Clear Up Post!

Gonna start by saying it's a beautiful day. Why? God knows. Just feel good. The tan's just about right, hair's growing perfectly wild (awesome!), the stubble's perfect, bod's doing wonders...

Really, the mirror makes or breaks my day. I depend a whole lot on it. Lol.

Anyway, I usually write for myself. Aah, who am I kidding... I love being read (and I absolutely adore being hated, or disliked). But I mostly write what I feel like writing and don't give a good lord shit about what the world would think about it.

Right now, I'm writing to tell you that I am not unhappy. Because that's what apparently most people are thinking.

Some say my blog's "disturbing". Another one, with vigourous up and down movements of his hand referring to my blog was asking me, If I was "(mentally) ok" and that he was concerned about me.

Now listen's' this verry carefully I shall say this only once. I DO NOT regret the position I am in, or who I am or the actions I make. I am very happy. Well, it's up and down, like it is with everybody. But generally, I ain't as down in the dumps as I make it out to be.

In short, I am a bastard. I inflict emotions on myself, pretend, to the extent that I believe it, so that I can write... write honestly with all my heart. I love writing. And like I said, I love being read.

I give you what you want to read.

What I write is not untrue... but yes, in a way, I overdo it, I dramatize it to explain it more clearly. Probably that's why most writers are misunderstood. When they try to explain things clearly we interpret it too deeply and say, "Oh fuck... that guy had lost it man. He was sooo sad."

Not true.

Get the point?

In my second book, which was an out and out mushy sad love story, I coulnd't write coz I couldn't feel the love. I needed that pain, needed that emotion to do justice to the story I was about to write.

Stunningly, a door opened on its own, and I walked inside. I made myself fall so deeply in love that the 12-day affair ended in an absolute disaster (for me). And so deeply did I acknowledge to myself that I was in love that I believed it.

I got my book. I wrote it in the next one month. The entire thing. And if you read it, there are a few (quite a few actually) dialogues in it that actually happened... words that were actually spoken.

I overdo all emotions, just to feel them more clearly, to look different, so that I can see the world looking at me and I can see what their faces say. This could be a little confusing for you...

I am a great actor. I just pretend... a lot. Honestly, I have no idea who I am coz I have changed so many personalities, so many identities.

I am just a writer. Always Always looking for a plot. Always. A plot that is real. And for it to seem real, I have to make it real... in real life. And then write about it.

For example... there was this book I was writing called "Maya" - it was a girl's name. One day she said something astonishing to me. What she said to me that day was supposed to be the end of the book: "I don't love you Rohit."

A perfect ending I thought.

But I never was able to finish that book... because that wasn't the last thing she said to me. I could have made it into a fiction story. But I don't like it that way. I wouldn't have written it with all my heart... with all my passion. I like my plots to actually happen the way I wrote them. Or write them the way they actually happened.

I make things happen. I say things I want to say, to make you say what I want you to say.

So stop taking me so seriously.

Even right now...

Remember... nothing is what it seems.