No. This is not a blog post, definitely not about ways of getting a job. If you came here with that thought in mind, then you are in for a huge disappointment.
Sometimes, I wonder. Okay, I wonder a lot of times. But sometimes I wonder why did I start blogging? Why bother writing for a few people to read? People who probably just scroll down the page without even trying to understand my deep emotions (:'( ). People who probably open the page only to realise that it’s some uber philosophical rant of a 19 year old who-
1) is on a break for too long and is slowly losing her mental stability;
2) didn’t get an internship during the summers;
3) has too much free time; and,
4) has unlimited access to the net (how f’ing cool is that?).
[Side note: No, I don’t usually use the F word. Not publicly, at least]
In order to fulfil the commitment of writing one post per week, here I am, sitting in my brothers’ room as my grandmother snores in mine, trying to write. Write something. I have been having this brainstorming session with myself for an hour now and I notice that my thighs have become hot.
Because of the laptop, of course.
I tried bribing my brain for ideas. The sad thing is, I was not successful. I thought, hey, why not just begin writing and see where it leads me. With that thought in mind, I wrote about my love for Breaking Bad, but then realised that no one will understand my intimacy and passionate attachment with it, so I backspaced about 300 words and began writing on a fresh page. I started to write a poem about a sadistic little girl that dies a horrific death by her own hand and then feasts on her flesh, but then was disgusted by own thoughts. I realised that I would lose all my friends if I ever complete and publish it. Backspace came to my rescue, again. I wanted to write about the time when I met Jeffrey Archer (who, I believe, is one of the most amazing novelist alive) and how I discussed Bollywood movies with him (how cool am I?). Decided against the bragging.
Frustrated by my futile attempts to write, I got up and made tea for myself. When my phone pinged, I forgot about the tea and started texting. After an hour of useless talks about:
1) Nick Bateman (follow that dude on instagram);
2) world problems;
4) my very irrational yet very serious crush.
I then made a cup of tea only to be pleasantly surprised to find a cup of tea already sitting at the bed side. Wait, did I keep it there?! Another side note, I also did an in depth study about female castration. Don’t ask why, I don’t have an answer.
Now, I am going to list down all the things that I could be doing instead of writing this:
2) working on a research paper;
4) cleaning my room;
6) working on my documentary;
8) preparing a speech for a workshop; and,
9) you don’t get points for guessing this, studying
So you see, as I said before, this is not a blog post. It’s a 619-word rant of a hormonal teenager (technically, I am an adult). And you, my friend, just wasted 5 mins of your life reading 3 useless lists and seeing two pictures which does not concern you.
But hey, you are jobless anyway, wasting 5 mins shouldn’t bother you.
I will now go back to wasting time.
Please don’t kill me.
Thanks for reading.
Ps. I think I really like making lists.