99 to 18

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In 99 days, I turn 18. While I’d like to consider it a mere number but it weirdly symbolizes the end of my life as I know it and the beginning of something so new that I don’t even know how to describe it.

I’m at  a weird stage of my life at the moment. Where I don’t know how 17 years slipped by, how 12 years of school slipped by and mostly the good part of my life. I stand at crossroads, faced with choices of going with what I wanted to learn, and what I’d like to learn. I’ve come to consider myself unknown. A Marianna trench of mystery that doesn’t know the history of itself.  A dark cloud looking for it’s silver lining.

It’s seems like time has gone by and I’ve grown too slow too late. It’s weird not to encompass in words, what one has felt for days. It’s the fear of the unknown, the fear of screwing it all up, and the fear of actually regretting that I grew up in possibly the wrong way.

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I was in conversation with my best friend today, and the general theme was how our lives generally suck and this year was the worst ever. A little background on that I’m in class 12th, the final year of my school life and in a few months I write the All India secondary something something. Essentially write the marching orders for the rest of my life. So yeah my parents, my school teachers my milk man etc are all very chill. NOT. Which just makes me want to rewind to the times when I didn’t have this pressure on my head.

And it’s not like I don’t like this pressure, it’s nice but it’s ALSO WAY TOO MUCH. How much do you expect a 17 year old to handle. Boys, Miley Cyrus, Master Chef Junior blah blah blah and remain perfect all the time. GOSH. It’s weird you know.

Going back to theme, I love-d being a teenager, wrote about it being my Salad days and stuff but suddenly it seems so so hounding. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m looking forward to what’s on the other side of my tests or maybe it’s the fact that Dix Sept is really trouble some.

To sum up, My golden days weren’t my childhood, aren’t my adolescence and may just be my adulthood.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Golden Age.”

A macro lens and the depth of emotions. (World Photography Day)

If a year ago you’d asked me what camera I used, I’d say, my front camera. Now if you were to ask me I’d say a camera. It’s a beautiful thing, photography, for you need not be an artist to share what you find beautiful in this world. You needn’t be a writer, to share the perfect blue of the skies. You needn’t even be a singer to speak of how the wind whistles through the trees.

It’s world photography day today, and I find no better day than this to show what has kept me away from rhyming schemes. It’s amazing, even crazy that I am constantly learning and evolving and truly enjoying this process.

What is also weird is the fact that I’ve started to find beauty in everything, from how the sun shines through the trees, to how the walls have the most gorgeous of textures. I’ve started noticing people better, emotions better, and in short become a better person.

Here’s what I’ll leave you with, a collection of pictures taken by me. I’d appreciate if you gave credit, if you were to share it. 🙂

Dix-Sept

An explanation, an apology letter, a rant.

Being seventeen is not easy,
Difficult an understatement.
The constant need to have a perfect persona,
For someone not even worth it.

To study more than to sleep,
To spend every living moment multitasking
To actually having to make time,
To chit chat with family

I hate seventeen,
I detest it.
I’d rather be two or even four,
Bundled in the cradle of innocence.

While I may be seventeen,
In a society that is so judging.
I constantly yearn to break free,
From the social shackles of society.

Hi Kids!

*sneaks in slowly* you may remember me, you may not but hi!

So my exams got over, the net got fixed but what remained was the mind block. A sad serious amount of it, so much that I could write, but write what anyone could write. Nothing that I personally felt deserved a blog post. Nothing I felt was good. I’ve seen people post daily, even hourly but their writing seemed forced, that spark was missing.

And what has happened to me in these few days? (Let’s call it few please *puppy dog face*)

Ummm….

  1. Tests
  2. General teenage life
  3. This school trip
  4. General teenage life
  5. This MUN where I represented Slovakia
  6. General teenage life
  7. Diwali
  8. General teenage life
  9. This Harry Potter MUN where I was Ginny Weasly
  10. More teenage life
  11. Bleh

And soon, there may a serious change in my life (nope not romantic, though I wish (joke!)) and I’m planning to incorporate that in my blogging life, though let’s see how.

and if all goes well I’ll post some photo entries soon 🙂 say tuned!

Sitara

Leaving you with picture to show how pretty the rock I live under is

The confused teenagers crappy attempts at romantic poetry.

The confused teenagers crappy attempts at romantic poetry.

IMAGINATION

I may not be of the long legs,

And the pretty hair.

But I have a nice heart,

And a good head.

I may not be hopelessly talented,

And effortlessly pretty.

But I have my way with a pen,

And that’s kinda difficult maybe.

But why can’t I do what I want,

And love who I may?

Why can’t I effortlessly be,

The girl I wish I could be, one day.

Society should be free,

Or so Martin Luther King Jr. and Nelson Mandela preached.

And yet the social constraints exist,

Binding each one of us all.

How do we break free, the question is

How do we break free at all?

Are we born into what we will be?

Into societies hierarchy?

The popular, the not so popular,

And the ones that fit nowhere.

Picture perfect loves,

Picture perfect days.

Picture perfect moments,

Are they only for a few, this day.

And I may not be perfect, perfect in your eyes,

But I have a heart.

And I one that deserves maybe a little,

What it gives.

Hopeless love, no discrimination,

And what I get back these days.

Just a wall flower, all withered and dried,

Or so in your eyes, in dismay.

(The image is sadly not mine *cries*)