Suddenly, You Smell Like Nothing

Stepping outside, and suddenly you’re there

Seeing the unfamiliar,

but we’re breathing familiar air.

Smiling a smile I haven’t seen for ages,

Like an old revisited book, we turn the pages.

I lost it when I saw you, and I ran.

One of the rare times I don’t run away, but toward.

Toward you. Maybe the hugs were awkward,

and perhaps they lasted a tad too long

but I didn’t care who was watching.

Not even your stupid, stupid, friends, because for once I can actually stand them

Maybe I owe you an apology for finding you warm

and comforting

and kind

and open

and oh, my gosh, you are a relief.

Thanks for remembering that I’m doing so well with my scars,

for checking that they’ve faded.

Thanks for being as accepting as ever,

and for laughing at me when required.

Suddenly, I miss you, so I inhale.

Maybe searching for the smell of you that used to be on your jacket,

the jacket I used to wear on late nights,

when I experienced an altogether different type of cold.

I inhale and find some foreign cologne,

and you suddenly smell like nothing.

Is this why we romanticize nothingness?

I can’t find my mind,

but I’m happy you stopped by.

Hello loves! It’s me, Queertastic 🙂 I know, I’ve been super duper MIA, it’s just cause exams are happening and my laptop got crunked! Well, I’m back now and my laptop is as well! (I’m finally complete. I was so empty without my laptop). Recently, my ex revisited. I haven’t seen him in six months, and yes, I was happy to see him- I was also confused, amused, oddly warm, and at the end of it I was convinced he snagged that special place in my heart. As a friend, as an ex, as a whatever- there’s always going to be this tiny corner just for him. This poem was just me trying to get things out as briefly as possible, I’ll possibly be posting about it later (not that anyone cares, but I want to get it all out of me nonetheless!) I’m aware this poem has no structure and NO direction but eh, as I said earlier, I had to get it out there.


Two Weeks From Valentines Day, & Where Am I?

Hello there lovelies! So I was originally going to write a post about a strange metaphor, but then remembered that today is the first day of February. A subsequent realization followed that we’re two weeks away from the fateful day of February 14th, Valentines Day. It’s also going to be during my exams (stressful, I hate exams and they always just put me out of it completely, I hate to think of all the all-nighters I’m going to have to pull) so two weeks from now I’ll be very, very busy. Well, I’m already busy, but it’ll be even more so in the weeks to come.

Realistically, I probably won’t be able to get the time to post during the week of doom or on Feb 14th itself, so I thought that I’d take the time to reflect right now. Two weeks away from Valentines Day, and I’m single. I’ll probably be single on Valentines Day too. It doesn’t exactly bother me, but it does dig up some old dust bunnies that I haven’t had to acknowledge in a long while. Last year on Valentines day, I was in a relationship. In fact, the second anniversary of said relationship will be on sixth February. That is, it would’ve been on the sixth, except there’s nothing really to celebrate now since it’s over. That being said, I never really did celebrate Valentines Day. I mean, my parents have never been thrilled with the idea of me dating, and have always made it clear that they wouldn’t condone it. As a result, it was quiet and not treated like a celebration. It was more so a marker for me to reflect on, a cue to look back on my romantic endeavors. I’ve learnt so much and walked away from so much, I’ve been walked away from and I’ve left a lot of memories trailing my track. I wish I could say that no regrets have shown up on this reflection, but that isn’t the case. The truth is regrets are unavoidable and they’re just part of reflection. To answer the question in the title of this mini rant, two weeks from Valentines Day. I’m single, but not unhappy. I’m a little all over the place, but it isn’t necessarily bad, it’s just human to be confused. I’m doing alright, and while there are ways to improve where I’m at right now, I think I’m doing okay, and working on getting better. Maybe I’m not head over heels in love with someone right now, and maybe I won’t be doe eyed in love on the eve of Valentines Day. Perhaps a few years down the line, it’ll be a different story, but for now, this is where I’m at.

What The Hell Would I Be Without You?

This week, I’m obsessed with dodie’s recent breakout single, “Sick of Losing Soulmates” (along with Ed Sheeran’s latest releases because I’ve been waiting for them for forever and half). This post will be inspired by her song.

Image result for sick of losing soulmates edits

There are some people that enter your life and stay there to be a continual source of sunshine, joy, happiness and in general just love. This song really got me thinking about one of my friends who’s been a constant of pillar of support throughout everything. She’s honestly just everything I aspire to be as a friend, and as a person. She’s so amazingly empathetic, and whenever I’m low she’s always around. So when I heard this song, I thought of her, and I thought of her quite naturally. As the line “what the hell would I be without you?” rolled around, I was convinced that I would be in a shit hole if it wasn’t for her. When I came out as bisexual, she accepted me and gave me rational sensible advice that had no trace of bias in it at all, all while being supportive and in general awesome. It’s always hard to capture an epiphany, simply because the title of this post asks an unanswerable question. Such is the nature of everything we relate to our emotional experiences, I guess. “Watch how a cold broken teen will desperately lean on a super good human for truth”- she let me lean on her time and time again, and it gets me so emotional looking at the extent to which she’s always been around. So much that I’m making a post about it. Because through times where she was against my decision making, she never stopped supporting me. It didn’t matter how much she hated my choices at a time, she would support me if I told her it made me happy. That just captures the essence of being good- no personal agendas, just personal opinions that won’t act as an obstacle towards anything. Here’s my catch though, this is something (or rather someone) that I want to be. I want more than anything to be someone else’s sunshine, and I’m not sure if I’ve ever achieved it. When working as a volunteer Listener at 7 cups of tea, I have had people tell me they wouldn’t have made it another day without me, but I still cannot believe that I’ve been someone’s guardian angel the way this song so beautifully describes it. It’s just hard to believe that I could ever have been that pillar of support for someone, simply because I’m busy and I’d love to be there all the time for support, but I feel like I’m not. I feel I get irritable and snappy and that my shortcomings as a person mean that I can’t be someone’s “guardian angel”, so to speak. Of course, I do know everyone has their shortcomings, but somehow I still think mine are just enough to limit me from ever reaching this coveted state of angel-ness. I don’t know if that makes sense. There’s only one or two “guardian angels” that I have, which has led me to believe that they’re very rare. I thought I’d put this out there, take it how you will, blogosphere! I know this is a somewhat weird and even irrelevant ramble but I thought it was worth a ramble. I’m not sure if everyone else has these real life angels that just swoop in to always be there as a safety net and source of comfort and protection, but I know that I’m very lucky to have one.

Breakup Muse.

So you left. Well, technically, as far as you know, we both left. Too bad, I was hopeful. I wouldn’t ever have told you, but I dreamed of art gallery openings and falling asleep with nothing but messy paint splatters and laughter linking us. Well, such is the nature of art. Hopeful, violent, and evidently destructive. Don’t try to find me, because the last thing I need is to be found at my weakest. I almost wish I never told you who I really am, because now I can’t even call you a friend. I can’t call you a friend without being a bad actor. Without the stability of you, I’m a little lost. I’m not going to lie to myself. I’m going to be pathetically honest- I dreamed of being your muse, the one constant in the middle of the explosion of colors. It’s okay, because blue and red don’t always make purple. Sometimes, we get excited and we end up fucking with our pallets, staining our brains with the violence, the strains of faded chaos in the form of dye that won’t leave. We were short. Not even that long, so I have practically nothing to get over, right? Around people, I can joke. I can act like it never even happened. That is, until I see you. You. Wearing your hoodie that I both hate and love. I always hated the way it had no pockets, but I loved falling asleep in it in hotel rooms that we weren’t allowed to share. I loved the idea that I could be wrapped up in you yourself, how dare you walk in late, unexpected, half asleep, wearing something that used to be mine. I was in there, in that stupid hoodie, I’ve slept in there, and it being yours made me feel like it should be mine. Like you should be mine. It all hits too fast, because you were mine. you. were. mine. And I messed up, and I had you after wanting you for so long, and I let you go because I don’t know when to appreciate what I have. My friends are worried now, am I okay they ask. Yes, I’m fine. Of course, what else would I be but fine? It was mutual. It didn’t even last too long, I had nothing to lose. Perhaps it’s a good thing I never made it to one of your art walls, I would’ve hated being framed. Perhaps it’s a good thing your doodles stayed doodles. Undefined lines. When an artist tells you you’re hot, you take it. But when an artist doesn’t tell you he appreciates you, savors you, you get concerned. I don’t need to be concerned anymore. I had smudges of eyeliner under my eyes tonight. I couldn’t help it, and the temporary ink designed to make me look half awake came crashing down in feathery tidal waves that almost looked beautiful. But they weren’t. Just like when you left, I didn’t have to ask where you went. I don’t need to know anymore. Such is the simplicity of not needing to care anymore. You’re sick?  Get well soon. Sickness is difficult. To be fair, loving you was worse.

The Best Lyrics From The 1975

D’you guys know that feeling you get when you’re super obsessed with something and you have nobody, like nobody, to fangirl with? No? Just me? Well, I’m gonna walk y’all through some of the most genius lyrics ever produced by this heavenly angel band.


but first, we must stop to appreciate the angel that is Matty Healy. -sighs- just take him in ❤

We’re gonna start with line that actually inspired this post. It’s from ‘She’s American’ and it gets me every single time.


Next is this line from one of their more popular songs, ‘Settle Down’.


Here’s a line from ‘Sex’. The whole EP is amazing, and actually this whole song is without a doubt on of my all time favorites. The whole line is ‘use your hands and my spare time, we’ve got one thing in common it’s this tongue of mine’. Ahh, I can feel the fangirl.


This line is from ‘She Lays Down’ and it gets way too real.


This is a simple line from ‘Loving Someone’, another one of my favorites just because of it’s simplicity. Another simple stunner from this same song is when angelic Matty sings ‘Yeah, I think I should be loving someone’


This line is from ‘Paris’, a song about drugs, deception, and hazy romance. The song talks about the messy recipe that comes with mixing an addiction with wild escapades.


This line is from “Haunt//Bed” (yes, the official title is supposed to have those slashes)


And here’s one from the song ‘She Lays Down’ again, because that’s an emotionally raw one. I could quote that whole song because of how deep it is, and there’s another line in it where he sings “the engines all go bust, we turn to dust, and I’ve no reason to complain”


and now, just to lighten the mood (because I’m a sucker for funny text posts):


I’m constantly falling in love with this band, and this post is probably just going to keep growing. I could honestly quote their whole album, ahhhhhhhhh. Fan girl session over. For now.

xo Queertastic

The Strangest Metaphor You’ll Read This Week #2

So, a while back I wrote the first strange metaphor, and then realized I have a habit of comparing the events in my life and human experiences in general to the strangest things that I’ve learnt and seen over the years. You can read the first one here.

This one’s about relationship statuses. But first, a little chemical background. Elements can exist in many forms. For example, Carbon can be found as C-12 and as C-14. C-12 is a stable form of carbon, and C-14 is radioactive, but they’re both considered carbon. One of my friends told me that relationships make me stable, and that got me thinking- I have quite a few forms when it comes to relationships. My single state has been observed to be volatile and wild, almost too wild to exist and almost too wild to be considered stable. Maybe that’s why my other isotope, the one that’s in a relationship, is so much more stable. Relationships tend to stabilize me, because that’s the type of elemnt I am. So if elements were people, some of them are more stable out of a relationship than in a relationship, just like how different isotopes have different levels of stability for different elements. Recently, I’ve been put back into my most stable isotope form, which is the metaphorical way of saying that I just got into a relationship. I was able to conclude reasonably that yes, I am most stable in a relationship, but that doesn’t mean I stop being me when I get out of one. And I think this metaphor is one that perfectly describes the diversity of human relationships, because there are 118 elements so far, and each one has numerous isotopes, some of which remain undiscovered. We all have different forms of our most stable isotopes. And, yup, there’s the slice of my brain from today.

How I Came Out To Myself. (The 2nd Installation)


So, a while back I wrote a post entitled “How I Came Out To Myself”. In light of recent events, I think it’s time for me to revisit the topic of my bisexuality. Y’know, since I’m getting my education from a school where the word “gay” has never been said on stage before? I swear, if I didn’t have this blog to express myself I would go legitimately insane.

Now, if you’ve been following this blog for a while (like, I’m saying this in the highly unlikely case that people actually read my posts) you would’ve read this post. It’s the first part of a series I’m going to start, called “How I Came Out To Myself”. Because I’ve always believed that as far as my sexuality is concerned, coming out to myself was the biggest challenge for me to pass. It’s a milestone that I’ll always want to revisit, reflect on, and learn from. I came out to my mother a good six months ago, and yet I still haven’t found that experience as unnerving as coming out to myself. She dismissed my “claim” that I was bisexual, stashing it under the category of teenage angst. Hey, no hard feelings, I wasn’t expecting anything different. I timed it safely- I chose to come out to her at a time where I already knew for sure that I was Bi. Nothing she could say would make me doubt my sexuality, I’m mature enough to know what I am and what I’m not.

But that’s all black and white. Her reaction didn’t change my identity, but that didn’t stop my feelings from getting hurt. And it’s instances like this that make me realize the importance of coming out to yourself. LGBTQ+ individuals sometimes find that they’re their only ally at one point or another. I’m going to be elaborating more on instances of seemingly minor, casual homophobia that served as huge barriers to me while I was trying to accept myself.

Let’s rewind to two years ago- I was a dewy eyed fourteen year old who seemed to live in the constant fear that the floor would fall out from under her feet. Constantly running from her emotions, sucking up tears, and overall just being all over the place because nobody told her any better. I remember asking if I could do a presentation on how LGBT people in our school get bullied, and I remember getting the idea torn down as inappropriate. I still regret how apologetic I was for standing up. I still remember running to the bathroom and locking myself up so I could breathe. Those emotions of internalized  hatred were all too real and intense for my tiny body to handle. It brought me back to when I had to listen to my uncle harping on about how homosexuality can be cured, as if it should be cured. I remember when I confided in my mom about the failed presentation pitch. I only remember because it hurt so much when she hushed me and shut the conversation down. Even today, I hear the echo of a guy in my class asking “why do you care, anyway? You’re not gay” and I remember the way I replied, saying “no, of course not!”. There, in that bathroom stall I felt resentment boiling up inside of me like the black death. I felt the rising panic as I thought to myself “stop thinking these thoughts, no-one can know.” I was horrified with myself, and there’s no way for me to sugar coat that. I don’t even know if I’ll ever be able to capture how scary it is to try to run away from yourself.

That was two years ago, and a whole lot of things have changed since then. I realized that love is associated with  specific activity in dopamine-rich brain regions associated with reward and motivation. Falling in love reduces your cortisol levels. Heck, love can even be a painkiller. Among these realizations I made one very important observation – love is love. Love is petty, love is going to be debatable, but it’s all the same hormones fucking with your brain, just in different sequences. Call me a little psycho for saying this, but this series of realizations made me understand the true beauty of love. And after this set of epiphanies, I found myself unable to ever admonish myself for love, the raw emotion. That’s one of the ways in which I accepted myself and even embraced my orientation, and I’m finding ways to accept myself all the time 🙂 You better believe I’ll be adding to this series whenever I find new lessons I teach myself!

Queertastic Is Out! (thank you for reading, if you did xD)

Thank you for reading! wanna check out more rants and weird attempts at poems and musings? My blog is open, and if you’re nice I’ll hand out cookies xD Anyways, if you’re currently struggling with depression and are feeling alone, take this free hug (click here and here and here for cute GIF s that send hugs from me to you ^^)and also a few hotlines, just in case.

Vent to an anonymous stranger-

In case you’re feeling suicidal-

Hotlines for Depression specifically-

Petty Emotional Bases- A Random Rant.

Image result for silence cannot be misquoted

Here and there, right and left. Today’s been a relatively busy day for Queertastic, your friendly neighbourhood blogger. For starters, I have had the pettiest emotional base today, which means that literally everything else that could go wrong kinda almost did go wrong. Do the words “petty emotional base” make absolutely no sense to you? Well, basically a petty emotional base is my fancy way of saying crush. Because goddamn it, the word “crush” is so immature and reminiscent of my 3rd grade days where I had a physical diary instead of a blog, and spent most of time indulging in almost creepy reveries. I hate admitting I have a crush because I’m trying to evolve into a global citizen and a mature self respecting woman. I know it sounds pretentious, but that’s who I want to grow up to be. And mature self respecting women do NOT have crushes. They have petty emotional bases xD

Recently I changed my tagline to “silence cannot be misquoted” and I think that’s pretty relevant. Sure, the guy I have a crush on (did I say crush? pfft I meant petty emotional base. There’s another petty post I wrote about this crush that you can check out here) is cute (#FirstWorldProblems are about to be spilt all over my laptop screen, if you want to avoid cringing maybe you should look away) but he doesn’t talk at all. And when he does, he hardly seems interested. Okay, he smiles at me and laughs sometimes, but I hardly ever catch him looking and he’s just so shy that when I talk to him I feel like I’m scaring him. Oh god, this problem couldn’t get dumber could it? Actually, I think this is by far the stupidest post I’ve ever written, but I’m tripping on my own emotions for no good reason and it’s been getting on my nerves. I’m going nuts because a crush is such a raw and unrefined emotion to have. It’s not an intense emotion either, it’s fluffy and light and you can’t get enough of it. Now comes the most idiotic part of this post, you ready? (sidenote: I realize that throughout this post I’ve been trying to desperately convince the stranger on the other side of the screen that I’m not a twelve year old. Please just take my word for it I AM NOT TWELVE I AM ALSO NOT A PETTY PERSON KTHANKS) Basically, I’ve also been talking to this other guy (I can hear the face-palms already) and he’s really nice but didn’t strike me as crush (I mean petty emotional base) material right off the bat. Turns out, he’s super duper fun to talk to and seems to actually not want to run away when I try talking to him. I have a weird personality and I’m always scared of it scaring people away, but he just doesn’t seem to be affected. The thing is, there wasn’t any physical attraction right off the bat unlike Petty Emotional Base #1, so I don’t know how to rank Petty Emotional Base #2. All I know is that I’m really confused, and being confused makes me sleepy and tired.

Queertastic Is Out! (thank you for reading, if you did xD)

Thank you for reading! wanna check out more rants and weird attempts at poems and musings? My blog is open, and if you’re nice I’ll hand out cookies xD Anyways, if you’re currently struggling with depression and are feeling alone, take this free hug (click here and here and here for cute GIF s that send hugs from me to you ^^)and also a few hotlines, just in case.

Vent to an anonymous stranger-

In case you’re feeling suicidal-

Hotlines for Depression specifically-