Where i will be in ten years (my mother is making me write this)

In ten years? Come on, be realistic. i don't know where i'll be tomorrow, let alone in ten years.
I do know where i WANT to be though.
It's shallow, i warn you.
In ten years i will have won the lottery, and will still be in bed. Because, you know, i don't have to work. At all.
Because i'll be rich =D
Richer than you.
*...my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard...*
Well anyway. That's the plan. To be incredibly rich.
*ponders*
But that might get boring.
*...and they're like, it's better than yours...*
Maybe I'll baby sit in my free time, and give the kids money if they stay away from me.
*...damn right, it's better than yours...*
Yeah.
Or I'll be a housewife! I'll wear one of those cute little aprons, and make jam.

Right, of course I'm kidding. I'm so incredible, we may as well put my wonderfulness to good use.
Since I'm SO full of raw talent. *nods wisely*

So in ten years...

*wanders away*

Well, it's tomorrow. And I'm no different from who I was yesterday. I'm still the same old me, the me I've been since I can remember.
No, I don't change.
Do you?
Will you be someone else tomorrow? On my way home, maybe I'll drop in and check.
But I wouldn't count on it. Because I'll still be me. And sometimes, I forget.

Today, I won't reply to your messages. I won't pick up the phone when you call. Today, I'll forget to say I love you, and I won't remember that I should, in case I don't get a chance to tell you tomorrow.
Today, I'll pretend I don't have a future. I'll pretend that forever is just a word. That there is no tomorrow, no next Saturday, no next month. Today, I'll eat all the chocolate I've been saving for a bad day, even though I know things could be worse.
Today I'll be selfish and take a bubble bath, even though you are alone and want company. Today, I'll eat the last piece of pizza even though I know I should save it for you.
But that's just who I am today.
Tomorrow?
If you're still here tomorrow, I'll try to be different. For you.

College is driving me crazy. And I'm not even there yet. Do these essays ever end? Well, of course they do. Otherwise when would the letters of recommendation start (not that anyone's too keen to recommend me, if you want my opinion)? You want anything else? A list of books I read over the past year? Oh yes, I have it right here with my pressed flowers and library bills, along with every other absolutely useless piece of garbage that I keep. A letter from my employer? Sure, he'll be only too happy write one. Especially since I had a crush on his son and never went back after my holidays last October. You can't have expected me to. I have a life.
College administrators clearly have a hard time understanding this. They, of course have no way of knowing senior year is the last year you get to spend with your friends. How do they know you're loth to spend your last days of so called childhood behind the counter at a drug store? They were never teenagers, they never had lives.

Navya: These mallus are barbaric.
Neethu: These brahmins...
Navya:...will never change. The upcoming brahmins are slut-cum-girls.
Mrs. Gopinath: Go go!
Navya: Rombo pandre.
Neethu: Shut up.
Navya: Can i call you chechee from today?
Neethu: Call me cheta.
Navya: Okay.
Mrs. Gopinath: This is regarding some of the ingredients in the story.
Madz: Arre yaar! [you did not understand me]
Navya: Pussy.
Mrs Gopinath: Suspense has been created.
Navya: Adithya and Jahnavi sitting in a tree...
Mrs Gopinath: At least you know what you're looking for and where you're looking for it.
Navya: We connected each other with wires, we threatened to turn the circuit on, we drew a graph and we came.
Mrs Gopinath: The corrupting power of money.
Navya: She's insulting you bittu!
Madz:
Navya: Screws
...
up
...
baah

If you do a spell check on 'gopinath' it tries to change it to 'opinionated'. How ironic.

John 10:10/Children

Children: devilish fiends put on this earth only to steal and kill and destroy. Like the thief? John 10:10.
Okay, maybe they're not that bad.
Scratch that. They totally are.
But let me explain. My family has thoughtlessly invited an absolute drove of guests whose names I won't mention here, for as far as I can see the sole purpose of feeding them birthday party food which is until further notice denied to me, and they've brought the three most angelical cherubs having the most seraphic countenances with them.
Not.
Their idea of fun, as far as they have demonstrated, include scratching my wooden staircase with the most hideous shoes I have ever had the misfortune to lay eyes upon, peering owlishly at me (they might as well ASK what I'm doing, for the amount of discreetness they display) and staring at my "Yo soy mas bonita que los otros" sign as if it's Greek.
Its Spanish.
My point is that they have yet to prove they have even one redeeming quality, thereby proving my thesis that children are, in fact, completely useless.
Put on this earth to "steal and kill and destroy", as ol' John likes to say.
Although I'm not sure he was talking about children. Whatever. He said "the thief", and that's totally open to misinterpretation. I'm sure even if he DID mean, well, Satan, he probably realized in retrospect what a mistake he had made. Children are far, far, worse.



No insult intended. The thesis is party to some exceptions, just like the solubility chart.

SMUN

I am SO ANNOYED. They're talking about PIG FAT. Who CARES about PIG FAT? NO ONE, that's who. Least of all ME. I really don't give a crap about SMUN. I would've bunked if i had known they were going to pack us into the audi all day. Like rats. PACK rats. With straw. Okay, there's no STRAW but it's almost as bad, I'm foodless and without aim. Without driving purpose, except to finish this kachori in stealth. Which is proving near impossible because Mrs. Lali is LOOKING at me. Doesn't she have someone else to stare at? Somewhere else to be?
Ooh, Delegate of France. I like the way he talks. He's the one who likes Sonal. Karen* has worn capris and come. To a MUN. With WHITE FLATS. Dude, she needs a costume manager. Most of these people are so fashion impaired.
Some 11th standard is getting belted by Urvashi for bringing her phone. I hope she CRIES. The Delegate of India has such a horrible voice. Like the Delegate of Switzerland, can't public speak to save her life. And the roof of my mouth is burning thanks to that guava smelling kachori.
Boring, boring, borinnng. This auditorium smells like FEET. I wonder where Urvash has gone? Leona's speaking now. She's Delegate of Vietnam.
Shelby*'s just gotten up and LEFT. Ayshu says you can't do that. She look so horrible, she's wearing some black thing over some red thing and it's so TIGHT, she's so FAT, it's just oozing out. Doesn't she look at herself everyday and realize?
This auditorium smells so bad, it's going to make me puke. Look at Koyal. She's wearing flats, but she looks nice. Delegate of France! Yay! I'm sleeeeeepy. Now Karishma's also belting the 11th standard. And Nikhat. Karishma's sitting with us, even though she's 'Dep. Sec. Gen.'. Can't they switch on the AC? It's so musty and airless.



*name changed to protect privacy

Chem class...again

I love writing. It's sort of like thinking but it feels more productive because you're actually doing something and it's not completely uncontrollable, like thoughts are, so you can make it go where you want to as opposed to being a victim of abstract musings.
Not that I'm good at it. Quite the contrary. I just write to fill space and time (like chemistry class) and end up with some of my less random thoughts down on paper. Sometimes there's a flow. Mostly there isn't. I'm random, like vh1.
Class is really really boring. Until a couple of minutes ago there were these little kids screaming murderously under our windows, but i think they too have been sucked into the dark abyss which is their classroom and it is too quiet. There is honestly nothing to do.
I wonder what it's like to be a star. It must be kind of lonely. I mean it's a vacuum. Apart from the stray meteor there probably isn't a lot going on up there. People mostly forget that you exist.
Must kind of suck.
On the other hand you can spy on everyone without them realizing you're there.
My chemistry teacher is talking about the pathos of cancer patients. This is really terribly boring. I wish i had a blackberry. I wish i was a star.

Honors & APs

I realize it is not requisite that i write this. Not in the way that it is requisite that I take two subject tests and the APs. The APs! Who even does the APs? Only the people who do the APs do the APs. And I am so not a person who does the APs. Even though 'APs' sounds kinda cool. I actually thought I would do honors in the beginning. I was so innocent and naive. But 'honors' sounds kinda geeky, as opposed to APs. "I did the APs" means "I'm cooler than you". "I'm an honors student" roughly translates into "I'm so smart I'm only semi-human and the only perk to my existence is that I live in the fanciest building on campus". And sometimes, even if you DO create alternative to plastic in your free time and advocate Linux (come ON. It's called windows?) you still don't get the best dorms. I mean have you ever heard of an honors student in suite style? Sometimes you have to live with your professors. Which wouldn't be so bad if you were like, a C-, but if you're doing honors it means that your professors are even less human than you are and are also probably Nobel Prize winners and speak in morse code. Which means interaction with them is strictly banned socially. Not that honors students follow social norms. Though when you're busy cloning fruit flies on your side of the dorm room you probably don't have the time to commit a faux pas. And if you did, none of the other fruit-fly-cloning aliens would notice anyway. What a way to live. People who are smart enough to do honors should just...move to Mars and blow each other up, and make life easier for all of us. Not that the rest of us aren't smart! It's just, not everybody loves calculus. But the plastics probably research alternatives to carbs. Probably. And I read Lemony Snicket. Just because he keeps explaining words like 'gentle' and 'high pitched' doesn't mean his books aren't intellectual(and they totally ruined it with that movie). They're cryptic. They require a certain depth to be understood. A depth that I was born with, but which you probably don't have. Don't fret. You're probably bereft of many of my finer qualities.