Why So Serious?

I have been asking myself the same question for past few days. In my last two posts I sounded pretty morbid (I talked about the perverted life of Gandhi for crying out loud.). However, that's not my usual self and as a matter of fact I avoid anything morbid as much as I can. I could not fathom why all of a sudden I was feeling depressed and murderous. I am very good at repressing unpleasant memories and I never dwell on them, well, not consciously at least. But all I have been doing these days is reminiscing about all the people whom I used to hate, or whom I still hate or people who at one point or another pissed me off, or whose general disposition I found to be abominable or outrageous. Not to mention, almost all of these people are kicked out of my life long back. And not to my surprise, that list is a long one. After pondering this subject (why I am feeling like a psychopath) for a while, I came to this conclusion that there are two factors that could possibly be behind my Hannibal Syndrome. (Well, even if I don't fantasise about savouring my enemies, I do relish the idea of their violent death in my hand. So much for my Buddhist philosophy eh?) The first reason must be the cold that I have caught and trust me this non-stop headache is a total bitch. On top of that, the sneeze marathon. The second reason is the most primitive one and any woman would be able to relate herself with the situation. The PMS.

However, despite having this irresistible urge to put the world on fire and watch it burn, I somehow convinced myself to go out this evening and at least pretend to have some fun. Below is a visual flashback of me having fun. Although I am not sure whether cringing at the crowd and constantly muttering swear words under breath can be called 'fun'. Don't let that ascetic expression deceive you.
Despite the bad lighting and my friend's horrendous photography skill, I tried to look as graceful as possible.

Oh, who am I kidding.

Here's a closer and better picture of the necklace