A flock of pigeons.

pigeons INDEED.

you want some context? let me oblige you.

Ive had a major development in the IT area after I left high school. I got my nerdy-outlet cutoff and i needed more kinda of rules as an "arts" major. I adopted lifehacker as a go-to and wondered how hard it would be to learn code and try to make a minecraft mod. but life gets in the way and im drawn away from rules of all of that and put in an exam room where i have to write an open ended essay and provide "personal response".

I dont like being personal all too often. Sure, I have a blog where i rant and rave and whatnot but i dont delve, per se. sometimes i dont want to substantiate a personal opinion, although i will if required.

when it comes to relating to people, i worry about being too honest because i dont want to lie, but i dont know whats appropriate. a newer friend of mine told me i was an attention seeker. this was after i made a conversation out of a comment of a classmate. apparently thats not what people do. nor was i supposed to say thank you to the bag guy twice not to mention i was "too loud".

rules i lived under apparently dont apply to the real world.

i like talking to people i can talk to. and finding those people is... in a word? difficult. i am loud. it might be because i spend a lot of time at home and get excited when i do talk. or my earbud wearing (the music headphoney things) has finally started to make me deaf. and i admit that i worry that what i say wont be heard, and no point saying something to someone that they cant hear.

i have been raised with my Ps and Qs well in check. You say thankyou. You tell the cabdriver to have a good day. And i do attempt eye contact where appropriate.

So. Wheres the connection to the pigeons? Have some personal response.

I dont understand people too often. When i was younger and spent a lot of time at the busstand in the afternoons, waiting for and in the namadi heights bus. that was the time the pigeons would flock as would the people. i would switch between the two to watch them. i understood neither how the groups of people formed nor why the pigeons made the shapes they did. they just did.

im getting to the point where i guess i have people i kind of get, some more than others. we dont always have the same rules of living, so i guess people will never to organised enough to do that bird synchronised thingy. wait, dancers sortve do that... and flashmobs... and people who do action choruses...

anyway i broke my analogy about human diversity. overall message? lets be ourselves... and can someone explain people to me someday? also- i applaud people who can dance. i cant. personal responses end here.

stay frosty :)

Diwali!

So, I just came back from celebrating Diwali. I was okay, with food and fun, and fireworks of course, but it was full of adults. With some adults were children, but the oldest child would have been 11, apart from myself of course. 17 is an evil age because you're ever so close to the age of maturity and legal adulthood, but you're still a year away.
it drives me crazy.
I dislike it.
And so on and so forth.
So had a bit of a freak out earlier because i got thinking about my grandfather's funeral. When i was 12, my mother's father died. I remember that day. I got taken from school and there was a while of the house being full of weeping old women who i hated. They were random women i had never met before and they were crying about my grandfather. The nerve of some people, i thought. I remember the funeral. The open casket. I didnt go up to it. I was terrified. I tried so hard not to cry.
I remember going back to school and getting told by a very fat classmate that i had no right to wear a black ribbon because it had only been my grandfather. ONLY? Apparently you only got to wear a black ribbon if your parent or sibling died according to her. The cow.
Later on, my father passed away and I didnt wear a black ribbon. I thought it was stupid. Why should i display what had happened? I wasnt happy about it, and it wasnt something i wanted to flaunt. I remember the day of his funeral too. Sickly sweet smelling flowers, and the weeping, wailing women i had never met before. I didnt cry much, or at least I tried my hardest not to. I went to the service and read a passage from the bible. I was being watched by my entire class and tens of people i didnt know. I felt so angry. Daddy hated church. I felt so scared. I didnt know these people. I felt so alone. My mother was overseas. I felt so sad. I didnt have a dad anymore.
I was told today that a friend had just seen his grandfathers funeral. He said that when i understood how he felt i knew more about him. Nothing else matters. I felt so honoured. I'm hardly confided in. when i am, the thing is usually serious. I felt bad that i could be there next to him when he said it. A hug was called for but he was in front of his PC and me, mine. Emotion was so heavy i felt like crying. Memories are everywhere and its bad to hold them back.
On a lighter note, i love fireworks. They go boom boom crack! Yep. Kbai.