The Horrendous Space Kablooie!

After three hours of mindlessly spending my time in the redundant task of studying, I experienced a visceral revelation. It's rather peculiar that most of my life changing revelations occur whenever I am forced to study Hindi.
I thought of how futile and insignificant humans are. About how we're merely a minor cosmic accident and even if the earth was destroyed to make way for a galactic freeway, it wouldn't make an ounce of a difference. As a friend duly and regularly reminds me; I might just get run over by a car tomorrow and then all my desires and ambitions would be pointless. It's fascinatingly absurd how you can cease to exist within a fraction of a second.
With all these philosophical ruminations plaguing my head, the reader will understand how I could not continue studying, *states in a hopeful tone* you know, i could just kick the bucket tomorrow and then I wouldn't have to write the boards. Or... I could hitch hike on the closest spaceship *please not a Vogon ship* and explore the universe as a swashbuckling buccaneer with towel in hand and goldfish in ear. So if you happen to find a stray alien ship willing to accommodate a desperate student in search of the meaning of Life, Universe and Everything; kindly send them to me.
Now to more important and sensible matters.... What would be the name of the planet I discover? Beaverland? CynicsUtopia?42? OscarWilde? Suggestions will be considered provided they are ridiculous and impractical for all intents and purposes. After declaring myself Supreme OverLord/Lady *no I'm not gender confused, just grammatically confounded* , Her Excellency plans to spend the rest of her days in probing scientific research.... like how many nukes are required to destroy Andromeda or is Michael Jackson a genetic experiment gone horribly wrong.... I am sure such breakthrough answers would change the lives of all human, humanoid, semi-humanoid and android beings.
I assure you reader I am not inebriated, drugged, brainwashed, schizophrenic or a Star Wars fan. I'm merely under the influence of a small dose of Coffee.... Now, mere mortal, the important task of idleness necessitates my attention. Hopefully I shall soon be traversing the length and breadth of the Universe with less than 10 Altarian dollars a day or I shall be restricted to endure the hell known as the Boards.
I now leave you with an excerpt from the 3rd worst poetry in the universe- Vogon Poetry.

*Oh freddled gruntbuggly,
Thy micturations are to me
As plurdled gabbleblotchits
On a lurgid bee.*

Waiting for my Heart of Gold,
*stares wistfully at the stars*

Phantasma of my Life

I quietly sit at my desk, analyzing the suicidal and morbid thoughts that plague my mind. Unusually, the source of my suffering is my own demons...the inconsistencies of my character. I have no one to blame and even if I could, it wouldn't make an ounce of a difference. I have defenestrated my desires and ambitions as nonchalantly as if it were mere ephemera. The chances of me getting into the college of my choice have alarmingly reduced and I now believe I might *gasp* end up in the mediocre colleges of the city. I am at the end of my rope and below me lies the abyss of everything average, everything I detest. My grasp is slipping... I was once at the top, now I am struggling to survive, fighting against the tenacious wind of despair that threatens to relieve me of my hold. I am not sure if I can hang on much longer.
So, here I am absorbed in my own deathly cogitations, imagining he various ways I could inflict harm upon myself. Let me assure the reader that before you attempt to alert the authorities, that everything I say remains as words and ideas. I am not going to actually do as I say. I am a little too intent on life to take such a futile and drastic measure as suicide. But I can't resist thinking about it. It's rather cathartic and ,at times , even soothing. Anywho on a lighter note, I have an amusing incident to narrate...
In the evening, my grandmother asked me to get vegetables for dinner. Now, I have never gone vegetable shopping alone and I can name only 10 vegetables accurately. The rest are just shapeless inedible and ergo unnecessary objects. My grandmother dealt with local vendors her whole life, so much so that she has quite remarkably forgotten their English names. She expected me to buy an elusive vegetable known as "see may badhne kai" in Kannada. After sensing that I hadn't registered a syllable of that convoluted word, she enrolled the help of my less ignorant maid. So like a meek child I was introduced to the world of vegetables. I never knew there was so much variety! I stood fascinated by the myriad textures, hues and odors of these enigmatic and shapeless objects. I believe I gawked at a serrated and oblong vegetable that looked positively lethal, for a full five minutes . I was just formulating the many hazardous uses of this weapon when an irascible old man tapped my shoulder and sharply ordered me to move. I think the vegetable in question was a zucchini... or an asparagus... or a drumstick...oh well, as far as I am concerned they are all the same thing. I did not find the *see may badhne kai* and just as I was about to abandon my quest, I found the vegetable in a nondescript roadside store. I eagerly looked at the plastic package wondering which exotic delight I held in my hand. My imagination worked furiously conjuring up spotted and diseased tubers with multiple roots oozing a ridiculously pink liquid. But alas the fruits , or rather vegetables, of my labor seemed unsatisfactory. I gazed with not little disappointment at a gourd, the most blase of vegetables. I trudged back home vowing never to shop for groceries ever again unless they had pronounceable names and were at least mildly noxious.
I must now end this perplexing entry. My mind has just entered an elevated stage of depression and self loathing *resumes banging head against wall*. I hope my next entry shall be a little cheerful.
Yours sullenly,
Oinkity
*munches a see may badhne kai*

Yours Diabolically

Now presenting the much anticipated entry of...*drum roll please* Oinkity a.k.a Psycho Beaver, who is more the nutcase next door rather than the girl next door *bows to deafening applause*. Just now my mind is functioning with limited energy. I have just survived a barbaric manifestation of human rights abuse- the Pre-boards. The road was long and often punctuated with potholes of despondency, boulders of sleep deprivation and an ominous feeling of being suicidal. I had consumed the last remnants of coffee available at home before promptly devouring two boxes of cookies. There were lows and more lows.To fully fathom the psychological trauma I have endured, a certain incident can aid you.
It was the night before the moribund history exam. Throughout the day, I had prayed something would run over me and end my misery. Unfortunately the universe wasn't feeling particularly generous and I was compelled to finish 300+ pages of Ceausescu, Naoroji and the damned judicial system.I had slept for three hours. After waking up at four in the morning, in all my disoriented glory,I started furiously poring over my chemistry book for fifteen minutes. After realizing what I was doing, I immediately began a rather painful rendition of that Simpson's classic "Spider pig". In fact for the next ten minutes I was more engrossed in the song than I had ever been with Glasnost or Perestroika. I then proceeded to hit my head persistently against the wall effectively destroying every remaining functional brain cell. Yet despite all that, I survived... So, where's my Nobel?
I have been though hell and even worse, through the inner torture instruments of the Indian Educational System. Now like a battle worn and bruised warrior I try to piece together the minuscule pile of powder, shattered shards and viscous slime that was once my brain. I know confront a mildly subdued monster known as the boards. But that's a far 42 days away. Until then i can continue reading the three different books that have craved my attention. I now have a date with Nobakov, Lepierre and Ellroy and I must confess that they will be remotely more piquant than you, the reader, who possibly has dictionary.com in the neighbouring tab. Farewell, unenlightened reader, my printer's committing suicide and I must rescue it before it destroys my English assignment in the process.