Are we selfish when we miss friends?

Really, /are/ we selfish when we miss our friends and family?
You miss them when you are lonely, or something reminds you of them. You miss them when you have nothing better to do.
Some cry, some complain. Some weep, and some moap. Some call, some e-mail. Some regret, some revel.
But what good will it do them do be around you when they have their own life to live? Sure, it's nice to spend time with people whom you love, but when you aren't around them, you want to be. That's considered missing someone.
Don't you think it's a bit selfish to want to have someone whom you enjoy their company with you?

Dance {{the missing frame-AFI}} Extra-curriculars

The most amazing class, where I am able to express every little feeling that I hold back for days. Letting go of all that pent up anger and irritation, love that I cannot express to anyone, sadness, joy, suffering. I can finally be alive!

A few years ago, a dear friend of mine had started a modern dance class. Although there were extra-curricular classes for classical indian dance such as Bhangra and Kathak, some wanted a more open class, with many differnt styles, mostly modern like hip-hop, ballet, and contemporary. This brilliant friend makes all the rounines and are the most amazing dances. I believe over the past 2 and some years, she's choreographed and taught 9 dance, 5 of which were performed.

She is an amazing dancer, although she begs to differ. Because of her bulky body structure, she doesn't believe she is graceful enough. Don't get me wrong, she isn't fat. Taller than any other girl in the school, her skeletal structure is thicker than many, but she is one of the most beautiful people I've met, both outside and inside.

Last class, she had fallen sick, so we had a class of just freestyle, and not for one second had I been inspired to dance. Therefore I went off to the art room and did a litle nonsence art. Today, though, was different. She made up a new dance for us, and it was contemporary this time, my favorite and more comfortable style of dance. Because of my background in ballet, gymnastics, and ballroom dancing, I have more a graceful style. Hip-hop just isn't my thing.

So today's class was very enjoyable, and I was so full of energy afterwards, although now it is slowly dwindling away.

We usually have extra-curricular classes on Tuesday and Friday evenings, lasting an hour and a half, from 7 to 8:30. There's a few different classes we can choose from:
-Bhangra (classical indian dance)
-Modern Dance
-Art
-Metalworks
-Pottery
-Tabla (classical indian music: drums)
-Raag (classical indian music: singing)
-Sitar
-Independant studies
All these classes are quite interesting. Teachers from town come in to teach, all professionals.

Well, I do believe this day is coming to an end. Good night, my guinea pigs! Sweet and creative dreams!

~With love from the bathroom wall

Drama {{shuffle}} This rag doll was a fool.

Ah yes, it's only been 15 minutes since creating this blog, and already I've had an incident.
I have two good friends here. Sri Deva and Mirabelle. Ivi (Sri Deva) has been one of my good friends for more than 3 years now. Bella (Mirabelle) I've known for 4 years, but only this year are we becoming friends.

Apparently, I was decieved. And replaced. Traded in for a newer model, tossed aside like an old rag doll, as if I had no emotions.
This newer model called so affectionatly "Belly", a mutt, french and ukranian. For God's sake, not even RUSSIAN! Calling herself russian, she is a wanna be. Me, on the other hand, I am the real deal. 100% russian. I can easily trace my roots back to the villagers that sing folk songs by the campfire, building beautifully architected wooden houses, eating home-grown fruits and vegetables from the forest they call their backyard.

Yes, I was a fool to believe I was going to be her BFForever. This is my second time being supplanted. The first time, the person who stood in for me was "just a friend" in the beggining. And of course, their friendship spiraled into a full-fledged relationship. Now that he's gone, I am her go-to plaything, just to pass the time until someone better shows up.
Yes, I was a fool to believe, the biggest fool there ever was. Now, alone in my misery, all my friends are gone, have moved on to college and jobs; they have their own life, that barely includes me.

This rag doll has no one but herself to rely on. I certainly hope she has learned her lesson after all these years of falling into the same trap. The same drama trap that has earned herself a nickname: Ivi, like the poison ivy that grows on trees, waiting for her next victim so she can spread her poison to them. The leaves so pretty, almost irrisitable to reach over and touch, and feel how soft they are. Almost irrisistable, I say, for this rag doll still has some hope of resisting, restraining herself. She still has the hope of looking inwards, and feel how soft she herself really is, the white cotton filling safely tucked away beneath rough and dull material and thickly sealed seams.
Still has hope,
Like Pandoras box.

The Bathroom Wall located in room no 8 in the girls dorm at Miri Piri Academy, India

34 more days 'till new year I counted today. 34 days too early to start a project according to me. Or 331 days too late.

Either way, I'm starting it, and I hope to commit to it. My online journal, my writing practice, my daily dose of inspiration. ((I'll tell you a little secret. Come closer. i haven't had any inspiration for a lo-o-o-o-ong time, you will be my guinea pigs, my test subjects that will have to endure my ever-so-jumbled rants while i gain my creativity back ;D ))

Well then, welcome my little guinea pigs, to an unstoppable journey to find the creative flow to delve deeper into the depths of my wavering soul. Welcome to The Bathroom Wall. ((no.8))