How to avoid kissing a Dementor!

{Note: I wrote this to help out a friend in need. I hope that it helps out anyone out there. Meep!}

Started on a doodle.

*I may have to rethink that title.*

Whenever something doesn’t go my way, or it’s like all odds are against me, I get a bit competitive with myself to do better. Then there are those situations wherein there seems to be no escape, that sinking feeling of fear. The evil in it was that it could strike at any point. A bright day filled with trivial conversations, good food and just when you least expect it, there arises that familiar feeling that sprouts about insecurities and the cons of every decision you’ve made, the cons of your goals and aspirations start weighing down on you.

It’s horrible and quite the hurdle to overcome. I don’t like referring to it as depression, cause that really does sound depressing. I prefer reenacting it as having been attacked by a dementor. To quote Dr Sheldon Cooper, “What’s life without whimsy?” My usual way to get rid of that sinking feeling was to help others, and whilst I was in college, it was pretty easy as everyone needed help with an assignment or so, a way to distract myself and focus on everyone else’s problems. It was a good remedy for the most part, something that helped me sleep.

{One can never go wrong by listening to Florence + the Machine}

A Matter of Space: My nose or his breath?

A certain Parsi suggested the ..what should I call it.. interesting? title. Have to give them what they want, they are on the verge of extinction. *cue muffled laughter* Now I’ve had brief instances wherein people baffle me with their habits. Not saying that I don’t have my own normal habits that others deem peculiar, but for the majority I’d think the following recounts of some fairly awkward encounters should help paint an image. Apart from that, I’m still hungover Marvel’s Daredevil on Netflix. Three binges, three days, time well spent.

There are very few and I mean ‘count them on one hand’ few,  friends who I can tolerate invading my personal space. In India, one can’t have high expectations for having their own personal space in a public transport system, let alone a public area. However, I should have some reservations for it at work. It’s a kitchen, even whilst watching a demo it’s reasonably understood that one has to, like NASA’s mission to an astronaut, or Elliot to E.T. (The extra-terrestrial), give them space!

The first tale is about the most recent