Is it only ME?

I attended my first meet for my college newsletter.

(news update: I got selected as a cartoonist, the only one that is, and a writer. i am kinda happy cause lets face it, time to start focusing on "the CV".)

And in the meet, I was surrounded by these literature students who totally and always and never fail to freak me out. like bad. I dint speak a word. Just kept observing everyone. They kept going yadda yadda yadda about stuff and my composed smile helped me fake it bad, at "I am totally loving this tête-à-tête" =|Trust me, there is nothing that disappoints you like THAT. you know, the feeling when others know things better than you and you dont know nothing at all? Ask me. They spoke of things,events,people,characters,words,greek mythology (even that.) with so much ease. My stomach started rumbling tumbling making me want to faint right then and there. Probably that wouldn't have mattered cause doubt if they'd notice a lil frail thing go kaput from the scene. I wanted to cry. I want to cry at all times, though I haven't cried for ages now, but still. I wanted my mom. Cause my mom thinks i'm smart. My mom is the good one. These people who were discussing food and cuisines are evil and bad. I mean food is meant to be eaten no? Then why dissect food?

All i remember of the 1 and a half hour I spent in alien land is that in the first half I stared and stared at this article they had passed around, it made NO sense at all to me, but nevertheless I kept reading it, trying to pass time. Then when I realized that everyone must have noticed that i'd been reading it for an obnoxiously long time, I started looking out for escape. Some friend, some foe, some human who'd come RUNNING, shoot all of them down and save me. Talk to me about how the pineapple juice in my canteen tasted sour today or may be discuss what Xyz did with Pqr in the absence of Abc...

No-one came. They, the aliens, probably think I'm a woman on a mission. Out there to create History. be the dumbest member on the board evaaaaah. Whatever, they din't bother me, I din't bother them. Aliens aren't half bad. Aliens talk about Greek mythology. Yes. And aliens want NO gossip in the newsletter. (i mean whaaaaaatthefuck.) Aliens worship shake-s-pear. I don't like the way he looks.

Okay, towards the end of it, as every alien retired to his/her planet, and I was left all alone, i RAN to the canteen and picked up a gooooooey chocolate pastry and walked out of college coolly, like nothing ever happened. Like no-one ever poked and poked and poked at my intellect. Like I never felt this dumb.Like I had read every frigging book ever written in the universe. Like I was ton times smarter than their grandfathers. But, well, to think of it, Life isn't that simple. Bitch.

I wonder what to do? Shopping won't help. Food-ing wont help. Reading, i don't want to. End of discussion.

But, i do feel genuinely unintelligent okay. Today. Maybe working in a shoe-laundry shop will suit me.

Wonder why they chose me? I had warned them I can't talk/write heavy stuff for nuts. Maybe, my life is like that movie, Dinner Game(french)/Bheja Fry(hindi). Not the best flick-turned-into-life-story case. I want to be one happy famous rich popular cartoonist. Nothing else.

Whatever, I love wearing oversized formal shirts cause they make me look fatties ^.^ and that is the moral of the story.

Live Love Laugh.