Confession to my confetti

Confession to my confetti


“I have italicized my favorite lines from this blog :)” – lalahang

Its 10:45 pm over here and all of these people chattering in my sitting room about their New Year resolutions got me thinking about the fact that it’s been almost a year now since we first met with some lame flirtation technique bored out of me during my vacations.

So, my new year’s resolution is not to make you my security blanket to wrap around whenever things get a little bit intense on my real life.

Not anymore because my real life composes with you.

I guess I was lonely back then. I was in a very queer phase of my life. I was turning 17 the adulthood-ness was being understood but not making sense which was highly agitating me.
It was so selfish of me to rant about me, me and me all the time while you just listened to me patiently. Honestly, all I wanted was ears that would genuinely listen to my affections, boasts, achievements, goals, regrets and sexual jokes because I was numb for a long long time. But you are so much more than listening ears to me. Your patience and solicitousness tore down all the walls that were stopping me from feeling all the kinds of good shit and bad shit.
Felt like I was 14 again with a jolt in my heart covered with fresh passion. I wasn’t looking at those happy people and pretending to be one of them.

Because I truly was happy.

I know it is sooo weird to still look up to you and expect you to relate to my stupid mood swings and emotional roller coaster but I guess I have a tendency of finding my way to you some how.

I have never had such a great feeling of gratitude for anyone in a long time and I guess we are at the point of our friendship (friends zone excluded) whatever-ish where we just have stopped to expect gibberish stereotypical crush stuffs. No wait re-phrase it is more over like, “where I just have stopped to expect…………”

The thing I am tryna say here is that you are the person that ignites that fire inside me and yet I still have to decide how the hell I am labeling this kind of feeling.

Spoiler alert: No it isn’t love! LOL so don’t scream or.. or run away.

But I guess this is turning into something better than just some stupid basic relationship. I mean I don’t know about you but I definitely am sure I really really do like you and eerrmmm and if you would have liked me back than we could have had a small quiet world of ours! But it is not the truth. Even if it would have been the truth than we had to kneel down against the long distance monster and things would have been messier.

Let’s just say I expect everything yet nothing from you. It is just indescribable in terms of words. I guess you just need to know that you have been soo unconventionally good to me. You didn’t run away from my queerness, you dealt with my unrealistic ego, you kept hanging out with me because you exactly knew my social life was similar to kylie’s lip fulfilled from outside but fake ass from inside.

I don’t usually say this but “I miss you so much” and I know I can do nothing about it because I simply cannot. There is no specific reason for my disability and I don’t want to grasp on the straw of any false hope so I just try to just let it go sometimes, well most of the times and I am frustrated with the amount of failures.

No, I don’t want a committed relationship with you but all I want from you is to look me in the eye and say me that you like me like I like you! Damn that sounds soo fucked up tho! I feel like I am caught up in a tornado because at the end of the day I go to sleep with out any conclusions on my hand which is the worst feeling of all! But then again

Do I even want conclusions?

“All I ask is
If this is my last night with you
Hold me like I am more than just a friend
Give me a memory I can use
Take me by the hand while we do
What lovers do”

Unquestionable answers

Unquestionable answers

Dear hope,

Why do I keep myself in delusion? Why am I letting you win over me?

I won’t deny the fact that you make me insanely happy even though you have constantly bruised me, tore me apart but at the end of the day I find myself standing by your side just for that one fleeting moment of ecstasy.

You say that your happiness is my happiness. But do I really believe in you? You always tend to be that optimistic ray of sunlight that can turn a deserted road into road side buffet party with two rainbows in the sky. You always manage to see the light that’s been trying so hard to be seen underneath all the darkness surrounds me.

So, you show me an open door; Put a band aid on my wound.                                                       Eventually, things just start to get a little bit better!

You slam the door on my face and the realization hits me hard that the band aid was never mine to stick with me.

It’s funny how people shatter our hopes and we shatter theirs in complete absence of our deepest consent. We all know the truth that it wasn’t done on purpose but the irony is, it hurts like it was.

Dear Hope, you are the work of exhaustion and I am just done with you. I have realized no matter how alone I am you just don’t care.

And Dear Hope, I really do hope that you won’t ask me to have faith because every time I do so I am dragged again back down to the point of zero. This crushes my heart by itself a little bit and I don’t how many pieces I have left.

So, I am not giving up on working on myself less lonely. It is something that I’ve always done and I will always do. But dear Hope don’t ask me to hold on to you because hope hurts and I don’t wanna hurt anymore.

Yours sincerely,



“I’m giving it my all                                    

 But I’m not the guy you’re taking home          

                 I keep dancing on my own”

Body Say

Body Say

“Let’s not put a label on it
Let’s keep it fun
We don’t put a label on it
So, we can run Free”- Tove Lo

Never knew anyone can be so caught up in unattainable and unobtainable. You are every opposite thing that I stand for or what I find attractive in women. You are nothing like my expectation but I dare say you got some temptation. I mean we’ve been friends for quite a while but never knew about this tension between us that I lately have been discovering. Never knew my heart could beat this faster, never knew your finger tips felt this good on my lips. Lately, I love those intentional sneaks of dry humps as we pass across our way through narrow hallways. Even the touch of your damp sweaty hands! I know that is supposed to be gross but I think we are past the point of anything at this point.
My brain tries to wake me up constantly but I ignore everything just to hear the moans slipping out of your mouth.
I love when you grab my hand and take to your genitals. I love when you make bold moves. I love bold women, that is the only common thing you have among my likeables in women but we connect so well. Your thighs over mine, your breath on my neck. Damnn you are so vulnerable yet such a power house. No, we are not this person; we just can’t act this way. I know this isn’t right but I never felt something bad this right. As much as I love to throw you into one of those bathroom stalls. Tear our clothes until we are just wearing our skin. Kiss every inch of your body. Make you moan, scream, call my name. Never been in the hold of someone whose power is unknown. But we are just keeping it hush even within ourselves because this isn’t right for long run. So, let’s get over it. How do we get over it?

Trying to fill meaning into those “Three Empty Words”

Trying to fill meaning into those “Three Empty Words”

(this blog’s narrative is from a dear friend of mine who is in a long distance)

I push my black braid ponytail off my shoulder, jingling the tiny jade and gold beads woven through it. My hair looks pretty all smooth and straight so does the beady necklace HE sent me last month. I wear it everyday like it is my pride. In fact, it is my pride. He really knows how to show affection it is just one of those many things to fall in love with him. He is the kind of guy who belongs on the cover of a romance novel.

I still remember how I fell for him; He is soo tall like, basketball tall, with shoulders wide enough to block any jump shot. But no star athlete would wear that haircut though. His brown eyes sparkles with more intelligence that you’d think at first glance, as if he knows what he looks like in that too-fancy-for-just-school air max shoes. That one look at him made my whole life fall in line. We dated, witnessed each other go through things and we fell in love. Yeah, it was magical. It was a turbulent roller coaster of great memories and fights accompanied with strolling on the streets, watching movies and spooning on the bed after that, leaning on for that first kiss with first ‘I love you’. It was so passionate what would I ask for more?

These days my morning ritual is to observe my reflection in the mirror making weird faces from prune to pout, and filtering it through snapchat & send it to HIM Because he is half way across the globe away from me for past few months. We have nothing common left anymore and I guess pictures are easier than words. No doubt I love him more than anything but sometimes there is so less to speak during boring/ awkward sessions of long distance. When we can’t communicate I just reminisce our days together. I mean what else can I do to cherish my moments when my permanent residency is on sorrowful land of studying?
Good things tend to end at some point. I still recall that moment when he said he was leaving soon enough for abroad. I should have ended things right away because no one deserves to be in the place where we are right now BUT I stayed with him and he stayed with me because I didn’t want to let him go. He was by far the best thing ever happened to me in 16 years of my life. I got to love him and that was the best thing I could ever ask for. I knew from very beginning that he was just like one of those cotton candies that would disappear at one moment but still I insisted myself to stay and lay in his arm! Multiple nights passed away and time flew by our hands but we couldn’t get over making each other warm. I never wanted to bid him goodbye on that airport, I never wanted to take our last picture with his hand wrapped around my side belly. I envy those girls who get to stay with their significant other and I also envy those girls who have had break ups! I mean they all got a closure! They are just done with their relationships unlike me. I am just running on a never resting treadmill.

It is not that we didn’t try to keep up the pace with our relationship but long hours on cellular telephones and virtual hugs are not the best alternatives once you start missing you partner’s smell, touch, hands, and basically everything. That one piece of us that has slightest tendency towards paranoia works as the cheery on the top of disaster. So, heartaches are probably obvious. It is just one of those half understood, half reacted stuffs. At some point it just gets out of control from our grasps. The worst part is we aren’t even able to decide if that feels wrong or right and we just don’t care enough to fight. So, at the end of the day we act like we still love each other just so we can go on with life!

Because there is nothing to hold onto anymore.

I miss him so much. I want him around all the time like I am addicted to him. I don’t want to be alone. He asked me to keep a piece of his heart and make it all my own and trust me I am trying to!! I am not usually like this. I always have been that strong girl and I am still that girl! It’s just that the subconscious part of my mind decides to wake up sometimes! I am usually not afraid but being alone sometimes is too much to handle! I can feel my focus slipping out of my hands and my brain just switches off! It’s like I have fallen under the deep hole of depression and I don’t see it ending any time soon. Sometimes it gets a little too much and it just doesn’t seem I am doing very well to lift the weight of my heavy heart!

We both know communication plays vital role in the relationships especially long distances. But with all the hectic schedules it just can’t be possible some days, well most of the days. Being honest, I fear so much of being relevant with the truth about not feeling passionate in his love anymore that I prefer to keep this topic alone some where in my mind untouched with the deepest thought. I didn’t ask for it because I wanted it rather I am worried, scared about the pain it brings with it. What if I realize that I can’t do it anymore? What if I learn that I am actually being needy and I don’t have the privilege to obliterate that kind of feeling? What if I didn’t want to lean on his love? What if it all falls apart? Can I survive that kind of honesty even with myself? Losing love is like losing an organ, it is like dying but the only difference is that death ends but this thing. It could go on forever and ever.

It is just one of those topics I think about most of the times. I know this might turn into some toxic thing; it might as well be easier to end this because the situation is tangled up like those necklaces on the bottom drawer of closet. But I am a strong girl; Circumstances must try harder to get me out of this mess that we have made! No, I might not be able to shrink the distance between us but I can be patient and untangle our issues. I can work through this because I am stubborn as fuck and I believe on my individualism. I love him and I love myself too. These pessimistic feelings might come in my ways once in a while but I can’t let some stupid feelings to decide our relationship status because I am crystal clear that I have been never been so deep in love before. No matter how much we drift apart I am never going to give up on us. I won’t let us just end up in some stupid yearbooks and pictures hidden in the drawer somewhere because I am ready to wait.

I am not promising some stairway to heaven where everything is gonna be fine. I’d rather be with million other people but I choose you! So, here I am; Ready to work through this long distance and trying to fill meaning into those three empty words. I LOVE YOU…….

who I am and why I’m here

Hello internet world!! My name is lalahang! Queer name? Well let me break it down for y’all! I love being buzzed which means I hum all the time and make chokers out of paper clips for my girlfriend! Just kidding. Trust me the only thing existing in my life with the word buzz is Buzzfeed videos! Back to the point I guess we can all relate to the fact that “lala” is the phrase that the entire world understands. I know that mostly people use to describe kinky stuffs like “ohh la la that is sizzling” or whatever but according to me “lala” kinda represents music and happiness in general but it also doesn’t represent any language it is just free and out there. “lala” is a universal word. And just adding a “hang” means that I just got a hang of the word “lala”!
I am guy marching towards 17TH birthday and I am awkward as fuck! Being a queer teenager hasn’t always been smooth. Rough patches like bullies make the good times hard to come by. I am not soooo defensive about bully which doesn’t mean I am supportive either. It is just one of those subjects which are sealed as “unsolved” in my mind. According to my experience I feel like bully isn’t exactly what hurts us! The actual thing that eats up is the fact that we won’t be left with any friends. Bullies are natural I guess. We all know the relationship between predator and preys! Even in the pack of animals the stronger one seems to boss around making the weak ones victim of bullying. But here is the point we are not animals. We can create a better place by dumping bullies and all the negative stuffs which by the way also seems impossible from the point of constructive criticism. I can’t give crash course on “101 how to get away with bully” because I haven’t experienced what you have experienced and vice versa. I guess taking negative comments seriously and stressing ourselves isn’t a good idea at all. This is my last year on high school and I spent half of it’s year being a sad loner wandering off the school like a ghost. Trust me my creep level traveled or still travels on an escalator! It’s as high as Harry Potter’s Luna Lovegood (by the way never understood what’s wrong with that) But I am not bound to sit here and talk about not having a normal high school experience due to bullies and low esteem shit. Honestly speaking I don’t give a fuck about it! In fact looking at the bigger picture these days I am mostly concerned about the things I have never seen, things I have never been, and things I have never touched before you get serious vibes of Rihanna’s song “work” from the upper sentence! Let me insight you that the subject I am concerned is summed up to 6 letters word “future” I mean who isn’t thinking about the future anyway? Instead of worrying about studies I worry about my dates which never go right. My 12th grade starts this September and I feel like I am going to die single. #SingleForever
We all know about accidents! Don’t we? I bet my life we do. Anyway “Accidents” what kind of image flashes our brain flashes when we first hear the phrase? I bet the images aren’t that pleasing even though I think that accidents are just really important for us as oxygen or water. You must me thinking I am some mad guy who discovered blogging at this point but I do believe it. Actually accidents are what make our life interesting. Accident doesn’t happen all the time that is why life sometimes is boring. Accidents are major or minor. You reunite unexpectedly with your old friend while having lunch OR you reunite with your old friend while you are making out with some random chick on some funky club’s toilet stall #kinky. Either way in the both terms you meet your friend but the first one is happy accident where the second is kinda sorta embarrassing.

I just love giving everything in this world my own theory. I love communicating with people and thinking things differently but if I would actually talk my feelings and opinions to people! Either, I would end up being straight murdered or I would faint due to loss of the calories and stamina from my speaking. So I write! I write whatever I feel even though I write sometimes “I don’t feel anything!” but hey don’t be offensive not feeling anything is also a kind of feeling. I also write whatever I see last time I found myself describing my cat’s arse which is pink by the way. Writing always has been an escape from stress and way of pouring out my bottled up feelings. My diary was my best friend for years. I believe it still is the most un-judgmental friend in my life. Being a dude doesn’t stop me commencing my journal from “dear diary”. I am awed at the fact that how writing things actually build my inner patience and I mean there are practically endless adjectives which make the right sense of what I am actually feeling. Blokes around me are like, “Dude! Writing is so boring. Let’s hit the club and have fun.” But usually I make absurd excuses like I am baby sitting my egg plant. This doesn’t mean that I don’t go to parties or out at all but spending more than 2 hours on a loud music area filled with boozy kids makes me feel nauseas. I usually return home in time which makes me wanna compare myself to Cinderella as if my clothes would be disappeared and I would be running around naked by the midnight which might be even true as I act crazy, horribly once I finish 2 bottles of beer and 8 cheese burgers. I guess even using me and alcohol in the same sentences is toxic.
Speaking of blogging I never actually planned on blogging. But one day I wrote a feedback g-mail to a writer on his column on the national newspaper that is a different story which I would love to share someday! He actually wrote me a long reply letter describing how my feedback was wonderful and how he started his writing career from blogs. I thought why not to give it a try! I have always wanted to be a writer. Just the idea of making people feel things has always given me a weird sensation on the back of my neck and the arms causing Goosebumps.

Our life is filled with all kind of accidents. Some are shared while some are left untold. This is where the subject of blogging enters like the Spiderman in captain America: winter solider. Lol I am not mad about it! Are you? That is exactly why I love blogging. All those feelings suppressed inside us like we are the only human left in the entire universe. We need to all let it out! Our feelings aren’t some van full of old junks to be removed. They need time to be processed and writing plays an important role for me. Reading might help for some people experiencing the same thing. I would me more than happy if I could just put anything out there that is relateable to people including a hairbrush. The magical feeling of bringing smile on people’s face and letting them know they are not the only one who looks like a stupid potato, who feels horrible while going to bed at the end of the day because he/she hasn’t done anything productive. Discussing people about how we feel, relating to endless people and talking about the weird things which will never get conclusions. This helps to widen our perspectives, inspires us on being a proper functioning human beings with duties towards our human companions! I can’t wait to be in the future where we aren’t labeled by our skin color and ethnicity, where people aren’t judged with their sexuality, economical status and body type. I would love to live in the world “where mind is without fear, where we held our heads high!” (waddup Rabindranath Tagore poem reference)



We all know you do exist because you do.

She was different from rest of the girls but in a good way. Overly ambitious, bubbly, supportive, rebellious, sarcastic and sometimes judgmental and paranoid bottled up in a huge EGO. I don’t know I guess I was bored or simply these qualities of hers attracted me towards her but I do know that gravity was working against me.

“Do you have an ego flower?” she asked me with a sarcastic flirty smirk when we were walking along our school’s Para field. It was one of those March days when sun shone hot and wind blew cold. “Maybe, Maybe not! Do you?” was all I could blurt out of my blush. She laughed tilting her head backwards showcasing her perfect braces. I laughed with her and she held my arms “Well, hmm depends on what you think” I could feel her manicured nails lightly digging my arms but all I could do was watch and stare at her beautiful alluring twinkling eyes as they were fixated on mine.

It has been months now! We don’t speak with each other. Eyes contacts? Hmm…. Well, mostly in the corridors Once or twice a week!! Sometimes, not at all. We just stopped talking! And when I say stop talking I mean a literal stop talking. We don’t even exchange smiles. It is like one of those situations where we just woke up and forgot about each other over night. It is not that our contacts were swept away by oblivion. In simple words, we just ignored each other’s voice at the best way possible and blocked each other’s Instagram accounts. It’s not that we hate each other but we just hate to swallow our prides.
I can’t even recall why we stopped talking.

Oh! Yeah, I do. The same old reason the big ego flower that we all posses inside us. Trust me we all own one and trust me more if you are anything like me you won’t believe me. But I guess if you deny that you don’t have an ego flower it pretty much sounds like denying that you have a brain OR a heart. You must have been pressurizing your cute little head as I could have linked our ego with anything but the concept of flower? Well, according to my theory ego functions as a flower. It requires certain requirements to grow and prosper. I bet my life that you all know how photosynthesis works.

Even though it is an absurd way to describe ego!

Anyway, the ego flower inside us also requires water for its advancements. Ego flowers can be seen in various shapes, sizes and colors. Different people have their own individual ego flower. Some flowers bloom and some don’t.

Her ego flower was blooming. Maybe that was one of the many reasons I was drawn to her like she was a centre of the gravity. She was an invested gardener. She nursed and caressed her ego flower like anything in this world. She wanted it to prosper and wanted me water her flower. I was excited to be with her, I wanted more of her, maybe more than just a friend. I had to swallow my pride and water her ego flowers for that and I was so confused! Every single ounce of my body wanted to be with her but the fear of watering her flowers was greater than that. So, I took a step back and declared “I can’t water your ego flower anymore! If I did so, I would end up murdering mine and my ego is my first priority.”

The deal got sealed. We took different paths because our interests were similar but our priorities were carbon copies. We needed the same thing out of each other. Selfishly speaking if she would have taken a bow thing would have been different but watering others ego flower was an alien culture to both of us.

Maybe that was what supposed to happen to us.

I don’t even know how I’m supposed to react! I stayed quite rather than yammering about the incident. I don’t know if this should affect me this much but the fact is it is affecting me down to the point of science at this moment. She wasn’t a long term friend rather we hung out hardly for a month. When people ask about our status I am thankful to whoever created the term “complicated”

When people ask about our feuds “I dumped her/him” is our answers. But lets be honest we can’t be precise to only one’s fault. When my brain tries to break it down various maybes run through my head.

Maybe we both made mistakes maybe didn’t make any mistakes at all.
Maybe drifting apart was a right choice maybe it wasn’t.
Maybe we just over shared too much too soon maybe we didn’t know each other well.
I can give thousands of reasons on the table but the fact that we are complete strangers again still bugs me. Does that mean I am not over her? But we weren’t in anything serious for it to be over.

The only one question my brain interrogates me every once in a while is “Does she feel the same about us like I do?” this thought makes me feel uncomfortable, I feel restlessness inside me, I walk and re-walk on the passages and balconies. I think and re-think about my unidentified problem. I feel like spiraling downwards but again you can’t spiral when you have already fallen hard on your face.

And I realize I am HURT.

I am hurt because she did everything and nothing to make up the problems between us.
I am hurt because she didn’t compromise with her ego flower.
I am hurt because I was super into her but she was intermittently into me.
I am hurt because she acted like an egoistic mental head case.
I am hurt because she was supportive and judgmental at the same time.
I am hurt because I am all alone marinating with my broken heart.

Finally, I am hurting with all of the reasons that she is hurting.
And we both are equally responsible.

The bitter truth is we didn’t leave things in a good place. Of course, we will get over it but I will never be able to understand the science behind ego flower completely. The situation is melancholy because I didn’t have a proper chance for re-thinking and over-thinking us. This might be a mistake but I love my pride more than anything. I will always mourn on our potential friendship and good moments that we never had as a fellow human companion who understood me. The feeling of having boatload butterflies under my belly was unforgettable. People split due to their odds but our similarities were the problem here. I will always admire your ego flower but I will never ever water it.