: I don't need a lot of people. I've lost friends over the past year, and I've realized slowly, numbly, that I can adjust. I can do almost any fucking thing I tell myself I can, and this is one of those things. And maybe it's because I live in Pakistan that I have learnt to live with loss. Hurray.

So this is to tell you that yes, I have learned to live without you. But I'd rather have you in my life.

And the only reason I'm not emailing you right now is the rut. The rut we got ourselves into. It was like a CD that got stuck. Do I miss the rut? Absolutely not. But I miss everything else.

Hoping you'll text sometime,

N

so i got more spam

2011-07-01T00:14:00.000-07:00

ok i opened it anyway

dear mrs elizabeth etters,

thanks for being so considerate as to let me know that what you have sent me is spam. and also for wishing me a good day. and thanks for entrusting me with £2 m, but i'd rather pass it up. please donate it to charity, thanks.

N

heart

2011-06-26T03:32:00.000-07:00

Rabayl Manzoor,
i love you for doing what you're doing.
N

tumblrrrrrrr

2011-06-20T00:56:00.000-07:00

I spend a lot of time on the internet being grateful for the fact that certain websites exist. For example tumblr. So I shall write a thank-you note to tumblr for existing.

Dear Tumblr,

Thanks for existing. Your existence helps me cope with a lot of shit.

I do not personally blog with you, because I am not fun and interesting and the instant-blogger type. I am the boring oldfashioned blogging-because-it-is-a-cheap-form-of-therapy type.

The reason I am writing this letter is because I just found http://teganandsaragifs.tumblr.com/ which is right now the most amazing fucking thing on the planet.

YES I WANT TO LOOK AT GIFS OF TEGAN BRUSHING HER TEETH.
BRB GOTTA WATCH SPEAK SLOW AGAIN.

N

Also, also, when I google something random that I like I usually end up finding a tumblr about it. Which is awesome. Life gets easier.

THE GOVERNMENT IS STUPID

2011-06-17T09:50:00.000-07:00

dear government,

my! what bright ideas you have.

like blocking the roads in front of sensitive areas like the saudi consulate. what the FUCK PEOPLE PASS FROM THERE EVERY DAY. YOU ARE ALL IDIOTS. PROBLEM HAI TOW MOVE THE SAUDIS SOMEPLACE ELSE. I AM SICK AND TIRED OF THIS BULLSHIT WHERE YOU TREAT YOUR OWN CITIZENS LIKE SHIT. AS IF LIFE ISN'T UNPLEASANT ENOUGH WE HAVE TO TAKE DETOURS. AND HOW DO YOU THINK THOSE DETOURS MAKE US FEEL? THE WORD STARTS WITH AN A. NO, IT IS NOT MERELY ANNOYED ANYMORE. IT IS ANGRY. AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT ANGER LEADS TO?

NO GOOD.

N

confused

2011-06-10T01:09:00.000-07:00

You,

I thought we were friends?

N

somebody else said it better

2011-06-05T12:34:00.001-07:00

letterstocrushes.com/letter/57660

as kenan put it: WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

2011-05-30T06:51:00.000-07:00

dear god,

hey wassup how ya doin. i just got a question for you. WHY. WHY GOD WHY. WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY. why do there exist people who confuse me so? why am i confused? why do i care? why can't i just move on?

yes i am asking you because i have nobody to ask! everybody i try to explain this to seems to take it as a joke which i suppose it is. it feels like a joke is being played on me sometimes. yes i know i'm not the center of the universe, but c'mon we're all conditioned to believe we are. and really, it feels like a joke. it's funny when i look at it objectively but mostly it just seems CONFUSING.

so please. no more confusion. please. clear two people out of my mind. no, four. four people out of my mind and see how much more useful i become. i really do have the ability to be an OK human being. it's just that i feel pulled by so many different people that I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. it's like tegan says in city girl: I GOT SO CRAZY I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. ok? ok. thanks. also i need to stop being so needy ya know? i'm trying real hard. trying real hard to be the shepherd! but whattodo. it's so hard.

N

soliloquy

2011-05-25T08:49:00.000-07:00

I haven't written here for a while. I'm sorry. I can't think of anything to say. It's the same old people I know and the same old feelings. Sometimes they're new feelings for new people, but I seem to be following the same paths, the same curves. Ok well maybe curves is the wrong word. Yes, I see you laughing in the audience. Nice to see a familiar face.

Familiar face. I've had to deal with dirty realities a lot more often this month. You see when school's off I get a lot more time to think, which is bad. Because being stuck in my head is a bad thing. In addition I'm having exams till the 3rd and that just makes it worse because I have to keep going over the same crap over and over again.

I messed up one of my papers and today I think I messed up another. I'm scared. This is essentially my worst fear being played out. Grades on their own don't matter but of course, when I've got so much to lose if I lose marks...well, things tend to get a bit dicey there. I'm taking too much stress. I'm breaking down more often. I'm keeping even more in. I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this.

This sounds like a suicide note of some sorts, I've just realized. It's not, it's not. I'd make a joke here, to quell the tension, but I'm not in the mood to joke so I'm sorry you'll have to put up with this.

Anyhow as soon as I'm done with exams I shall try to have some adventures or something to get rid of the stagnancy and the depression.

On a lighter note of sorts, I'm writing again which is good. I even wrote two poems this week! This is all very exciting. As some of you might know I hope to one day finish a book of poems and every poem I write gets me a little closer to that goal. It makes me feel like I'm doing something worthwhile. Of course, I keep cutting out poems as I grow out of them (and I'm so glad I do that!), and so maybe it'll never be finished. I've a number in mind and when I get there I will feel...I don't know. Happy? Relieved? I don't know. It's a lot of poems to write. Maybe I would be glad to have written as many. Maybe I'd want to write more. But it'd still be a happy emotion overall.

I need to get out of the house more often, see people, do things. I've already said that, I know.

I seem to have lost my ability to be honest about myself with people I know. I just can't bring myself to ask for help. And everyone's super busy with exams too so that's probably a good thing.

I want to go to an art show and look at beautifully designed letters. I know that'd make me feel better. It's great to know there's people out there who make letters beautiful. We use fonts every day and see them everywhere but god. They're so beautiful. They make life beautiful every day. At least the nice ones do. And so I'm glad someone's out there looking at a g and thinking...how could I make this even better?

i hope i never figure out who broke your heart

2011-04-12T09:11:00.000-07:00

I hope I never figure out
Who broke your heart
And if I do, if I do
I'd spend all night losing sleep
I'd spend the night and I'd lose my mind
I'd spend the night and I'd lose my mind
I'd spend all night losing sleep

atnspsa,

These lyrics make me think of you. I want to get to the bottom of what Karen Armstrong would call* the mystery at the centre of your being. I want your mystery. I want to know who broke your heart, or if you've never got it broken the way you've broken mine.

I think you're too good to not have had your heart broken yet. I think you're too distinct to not have had it broken.

But I know that if I know it'll get me nowhere. I will be no better off knowing what makes you you because rationality turns to bullshit when you're trying to understand someone. Maybe I can say, hey, A happened to you and that's why you treated me like that. Or that week B happened so you smiled at me. Or tomorrow it's C-day so you'll laugh and tell me what you think is the truth. But that won't mean anything. Initially I thought the mystery of a person -- once you know it -- is gone forever, dissipated. But how can it go like that? It can't. We like writing things, people off. Once we think we've got to their core, we feel, okay, well, my job here's done, I understand.

I hope I never figure out what makes you you because if I think I do then I don't. I'm no better off, just have extra "knowledge" saddled on to me. I don't want to figure anything out. If you tell me, if you think it'll make it easier for me to know something about you, if you think it'll give me some insight, by all means, go ahead... but jeesus, I hope I never figure a single thing out about you. Not by clues or nail polish or shoes or anything (I've got some really bad writer habits which would coincide with a stalker's habits I suppose: noticing people I like, and little things about them. It used to be interesting but I'm giving it up).

N

*I don't know why that term stuck in my head...probably because my lit teacher repeated it later and it sounded MUCH MORE LYRICAL without the religious context

curses!

2011-04-08T14:04:00.001-07:00

WORDPRESS,
I HATE HATE HATE HATE YOU. YOU DON'T LET ME PUT FRIENDCONNECT IN AS A WIDGET. YOU DON'T EVEN LET ME CHANGE MY FRIGGIN FONT. IF I HAD MONEY TO BUY A DOMAIN NAME I'D BUY IT. MAYBE I SHOULD JUST MOVE THIS BLOG TO BLOGGER TOO. IT'D BE MUCH BETTER TO HAVE MY OWN TEMPLATE RATHER THAN THIS SHIT I HAVE TO WORK WITH. AAAAAAAAGH.
N

I need your help guys

2011-04-05T13:39:00.000-07:00

Dear Readers,

This new theme: y/n? Comment please.

N

a sad story

2011-03-30T05:41:00.000-07:00

Dearest Brother:

Your distressed relative is pleased with the beautiful blouse. I love it! Received it this morning. Will implant it when I am clean, immaculate. I long to exhist [sic], wear it, to receive a dark brown skirt to implant it upon.

I miss you. Am sorry that I couldn't bestow a present upon you that isn't my love. I am implanting a stitch on a dish towel that I can allot to you. It is a brilliant trajic [sic] one that I love, hope to bestow upon you.

My blue dress which I received for Yuletide fits, is becoming! I am pleased with it, with the candy, cake, work basket, cookies. I do enjoy rich, flesh making delicacies.

I need some new gowns.

Come and see me soon. I love you.

Rose

source

as a break from all the improbable, I've posted an actual letter this time. It was from Rose Williams to her brother Tennessee.

tsk tsk

2011-03-23T14:29:00.000-07:00

Dear Nokia,

'Hey girl/I am the best/accept karo/meri friend request' -- worst ad ever.

N

bane

2011-03-23T14:16:00.000-07:00

to the harami who has my number and keeps texting me,

wtf is wrong with you. what.

N

oh gosh

2011-03-18T09:05:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr Jinnah,

I just saw a picture of you that I hadn't seen before and it took me a little time to recognize you. I feel really sad and strange at the same time.

Yesterday I was talking to Maliha and I told her of the thought that's been hitting me for the past couple of days: what about the Pakistani dream? What of it? We hear of The American Dream™ all the time but what about The Pakistani Dream? I think we had the same dream, except all of its wishy has been washed out and it just stands, staring at us, its face lined and somewhat unrecognisable, somewhat like

yours.

N

from migraines to tension headaches and everything in between

2011-03-14T08:41:00.000-07:00

Headaches,

FUCK OFF.

N

visual pollution

2011-03-13T08:55:00.000-07:00

[caption id="attachment_732" align="alignnone" width="251" caption="nuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu"][/caption]

To whoever is responsible for this,
WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
N

in which feelings are reciprocated

2011-03-12T06:47:00.000-08:00

[caption id="attachment_730" align="alignnone" width="512" caption="It's true."][/caption]

oh so you think just because i'm pakistani i will infringe your copyright

2011-03-12T06:33:00.000-08:00

Hiya Sony. Ever heard of labelling theory? FU guys.

i want a portrait of mariam apa too

2011-03-11T07:59:00.000-08:00

Dear Celeste,

I love you. You are funny. Please become real.

Yours truly,
I-love-decadence-and-am-okay-with-you-living-in-a-country-steeped-with-it-friend,
N

screwed up

2011-03-04T13:47:00.000-08:00

dear self

[i just thought about it; this belongs on a post-it in a prominent place]

STOP FALLING IN LOVE WITH PEOPLE. IT'S NOT OKAY. IT IS UNHEALTHY AND ONLY CAUSES YOU PAIN. FIND A BETTER ACTIVITY, SAY COMING UP WITH BRILLIANT STORIES AND/OR BLOG IDEAS TO ENTERTAIN THE GOOD CYBERCITIZENS OF THE INT3RN@TS.

stopdoingunhealthythingstoyourselfstopdoingunhealthythingstoyourself

stopstopstopstop

damn it.

no fair

2011-02-27T11:41:00.000-08:00

american idol,

why'd you kick travis off man.

N

2011-02-19T05:53:00.000-08:00

Dear people in my head,

please settle down. The other ones, the ones who are populating the story (yeah you three, the two dudes and the aunty), plus make geographical, social and economic sense. Also work yourself into a magical ready-made narrative that MAKES SENSE so I can win a thousand-dollar prize and become rich and able to buy a nice laptop and stuff. Ok? ok.

N

Dear you,

The cursor blinks and blinks. The eyes blink and blink. There's something there, behind all that indecision, behind all that blankness, but if I were to say the things to you that the cursor in its incessant blinking masks, I think all hell would break loose for me. Does that mean I'm holding the keys to my own hell? Yes. Sometimes I wanna just put this key into the door to just go in there and see how big of a mess I'm capable of creating. Annihilation, that's what I'm drawn to on both ends. I can't have you, I want to annihilate myself in your light. I can't have you, I want to annihilate myself as far away from you as possible, so in my final blaze of pure Self, free of façade, I can look in the mirror, look in the camera, look at the page, and be. And both these urges scream at me, tear me apart, and seriously there is too much drama.

N

i gotta meet the person who chooses these books

2011-02-01T07:28:00.000-08:00

Dear School Library,

Thank you for having Watchmen. But do know I'm probs not giving it back till the end of the school year.

Love,

N

anotherloveletterr #3: the dream

2011-01-25T08:56:00.000-08:00

Last night, I had a dream about you.

Right now I'm looking up what it means, and to do so I'm on some shady Psychic website. I mean, shit.

We were in a garden and had to leave to go home. We chatted on the way and had difficulty getting out. The garden was on the roof of a building, btw.

here's what gardens mean:

Psychological Meaning: A garden is a promising dream symbol that may show inner growth and stability. Sometimes dream gardens are symmetrical with a central point. This mandala symbol represents the inner wholeness of your true self. Pools, water and fountains show the pure spiritual energies that constitute your nature. This dream may indicate inner healing after a period of discord and unease.

Mystical Meaning: Some sources claim that to dream of a garden foretells a marriage to a very beautiful woman or a handsome man.

To see a garden in your dreams, filled with evergreen and flowers, denotes great peace of mind and comfort. To see vegetables, denotes misery or loss of fortune and calumny. To females, this dream foretells that they will be famous, or exceedingly happy in domestic circles. To dream of walking with one's lover through a garden where flowering shrubs and plants abound, indicates unalloyed happiness and independent means.

weeeeell, the psychological meaning's not so bad. I mean, I do have a relatively stable life right now. Though I didn't have a central point. I don't remember much, though I think I had to carefully maneuver my way out. There were some obstacles getting out, basically, I don't remember. And we had to leave 'cause we had to go home. I remember lying to you about my current circumstances. I also remember saying the word bourgeois and you laughing. Oh, and I do remember water. I don't have spiritual energies, sorry, if that's what you're looking for. And mystically, well, that shit ain't possible if it's you that the dream is foretelling marriage to.

Why would I want to leave the garden? I just remember this feeling of we have to leave, and go to our respective homes. Not urgency, just a 'this-is-how-it-is' kind of thing.

What does the roof represent?

The roof represents possibly your mind. A house represents your body or who you are as a person, your being. So the roof would represent your mind or your thoughts.

To find yourself on a roof in a dream, denotes unbounded success. To become frightened and think you are falling, signifies that, while you may advance, you will have no firm hold on your position.

To see a roof in your dream, symbolizes a barrier between two states of consciousness. It represents a protection of your consciousness, mentality, and beliefs. It is an overview of how you see yourself and who you think you are.

So: I'm feeling stable and peaceful and shit and you're there and this place is apparently what I think of and it means unbounded success. THEN WE LEAVE THIS PLACE. WHY DO WE LEAVE? BECAUSE WE HAVE TO.

I know, dream interpretation sounds stupid. It probably is, when it comes to foretelling stuff. But symbols? I believe in symbols, and so something my mind tells me is probably a way of communicating to me what I think of all day.

Bottom line: you and I, together, in a garden -- a word loaded with connotations. And then we leave. We leave through descent. Is this me confirming to myself that though we'd be super happy together we can't be?

anotherloveletter #2

2011-01-21T08:03:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking about you and since I can't stop I will write you another letter. Maybe I can tire myself out just writing one letter after another, who knows. Maybe this will just get worse. It doesn't matter either way just now, I'm tired of thinking about things and how they turn out so I will write you this letter and throw it to the winds or the ocean or however you see the internet, and maybe some time after I'll pull it back and re-read it and toss it again.

I'm working on this play I thought of today. Not actually writing it right now, just thinking about it. It feels nice to sometimes hold things in, even things you're raring to share, just so you can enjoy them some. I have stories to tell you that I won't tell anyone else, I've saved up little jokes and clever things you'd like so I can tell you when we see each other. I'll send you the play when it's done, it's about the idea of history and past selves.

***

Writing letters reminds me of Florentino Ariza and the guy in The Notebook, which I think sounds too much like Love in the Time of Cholera. Maybe I'm like one of those guys. I'm trying to work out how I feel about that and I'm drawing a blank. I can be anyone, you know, and that bothers me. That's why I'm writing that story about history because it's troubling me a lot, it troubles me a lot, the idea of identity. Kundera's outlined it wonderfully in his well-titled book Identity -- there you go, another book that involves letters.

Ah, I wanna re-read it. It's really good. So, anyway -- identity. I thought of a story idea related to that too, but then I realized that that story idea is basically my life.

So I won't be writing it, but feeling the effects of it anyway.

***

anotherloveletter

2011-01-18T12:48:00.000-08:00

You,

You, you crazyamazingwonderful person. This is for you, to you:

Let me tell you about inadequacy: it's something I feel a lot, it's something I fear a lot. I don't talk about it. I don't talk about a lot of things, I leave them unsaid or leave cryptic indecipherable hints about them. Mostly they just translate into sarcasm or bitterness on my part. That's why I'm the way I am. I have a lot of unhappy inside.

I wouldn't tell this to anyone but you. I can write it down, I can let a million strangers read it, but wouldn't say it to anyone's face. I can see myself and you, and I can see myself telling you all this. Right now, I can, and that's important. At different times of the day I think different things --

Mostly I daydream about you. It keeps me out of trouble, you know, thinking of you. Last week I ended up collapsing, the center that had held for months just gave way, just like that, and I thought seriously about killing myself then. It's not been this bad for a while; even December wasn't this bad, and neither was July, I think. I've been pretty clean. But I think it was the combined effect of all those things coming together. What I didn't think in July I thought about last week.

There's still things I haven't thought about.

Last week, I thought of going to you and telling you about July. But I can't talk to anyone, I can't open up my mouth and utter the words, can't even fucking type them all out. I tried once with Simmy but it wasn't the right time and now things are...well, mostly back to square one. My mind goes to dark places, and when it does it goes to July first.

so, like I was saying -- last week. I couldn't think of a reason to live and I thought, If Mount Holyoke goes out of the picture, I don't know what I will do -- and I just sat there on the floor feeling shitty with my head splitting and I just thought of you a lot and it helped.

The reason I don't see myself telling you all these things is because I like you so much. Because if I say these things then what if you don't like me anymore. What if you don't think I'm cool. What if you see through me and see that I'm just a depressed teenager, nothing more, nothing special (which is how it is), and what if that leads to disenchantment. And then what? I lose what I have with you, and losing that might just ruin me at this point in time. And so I don't want to tell you things about me though they are the really important parts, things that are secrets and make up my world, not because I lack faith in you or your ability to understand or whatever, but just because I think you'll grow bored with what I really have to offer.

I will never be enough for you, and I know it, and I get that.

You're awesome. Know that. I thought of a way to put you down in words, and realized that basically you do whatever the hell you want. You have no fear. You're beautiful, insane and free. Just watching you speak, just watching you think, inspires me. It's weird but that's how it is. Someday I will tell you about this, in real life, just so you know that I celebrate your existence. I want you to be like this forever, please be like this forever.

I will come back for you, that is if you stay. I will come back for you. Even if I end up living at the bottom of the friggin ocean in an experimental underwater city, I will take some time to get back to you, to write to you, to see you.

I don't know anyone quite like you.

N

it is about the hair

2011-01-01T12:43:00.000-08:00

Dear Teddy Charles,

My hair def. grows faster than 1.2 cm/month. Hell, my brother's hair grows even faster and he doesn't even take care of his hair (though his hair looks like crap, so maybe I shouldn't be counting him here). Get a better ad campaign. In fact,

Dear Sunsilk

Hire Shane McCutcheon, your products will sell and you won't need this 1.2 cm shtick.

N

_

Oh, and if anyone's interested, I've started writing on my other blog again.

Happy New Year.

colon open parenthesis

2010-12-21T15:37:00.000-08:00

It's the birthday of the woman who inspired this verse by W.B. Yeats: "Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths, / Enwrought with golden and silver light, / The blue and the dim and the dark cloths / Of night and light and the half light, / I would spread the cloths under your feet: / But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."

That's Maud Gonne whom W.B. Yeats was addressing; she was born in Surrey, England, on this day in 1865, just six months after Yeats was born in Dublin. They first met when they were each 25 years old. Yeats later referred to the day he met her as "when the troubling of my life began."

She was an Irish revolutionary, independent-minded, graceful, and reared in affluence. She was tall, red-headed, and exquisitely beautiful. In his Memoirs, Yeats wrote: "I had never thought to see in a living woman such great beauty. It belonged to famous pictures, to poetry, to some legendary past. A complexion like the blossom of apples, and yet face and body had the beauty of lineaments which Blake calls the highest beauty because it changes least from youth to age, and a stature so great that she seemed of a divine race." She wore long black dresses and she kept singing birds as pets.

He asked her to marry him over and over again. She refused, over and over again. She once told him: "You would not be happy with me. ... You make beautifully poetry out of what you call your unhappiness and you are happy in that. Marriage would be such a dull affair. Poets should never marry."

In a letter to him in 1911, she wrote, "Our children were your poems of which I was the father sowing the unrest & storm which made them possible & you the mother who brought them forth in suffering & in the highest beauty."

Yeats wrote about her:
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
via The Writer's Almanac

Oh my god, reading this made me so sad. You guys, seriously, what the fuck is was wrong with you? What? Why?

was too afraid to even click it

2010-12-18T08:39:00.000-08:00

[caption id="attachment_673" align="aligncenter" width="241" caption="oh, internet."][/caption]

WHAT.

In other news, 'memorialize' is a word! who knew?

so long

2010-12-17T12:20:00.000-08:00

seinfeld's fridge has been rocked back and forth enough times, you and i are over.

i know you'd expect me to give you a long, flowery speech about it and, honestly, i'd expect that too...but i have nothing to say to you. i just hope this is over soon.

bye

everything's yellow instead of green

2010-12-14T05:56:00.000-08:00

dornob.com/emergent-patterns-game-wallpapers-beat-dull-wall-decor/

fw:charlotte perkins gilman

remind you of anything?

screw-up

2010-12-11T05:29:00.000-08:00

S,

Thank you so much for telling me that I was wrong. And thanks for telling me that I disappointed you, because that just goes to show that you actually care enough to have expectations. I won't let you down next time.

Much love,

N

Ray Bradbury was cool

2010-12-05T06:08:00.000-08:00

Dear Ray Bradbury,

Thanks so much for writing Usher II. I loved it, it was awesome, awesomer than Fall of The House of Usher in the first place, which I don't really like cause it's so melodramatic. I liked your story. It was cool, it had this vein of humour in it, and of course, the ending was also...just cool, ya know? I wish someone would make a short, neat little video out of it cause it'd be creepy and memorable.

N

creationists seem to be devolving

2010-12-02T11:26:00.000-08:00

TRIGGER WARNING FOR EMO CREATIONISTS

Sheldon: EVOLUTION IS NOT AN OPINION, IT IS A FACT.

Sheldon's mom: ...and that is your opinion.

FW: Basim

This debate sounds fun. I think the only evidence against evolution is the fact that creationists seem to be devolving. But since being a creationist means not having a brain, them getting less smarter might actually be proof of evolution. Meh, I withdraw my objections.

Circles

2010-12-02T11:21:00.000-08:00

(...taken, I am yours, I'm up and doing circles, I'm taken, I am yours, I'm...)

Take a hint, will you?

wronged

2010-11-23T12:23:00.000-08:00

Olivia Wilde,

Listen up. When I get the next episode of House, you better be in it. Seriously, I'm whining about you not being in House to EVERYONE and consequently even people not directly related to House are being made miserable by me. So yeah, it's a multiplier effect. COME BAAAAAAAACK!!!

N

T&S,

Tonight you play a concert in India. I'm in mourning cause YOU'RE NOT IN PAKISTAN AND YOU WILL PROBABLY NEVER COME HERE. IT'S NOT FAIR YOU GUYS.

WHAT.

N

swedishsubs

2010-11-20T07:46:00.000-08:00

Dear Sweden,

Herrgud! Your language is vad bra. Slut.

N

#1

2010-11-15T09:02:00.000-08:00

S,

This is the first of many letters. I've finally opened up that well of ~feelings and it's honestly better now, more objective and less confusing. All the same, there's so much I need to talk to you about, things of the past and things of the present; as each day passes there's more history made, more to catch up on.

But right now, lemme tell you something...one thing that's constant is the fact that I miss you. I don't miss you like I remember everyone else, with small characteristic gestures. I miss you sometimes when I'm just about to drift off to sleep. There's times when I check my phone and wish I'd saved more of your messages. I miss the way you made me laugh. It's not the same, of course nothing is bloody well the same, but still, I didn't know it would be so different, you know? Maybe if I'd known of how much not_same things are going to be maybe I'd have...

...no, actually, I wouldn't have. I stand by what I've done, goddamn, I just wish there was some way to stop missing you so I wouldn't have to make these bullshit analyses and rationalizations to feel better.

Ok bye now, see you around the bend at #2.

N

i get it, mullets are awesome

2010-11-09T03:52:00.000-08:00

Top Posts (the past week)

mullet 19 views

Top Searches

girl mullet, mullet girl, mullets, female mullet, kristen stewart brasil glasses

SOMEBODY PLEASE TELL ME WHAT IS GOING ON WITH MY BLOG. Are mullets going to become fashionable? Is everyone going to have a mullet in the near future?

I know I'm not gonna get one, cause my mother doesn't care about me. FML

If we do indeed have a mullet-filled future, I hope that it is an awesome one BECAUSE MULLETS CAN GO VERY, VERY WRONG. Haircuts are like coffee. Everybody thinks they can make very good coffee -- except they can't. Mere milk and coffee and sugar does not an awesome coffee make. It's actually very probable that the coffee tastes like shit but since it's common for coffee to be made so, people don't notice how bad it is. Likewise, everyone thinks they can pull off whatever haircut/hairstyle is in fashion -- except they can't. Mere cutting and straightening and conditioning does not a awesome hairstyle make. It's actually very probable that people end up having shit hairstyles and because it's common to have bangs and layers and whatever, people don't notice how bad it is.

IT'S LIKE IRIE FROM WHITE TEETH, FFS.

Well, the solution to the problem is to 1) look at pictures of mullets. Lots of them. Figure out what's wrong with the ones that look terrible, and what's good about the ones that are THE SHIZZ and 2) have a good hairstylist who doesn't f-k up your hair.

This is what you want:

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="Kristen Stewart! Yay! This is an example of a GOOD mullet. Damn, this reminds me that I still have to watch The Runaways"][/caption]

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="320" caption="This is just an excuse for me to add a picture of Tee-Tee. But look! She's so cute! The mullet adds to her cuteness instead of taking attention away from it. God, I sound like Seventeen Magazine"][/caption]

This is what you don't want:

remember remember the fifth of november

2010-11-05T10:32:00.000-07:00

Remember, remember the Fifth of November,

The Gunpowder Treason and Plot,

I know of no reason

Why the Gunpowder Treason

Should ever be forgot.

Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, t'was his intent

To blow up the King and Parli'ment.

Three-score barrels of powder below

To prove old England's overthrow;

By God's providence he was catch'd (or by God's mercy*)

With a dark lantern and burning match.

Holla boys, Holla boys, let the bells ring.

Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!

And what should we do with him? Burn him!

Guy Fawkes,

How you doin'?

N

we're all made of kittens anyway

2010-11-02T16:29:00.000-07:00

atnspsa kitten,

seriously, the amount of PDA today was too much.

N

delusions and illusions +1

2010-11-02T07:56:00.000-07:00

GP teacher,

No, I'm not conscientious. Seriously, where did that come from?

N

____

M,

You're going to be in my book, I wrote you something. When you've found yourself, come back, I will give you a copy...

No, no, hang on, I'm leaving in two years (hopefully) ... and I don't intend to come back to the country if I can help it. That means that maybe a meeting isn't going to be as easy as I thought.

Nevertheless: you, me, the written word -- it's in the future. See you then!

N

white blood cells probably in california, voting for prop 19

2010-10-30T03:29:00.000-07:00

Dear friends and family,

It's that time of the year again when my immune system takes a chutti and i'm forced to drink hot coffee (eugh. Hot coffee. There's just so much wrong with it and on SO MANY LEVELS) and cough and splutter and have even-more-than-usual Headaches of the Terrible kind.

So, this is a warning.

On the upside (and is only an upside for Aloo, I guess, because nobody else cares about whether I'm writing or not), I WROTE A POEM YESTERDAY. IT ISN'T DONE YET BUT HALLELUJAH I WROTE A POEM.

OK imma watch HIMYM now and skip out on my volunteer work (sorry kids, I don't want to make you sick too. Plus I can't really even move, random parts of my body are hurting) and pity myself.

OH, and if any of you want to Bunbury, you can come over. Pls bring cucumber sandwiches.

N

shifty

2010-10-29T07:34:00.000-07:00

to my computer desk,
WHY DO YOU SMELL LIKE COFFEE? IT'S DRIVING ME WILD. PLEASE STOP SMELLING LIKE COFFEE.

Actually, if you can start producing coffee somehow, that'd be fine too.

N

i can has working hypothesis?

2010-10-28T10:59:00.000-07:00

Dear Awilda,

I have two things to say to you. No, actually, three now that I think about it:

1. You were awesome.

2.1 You add weigh to my Hypothesis of Awesomeness, which states that if you can think of something awesome to do, it has probably already been done by someone else. Am I the first person to think such a thought? No! And that just adds to the Hypothesis of Awesome! So, anyhow, although I did not think of becoming an actual female pirate on a ship, you did it -- proving conclusively that you were awesomer than I will ever be!

2.2 In no way does this mean that I do not like the present or the future. I'm not one of those 'oh my god the past was so much better' kind of people. In the past, people died from influenza. Influenza! So, no. I'm just saying that the human race has a huge backlog, and so any originality/awesomeness should be appreciated more (seriously, people, there is some really cool new shit out there! GO OUT THERE AND LOOK AT IT BEFORE THE PEOPLE MAKING IT DIE OR KILL THEMSELVES. AND I'M NOT TALKING OF POP CULTURE, PLEASE.)

3. I want to name my kid Awilda now.

Ok bye now.

N

the flame and the flammable

2010-10-27T10:03:00.000-07:00

Daddy
by Sylvia Plath

You do not do, you do not do Any more, black shoe In which I have lived like a foot For thirty years, poor and white, Barely daring to breathe or Achoo. Daddy, I have had to kill you. You died before I had time-- Marble-heavy, a bag full of God, Ghastly statue with one gray toe Big as a Frisco seal And a head in the freakish Atlantic Where it pours bean green over blue In the waters off beautiful Nauset. I used to pray to recover you. Ach, du. In the German tongue, in the Polish town Scraped flat by the roller Of wars, wars, wars. But the name of the town is common. My Polack friend Says there are a dozen or two. So I never could tell where you Put your foot, your root, I never could talk to you. The tongue stuck in my jaw. It stuck in a barb wire snare. Ich, ich, ich, ich, I could hardly speak. I thought every German was you. And the language obscene An engine, an engine Chuffing me off like a Jew. A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen. I began to talk like a Jew. I think I may well be a Jew. The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna Are not very pure or true. With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack I may be a bit of a Jew. I have always been scared of you, With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo. And your neat mustache And your Aryan eye, bright blue. Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You-- Not God but a swastika So black no sky could squeak through. Every woman adores a Fascist, The boot in the face, the brute Brute heart of a brute like you. You stand at the blackboard, daddy, In the picture I have of you, A cleft in your chin instead of your foot But no less a devil for that, no not Any less the black man who Bit my pretty red heart in two. I was ten when they buried you. At twenty I tried to die And get back, back, back to you. I thought even the bones would do. But they pulled me out of the sack, And they stuck me together with glue. And then I knew what to do. I made a model of you, A man in black with a Meinkampf look And a love of the rack and the screw. And I said I do, I do. So daddy, I'm finally through. The black telephone's off at the root, The voices just can't worm through. If I've killed one man, I've killed two-- The vampire who said he was you And drank my blood for a year, Seven years, if you want to know. Daddy, you can lie back now. There's a stake in your fat black heart And the villagers never liked you. They are dancing and stamping on you. They always knew it was you. Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through. 12 October 1962 Sylvia Plath, Happy birthday (for all the silence in this letter, I fill each space with sighs and what-ifs. Can I verbalize the tragedy of your loss? No. Loss. Gone-forever. Never to return. Not a word, not even a thought. Let me express it in a series of silences, a tribute to you)

2010-10-22T14:40:00.000-07:00

Today I was in such a good mood ke I thought that even if I did see you, I'd throw you a huge 1000-watt smile.

That didn't happen. I saw you you saw me my good mood went bye-bye.

i wrote you another (love?) letter

2010-10-18T11:33:00.000-07:00

to all my rockstars,

I measure time not by hours and days and months, but by the length of your hair. It's stupid, it's subjective, it's strange, it's...

wait, what is it?

sometimes it makes me wistful, because you're aging, all of you's aging, and your hair just grows and grows. sometimes it makes me sad, because time's going by and there are all these gaps, all these holes in the passage of time, when I don't see you...and everytime I look back I can't account for all the time spent away from you. I try to come up with reasons and am left wondering.

It won't be long (!) till your next haircut -- I wonder if I have enough wit to keep me warm till then.

"Presently a Capuchin monkey, very clean [...] came down a tree to us [...]"

2010-10-14T19:56:00.000-07:00

H G Wells,

Seriously, what were you on when you wrote The Door in the Wall? Whatever it was, I want some of it. The story sounds very Harold and Kumar :P

N

____

...don't whine don't fight...

2010-10-12T15:03:00.000-07:00

Soil, Soil makes me want to slow-dance with you. Will you dance with me?

I stand here and wait for the answer. Take your time

N

_____

Lit teacher,
Thanks for not killing me.
N
___
Hi, you. Did you get the last few letters? Well, the one on top isn't for you anymore, I'm getting over you (wow that sounds like a euphemism! It isn't :P). So, well, yeah. BTW I named one of Nidu's kittens after you. She just texted me, "ATNSPSA and sunshine in a kitten fight!"

To tell you the truth I hope the ATNSPSA kitten whoops sunshine's ass, but not because of you. Actually, I like ATNSPSA kitten better because it heard me out when I yelled at it all the things I should yell at you. It bore it patiently. Then it climbed over me and onto the bed where there was chocolate cake. So ATNSPSA kitten (it's orange! It has three siblings, also orange! I don't know how Nidu can tell who is who but they're SO CUTE) is actually nicer than you. Yeah.

ANYHOW. I don't like you so I won't tell you any more stories.

Bye now.

N

p.s. why'd I name it ATNSPSA? BECAUSE ATNSPSA IS A SEXY NAME. IT'S THAT SIMPLE.

monday blues

2010-10-11T03:01:00.000-07:00

To anyone who has watched Fix,

Do you remember the car in Fix? That amazing black car? I want it. But I don't know what model or make it is or whatevs, I just wanna look at it...I wanna watch Fix again, too, maybe. I think I will, right after I watch House. Ugh.

N

___

Chocolate,

Listen up. Why do you have only like a tenth of the amount of caff I need, huh? Huh, huh, huh? Seriously, you should have more caffeine and coffee addicts will buy you more. Coffee's making my think of mochas now. Mocha.

N

____

Spammers, I don't want one night stands. I want coffee. FW: barneystinson@awesome.com, shanemccutcheon@alsoawesome.com

it's like the swimming pool in 90210, LOLJK it's pakistan but please come anyway

2010-10-10T03:41:00.000-07:00

Dear Silver please come to Pakistan OKTHXBAI

very confused

2010-10-09T17:15:00.000-07:00

Karma,

So. Hi there. I know that we don't talk much, which is why the universe is probably in constant imbalance. Usually people scream at you when bad things happen ... I just wanna know why all this good stuff happened to me today :|

I mean, okay, maybe it's all in exchange for how shitty I've been feeling because of You Know Who, but I feel way above and beyond my general level of dissatisfaction that I call normal behaviour.

Yes, I'm feeling happy. I met Nidu. I got hold of seven books. That shirt is fitting better. I had cake, popcorn, pepsi, additional coffee AND spaghetti. I got to skip out on the dentist. I moped about You Know Who (omg maybe you think I'm pathetic and are being nice to me as a result. YES I'M PATHETIC GO ON BEING NICE UNTIL I GET OVER YOU KNOW WHO COMPLETELY) and then got too caught up to mope any more. I am not moping currently, I am asking tinkermaster things like 'omg if a red house person marries a blue house person do the kids go to A PURPLE HOUSE?'. Life is pretty good.

My question to you is: why? Generally, I don't question good things (it goes against my views on life), but this is sort of weird.

Maybe it is you paying up for all those elevated level of shit during the past few months. But I'm better now, thanks, I'm getting along fine, I'm dealing. I'm not saying No thanks but I am saying, took you long enough -- but that delayed gratification helped me, so yeah, now's a good time.

Okay, go on doing what you're doing, maybe I do deserve nice stuff happening to me.

N

p.s. I've been asking for someone all this time and you've ignored me completely. I know that asking this is bad for me, probably is going to screw me up bad and shit. But I just feel the need to justify a huge waste of time, so EFF YOU.

Ok, I feel better now. (pause) Carry on.

dairy milk dreams

2010-10-09T02:30:00.000-07:00

So I wrote you a poem last night, because I'm tired (and afraid) of saying your name, because I'm tired (and afraid) of writing down your name, because I was sad again last night, because my mind was short of words.

The poem was about chocolates. It wasn't about your skin, though, as an underlying symbol; it was about being foolish (so, it was about me. I think, then, I was a bit inaccurate when I told you that it was about you. But it'd never have come out the way that it did without you, so it is more you than me).

Did you know I write poems? I write poems, not as much as before, though they're much better now when they do come tumbling out of my subconscious. I've written you about ten or twenty -- out of which about half will go in that book I will finish someday -- and you will never know because even then I will be too afraid to say or write your name, which is further testament to my foolishness.

Maybe someday you will read them and wonder.

trippy

2010-10-05T13:04:00.000-07:00

Dear Lit teacher,

Pls pls pls ignore pretty much all the stuff I wrote in my paper. You asked for significance and effects -- somewhere in my brain I mishmashed and wrote the significance of effects and weird shit like that. I tripped on the question, like.

I plead temporary insanity. After all, everything is futile, right? (yes, I learned that from the story. btw, it sounds distinctly postmodern, doesn't it? I felt that way. it has postmodernist themes, at least. Anyhow that is irrelevant) So my mistakes don't matter.

please don't kill me.

N

speaking from another dimension

2010-10-02T11:51:00.000-07:00

maxwell house

and the taste...it's like, right there, sitting in my mouth, and that's just good coffee, cause it doesn't do weird shit to you like nescafe.

my mind is not functioning (or is it on a much higher level? i pick higher level, i feel freeee)

i've missed this hit in so long, it had become my elusive unicorn

god, caffeine

Dear Kamila Shamsie,
I loved your book broken verses. yes, that's a very generic and boring sentence that, basically, does nothing to actually express the degree of my love for the book.

but i really don't know how to tell you the things it made me think, the feelings i had, the way it's brought about a hurricane of ideas...

maybe i will make you something and give it to you someday, as a small symbol of thanks. for what? for what you've created. i can't stand badly-written books anymore, and so i love all your books because they offer so much while being completely readable.

broken verses is just right: it's got a good plot; great lines; it's got many thoughts and ideas that stimulate the reader; although it explores many themes that have been explored before, the way you do it! it's not stale at all. it's very fresh (i thank you especially for the freshness); it's got well-formed, tangible characters; it's moving, but not overly sentimental...

you're philosophical without being pretentious -- i love that.

okay, i'm going to go now.

N
BTW THANKS FOR MAKING SHEHNAZ GAY, THAT TOTALLY MADE MY DAY (THAT RHYMES, HOW GAY IS THAT? THAT JUST ADDED ANOTHER DIMENSION OF GAYNESS. BUT SERIOUSLY, YOU MADE HER GAY WITHOUT MAKING HER LAME. LOVE.)

kung-fu deviants +2

2010-09-30T10:11:00.000-07:00

Dear World,
Please provide ME with a kickass significant other* who will break me out of a correctional facility. Please, I deserve it.
N
*if it's a ninja, even better!

Aasmani Inqilab,
Seriously? I know where this is going. If you are going to fall for Ed, I will kill you. For realz.
N

to the people in my GP class:
really truly? NONE OF YOU KNOW THE WALL? I'm still finding that hard to believe. what do you people DO with your time?

2010-09-25T07:51:00.000-07:00

Radio 89,

Thanks for playing tegan and sara last night IT MADE MY DAY.

N

_____

Centerpoint,

Go away. Seriously, try saddar because that is REALLY the center-point. You're going to look really goofy at boat basin.

N

mullet

2010-09-23T13:08:00.000-07:00

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="359" caption="Captian Planet, I love you too."][/caption]

To the girl in my school who has a mullet (and awesome glasses),

Hi. I would like to be friends with you because you are super k3wl. For realz. Mullets usually don't look good on people (unless they're t&s or kristen stewart), but you've managed to carry it off splendidly! YAY

N

the world really needed this

2010-09-22T09:20:00.000-07:00

Elmo,

I especially love you extra for this (via@autostraddle):

believe it if you want to

2010-09-20T15:42:00.000-07:00

so many people without excuse me -- thank you -- and most importantly, please ... they're all driving me insane.

____

Don't you all understand? You think it's so amazing here. It's hell. You think you can feel better about yourself by being here, being recognized. Maybe that's you, but I don't feel good. I feel angry and frustrated, I feel suffocated. I want to grab all these people and ask them, what aren't you looking at?

... you feel like you're drowning. This, this is our future! Do you see? Do you see with startling clarity that these people are going to rule over the masses?

Oh god.

N

FINALLY GETTING HERE

2010-09-18T03:54:00.000-07:00

MCR,

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

OMG NEW SONG NEW ALBUM RED HAIR COOL VIDEO THINGS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAI' AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

SO HIGH NOWWWWWW

fortunately the shrine is safe

2010-09-17T12:22:00.000-07:00

Dear World,
If you don't already read wondermark,

start doing just that. NOW.

N

eyepatch

2010-09-16T12:41:00.000-07:00

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="288" caption="holy moly."][/caption]

How ya doooooin? I think that you should've won the fight yo.

mmph

2010-09-16T00:11:00.000-07:00

goodsleep
please
come
back

senti-mental

2010-09-15T09:41:00.000-07:00

Tennyson,

I think Tears, Idle Tears sucks. I get that you were emo or whatevs, but it's just highly unoriginal and rather faaltu.

okthxbai.

N

oh, why do I even need to say these things

2010-09-13T15:51:00.000-07:00

To, basically, all those people who presume to know what's best for me:

Hi there. You have my best interests in mind, yes, I'm sure. In your little brain it might just be a really great idea, whatever it is that you think I should be doing. Why didn't you try it out for yourself, then? Don't give me your bullshit, please, save it for someone gullible/farigh/stupid.

Why am I not earning? Because I don't want to right now. Why do I not care? Because I don't have a reason to. Why do I act the way I do? Because, frankly, that's my fucking choice.

Trying to intervene is just going to make me resent and ignore you. Leave me the fuck alone. Just because you're older, or a relative, or have more "experience" does not mean that I will respect you - though I will probably think you're an idiot if you're giving me advice you can't/don't/won't follow yourself. So please, back off. I've got real people, real friends who back me and know me for who I am, not for who/what I can be moulded into. I'm happy with them, and I'd actually be more than happy if you just stop annoying me.

Don't judge me or I will judge you. Don't push me or I will push you. Don't think that I am not able to think for myself -- I do know what I'm going to do in life. What I don't know is on purpose so. And something that I'm absolutely sure about is the fact that I don't need you.

Thank you,
N

wtf^6

2010-09-12T07:34:00.000-07:00

[caption id="attachment_537" align="alignnone" width="720" caption="that's my spam queue. seriously, what is wrong with the world?"][/caption]

two words: why me?

i've been denied

2010-09-11T05:08:00.000-07:00

;

Dear Angelina Jolie,
OMGYOUCAMETOPAKISTANANDINEVER FOUND OUT!!!!!!!!!! AND IT'S BECAUSE OF THE BLOODY COMPUTER AND PTCL AND MAXCOM AND WINSOCK AND ALL THAT SHIT AND BASICALLY YOU WERE LIKE, IN THE SAME COUNTRY! AND I DIDN'T KNOW! WHATTHEFUCK.

FMLLLLLLLLL
:(

appreciation

2010-09-11T05:01:00.000-07:00

Green Day,

thanks for Jesus of Suburbia!

N

------

Dear atnspsa,

I WAS GOING TO WRITE YOU A LETTER BUT WHAT THE HELL IT'S EID! AND MY INTERNET IS WORKING! I'LL WHINE SOME OTHER TIME. EID MUBARAKKKKK.

N

the light

2010-09-11T04:50:00.000-07:00

dear saman shamsie,
i'm sorry but everytime i see you i get this PSYCHOTIC urge to go up to you and start screaming OMG YOU'RE KAMILA'S SISTERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR PLEASE GIVE ME SOME OF YOUR AWESOME PLS PLS PLS

(but I don't do that because that would be rude...and also because i'm not a psycho. although, coming to think of it, I am sufficiently obsessed with Kamila's writing + crazy enough when i've not had coffee to have a mental breakdown...but i digress)

if you see a kid around who looks like she's going to burst into a million little fangirl pieces, that'd be me.

sorry about that.