Grey

How strangely affected it leaves me, every time something so dramatic happens. On one hand i think, poor Cristina this is really sad, on the other I feel like telling Meredith that dude Shepard is your guy. I liked it, liked it quite a bit. The endings especially, every time i wait for that. Words of wisdom from Ms. Grey! And after all Burke had to fall short, to none but himself. But Shepard was the worst hit, wonder what he'd do now. Poor Meredith and Cristina, oh how can i forget George! Alex is nice, he likes Izzie. Its quite cute.
Its silly but I like it, I don't know why but I like the whole alternative world it creates for me. And therefore am no more afraid of blogging about how TV affects me because I don't care, don't care of what people think. Cause to me the alternative world is as real as the "real" one. And just because no one can see that am living it, doesn't mean its any less important. I love it all. Meredith, Shepard, Cristina, are as much a part of my life as much as Me, my friends and my family.
And so this night I must say that am enveloped by thoughts and taken over by variety of feelings. All for good because when i feel, I exist.

No one likes poor Jimmy. Except...me!

Its quite strange how of all the people i ended up liking Jimmy. Enough to even surprise me! Lord! This is blasphemous i know, but there is something about Jimmy that makes me like him unlike all. Maybe its because the uncanny resemblance between the two of us. But its not just Jimmy I think am also a little bit of Alison, bit of Cliff. But definitely not Helena. Maybe thats cause she is the villain in my head and hence i'd refrain from drawing parallels. No, but i genuinely think am not Helena.
I believe, we all are anything but uni-dimensional and everyone has just about a million "I"s to their self. Or maybe its just an attempt of mine to say that even though i see the link between Jimmy and me, I still have another side to me which will compunsate for this one. Maybe, dont know.
Something i could really relate to was the trivia in the play. Trivia works really well for us and yet we call it "trivia". How ironic is that? But at times I hate Jimmy, I hate him to the extent that i hate to accept that there is some part of me which is like him. Mr. Osborne has got this girl in quite a spot but i liked his play. For God sake am blogging about it, it obviously needs to hold some significance!
Somehow i feel i understand Jimmy, understand why he behaves the way he does; but then again somewhere he betrays that thought. But the angst he reflects is very real, i feel it is. And i think to myself that all the bastards who say they see angst in my writing, should be slapped but maybe am also all talk. After all if i really wanted i could just do the real job than write about it. I regret that and I hate regretting in general.
I feel I haven't been able to sum up my feelings on the subject of the parallelism between Jimmy and me. But this could be reflective of the sub-conscious taking over the conscious and making me avoid the undesirable to be exposed. Hahaha....the more i write the more confusing it gets. But I shan't just priviledge Jimmy, Alison and Cliff are in me as well.
Something i hate about Jimmy is that he makes pregnancy seem like a disease..."that bulge below her belly..." I find that grotesque. Also Unlike Jimmy, I think am more asexual than sexual like him....or maybe not and i just dont know of it. Wow! am amused at my self discoveries!
Alison and Jimmy make the perfectly hopeless couple and thats what i like about them. I really liked the play and i feel if i dont't stop this will go on. forever. and we'll get on to waiting for Godot!

Lost

Once i wrote "Man and the concept of momentariness", dint think it'll happen to me.
For today i suddenly find that i cannot any more write.
Its quite devastating really and makes me feel utterly helpless.
I try to write, i try to draw but it all halts after a certain point.
Seems like slow sweet poison that has entered my veins and paralysed my senses.
Am turning blue, i know i am.
Every time i look into the mirror i see a numb face, i see a frozen smile, i see a painted blush but no matter how much i try the numbness never leaves, the face never cries.
I don't know if i am under some spell or is it just my mind.
All i know is that i cannot write, and that makes me dead.