Diary Of A Lame Girl.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hey guys! So yesterday was a bad day for me and I was stormy. So the following incident is a true and exact narration of  how things turned out for me when I tried to tackle my turmoil. Hope you don’t mind me writing such episodes of my life and boring you all. Because damn, does it feel good to get your feelings out in the open. Do tell me what you thought of it. Love you 🙂

So I had a really rough evening yesterday, and I didn’t know how to combat with the pain and anger I felt over the person responsible for it. I eventually slept over it, listening to some One Direction (I don’t care if you don’t like them, they are my life) and nursing my seething and broken heart.
The morning brought rain with it and having read some Tumblr quotes like ‘Let The Rain Wash Away The Pain Of Yesterday’, I couldn’t wait to get drenched in it. But my actions are ruled by my mother’s permission and we just had had a fallout recently and whilst I made up my mind whether to ask for her permission or not, the intensity of the rain lessened and also did the Tumblr-y scenarios in my head.
When I finally got to the terrace, the rain became more or less a drizzle. Stepping carefully on the wet floor, trying not to bash my head in, I got another wonderful idea. The rain combined with my inner turmoil due to yesterday’s happenings would make a good blog post. I only had to figure out how some of my fellow writers got their thinking machine to form wonderful metaphors to disguise their pain and got inspiration from something like lightening and thunder; because all lightening and thundering did to me was scare me out of my wits’ end and shake my fist at the guy Up There for scaring me.
I looked all around me from the terrace and tried to gain some inspiration and form the words and phrases which would constitute of my next, BIG, blog post. But all I could manage to do was stare into the distance and mentally shoot the person who was the reason behind all of this. ‘Pow pow pow’ went my little gun and suddenly, I found myself in the company of a crow. 15 minutes gone and I was only partly drenched and the crow was shooting me looks. After a 5 minute stare fight, he flew away knowing that he had better things to do than stare at a 15 year old, who did not have anything better to do than stare a crow. I tried to gain some ‘inspiration’ from the now flying crow before I realized how stupid I was being. Surely, ‘And as she suffered from the pain, the crow with it’s magnificent cawing and exquisite, deep black feathers, was the beacon of hope that signalled with every passing moment, everything would be okay tomorrow’ wouldn’t work. I tried to work up a jingle, and I got out a good tune but only when did I sing out the words, I cancelled the plan of singing my own song, a cliched mess, and becoming the next YouTube sensation. I sounded like a dying walrus with a sinus infection.
Sigh. This was turning out to be really unsuccessful and things got even worse when my dog entered the scene. He was positively taunting me with his lolling pink tongue and that little, sneaky rascal purposely got wet in the rain and shook off all of his water over me.
So, now fuming and in an even worse condition than before, I set off for home, having accomplished nothing.
Now as I recount my true story to you people, nursing a slight cold, I realise that forging fancy words into metaphors and drawing inspiration from nature’s happenings isn’t my forte. Mentally shooting people is.

-Kimaya Ingale.


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