An excess of phlegm perhaps

Let me just type. Let me just write. I do not know what will result from this exercise.

But I need to do it, nevertheless. I hate not being able to write. That was my only outlet.

I feel suffocated, strangled, drowned, tied up and restless without it. There’s this inexplicable tightness clutching at my heart and I have no clue why and how to deal with it. There are these moments when you are restless and nervous. As if you know there’s something miserable waiting to happen, just around the corner and you don’t know what to do when you are face to face with it. That is how I feel. Any given moment when I’m not busy doing nothing important. Its physiological, mental, psychological and a lot of other things. There’s no word for it, yet.

There are no dreams. My mind’s become barren. Imagination has become infertile.

Does growing old do that to you?

Those days, when you were bursting with innocence, hormones, feelings, wishes. Those musings, pouring of words and tears, smiling into space thinking about nothing and everything, and those escapades into unreality- where have they gone?

The artist inside has ceased existing. There was no space for life. It was crowded with ambitions, mundane aims, selfish needs and walls. Walls around my heart, soul, mind. Nothing comes in, nothing goes out. Forever locked. Frozen. Yet burning within me every moment.

This is so juvenile. Still, its necessary.

There is this canvas waiting to be filled. But it remains white. White is a color? Or there’s such darkness that its black, impenetrable. Even grey fails to come on it.

Is it just that my outlets have closed or do I have nothing to express?

Either ways, I feel un-alive.

The entire world is an illusion. Do I just tread through this illusion waiting for it to end on my death? Or do I live it out? I have to live it out. Breathe in the scents and dust. I want to feel pain and happiness. Immeasurable pain and indefinite happiness. And express it the way I want to.

Nothing is stopping me. But I find myself incapable.

Something within is dying. There is the optimist lying docile.

There’s so much I want to do, want to achieve. But they all seem meaningless now that I feel incapable of doing what I thought I was best at and loved to- to write.

Maybe its my fault- I am lazy. Despite that, I just feel incapable otherwise. Its as if I’ve become handicapped, lost my limbs or lungs or heart or just everything.

Being sad and hurt allowed me to vent it out and write. Pain helps. I tried, in vain.

I think its true. As they say, external wound and pain are superficial and its when the heart is bleeding with sorrow and grief and misery that you really suffer. The turmoil within is worse than the injuries on surface. But I don’t have either. I tried the latter- got my ears pierced again in an attempt to “feel” the pain. Needless to say, it didn’t help matters much.

Even loneliness is something that’s so detached. Yet so deeply entrenched into the psyche. I feel miserably lonely at times. That solitude doesn’t encourage any creativity.

I think I’ve run out of reasons, of miseries to put blame on for my incompetence.

Nothing seems to help.

And I resort to whining, which just tires you out and saps your creativity further.

Maybe I should just continue to write. Somewhere, sometime I’ll find a way out or a way in. I must force myself to write everyday. I have to let things affect me. See, hear, feel and experience. And express everything. Maybe that will help.

I have to keep trying. I must.

Its really a waste..

I'm sorry I'm here again to whine.
I have lost my creative skills. Whatever little i had.
I re- read my poems again and again. I don't think they are great works. But i have nothing else. I want to view my own work. And i see no improvement from the past to the present. People get better as they grow. I seem to be growing back into immaturity and un-creativity.
Where have i lost it?
or have i stopped feeling?
The Romanticism has died out. All that i see is jaundiced by cynicism.
All i find is that yes life sucks, and there's nothing that you can really do about it.
I see others going through intense feelings, highs and lows, and tangled love lives. And i mock it, find it juvenile.
Wasn't it good to be juvenile and pour out your feelings?
Something decent always turned up with those juvenile feelings and musings.
I used to be a dreamer. A hopeless one. All i did was dream, daydream, imagine and dream. And some more.
I don't do that anymore. And i don't like it, at all.
To dream, to feel, to ponder and brood and think and go through those phases where you just go on weaving dreams and thoughts into an intricate maze so that you're trapped in your own safe haven, shielded from reality- where is all that?
Escapism- thats the best opium.
Second Life does seem a very good idea indeed.
I miss poetry.
I miss words. And how i could find solace in them. In my own words. I didnt have to go looking for others' poison.
I need to go back.

Quicksilver

Its been too long since I’ve blogged, I know.
I don’t even remember when was my last post put up.
Sometime before exams, or rather a long time before exams I’m sure. Exams were a pathetic state of misery. First two papers we’re just not ready. Then for the next two, food poisoning came upon us and by the last two, we were too tired, dejected and hopeless, just wanting the goddamned exams to get over. After exams, for exactly 4 days I had the best fun in my life in a long long time. Me and two other friends- Bidi and Chetan- my family members think it was 5 of us ( us three plus I added Sanchari and Udrrek to the list guilty of going off to some god forsaken beach place without making much fuss about it)- had gone to Dive Agar beach, somewhere in Konkan for all that I know. Beach and booze and friends- what more could I ask for?? Though I didn’t really get on to sea fish the way my friends did ( maybe because I was still suffering from the after effects of food poisoning and nausea or maybe I realized that I just don’t like Sea fish!!) and daddy dearest caused a bit o’ worry in the end. I inform him of my trip with friends 2 days before I’m to leave and he’s like “ ok.. fine.. whatever” without asking me with whom I’m going and hence I don’t consider it to lie from the beginning. All throughout the days in preparation till I left he never bothered asking with whom I was going. Then on my 2nd day there, on the phone he asks me who I am with and I bluff. Then next day when I’m back in Pune, in the evening he calls and starts heavy interrogation causing me to freak out and make up silly fibs. I was thinking of ditching Placement Cell(PCell) work and heading home immediately the next day, but my Dad’s subsequent silence and refusal to speak with me was a sign that I should give some time to that bloody PCell and let things cool down at home. So for 3 days I work at PCell cursing every moment of the work and time spent there. I’d need to write an entire book of 100 pages to list the fallacies and idiotic inner workings of the PCell. Then one day before leaving I call home from the PCell phone ( sometimes you have to take advantage of College Facilities) and have a nice chat with my mom wherein she informs me of her decision to scold me in front of my dad regarding “too-much-freedom-that-we’ve-given-you” and that I should just stay quiet and play along. How nice can my mom be??? So cute :D.
Well now I'm home and we haven’t yet done our “scolding-listening” playact in too much detail- it was more like my mom seemed to be casually over interested about my trip and “friends”.
Now that I’m home I thought I would have time to think and write and blog and read and watch movies and hang out with friends and shop and paint and all that ( almost precisely in that order I think ) .And all I’ve done since coming back is eat a lot and sleep a lot while finishing off one blah novel ( its chick-lit by a male author for Christ’s sake!!) and watch Black Books Series ( become a huge fan now, thanks 2 Bidi) and a lot of movies and hang out simultaneously with my best friend Sandy ( a.k.a. Sandhya ).
Since I’m kinda clueless as to what I wanna write about now, I think I’ll ramble about Sandy. Well she’s gonna give her CAT this year and is freaked out about it and has sufficient reasons to be worried. She’s the only person who knows when I’m back home and is almost always around when I’m back. She likes movies and gets pretty excited to check out what movies I’ve got with me. So she checks out all the movies and goes on about which all movies she’s heard of and wants to watch. Then inevitably she comes over and says “ I’m in the mood for a nice romantic movie” / “ I feel like a nice romantic comedy” / “ Lets watch something romantic, its been long” which basically is about watching the same darned movies again and again and again. Your list comprises Notting Hill, Love Actually, When Harry Met Sally, A Walk to Remember (the most tiresome and crappiest of all) and now it extends to include Bend it Like Beckham and DDLJ (now that’s my fault I chose to get the CDs and save them to my hard disk). She made me watch Dhoom II twice (!!!!) as also dragged me to watch Laaga Chunari mein Daag despite the fact that we both had read its reviews and knew it would be a pathetically boring movie. :O
And now she’s got some weird hobby to put black nail paint on her toes and white paint on her finger nails. Why ? why would anyone in their sane mind do that?
She’s got some other weird habits too. One’s checking out the extras and their costumes in a typical bollywood song/ dance sequence. Stick to the leads for Christ’s sake!!! Then there’s asking about the heroine’s revealing costumes and wondering aloud how well they’ve hidden their lingerie. Every time I return home, she expects me to get her half a dozen pairs of oshos. And the like.
But then she’s a real good listener, i.e. she listens to me going blah blah and some more blah. She keeps treating me to pani-puri and other junk and good food. I guess I’ve grown to her omnipresence in my life, however gay as it may sound to my ears to go on gushing about my best friend.
And its definitely a good thing she’s not very active online and especially on blogger to give her views regarding my weird hobbies, habits, etc. Good thing that my dad's not tooo up to date with blogger shlogger shit.
And now I’m too buggered ( I’m fasting for ekadashi bcoz Sandy the holy cow told me to) to continue writing bull so I’ll just sod off and watch some movies, do I?

And I dont really know why the topic of this post reads Quicksilver. It means
changing unpredictably: tending to change rapidly and unpredictably.
Microsoft® Encarta® 2006. © 1993-2005 Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved.
So maybe it says something about my mood.. or maybe its just a load of toadstools like the rest of this post.

Time-out for now.

Things happen too soon , too fast. It seems like God was in a big hurry to wrap this episode up. As it is we are a part of a giant endless sitcom directed by God Dearest. Just for laughs he makes us go through a rough patch and u can hear his laughter boom when you are down in the pits , all alone n miserable.
Right now, its just fatigue and over exhaustion. Being so lost, all the time is not good. There's this frenzy of thoughts in my head but they refuse to take form in words. Pointlessness has become the point of the matter. Meaninglessness provides meaning to this sad existence of ours when there's nothing that you can do except for playing through automated phases of life like androids. You work and think its worth something, something to keep you going. What do you take back- hours of you planning and organising and blah blah crap rather than hours spent doing nothing but having fun with friends??? Could it be because you have no 'friends' as such now? How far do you keep yourself and alienate yourself from your people who you know and who know you?
You keep looking for the light at the end of the tunnel. You reach the end and realise there's no opening at that end- it was god again playing jester shining a torch from the other end. You ultimately have to go back to those you left behind. And what if those you left behind are not there anymore? ( This is God's idea of character building learnt from bollywood)
There's this period in my life which seems to have been erased from my memory.. A gap i cant seem to fill.I cant recall where i was. Or mayb i can, except that it seems to be a movie running backwards too fast. It seems like sometime back i came back from home, then things started running through my hands. Elims n elims- this time on the other side, holding them for others Manzar International Debate, and some more debates. Then more elims- this time being the victim, going through an awful lot(Nirvikalpa- Marketing Assignment included selling Kabaddi to teh ultrarich and stress interview had me mono acting, dancing and telling a blonde joke). Then it was Christ College, Bangalore(Awesome experience to be recounted later in happy-er times) then back to Pune and Illuminare(critical analysis to be submitted at a later date), still so much work to do.. The day i decide to attend lectures, i come to know college is officially over and there are no more lectures being conducted, officially of course.
One of these professors couldnt help smiling at me when he saw me for the first time in his class. He was really nice to accept my Management Accounts assignments later(MA-in which im pitiable n the assignemnt in question was in the process of being copied when i had this urge and working net connection to compel me to leave it). Others havnt been that nice, so i've had to beg and plead them for extensions. Damned people do not understand that it is humanly not possible to sit in class and study and organise inter collegiate fests from withing the class!! MCQs comin up and im sure i'll b resorting to inky-pinky-ponky-father-had-a-donkey routine to get through them.
And then there's the best of all-Placement Cell ( an assortment of jesters selected through a stupid process from the college to help other clowns get placed in ''good companies'') My holidays are being cut short owing to placement cell work :(. Its so not Funny- I am Missing Home!!!!
I feel like i've forgotten something over here. Somewhere i seem to have lost track about what i was supposed to be blogging. Its ok, memory, time, availability of net and my laziness permitting i'll blog sometime soon about what i really wanted to blog.

Stupid Thought That Went Through My Brain Cells and Surpirsed the Shit Out of ME-
Can you let the light of stars lead you? or Do you have to fight the fates written by those stars??

Meaninglessnes-

Something's so horribly missing..
its just this gaping void.. you cant seem to fill it, whatever you do..
i am as clueless about whats missing as i am about what i seek to fill that gap with...

Writer's Block keeps visiting again and again.. Its as if he's this dreaded ghost you wish stopped haunting you.. this unwanted guest who keeps knocking at every oppurtunity, you dont want to let him in, yet he forces himself in, stays for dinner without invitation and refuses to go... He doesnt just stem your creativity, he simply destroys your ability to write and express. Lethargy/boredom/pervasive pointlessness/habitual hyperactivity etcetra are some of its other names..

There's this surge of emotions- chaotic, distorted, formless and heavy- just no outlet to let go of them. Too many things locked up inside, so many irrelevant things released but..

Sharing secret joys and grief doesnt help.
it doesnt drive away guilt and loneliness.
it doesnt make you feel any lighter, any less troubled.
its just those things you let on when you cant take them anymore, but it doesnt help.
because you know saying things out aloud doesnt necessarily help matters ease, because you are not doing that to find solutions or attempting assauge a messy state of mind.

My horoscope for today says: "Nevertheless, your happiness may depend on your ability to let go of the paNevertheless, your happiness may depend on your ability to let go of the past."
But what do i let go of??
i almost feel i dont have any claims over these memories.. theres nothing i own to let go of...
i am happy, i think. but i feel i am not..
maybe feelings are not such a good thing at all.. how can they be? if their sole purpose is to create conflicts in your mind for which you dont have time and any space...

its pointless to find the meaning of life.. but who the fuck knows wats life anyways?????
i dont know what my life is or wat it means to me or any one else?( i doubt if anyone would be so jobless as to make my life matter to them, except of course my immediate family which i have now come to realise doesn really really cares about me beyond my cynical imagination)

As this post falls deeper down into an abyss of nonsense, and i realise i'm just doing this in a futile attempt to find some meaning as to what could have gone so horribly wrong with me to make me such a loser of a person, i want to know why i think i am a loser.
is it because i am not a looker at all and neither a genius of any sort? god said no to me in both the departments-- nor extreme good looks or extreme brilliance of mind with superscore of an IQ!!!
or is it just because i fail to see anything remotely special or different in myself? or is it just an incurable inferiority complex that i've been chronically suffering from??
(A self-critical and self-depreciating view of myself just doesnt sound as funny or cool as it does for others.)

Just staying busy doing work which you know will be anyways done irrespective of who's doing it, but which somehow makes you feel as if you have been a part of something which you'd like to believe you're an integral part of. At the end of the day, when i go to sleep do i feel i made a difference to anyone or myself, in which ever tiniest way possible or did i just add to the growing heap of meaningless hours, words and sighs spent??

busy- exams-thats it.

i know i should be studying, or rather trying to figure out QT( thats quantitative theory i think, but hell when i first heard the name i kept looking around to see cuties :O)
exams are on now- 3 down 3 more to go. As usual i'm bummin abt now.. i've been wanting to blog for a while now n i kept complaining abt lack of time- which was incidentally not just another of my whining bouts but the truth- i was really busy.

right now im being distracted by an old school friend on gtalk(never dared to talk in school n now he's goin blah blah blah :X), so i'll jus bugger off now..
i'll blab to NERs sometime else..

FUN WEEKEND!!

Well this weekend has been fun..
Friday- I go on telling everyone that I'm not going to Freshers party coz my roomie wasnt coming and I'd b lacking in company n blah blah reasons.. but then due to unexpected company and a lucky phone call, I did go to the Freshers. I'd resigned myself to watching The Incredibles(sigh..)
Sorry here to my roomie who got all worked up seeing me all cooped up and went to great lengths to try and cheer me up(she almost succeeded by calling Chetan!! Roomies-- well u just cant help loving them somehow :X :P).
So ..i go to the freshers..And I must say it was fun- the party that is.. Unlike last time where i was too sloshed to remember what i'd done(though others remember too well!!Darn!), this time around I was sober.For some reason a lot of people kept asking me how many shots i had and seemed to be surprised when i said none(why i wonder?)..GR comes up to me asking about it and recounts how funny i was last time- i wasnt aware that of all people he was one of the main witnessesback then,he's been so nice thru all this time.. But i'd promised my roomie i wont get drunk or rather not drink and Townie(whose call led me to change my mind about attending freshers at literally the last minute) had set my limit to one shot so i was good and nice and didnt drink(few swigs dont count,do they?). I had good fun dancing to usual crappy disco kinda songs wid so many diff people :P..(one of d cutest guys in college asked me to dance wid him-im all of a flutter,still:D) and came back all charged,happy,tired etc etc. Some kinda fight broke out there and d party kinda ended soon.. i'll be a teensy weensy bit whiny and wish the party had gone on for longer.. back home i got my bit of vodka and that put me to an amazing 12+ hours of sleeep.I got up at 2 or so..
Saturday -Today was good, too.No college- it wasnt a holiday, but then hell no one went. good break from all that Conoscenza activtiy..We(me n roomie ie) went for HARRY POTTER AND ORDER OF THE PHEONIX..and it was awesome. Obviously the book is far far better than the movie, but nonetheless the movie was superb.. luvvvvvvvvvved it..had amazing chelo murg from Blue Nile for dinner- wat more cud i ask for???
lets see how sunday funday goes...

Funny weekend fact: i dunno how i manage to spend and have fun even when im broke.maybe i will when my dad kills me for the expenses :D

Back-no bang--bit of a fizzz...

i got a lot to say/blog/blab/express etc etc..
but im running short of time and net connection, ie i hav no net connection for now..
so in short-
college's started.
its good, ok- nice to be back..
im confused.. not really but confused.. a different matter altogether.
doesnt matter, its ok..
im tired n aching.. blame d gym n that constant enforced head banging at a gig last night.. it was kinda nice.. no confusing really.. im so confused.
i want a masseur(no innuendos) coz my backs hurting like hell...
i'm going into these weird mental zones where im thinking way too much, and trying hard at the same time not to think too much.. then there are those blank zones wherein im all empty and tired and inexplicably sad. why i wonder?
and i'm a sort of front bencher now-- terms jus started..n i seem to b liking sum subjects n paying attention and all tht stuff usually restricted to good students--whats wrong wid me???--
but i think i cud b recovering.. i hav bunked a few classes till now.. n today i managed to bunk d last lecture right while the prof was waiting to get in.. :D all smiles at that..
well ok thats it.. horrible cramp beginning to start in my neck... beginning to start-- is that correct english??
hell who cares?

idontknowwhatthisisabout..

Loss hurts.Loss hurts even more when you dont even know- why, how??
Helplessness hurts and angers.
Not living upto expectations, letting them down hurts..
But then hell- life starts with hurt- ever heard of any baby coming out smiling or laughing?? what does doc do 1st??-slaps ur butt off 2 make u cry!!- there u go.. life is all aboutt hurt and pain and misery!!

But then yeah, you move on, realise smiling takes fewer facial muscles than frowning and learn happiness is the ideal state of existence, which you then never achieve for an extended period of time coz utopian states are not for real, are they??

Thus things that really once made you pull your hairs out (one of them wud be Ultra Doux Conditioner for Dry & Frizzy hair which after use makes ur hair if anything but more frizzier!!), would now manage to elicit a feeble smirk/chuckle from you. So now things like Ponds Facial Foam Face (now thats called alliteration!) Wash which never produces any foam at all nor does it manage to really clean your face or Parachute Therapie Hair Oil which claims to reduce hairfall by 90% but rather increases your probability to become prematurely bald- well they just give you a tiny window of oppurtunity to laugh at yourself for being stupid enough to purchase them.

Its not easy to tide over grief with such pathetic attempts at humour, but still a journey of thousand miles starts with a single step.. n so does a journey of thousand smiles with a single- err...PJ?

Im not sure if this piece belongs to this blog- it certainly doesnt seem to fit with the other lighter forms of crap.
Im not even sure what im blabbing about out here- but i just felt this urge to post :.. My internship's finally over( will be tomorrown that is) and i seem to be getting over my phase of lows-fits of the sullens, said Mrs.Weasley.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
All say, "How hard it is that we have to die"—a strange complaint to come from the mouths of people who have had to live.

Mark Twain (1835 - 1910)
US writer and humorist.

Pudd'nhead Wilson
Microsoft ® Encarta ® 2006. © 1993-2005 Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved.

oh crap- arggghhhh !

just a quick rant.. ( well a long one at that..)

i'll whine about phase one of my internship at some other leisurely point of time..for now let me just whine about topics in general..

first and foremost- the Symbiosis admission process into 2nd year--
the application process will drive you nuts, crazy, mad.. it is so so full of shit!!! 1st symbi doesnt give any announcement or instructions regarding the re-admission thingy till its really really imperative to do so. You call up Symbiosis- 1st number is forever busy, second line no one picks up, 3rd number which you get from unlisted sources is answered by someone who'll simply ask you 2 send d DD wid ur bare details like name, PRn no, dv etc.. But just 2 confirm you go and check d site where you realise symbii has done something good(false hopes, sigh!)..what it has done is to put up this online registration form which really is a second hand product derived by amalgamating d online admission for 1st years and maybe d re-admission forms of former batches.
It is a bloody five page long document, and requires to know :-
* your HSC,
* SET scores along with 'academic details of semesters given' which proves 2 b a really difficult criteria coz very few symbiians really bother to keep such trivia in some wasted corner or their brains or document folders;
* your birth details(well almost every thing except your mothers' obstetrician's name);
* your permanent address, local adress;
* info abt ur local guardian- mandatory- irrespective of the fact that you necessarily may not have a LG;
* it asks you to sign in the centre ( dead centre ok!) of a box in black ink (only black ink please, glad they didnt ask for special fountain pen);
* and staple one and stick one photo at appropriate boxes (boxes which seemingly ask for passport size but are meant for stamp size);
* you're required to enclose with this uber-simple application form DDs (for tution, hostel and mess), photocopies of exam marksheets (all d exams that you gather are crucial for ur r-admission, but then which symbiian really does have his/her sem marksheets really safe?!), proof of local address and two passport size photos(again).
To add to this, the form apparently is for admission into 1st year of symbiosis BBA, a mistake which no one has bothered to correct even after promising 'to look into the matter' n if you call up d office regarding this, one bloke listens to you blab for approx 90 seconds then leaves you listening to those annoying mechanical tunes. All this is so typical of Symbiosis. We at Symbiosis just cant seem to shed this BureauCRAZY- perhaps symbii considers this a part of our training, early introduction to Babudom in its milder form!
For others it may seem im just whining about something which is very normal- but really, symbiians wud agree our college just loves to do everything in a long, over drawn exercise which is bound to really really piss you off!

Then comes d great-indian-family-summer-reunion-thingy wherein relatives would come to your place and you have to play the gracious host. In this mumbai heat- i really dont think its a very good plan! Ok,maybe im speaking like the archetypal teenager who cant handle generation gap and doesnt understand her grandparents. But hell- i really can get along with senior citizens but for no reason can i get along wid my dearest mom's mommy dearest coz i've talked wid her barely a dozen times and those times too have proved sufficiently discouraging coz everytime it has been abt what am i studying currently, how expensive life has gotten to be now and how i've inherited monster-like qualities from daddy dearest @$#$%% !!!
Its enough of a pain in u-knw-wher to be working at a NGo concerning kids/children/teenagers/adolescents- but then to have at home my dear 12 year old cousin who REALLY LOVES MALLS -the typical, eager-to-visit-everyplace-which-gives-ample-oppurtunity-for-shopping kinda girl n who likes to talk about fav filmstar/color/career/etc and her equally 'wow' 'best friends' most of the time- well it can really strain you to be nice when in reality im oh-so-mean!!!
Despite being an extroverted, overtly social person at times, i can get into d anti-social ( or rather anti-filial ) modes and then my patience is really tested- its my summer vacation for christs sake!!! while mommy dear would haggle wid me for every tiny expense incurred by me in no-relatives-over peacetime, she suddenly becomes RBI when her folks are over, dad too :( - i agree im sounding very juvenile here, but hell im like that only. and then sleeping in d living room on the sofa-cum-bed (kiddie zone eh!)--i've 2 b nice-helpful-adjusting-good girl till sunday now :

And then i have my second phase of my internship- its not compulsory now, i've completed my work, but then im obliged to help my boss who gave me my 1st real job whn i was still in junior college n terribly under-experienced. this time around it wud be easy i think- coz i've already been there, done that ( ie managing a kids' summer workshop ) but this time around i'l hav 2 get up early coz there's only one batch- morning batch :( ... then i have my bosses who can amaze you with their take-it-easy-approach to everything- which boss would carelessly misplace ur pen drive containing imp files and reports? - or wud at times completely forget abt such things??

So from tomorrow- ( mayb d new eyes wud help :P)
its all about being nice to kids, cousins, senior citizens, bosses, mommy n daddy, n others while living with the recognition of the fact ( a fact which i've believed strongly for quite some time now) that it is just not in my nature to be nice.

Dictionary Tales

nice
nice [niss]
(comparative nicer, superlative nicest)
adjective

1. pleasant: pleasant or enjoyable
2. kind: kind, or showing courtesy, friendliness, or consideration
3. respectable: respectable, or of an acceptable social or moral standard
4. good-looking: pleasing to look at
5. accomplished: skilful and accomplished
6. subtle: subtle and involving delicacy or fine discrimination
7. fastidious and fussy: very concerned and careful about choosing, or being seen to do, the right thing

[13th century. Via Old French < Latin nescius 'ignorant']
Microsoft® Encarta® 2006. © 1993-2005 Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved.

Now you understand- i cannot ever be nice if it means all these things.
( erm.. well.. er maybe subtle at times, only that, only at times...)