I suppose three consecutive meme-only entries is quite sad, so in response to being vaguely prodded by various people for this shameful behaviour, I shall blog properly and not rely on memes that are in a way, the instant brownie mix for blog entries.

But I love instant brownie mix, and am guilty on relying on them for a quick chocolate fix. And besides, performing the miracle of adding water, oil and eggs, and popping it into the oven is such an easy way of making people happy that I just succumb. The thing is, I don’t quite understand baking. I can cook, and cook rather well – it’s more instinctive but baking!

Everytime I’ve tried baking, and have tried enough times to be able to say that I have tried, it’s been an almost-disaster and the fact that the end-product rather falls short of AMAZING just annoys me.

Like this one time out of boredom and poor mathematical skills, I baked cookies but had to reconfigure the measurements with no help from Internet conversion tables. I ended up with a disproportionately monumental amount of batter, too many cookies that took nearly more than a month to consume (and throw) and batter remnants up the mixer.

And so, I would like to extend a thank you to the fictional Betty Crocker. (Because did you know, the character was created to make the brand more friendly to the housewife consumer group. Marketing works wonders, it does.)


In the course of a conversation with a friend I have not been able to talk to properly in a long time, I, or we, realized that the problem with me is that I think people will behave the way I do and the reason for this is that my brain thinks it to be the logical thing.

What if that happens? Why wouldn’t it, that’s what I would or think I would do!

And therein lies the crux of all my paranoia. A major case in point here would be when social insecurity hits, primarily when I feel as if I have been left out. Now, in all clarity of thought, I do eventually realize that a) its usually unintentional, and b) I probably imagined the whole thing anyhow!

The reason why I get so paranoid that people (who matter a lot to me) are drifting away, and perhaps, don’t care for me as much as I do for them is because the truth is, I am guilty of this. On the ridiculous basis that because I somehow can and have easily distance and detach myself from friends, others can and will too. That suddenly we’re not so close anymore, and you won’t mind – because as cruel as it may be, I’m like that, too often when a friendship starts drifting.

It’s definitely not nice, and I do feel guilty at times but that doesn’t negate the fact that it comes easily for me. So people who have been my friends, and still are my friends for these past few years – inner circle people, inner circle.

And the terrible irony is that it would kill me if you do to me what I’ve been consistently doing all this while.

I don’t even know why I’m telling everybody this. Exhibitionism is a masochistic thing – it’s as if I want you to know how ugly I am. Not because I want you to by reflex, deny my convictions; I don’t think assurance from people is what I’m looking for. It’s crazy but I think I just want you to know: look, I’m a horrible person. It’s not because I’m proud of it, which is a disturbing and discomforting thought because it’s too alike to attention-seeking teeniegoths displaying their penknife scratches.

I’m dissecting myself in front of you because I want you to know me.
isn't it why you read this blog, after all?