Note to self: Stop saying aloud whats on mind! Stop it! Stop speaking! Now!
No one wants to hear it!

If you place a frog in boiling water, it will jump right back out. But if you put the frog in cold water and heat it gradually, it will sit there and slowly roast alive. Science Teacher

I read this line and in light of recent events I felt like it was talking to me. yes im that retarded. yes im moophat ...(hahhaha mooooo phat! Get it ....hahah) but no. im muuphat.... must to stop big mouth must to learn to be polite not rude. Diplomatic not obnoxious.

"perhaps it may also be the way u say things coz u do at times mean well but when u say it just doesnt come out the way u mean it"

hmmmm must also learn to accept critisim gracefully and work on it. Its about time.
Grrr....
.... grrrroaaannn*

guys can be such fucking chutiyas. and theyre even bigger chutiyas when it comes to girls. more often than not its over the Wrong Girl. And even more often than that its over the Unavailable Girl or the Its-Never-Going-to-Happen Girl. it doesnt matter if the guys normal, nice, sweet, intelligent or even a total harami. once the chutiyapa catches up ... Its over!
theres a guy who flies out of the country, armed with the eyeliner she wanted, the t-shirts she really liked and the jewelry he thinks would look really good on her
the guy whos been in love with his best friend for over 2 years and has done everything possible to distance himself
the guy who flew across Pakistan to attend the wedding of the girl he loves, because he felt that he should be there for the most significant occasion of her life
the guy who sat and consoled her boyfriend the day after the girl they both loved left for another country
the guy who would do anything for her even though they broke up 4 years ago and shes been seeing someone else for the past 2 ½ yrs
the guy who keeps hoping that their msn conversations would amount to something more but they never do
urghhhh and it just goes on... anyhooo I was at some point going somewhere with this rant …but it all seems quite pointless...i hate men!

*****
***
*

and then when i ask what the point of pursuing this is ...
he says, "im not really pursuing it but i know i wont feel like this forever because i cant or its pointless or whatever... so i might as well show her how i feel while i still feel it."
struck silent by the sweetness and simplicity of his statemnt i try to think of something else we can talk about

Danae

-- Klimt, Gustav

words seem to be missing these days. from my world and from thiers and i see a hazy image of myself. concious. inverted. so concious of my warped identity reflected in thier eyes. theres a girl here who's so sincere, but keeps getting it wrong anyway. I need to bring out my camera more often. click/snap at something real. I look around me and feel more useless then ever and yet unmotivated still. It'll come I keep reassuring myself. Im not ready. too young. (yea. right.) theres time to grow. (isn't there?!) how has everyone else around managed to get so far in such little time with so much less and here I am still groping in the dark taking it slow. self pity. yes you guessed it that what I use this blog for. that and to whine and whine away. and occasionally i write. when I feel like feeling the feeling of my fingers skimming keys. so now you know. now fuck off. please. thank you. have a nice day. I find myself giving explanations. justifications. reasons to talk. talktalk. keep talking. and somehow the realization/awareness that no one's interested. barely even listening. makes no difference. i talk. talk talk.
to balance the talking i sometimes stop. i say nothing. i smile. nod. listen. say nothing. even if i want to. whats the point. no one cares. just shut the fuck up. please. we all want someone to shut the fuck up. I need someone to hold me. just be here for me. i just read something abt the difference being between being needed and being wanted. i used to think i need to be needed. i realize that what i really want is to be wanted. (how dr. phil awww) liked. apreciated. not forgotten. not convenient. not nessecarily fulfilling a purpose. not coffee. not for me from now on. its green tea. sans sugar. sans... you... all this sucks. i read comics to pass the time. and i dont feel like writing anymore.

empty it is
without you
stretched out (the) road/s
ahead

all the more daunting now that im at the wheel
and on my own.

Winters are always a novelty in this city (even after 23.2 years). A novelty Like the afternoon sun between 4 & 5 pm, casting a light which makes all faces look beautiful. perfect. i sit here hugging my knees. listening. my body sways ever so slightly to the music. colours change as shadows rise and fall and i strain to catch if only a fragment of whispered secrets. the words, i barely even understand them. and despite the peculiarity of their patterns, the sounds are as known to me as my own beginnings. they are home. inscribed somehow within me. and were you to stretch my skin and turn it inside out you'd see just how deep they run. the markings. engraved from the inside.

suffering from a distressing case of LDR

first off .. kudos to all those poor retards who have had the misfortune to experience and more so to those who have actually survived the wonderous wonders of "long distance relationships"
... suddenly the terms:
unbearable
aching heart
gaping hole
excruciating
to long for
heartbreaking
pining
dull pain
pangs
agonizing
heartwrenching
and ofcourse
chinese torture
have taken on a new more real meaning .... and the best part ... im pretty much doing this to myself not because im a fucking sado-masochist (which im sure i am on some level or the other) but well you gotta do what you gotta do ..even if it fucking well kills you (which this is.. slow slow slowly) urghhhhhhhh surprise surprise even screaming your heart out into a pillow does not make this any easier!! so0o yea secondly to all of you who were stupid enough to put yourself in the position how the fuck did you do it?!!? and why is it that all of a sudden when some one says "yea i can imagine long dist must be quite difficult" you smile sadly and nod (like you do when talking about some tragic event or the other) all the while wanting to tear off their silly little head and say "No you fucking retard you cant imagine! it isnt just difficult its fucking torture and consider yourself lucky you havnt a clue about it!!!!"
*phew.... good to get that off my chest! but then again maybe thats just me!! yeaaa ive been a little distraught lately ... hah and whats brilliant is that this really isnt anything ... which just makes me think what the fuck will happen to me if im faced with actual shit ...

Sheriff's deputy Andy McDowell was forced to live a parent's worst
nightmare twice in a matter of minutes After he was taken to
the site where one of his two sons was killed in a car crash early
Wednesday, McDowell was driven past another fatal accident. Only later did
he learn that the fiery wreck took the life of his only other child.

fuck. :(

Ev'rything's gonna be alright
Ev'rything's gonna be alright
Ev'rything's gonna be alright
Ev'rything's gonna be alright
Ev'rything's gonna be alright
Ev'rything's gonna be alright
Ev'rything's gonna be alright
Ev'rything's gonna be alright

They covered the song yesterday and I pushed the tears back inside…pressed down my lips and sang along…repeating the words to myself over and over and over…

this is going to be a long one...

Bright lights. flashes. slashes through darkness.. why wont she fucking stop that singing. He keeps saying hello. Hello. hello hello hello hello hello hello hello hello hellow hallow...... she says, "Lenny can you hear me?" (reminded of Tommy.. tommy can you see me? tommy can you feel me?) ... aching for a joint. even though itll be pointless. short-lived. but it'd be relief nonetheless. i wish it would actually make the shit disappear. ahhh wouldnt that be a treat. a solution. finally ....but instead i guess ill have to make do with the foggy illusion of refuge for a few hours...
... and I actually thought things would get better as time went by. thought life might get easier. yea. fuck. how is it that i can see through myself (to a painfully mindnumbing extent) in so many ways but as far as these things are concerned im almost always off the mark. God i can see myself in sittinghappy in a cloud of smoke. comfortable. smug. fug. fuck. (them).
(how i wish hiding behind my big black safety shades constituted proper work attire) ... and now certain things occurs to me (all of a sudden) (like a ton of bricks) ((what a fucking cliche)) ...... how much of a bane to your existence has it been that im not a carbon copy of every other pretty little typical pakistani girl you smile at and make inane conversations with. that i actually have opinions and am stupid enough to voice them. that i need to question things. that i question you.
"Kyun tau laraeee hoti hai" - my ustani used to say that to me everytime i asked her the reason behind some sweeping statement or the other that she was so prone to making. I was 10 maybe 11 then.. more then a decade from that point and i still havnt fucking well learnt. But i cant accept things as is. im sorry cant. just because. the way its always been. not good enough. (and i swear I don't do it to be difficult)… there needs to be a reason. something. some sort of basis for the things we do the words we repeat the rituals we practice the way we live. otherwise whats the point?! and again i don't do not fuckingwell do it because i love to argue but because i want to know. Because… well fuck how can you not!? But.. well i guess everyone doesnt take things like that .. you expct that I follow blindly like sheep. to be nice. not difficult. because you do ... and if God forbid i dont ... "I know you dont mean it but u can be rude" "I know it wasnt your intent but you were insensitive" " i guess she took it the wrong way" "you know you can get aggressive"
.... well i guess were back to the "kyun tau larai hoti hai" .....and this from those who've known me the longest.
I don't know… (to0o fucking many things I don't know) … maybe there just comes a point when youre not comfortable anymore ..when more often then not you find yourself biting your lip to contain yourself just to keep the peace and just because you realize that anything else would be an exercise in pointlessness … when youre no long on the same page and wonder whether you ever were… well when that happens then what?! well then my friends you wonder if the same will happen with every single person you meet and befriend because of late you've started seeing people for what they are (or for what you make them out to be) and you think to yourself how awful it is that you've already lost so many along the way and for fear of ending up all friendless and lonely you push aside all thoughts of moving on and desperately hang on to whatever it is you can. fucking pathetic.

then again everything seems fucking pathetic to me right now. Its everything. again. it creeps up on you know … (well on me anyway)…one day im happy (blissfully ignoring all the crap that piling up) and the next day the heap has tipped over and im flat on the floor under a pile of shit…

shit/


===================================================================

Gnosiophobia- Fear of knowledge.
Gymnophobia- Fear of nudity.
Gynephobia or Gynophobia- Fear of women.
Hagiophobia- Fear of saints or holy things.
Hamartophobia- Fear of sinning.
Hedonophobia- Fear of feeling pleasure.
Heliophobia- Fear of the sun.

I wish I could write more about my days, my thoughts, my friends, my world. But somehow I tend to volunteer much too much information and that’s not always a good thing. Even though some may refuse to believe it I don’t like to secretify. Then again somehow it just happens with me. Well anyhoo … feeling quite the creatively stumped. There’s an image of a person with a tree in the place of hair… stump for a head if you cut that thing off.
Tight schedules and all. The summer spoilt me.
I have half a song of winners by k’s choice. Just the first verse over and over. I want the rest but cant have it now. Want to hear the whole song but its just not an option what to do. “can I touch you there” plays over and over. Haha how fucking inappropriate. Brilliant. Sitting. O0ohh ouch daymnn .. just read the latest soferwrld strip .. urghhh not niceness at all…


===================================================================

Gamophobia- Fear of marriage.
Geliophobia- Fear of laughter.
Geniophobia- Fear of chins
Genuphobia- Fear of knees.
Gerascophobia- Fear of growing old.
Glossophobia- Fear of speaking in public or of trying to speak.

It became winter today

she talked of the city getting to her and it bothered her because this was home. and i walked the busy galis of chundrigar basking in the winter warm sun.

28/11/05 -12:30pm

nice ;p

Guy:Were you raised on a chicken farm?
Girl: No, why?
Guy:Cause you sure know how to raise some cock!


hahahhahahaha i *heart* pickup lines!


In a hotel elevator, man accidentally elbows lady's breast.
Man: if your heart is as soft as your breast, you will forgive me
Woman: If your dick is as hard as your elbow, my room is 207!

;)

(Yes Im in a bitchfukwhinywhinewhine mood! So..!?)

its all so ordinary .. so 'everyone else's life'. :S
and the fact that mine willbe/hastobe the same bothers me. playing it safe. simple. if i want to get what i want at the end of it all. step beyond the boundaries only if you want to see it all shot to hell or conversely if you're some one else entirely. otherwise this is it. your life.(ie. my life). spice some? you cant you know. i know. i know. but urghhhh why?! its too blah. and it doesn't mean anything so why does it mean so much. why would it mean so much to me. whyyy missy whyy?! rare magical moments swirling in my head enjoyed by myself alone. i'm fine with that. sometimes. sometimes i want more. sometimes i want everything. but well what can you do about that. cheesy movie lines spinning in my head. so not me. then again... sometimes ....maybe they belong with the lighterbrighter side. the one that they thought i didnt have. i feel like im at the edge of an axis spinningspinningspinning so fast that i cant tell which side of light or dark i am and if i pause to catch my breath or find my feet i will most likely fly off the daymn thing shooting into the wide blank spaces between nothingness and everything.
maybe im already there.
my lists keep growinggrowinggrowing. and i dont see myself moving. my brain feverish with activity runs around all over the place skipping even sometimes and then i look down and see. my body stiff. legs still. unmoving. whattheFfuck. how the fuck can i be tired already. sily silly me. theres so much more. so so much.
urghhh i get so bored. i drift in and out of your stories often and you know i do it youre fine with it ..you still go on and on and on... what is that all about?! shutupshutupshutup please shutthefuckup! I need to find something to hook me. interest-me conversations. somewhere that i can stay and get that which give me my thrills/kicks/fix. (should go pray.... find out where they pray in places like these)
and then theres all that other crap. dealing with people. why why why must we. as if its not enough I have to deal with my own shit. now all of yours as well. how the fuck should I know how far to push you and when to let you be. now if you all came with inbuilt remotes so that i could control your settings now that would be a different story all together *sits back and smiles lost in the wondrous prospects of such idea* ....

she talks to angels

She never mentions the word addiction
In certain company
Yes, she'll tell you she's an orphan
After you meet her family

She paints her eyes as black as night now
She pulls those shades down tight
She gives a smile when the pain comes
The pain gonna' make everything alright
Says she talks to angels
They call her out by her name

Oh yeah, she talks to angels
Says they call her out by her name
She keeps a lock of hair in her pocket
She wears a cross around her neck
Yes the hair is from a little boy
And the cross from someone she has not met
Not yet

Says she talks to angels
They call her out by her name
Oh yeah, she talks to angels
Says they call her out by her name

She don't know no lovers
None that I've ever seen
And to her that means nothing
But to me it means, means everything

-- Black Crowes

===================================================================

Eisoptrophobia- Fear of mirrors or of seeing oneself in a mirror
Eleutherophobia- Fear of freedom.
Enosiophobia or Enissophobia- Fear of having committed an unpardonable sin or of criticism.
Eosophobia- Fear of dawn or daylight.
Epistemophobia- Fear of knowledge.
Ergasiophobia- 1) Fear of work or functioning. 2) Surgeon's fear of operating.
Erotophobia- Fear of sexual love or sexual questions.

at a point

There has to be some point where you wait. You wait for life to change. For things to start happening. For someone to understand. You walk up that line up to that point. And at that point you stop. And you wait. And after a few blissful days or maybe years you realize that you will spend the rest of your life standing here at this point. Waiting. (waiting for godot?) And unless you move now and move fast this point could be it for you. The sum of everything. This wait. Your life.
But then sometimes you've just been standing still for so long that even the idea of moving can be fucking paralyzing. then what? You spend a few seconds or maybe months trembling in fear. And then (hopefully) you muster up all the courage all the strength all the "caches of self adoration" youve been saving up for so long. And you move. If for nothing else for the fear that if you don’t take that step that point that youve been holding on for it mightn't be able to contain you any longer and you might spill over onto the pavement and get washed away with yesterday's grime...

===================================================================

Decidophobia- Fear of making decisions.
Dementophobia- Fear of insanity.
Demonophobia or Daemonophobia- Fear of demons.
Dikephobia- Fear of justice.
Doxophobia- Fear of expressing opinions or of receiving praise.
Dysmorphophobia- Fear of deformity.

i woke up today. rushed. missed my morning run. fuck. felt like i had been interrupted. stumped. right in the middle of something. could have been important. now ill never know.
the lady next to me just offered me chocolate. (she brings extra lunch everyday for me. sweet.) i think theyv gone bad though... doesnt taste like kisses (but then nothing does anymore but thats another story) ...o0h gone really really bad. .. crap.
tired still. coffeeless. im such a grogged up bitch. antisocial. disassociated. its just too early in the morning for the colosal effort of being nicer then i haveto haveto. its the weekend and im tired at the thought that it starts all over again in only a day. sigh. its the thought of the processes that i have to go through that holds me back. it takes so long. everything.
cheeks chubby cheeks. fun to pinch. with bigger chubs then the pregs around. groan groan groggity groan. what a drag i am what a bore. with no time to breathe. the lists i made. left. the movies bought untouched. the two books trying to be read at once. ignored. alone. left to a side on my table beside the lamp. untouched. one on page 26 the other 203 maybe. missing. (maybe ill buy some more fun ones) missing in action. missing the bumming. missing missing missing the you! how the fuck is this going to happen? this for so long! fuck ufkc fuck. i know i know its me. i know. what can i do. i have to. urgh. fuckfrustrationfuck/ i miss you daymnit. this sucks. choke*croak*. i have nothing more. not to say. not much to do. talked to you. happier now. just a little. hmmmm you so.


===================================================================
Cacophobia- Fear of ugliness.
Caligynephobia- Fear of beautiful women.
Cathisophobia- Fear of sitting.
Chiraptophobia- Fear of being touched.
Chorophobia- Fear of dancing.
Chromophobia or Chromatophobia- Fear of colors.
Chronophobia- Fear of time

hey theyr playing shaggy - 'it wasnt me' hearing it after ages and ages ... heheh our song sweetie ;) ...one of our many firsts ,..... you know it was .. deny it as much as you like!! awwww how romantic! hehhe ....yea baby yeaa...

still not used to this whole getting up in the morn thing ... it doesnt matter if i get 4 hours of sleep or 9 .. its still just a painful process!!!! and the fact that theres no coffee today and i had to have .... (brace yourselves) ...~ TEA ~ *yuck*gluk*groan* .... (*scrunches up nose in expression of gandaness*)

hmmmm not much to do ...i think this extended period of nothingness has stunted my brain .,... so0o not in the mood for wrk!
wrk bad ..internet good! ... good grief im losting it! losted losted losted
shitt andddd wrks calls ...knew it was inevitable
sigh*


===================================================================
Anablephobia- Fear of looking up.
Atelophobia- Fear of imperfection
Aulophobia- Fear of flutes.
Anthrophobia or Anthophobia- Fear of flowers.
Autophobia- Fear of being alone or of oneself.
Bibliophobia- Fear of books

paint me from a memory

paint me from a memory
of my toes skimming salt waters
of stars when there were stars allowed
to come out at night and play

piece my skin together
from the fragments i let you touch
when i sat across the room from you
and allowed you to look

splatter me with colour
harsh stark like neon lights
one for each way your mind bent
as i wrote the words you flung my way
into those i consider mine

============================




i miss you wrapping your two fingers around my one
(fourth from the right) like you do ... kissing me sleepyly behind my ear.
........
this fucking sucks.
i miss you! i hate you. i cant stand you. i ABHOR you. :(

stutter mutter

she sits up and reads...straightening her back every so often conscious of her curving spine bad for her. soaking in the words spilt by someone she almost knew.... she rushes through paragraphs grabbing meaningslinescoloursfeelings along the way. pixie-like in the big chair engulfing her. a fish swims past swish swish. she lissens to the rhythms.notes rising and falling....picks at the thick baseline and softly sways to it inside her head (because anything else would be unprofessional). she imagines swinging her hips tapping her feet dipping her waist and sits with a halfsmile on the inside. i spy on her from the corner of my left eye. watch the slightest of her movements and feel her swirling thoughts manifest themselves in misty eyes...bluegray... i couldnt have been further from her and yet somehow it fell within the realm of all that i could ever have claimed as my own.

=================

that songs starts up again ... listen to the words flying from one end to the next ... directed towards you or was it me? .... i cant remember. . no. thats a lie. i do remember. i remember it better then most .. maybe because of the shiny newness of the memory. forever distracted by the shiny and new. what more is there. ..
- interrupted -
for what. something small ...i am disturbed by the smallness of it all... distressed at the invisibility (due to mist, fog and other factors) of the potential smallness of that something big i see myself chasing. circle the point till it gets smaller and smaller still. but if that bothers me why let it breathe. smother it before it suffocates me. but i wont. simply because i dont know any better. if i did .. well things would be a little different wouldnt they.
-coming back to that-
the guilt still sits there .... a thick layer. fat. smoggy ..clouding over any peace ...pieces of something that could be/should be innocent. simple. just that what they are. as far as they can be. And i dont know how to ask. ( is it over? ) if it were i would sigh content and smile. i pray for it three times a day when i can. when there arnt other louder things screaming to be heard. no relief from the screams muffled though they may be at insignificant times of the day or night.
-washed up i am-
and i think its piling up. ...not that i can feel it. (not that i ever do before the fact) not untill it reaches the roof and starts pouring out through the windows onto the streets. on to you. im sorry i do that. i shouldnt its not fair. but then thats what i have you around for isnt it *smirk*. couldnt be further from what you keep me around for isnt it. what a nice mess of clashing expectations the two of us make. where will it take us. or the hackneyed expression of all time "what will become of us".. (tera kiya ho ga kaalia :P). more then a day and a half and you start aching as do i..... those 7 minutes of that voice across those oceans is what we're surviving on and what we need. to let you sleep and let me get up and start my day (or the other way round if time allows it). i hope it gets us through what we have to .....in order for you to become you and for me to come into myself.. ... yes im still going to collect those drops of jupiter .. (even though i know that heaven is overrated) .... hmmmmmmm

snap
snip
a slit
to widen
your pretty
smile
those fine pink lips

drop
drip
(crystals)
clear
dilute
the red
that saltier still

push a blade
down the tips of the fingers that
slide
the hair from your face
just so

carve with great care
"bitch"
across porcelain-like breasts tender
and firm

i need to ramble. i need someone to ramble to. the only prob is that on picking up the phone or writing an email i find i dont really have much to say. i dont really like talking about it (there isnt much to say anyway) and i dont find myself too good at talking abt (ie. distracting myself with) other things.
urghhh even this seems fucking inane ... just dont know what to do w/myself ......

stomach curls up at the thought of what the next day(s) might bring. spent the last few weeks waiting for it. maybe i should step up before things get out of hand. but im scared. scared of how out of hand things got the last time i thought that. maybe it'll get fixed on it own (....regardless of how hard i try i cant even convince myself of that...)

....im praying. (anything else i try to do always screws up). and i think the praying is helping. and im thankful. so so thankful.

1 day.
just let it go by like the days have so far.

just fix it.
please.

curled up in bed
scared
still
of the voices
loud
of the monsters
at her door

she lies
still
squeezing her eyes
shut
willing away
the darkness
all
around

a lullabye
soft
she hums
to herself
to try to bring back
fairies
small
and the sweet
pink smell
of
damp
green grass

2:46 am

why do all the stories of all those who have passed on start and end with how good, how smart, how friendly the person was? ....... and what about the ones that wernt all that? werent any of that? ....to talk of them are words then fabricated or are the stories bent to fit the occasion. most people you meet cant string together more then a few good sentences about the living then where do these pages and pages of the goodness of the dead pour out from? and more importantly why now? now that these/your words bear no meaning on the person being talked about.
it bothers me sometimes that we each and every person who is told a story repeats it in an attempt to what? celebrate that persons life? and yet its done on the conditions, terms, words, adjectives that are predetermined standards for such things. ... generic almost. Rather then on the terms of the person who lived that life you now enjoy reminising so often at so many gathering ..................................

..........like the heart rendering tale of one of the (many) little boys who died in the earthquake, who was so intelligent and so popular, who hadn't wanted to go to school that day, who had to be cajoled into going by his mother concerned about regular school attendance. And who's friends when he died that day put up a marker and carved messages near his grave because they loved him so and were going to miss him so so much.
it does. it breaks my heart. but for some reason i kept thinking about the other boy(s), the quiet one, who also sat somewhere in that classroom, who was just about average at everything...not that bright, who didn't have an interesting story to accompany his death and who will also be missed but just not as much....

5:35 am

cranky mutterings ...

he wasnt what i had expected him to be. I guess i had known he wouldnt be but still i was a little surprised. ive been surprised before... and thats still being strung along. guess you can never tell with these things. or rather i cant tell. i can never tell. you'd think i'd be good at these things. you'd think. but yeaa. fuck. thats what i know. fuckall.
and here i am still rolling around in the puddle of indecision all over again. i dont think i'll ever really come out of it. maybe just few breaks take out a little time to get some sun but thats about it.
my heads all stuffed up .... from the nazla and the crankiness that comes with it. everythings just so................................................. so.
heh there nothing new there. nothing to say. its all the same shit rehashed over and over again that now even im bored of it. me with the issues. with the incessesant need to arrive at some form of conclusion. balance things out somehow. fuck. fuck fuck fuck.
theres more. (with me there always is) but fuck it.
whats the point of spewing if i haveto do it all the while looking over my shoulder and then writing writing writing and then deleting ... you know just incase.
fuck this fuck him fuck them fuck you. fuck the disclaimer.
(disclaimer: its the nazla and crankiness)



ps. why dont you just yank out that rod jammed up your ass!! please! trust me it will do you wonders!!

THIS IS IMPORTANT

Dawn's news report and the Daily Times report on the earthquake - the worst is NOT over, PLEASE KEEP DONATING!!!

the perils of being a photofreak

how am i so easily convinced of my own gorgeousness and voluptousness that it takes a bucketload of pics thrown at me all together to make me come to terms with the actual FAT facts ....
*groooaaaannn*
*groaaaann*
*groan*

i want to put my arms around you
and squeeze you tight
i want to kiss the side of your head
and smooth your hair

and i want to be able to tell you that you are safe and everything will be alright.....

=========================================================

within
the darkest of your shadows

know

you are not alone

for it is
in those spaces
that
you will find

a part of me
always
looking out for you

(25.10.05/4:34am)

I lay. flat. on my back, underneath a swirl of vapours and stars, encircled by rocks. I dug my toes deep into the sand and let the redgolden lights of the horizon, the fishermens’ boats, the balmy breeze and the crashing waves wash over me. I breathed it all in and let thye sand get everywhere. I even saw a shooting star.

everything

Everything….
somehow… somewhere…in all of this i lost the words. or maybe they lost me. “teeter between tired really really tired” it just seems too much much too much. and/but then you glance at the mirror over your shoulder and its all too little.
Insignificant Significant
i feel like i’m lying an inch under the surface. in a cavity that’s greybrowngrey. Guilty when I smile. Guiltier when I laugh. Guiltiest when I’m light at heart. Guilty of not suffering along with guilty of forgetfulness guilty of wishing a cloud of smoke to envelope it all…. disappear. today not the sky’s blue not the sunflowers not the venus star. none makes it alright. worth it after all. but then maybe that’s just today.
done with rolling off my back they mount. weigh me down.they cover the holes that I had cut out to breathe through. they come at me. the stories…
of…. helplessness psychosis. molestation. jealousy. loneliness. depression. anxiety. cancer. brain tumor. pregnancy. abortion. rage. suffocation. amputation without anesthesia. devastation. murder. rape. schizophrenia. hunger. rubble. heart attack. bribery. harassment. epilepsy. rage. death. assault and battery. arthritis. gun shots. loss upon loss. multiple sclerosis. paranoia. hysteria. the Complete and utter Helplessness…..

we build bubbles you and i. only to watch each one burst. one after the other. we watch helplessly as the security blankets once knit so lovingly are wrenched out of our fingers. come undone. and the thing is im scared……

……. will I be able to?

(22.10.05/12:32pm)

this is it … the end … end of the innocence …. End of everything ….Sane. everything will be downhill from this point on. or maybe it always was and we were just too busy looking up to realize. but now. Now we have no where else to look … now that all of what we once looked up to is now rubble at our feet. Now what. What other then look down. down at the long long road ahead.
So much changes in …. sometimes in the years that lead up to those moments where it all finally breaks down… and sometimes those moments where everything just slips away.

sigh* …….. fuck such a long way to go…. if only we had a clue abt where it is we're headed.
…and if we can really hack it.

.

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===================================================================
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Unicef
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SA Tribune: Sending donations if you live abroad
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AMAL is trying to link up with two NGOs, Islamic Relief and Sungi working in Azad Jammu Kashmir and Abbottabad. The drop-off point for donations is the AMAL office located at #7, St. 62, G-6/4, Islamabad. In case of questions you can contact Nighat Rizvi on (+92) 0300 5003175, Imran Rizvi on (+92) 0300 8551208 and Mehrunnisa Yusuf on (+92) 0300 5002657. Please donate the following items* Clothes, shoes
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The Karachi Metblog, Lahore Metblog, Madadkaro.org and Pakistan Earthquake 2005 are posting news updates and details of charity drives constantly.

little fat balls
between
the spaces and time
that we rolled around in
that we let bounce along
split them

open

semicircles
half hemispheres

take a peek
can i just a look let me see
while you
run along the side of it
your legs long
mean

and shrug mean
making a muck of
that
look
the one that bore through
tore
the spaces in between

that time

(06/10/05 - 10:30am)

"He wanted to think that he was paralyzed. He knew that he was violently alive, that he was forcing the stupor into his muscles and into his mind, because he wished to escape the responsibility of consciousness."

-- Ayn Rand 'The Fountainhead'

(half way through the bk and quite engrossed :P ... quite the intense)

do you

 

Stop?

            everything.

 

when you walk

 

    straight

 concentrate

 

those narrow lanes

dont you stray

one foot

behind the other

 

Oh brother. what a Bother

&

              yet

 

trudge along

it Must be Done

 

one foot and then the other 

 

traces of steel on my tongue.. what is that taste... my internet doesnt like or blogger.... or it does and it just doesnt like my blogging ... either way i cant comment or post ... it just keeps taking my posts and greedily piling them up unwilling to share... theyr really not all that ... hahah maybe thats what it is .....

hmmmmm .... bzzzzttt ....

so0o iv given in.... im usually so good about it. better then most... i used to pride myself on it... and here i am at 9:39 pm having insolently slept the day away ... and im still not done yet ... this is just a food break .. heheh why does sleeping become such a force here ... i love it! ...

urghhh im GROGGYYY ...urghhh grughhh blarghhh .... frowning groggmuchness ... i hope they dont try to make conversation ... though im sure they will ... family .... the father and daughter came in to chek up on me ... they stood together and looked down at me bundled up in a jumble of blankets... "look at that big frown" "shes so0o cuteee" and a big kisss ... i frowned on and mumbled an incoherent grumble while they stood smiling over me......i heart family :)

nights are still a violent shock of dreams... and even though i wake up not remebering a single one i know these nights have been busy ones... i think iv involuntarily become a dream whore ... a name a thing a subject has barely to be mentioned and i end up dreaming about it .... my dreams unnerve me sometimes ... sometimes ...i dont know .... how far should you follow dreams? ... how far do they follow you? ....

God this has to stop ..."this has got to stop" .... really now someone has to give me job so i can get on with it and not be blogging random randomness at 5:21 in the am ... 'really now young lady this isnt becoming' ... hehe (im making it up as i go along)...somehow bumness here is completely inappropriate ... a little unbearable even ... and yet i can feel myself slipping into it slowly sneakily ...no! daymnit! stop it! now!

hmmmm maybe ill go watch a film now ... maybe bunty aur babliii .... finally ....

change these fairytales
that we chase after so
building blocks
come crashing down

and we build our castles up high in wavy skies
step through those tall doors and
fall
through
down
a thousand feet & four in the breath of sigh
 
======================================================

sorry girl
doesn�t work that way
i know its what they fed you 
but the lullabies were just words strung up on a tune
so go
smoke a cigarette or those blues away
fix up your hair and
the broken smile lying across that room

======================================================

~
watch them chase their happilyeverafters that they think they�re so owed

clouds at night .... a multitude of stars in the sky .... and a little version of me talking about how she thinks the sky is the coolest thing ever..she used to think that clouds were till she realized that they were a part of the sky .... :)))

I should have cried when she told me she was empty. Instead I put a finger in each ear and sang baa baa black sheep in my head.

fingers

fidget

 

wait-in-line

 

standing by for coffee or tea

 

lipstick

marks

on

the

mug/

mug rings on tables of glass

 

tongue licking off

the liquid

(excess)

 

from the

corners

 

ofyourmouth

 

and a stain

 

ofme

 

smudged across

the dirty plate of your memories

6:55 am. the early morning train out of montreal. not a patch of sky to be seen. all clouds. only clouds. it rained last night and all of a sudden somewhere between last minute packing and a cold-as-death shower its winter. 4 years zip by. just like that. switch lives. now. fuck i could use more time ...i know i know i want it all. everything.
i hate leaving. leaving anywhere. as you know. when im having too much fun ;). but yea i hate leaving. somehow i still havnt wrapped my head around the fact that im going. gone. i keep feeling like ill be back soon. how can i not... we all made breakfast plans after the sad goodbyes. i think we all knew it wouldnt happen but it was better then just leaving it at bye then.
i hate leaving.
but then well what more can i do other then carry the zombies the roomies the nerdies the crazies the bumming bumies and all the mtlingers in a big fat bubble and just keep it spinning ....
---------------------------------------------

 

-------------

-And Again-

-------------

 

Once again over the highway.
Over.

You'd think I'd be used to it by now. The glassy surface of the streets. The glow of yellow headlights in whitish grey mists.
There is a fat heavy sadness. Even more so then the first time. (Injury times over) it just sits there. Heavy. Fat.
(everything comes full circle) sometimes
 
the cab ride into the city was most exhilarating. I had no idea where I was living who I'd be staying with or what was in store for me. and yet I was thrilled excited ecstatic. I had left khi in a puddle of hugs and tears. Left for an unfamiliar life in an unfamiliar city. One where everything was strange. Everyone a stranger. Everyone excpt you. I don't think it would have been the same without you. my montreal was you.

And now
everything been flipped around and here I am heading back to the start. Back to everything iv known since I took my first breath and it just isn�t the same. Not with you.  
 
You feel secure in places you know. places you're comfortable with. Familiar. Adjusting has never been your thing. And here I am on my way back to everything old that doesn�t get more familiar then this and only now am I getting a slight sense of that deep dark disgusting feeling you tried to explain to a still half asleep me at 5 in the morning on that street before it became yours. Fuck. I can't believe now. here. 15 mins away from boarding the airplane I cant get away from the unshakable waves of panic and fear in the pit of my stomach. Im never like this. Not me. I�m always excited about going back. Going anywhere. Fuck. I guess the thing is that you fear the unknown whereas I welcome it. Welcome it for everything brilliant that it could bring. All those endless possibilities. (I heart possibilities) All that openness. Thing here is there really isn�t that much openness now. Not much room for endlessness. It is what it is. And I chose it so I should be fine with it. I should.

I will be.
I know I will � but its that with everything I can see coming my way the biggest and foremost are the worst of them. those. My fears. My deepest darkest that I would so much rather go through life without. Bury my head in the sand if I could. That I now have to confront. (its about time I know) but see life is just so much easier when you can postpone the unpleasant. "put it on a nice to-do list". But fuck� guess I cant do that forever can I�.. .

Seriously though its all I can do right now to stop my self from jumping another daymn bus right back to you.

Fuck I miss you.   

10:35 am .... waking up drunk is .......yea ... i thought i'd cry last night .... dont think i did...not more then a tear anyway ... but my heart did swell up more then a few times ...you know how it does with sadness so0o that just when it cant swell the sadness pours out in tears .... swelling feeling again ... not for the reasons i thought i would though! ... fuck me for getting up and reading that...and fuck u for writing that so early in the daymn morning ....urgh why do you have to be so you!! as if i didnt know already... i dont fucking know .....

God ...alone at 10 am ...unable to sleep ...listening to untouochable face .... still drunk from last night ...im definatly going to cry now!...

"you look like a photograph of yourself taken from far far away....i wont know what to do i wont know what to say"

and if we change ...change beyond repair .... things are never the same ....not for more then point 6 seconds anyway...after that ...i dont know ...how do you stop it going down hill from there?
fuck the music keeps changing ...its so fucking loud...so jarring and it takes me a while to find the controls.... too fucking early for this music...

...too fucking early...

============
========

-
this is about me .... me with the stale smoky smell of last night in my hair and smudges of mascara under my eyes.... i need to sort this out. its not about anyone else. its me.
...inklings of certain realizations and a hangover now .....

though i have to say ...the best part of these realizations is watching them crash and burn on human contact...
fucksonofabitch ...heh...

i like the rain….. it poured all through last night…. still is..

i like the way it comes down so brazenly ....soaking everything that comes in its way ... unabashedly it colors everything in its own … every drop set to speak its mind and flood the night with its own feeling ….

some nights i wish i could flow like the rain

i lay in bed half awake ...till every drop of sleep had been muscled out of there...got out of bed because i wanted to now.
another day ..(so close to the last few) ..
...the haze of the past few days seems to have lifted (a bit) .. getting out of that funk i hope
trying to will myself to at least
God
i can be such a fucking retard sometimes .... i still am.
seriously sometimes i dont know what do w/ myself. i can see the road im heading down and i really dont want to go there.
how do i pull the brakes?
how do i change?

and the thing is i can see how stupid im being about this. (though am i) but i cant help it. my whole being gets warped around something and after that theres nothing else. silly imature hysterical silly silly dont want to be....
this is it
near the end .... and i dont want it to be like this..not now. i really dont ...
fuck im so0o0o childish -snap out of it! now!

seriously when the fuck will i grow up?? give it up
theyr right! i need to get over this shit and just face up to life now! stop feeling like

no but seriously God why this?!? of all the things ... this!! what do i do w/ this?? where do i put it?? ... does it matter ...will it matter ?? and if it does then what ..fuck everything else because of it ....? oh God! im so0o sick of it now!
i need a personality overhaul! now! someone anyone get to it please!!!!

...."and all the lights that lead us there are blinding"

bickering.67 voices. inside

my head. outside. ugly me. you. your pieces here and there. remains from that wreck earlier that day.

 

im concentrating now on the soles of my feet. i really would much rather look elsewhere. the harder i scratch the surface the deeper it burns. burns inside but somehow that feels right.

 

i need a smoke

right abt now. cant. unsympathetic faces outside. inside. you asleep me wide eyed staring into dark walls surround me closing in sometimes i sit 

in hollow space

space

seperates 

me. from them. everyone. everyones alone. i am you are. 

 

he had an attack while sleeping in an airport. woke up in the ambulance. he lives alone. 

 

he lives alone thats the scary part

but what abt him? what if something's wrong? really wrong?

well abhi we dont know naa..but if he has another one when he's home alone... thats whats scary 

 

we're all alone

 

what we care about. what effects me now is only me and mine. thats scary. sad somehow

but the what else

 

would i should i. yes i should. but i wont. fuck. 

 

i cant read over what i write. disconnected pieces of my mind for now

w/ 2 lumps of sugar? 

yes please. 

 

fuck

this is so f-ed up

seriously. you know that story about that little ant. the one that never gave up. well what if she had just kept trying and trying and trying to climb that wall and had just never succeeded  and the actual big lesson was move on you dumfuk its not meant to happen. never was. whos to say ... anyway. that was a story. keep pushing keep on pushing ...isnt that how that ditty goes.

fuck those people whov moved mountains!! a big fuck you to you all!!!

 

can someone please. for-the-love-of-God throw me down a boulder if you can w/ some fucking directions. fuck

i sound like a broken record.

i hate that.

 

i hope its a fucking anvil that comes my way.

unattractive cunt

 

gasp. she didnt really say that did she. well fuck you.

 

so go.

 

im curled up now in a ball falling fast and i want to screm spew my frustrated spitballs in your direction. anyone really will do for now.

but you see i cant. im tied down bound up all fucking fucked up

fucking unpretty

inside

outside

 

12.09.05

sometimes in the a.m.

b/w tears fear & nightmares

too smily too bossy too aunty too girly

too chubby too cutesy too toothy too boring

too unattractive too feministy too spotty too chinky

too angry too golu too fat too fucking fat

too used to too wavy too wonky too much tummy

too loud too silly too nagging too stubborn

much too much

never fucking enough

 

 

i left today. its not the first time. and i will be coming back. But the next time i leave i wont. not for a very very long time at least. too long.

 

As the bus took the highway out of the city it poured. the rain drenched everything. everything got wet. my eyes included.

 

"the rain stains the streets a darker black"

 

this city this montreal that i love gazing at from these highways (i heart highways) isnt my mtl. mine is on the other side of road. but still. mtl. with its old buildings . its quaintness. its green rooftops and circular domelike tops of churches. once bronze maybe copper. now green. brilliant (im)perfect unreal green. (i remember a picture i took in my first year. it was so unusual to me. so beautiful. still is)

 

the city looks different today. wet. darker. A heavy mist rests on houses . grey. it makes everything seem closer somehow (if only because all that is in the distance is little more then a haze today) the shapes quickly fade into the background. and the background; the sky. a light. grey so light its almost white a great grand plain plane. i think im relieved the city im leaving today isnt the same sunny city of this summer. i think that would have made it worse. it would remind me of what i soon wont be returning to.

yes. this weather is perfect for today. 

 

Soon all this will be covered in white. and in cold. and the great expanse of greyish white will take on a pink maybe purple hue. some nights it will be orange. i'll miss the flurries.

 

08.09.05

12:03pm

 

its wierd ... writing w/o reading or even being able to look over mine comments or anything.... being internet-less xcpt for in spurts ... urgh annoying disconnectedness

(CONT'D...)

fuck. mind numbing beats one after the other. spending 3 mins 49 secs waiting for the lyric. sorry the one lyric. one word. maybe 3 if youre lucky. so not in the mood. for this music. right now. Def the wrong mood, see now i had found a comfortable zone in this place/place in this zone. and hes fucked it up. put a giantannoyingasfuck crack in it. why is it so difficult to relate to the people youre related to? i think calvin said that. smart kid that calvin. smart wrd/thought bubbles. him and hobbes too. i want to be hobbes. i could be hobbes. i am the hobbes. bow down now. humans! ~ yerrghhh* (making classic hobbes grossed out face)

so the music lets up you think its ebbing away. excites your imagines into believing in the possibilities now of better music. more apt. infinite possibilities. which one would you choose...

but.

just then it sweels and rises again. fuck. a zombie chopping up chicken in the kitchen lets out a woohoo of appreciation. no. back to the ugly zone. Canl someone change the GOD-DAMN music please? Can anyone even hear me? Do i even exist? ... would it matter if i didnt? really. would it? to a few i guess but for the most .... prob wouldnt make much of a difference either way...some days that bothers me ...luckily. most days it doesnt.

that there are more and more people i keep adding to my do-not-like list as the years pass bothers me. that my fondness/lurrves for a lot of them is constantly at odds w/ what i think of them as people ... then agains whos to say. everyone gets by. if i am still questioning my own decesions ....then well ....what then. my selfish maynot be your selfish but i still indulge in mine you in yours. i can justify it from my end ofcourse but can you justify me from yours? why would ... would they? but would they justify me from theirs. maybe maybe not. i dont know. if i would myself. crystal clear intentions aside. conflicting arguements apart. i still dont ... . im not ok with what it this will mean on/from the outside. fuck.

how do people stay like this. write. rewrite. think. overthink. entangled in webs of guilt indecision stasis failure fear spirally downwards... if i spent anymore time here i would suffocate in a matter of minutes. submerged. unable to control the levels dangerously rising.

"and in this moment i am happy"

Thank You God.

i worry for those that cant push thier way up.out. i wish i could reach in and pull them out. forever.

i cant.

its not my place. i stand on the sidelines and watch. sort of like when youre watching a horror film and you know the monsteris in the room and you want to stop her from going inside but you cant and she does and gets her flesh... ok when i started i thought this would be a kinda funny sorta analagy ..but umm ...not so much ... yea

fuck.

i love that word. so much in just one word. fuck. everyone says i swear too much. well i do. i know. ill stop soon i guess.... when i go back and change into that shy demure quieter version of my former self. Fuck! Fuck That! i dont care what you say/think whatever. i just hope i never turn the volume down (as many of my frnds would love for me to do). Ever. so there

01.09.05
10:26pm

(I LIKE MY HANDWRITING AND THE FLOW OF THIS PEN)

soft slow sweet notes rising and falling settle gently on the thick air filling this dark corner. seperate.apart. nestling this furry bundle of secrets.

i guess this hole can be good for somethings sometimes. ... the stale smell of old cigarette butts clogs my nostrils. urgh. move the ashtray. if only at an arms length . heh. arms lengthe distance.. hehe...

introspective. now. perhaps. give. what do i give? do i give? caught up rolled wrapped up in my own. what have i done?

fucking dick

asshole

what a bitch! .......................?

yea i can see that. its not settling for. not giving in. not even compromising. its growing up. realizing. he good to/for me. be goor for/to him.

you think that people would have enough of silly love songs

i look around me and i see it isnt so

love makes us sad/glad we are fools (heh.)

~

~ Freeze framed. beauty captured/capture beauty. snap. pictures freeze moments. memories. constructed then to fit the 4 by 6/ 5 by 7. all smiles. now. say cheese. please.

... cont'd...

even though i'v come to expct it ...i SHOULD expct it (by now)... the ability of people to be such UTTER DICKS is just..fuckk.... i dunoo i just dont fucking get it !!  
..... i REALLY need to stop letting them get to me....

 

shhhhh! i promise i wont tell....

"I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;"

-- The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock

-

=====================================================================

-

--

so tell me if you were given a day, just one, without consequences... what would you do w/ it?

one day of your life that that had no bearing whatsoever on the rest of it....

no rules no restrictions no aprehensions no complications. Do with it what you will! .... what would you?

where would you start? who would you offend? what risks would you take? what Absolutely U.n.s.p.e.a.k.a.b.l.e. Acts would you commit??

come on spill it! the darkest of you.... go ahead ... use the anonymous option ...i really dont care .... i just want to know ...

if this reality werent bound up in codes of rights/wrongs/morals/ethics/duty/responsibility/ what will he think/she feel...all of the chains that hold this wreck together.... that ground us (for better or worse) ...if they were to unravel just for a day ... how far would you go?? ?

puzzled

... and still... its like at a party a bowl is presented to you ... w/ so many peices of so many puzzles... everyone reaches in but only gets to grabs a hand full each.... and then each one tries to build their puzzle which ever ones they get.... knowing however that no matter how lucky you get, you will inevitablty be missing peices ... so then what ...do beg for another go and grab another handful or make do with your unfinished puzzle and try your luck at a different game? ("Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's." ... like thats any consolation)... either way you look around the room and all you see is a bunch of people either desprately trying to make the wrong pieces fit into the wrong puzzles or obliviously smiling past the gaping holes in their puzzles that they are hoping to God dont actually exist....

Za Gaman: life? or an 80s Japanese TV Show?

some days. just make you question everything. every single thing youve done. every decision youve ever made. everything you think you are. everything youve changed to become who you think you are. seriously though what i want to know is who the fuck vetoed the idea of the flashing neon signs that should have been pointing in the Right direction. Or even of flashing personal navigators "Danger! Danger! Do Not Go there! This is where you need to be going." "This here. This is what you ought to be doing"
"This is definatly going to be the better choice for you. Definately!".... Seriously both brilliant ideas. I really would have been fine with either one. But ....No! He has to leave us here. in the middle of all This. and we have to try and figure This out on our own. All by our helpless stupid stupid little selves! Well thats not to say that we'v been left Completely in the dark. i mean we do have the basic given guidlines; Right. Wrong. one goes to heaven. one to hell.. yada yada yada.. and ofcourse the little voice/s in the back our heads (read: a conscience if one/a reason to seek help if more then one)... but hey how's this for a sadistic twist lets make the way to hell waaaayy more fun then the other one and watch the little bastards squirm.. .daymn. :S (*squirm*squirm*)
.. not to be blasphemous or offensive but doesnt life just seem like one of those crazy Japanese (torture) "reality/game show where contestants endure a variety of humiliating and/or painful competitions to see who can tolerate it the longest". some days that defination rings waaay more true then it should....
*sigh

====

"we better have a good explanation
for all the fun that we had
'cuz they are coming for us, babe
and they are going to be mad" .....

hahah hearing these words abhi falls so0o well w/ whats going on in my head .... i *heart* ani difranco :P

There exists a world bound up in straight lanes. With routes, that guide, divide and direct. Constructed such that, its bends curve, with precision, along the narrow and wide. To plot a course through these territories requires tedious commitment; however, its present obscurity is eclipsed by virtue of the bounty of clear skies up ahead in the distance. In the left corner of that world, a little over its edge, Possibilities though they may lie under darker skies, are infinite. Dangling from that very edge, a different world turns over to give way to all that the former has shut its door on. All conventions, restrictions, distinctions are here blurred. Thrown. To the wind. The rules of nature overturned. The nature of man disassembled. Enveloped in the smoke emanating from that air, shapes turn colour to embrace another life. And now hanging from that edge, I dip the tips of my toes in that swirling, twirling water, which, if it were to, would sparkle as it flowed in whichever way it was that I ordained it to. Lying in their shade, I would almost allow clouds to drape my psyche in a haze of colourful sensations. Of myths. Vivid and alive. But now. Head out of the sand, I dust off the fairy dust of make belief and slowly make my way back. Back up towards the straight and narrow.

Stretched out beyond
your years, my dear
Black ravens across skies;
A dirty omen
Broken lullabies dispel
busted dreams now
Splintered lives surround
you and i
Pick up these pieces, dear
Pull yourself together now
We have miles to go, my dear
miles to cover before we surface

-- Ani Difranco

"Fuel" --

She was only six, but she knew just what she wanted. She sat in the middle of her glass box and got to work, building the world that would be her. She adorned her box with strings of happiness, stars of love and fairy lights, brilliant. Her ideas, dreams, and thoughts floated around the roof of the box, sometimes slipping out through the edges. But they always made their way back to her. The walls of her box, which she had painted orange, fuchsia and bright red, peeked through her shiny curls. Curls that framed her cherubic features. Not yet beautiful, but endearing, nonetheless. If she did this right, life within this box could be perfect. Spectacular, even. Just like her black sparkles which showed themselves only when the light played with them and twinkled in a certain way.
There were five corners in her box, each one a small, dark pocket, of a different hue. She loved the corners just as much as she loved her light and her colors. She kept a different ornament in each corner. In one corner was a bowl. An intricately carved fish bowl, with tiny little tears, in place of fish, swimming round in circles. Another corner held a doll; a mirror image of herself, only a little prettier, a little brighter, a little more inspired. The third corner, the one she rarely visited, held the scroll of parchment, in a wooden, square box. Endless as it was, the document held all the names of all the people she knew and loved. Every time she visited the corner, one by one each name would be ruthlessly rubbed out till the parchment was left blank. The names would reappear after a while but only to be erased once again (over and over again). In the next corner she kept a little porcelain dragon. Painted so faithfully, that if you held it too close you could almost feel the burn, from the fire it breathed. The fifth corner, the final and darkest, was fitted with the world's strongest steel vault and in it, cushioned in a custom made velvet pouch, laid her heart. Her box complete, she looked around at her handiwork with pride. Everything in place; everything perfect. Slowly, she got up from the center of the box and made her way to the tiny opening on the outer most wall. She then bent down, squeezed herself into a speck and crawled out of the box. Once outside, the little girl with the shiny curls, walked away. Looking back but once.

23.08.05-24.08.05

3:55pm

sluglug

feeling sluggish still! so0o so0o sluggish.
"i am a slug."
"i am the slug!"
"de. slug."
.... yea i thnk im boredd-ed!
urgh urgh ...got to get back in it! "just gotta get out ...just gotta get right out of hereeee *musiccc* ... aaahh best part of day so far ... i love the bohemian rhapsody ... untill ofcourse they changed the station back to the crap thats even worse then mix 96 ... bloody hip hop! the hard core kind! aaaaaaaargh backtosomebodykillmenowmode (suspicion: that may have had more to do w/ my headache then the eye thing) And that floor manager of ours is such a sneaky little fellow ..usually he blares the music but everytime one of us switches it to the rock station he turns the music down so0o low you can barely hear it... (yeah. intrefering w/ our calls my left buttcheek) and then before you know it the music is so0o low ur not really paying attention to it anyway so0o he goes and changes the station back and you dont even know what happened. sneaky!! little!! bastardo!!
"insigniffii-cunt...little bastardddddd!!" hahahha where was that from ...fuck this goldfishness... aaaaahhhhh ... i love how i can forget all other things and write such longwinded passionate rants about the frikking music at work! :P
seriously where would we be without these silly little things to distract us away from the bigger crap! i love it! reminds me of how on TV theres one character fucking up in the background and some little kid is left to distract the main person from looking at the fuck up! heheh its funny! ..... hmmm ... ok i dont think these meds are doing me much good .... physically or mentally ....
urghh ... hate the idea of being on meds .... esp when i cant see thier effects immediatemont... it just bothers me ... like a lot .... but no0o!! must not think about such stuff .. daymn wheres that little kid now .... heh o well ... posting on my other blog now ...(go through my profile) just because ... :P

"Your future is as boundless as the lofty sky"

well if its in the fortune cookie... who am i to question it? :P

- her words -

Her hands fit snug between her legs, warm and fleshy. The act, however, afforded her little comfort as she sat on the edge of her seat, afraid. Afraid, she might fall off that very edge and never again be able to make her way back up.

Despite the clutter and the noise, white noise, her mind spun around various versions of that popular hit. The one she had been listening to on the radio the day before. The one that had been remixed/resung/redone so many times and by so many different artists that no one even remembered how fresh the original had once sounded or what voice had belted it out that very first time.

With the sting of a biting remark, reality caught up with her again and she felt a little dizzy. A little dry-mouthed, all at once. She felt the clutter closing in on her and it made her want to Scream. Yell. Throw things and watch them shatter just as she watched everything else shatter around her. And, at the same time, she wanted to cry. Wail like a baby, with little baby whimpers, and then be tucked under the covers and put to sleep with a soothing lullaby and a kiss on the forehead.

She swayed then, in an attempt to distract herself, or was it just habit. Back and forth, back and forth, in one place. What she needed was to be heard. Just once, she needed them all to just shut the fuck up and hear her. Hear what she had to say. And care. Give a damn, just Once.

And they almost heard her. Because she almost said it aloud. But just as the words were ready to rise up and out, she quickly whisked them down, and back inside. Afraid. Of falling. That downward spiral. And then, she heard the din give way to her thoughts, her words:

"Stop it! Stop screaming! Don't you even care that I am in the room while you behave like this... that I can see you like this... like animals! Put an end to this nonsense now! Right now. Please."

But it wasn't her. It was her thoughts, but not her tongue. Her's was stuck. Caught at the back of her throat. These words came from a mouth; thin and precise like her own, but smaller. A smaller yet stronger, version of her frail self, nineteen years younger but somehow more herself then she was today. It was the force of those words, hanging in the dry, stifling air, that pushed. And finally, she fell. Fell off that Goddamn edge.

23.08.05
3:39am

:)

Your Feet

When I cannot look at your face
I look at your feet.
Your feet of arched bone,
your hard little feet.
I know that they support you,
and that your sweet weight
rises upon them.
Your waist and your breasts,
the doubled purple
of your nipples,
the sockets of your eyes
that have just flown away,
your wide fruit mouth,
your red tresses,
my little tower.
But I love your feet
only because they walked
upon the earth and upon
the wind and upon the waters,
until they found me.

--Pablo Neruda

hold on to your skirts, little girl.
screw the apple,
apple.
sunshine
it takes away
----- - - - - - - - - - - - - -the pain

(where the hell did they tell you that?)

round. pink.
a bundle of joy

(thats what you would think)

lift off the covers
now!
take them - ---- - -- - - - - away.
. already

its enough!
enough sunshine

"where the hell are my shades"

youre back

as i lie asleep
lulled by your warm breath
so close
i touch the surfaces of other worlds
and
i feel perfect

she misses out on the words that would inspire the songs floating above her waiting only for her to reach out and pick them out of the crimson sky. thick bold streaks run down puffy cheeks as she digs within herself desprate to come out up with something gold. gold studded with gems is what her tiny little heart aches for. a fist full of speckled air is what she draws out. Dissapointed her eyes well up but she holds on to her crystals well and wills them back within where she envisions them draping themselves over her corners her shadows so that in the end her insides will be painted in a dazzling sheet of a silverwhite that will reflect the little hopes the little ideas the little aspirations of her little heart and multiply them till they line the lines of her being and fill her completly. and then she will forget. that were she to reach out and touch them her fingers would sweep only through thin air for their reality just like her own remains to this day an illusion. that of reflections that may have been a little more real perhaps in a life not her own...

half a step to the left today
in a place where notes fly
off the handle
in the spin of a second
were it not
tommorow
where
we would begin again
again to the pain that will start up in my veins
again between the strings
that you will string
to string me along
to the tunes now
that your everything
tunes out
to become one once again with my own
everything

a night of disasters... i slept terribly. writhing in a sort of twisted itch-scratch pain of sorts, with unresolved agitations felt like hitting, screaming , just crying... but there wasnt anyone around to hold me while i cried....so0o o well .... i guess what followed then was in a way to follow....
.. a blur of tragedy. it was expected. somehow. she had known it would happen. i dont know why i dont know how. and she had laid it out so i would know what to do. inside the big burgundy drawer. that i was there in that place without the sobs the sniffles the screams brings tears to my eyes now. thinking back. i really dont want to think about it. just walking, armed with the nessecary documents in hand (what a strange thing to dream about.. documents..even in my dreams i do what needs to be done) walking forever through a dark corridor, i cried. but not as i should have. not as i (will). fuck. i dont want to think about this. and yet it did not end there. that one stopped and another much worse.
...the fire. that stopped it all. city in a grid lock. looking upar say ...like we were looking last night. with smoke rising. covering everything. and us on the other side. in a car of strangers. but they took us where we had to go. though wouldnt take us back. and then ... i. i let her go. i think iv dreamt this before. i think iv let her go before. i dont know what happens to her. ie. if anything bad does. but how the fuck could i do something as stupid as that. why have i done something as stupid as that before. i know i'd hold on to her with every particle in my being. and yet in my dreams i let her go and never forgive my self for that.
the news of others passing on during the disaster makes me think. one name i dont know one that i do. the stark difference in the way my emotions turn to the news of the name i know to that i dont. the news is the same. the happenings are the same and yet the sense of loss is only present when you have a face to the name that you must erase from the names and the faces you once knew. the other is just a peice of news. sad.....
so yea now im awake and i dont know what to do w/ myself. they called as soon as i woke up. so i know everyone's fine. its not like i had a crazy premonition (like you feel like you have when you see these things) .... ("impending doom"). so yea everyones fine. but i still cant shake the feeling off. the sadness. when the fuck with this crap that has nicely settled and made itself comfortable at the bottom of my stomach go away .....
crap..

my body is revolting! like not as in revolting revolting ...but revolting against me!! its giving me a series of tiny little "fuck-you"s ... and now theyr climbing up my fingers! ...and that too the middle finger more then any other... hmmm .... fuck. i really need to get myself cheked out!

oh another more personal note ... right now i am very drawn to the idea of peeling off the white bits off my left eye and slicing up the layers of skin on the palms of my hands as well as the soles of my feet into tiny little paper thin peices and then jamming them all into a bucket full of dry ice!!

daymn i hate allergies! Damn them!!
Damn them all i say!!! >:(

just saw spanglish ...and some of the scenes ... little things ..stayed... like when he's standing next to her and has his arm around and say something like "right now my hand is the only part of my body thats sane. the rest of me wants to jump off a bridge". it just fits. so well.

Some mornings I get a sinking burning feeling deep down in my gut. When I leave the house on those days all I can think of is making my way back under my warm covers to somehow will the feeling and the "impending doom" away.

the world
were it
flipped,
tilted over
on to a side.
and
everyone
scattered,
far
into the night

hanging on
to
stars
as thier guides,
i believe,
you
and
i,
would find
another way.
were it
even
if it were
on
another day

we'd make our way
back.
to lives,
meant to be.
life.
as it were/(is)
for you
and
for me.

urghh ...shitness at the pit of my stomach!! no matter how hard i try to be happy absorbing myself in mindless distractions ...it keeps coming back. "you live in a world of your own"... this disdainful comment in an msn msg this morning... discerned im assuming from my msn nick! well you know what if i want to! what if i want to stick my head in the sand and pretend all this shit is just not happening!! its not for forever obviously but just till i can.... i mean fuck i dont have a whole lot of time to myself now and if i want to enjoy these days and not kill myself w/ depression over something that i can not do anything about and believe me iv tried then what!!!?!... serious what the fuck. what can i do from here anyway?! what?!.
is it wrong that iv accepted already ... that my way of dealing with this now is ..well ok this is it ... and im not a freaking flipping out emotional wreck about it anymore (ie to the extent i was) ... fuck i hate this shit!!! i hate such comments! and i feel like a bitch for wanting to shout out well fuck you for having a problem with the fact that half way across the world my nicks seem to suggest i might be having a little bit of fun and a little bit of stress and a little bit of everything that has nothing to do w/ you and your problems!! fuck!!

uff what intiha of bumnessity

....so i think its quite safe to say that i really havent written/painted/done/said anything at all really worth reading/painting/doing/hearing in quite sometime now ... and the ultimate bumness of it all is that im quite content! heh ..or maybe thats the reasonness of it all... :p

so0o walking or rather dashing into work at 9:01 am obviously already groggy as hell i was greeted by the song!! the simple plan song!! the reeeeeeally reeeeeallly bad killmenowplease one! the one that makes me want to meet the band just so i can repeatedly stab each one of them with a reallysharpreallyhardreallyrustedreallyblunt object!! .... urghhh! "how could this happen to me"?? seriously you write such shitty 'rondoo'tothecore songs and and your still asking that question!! ... so0o yea after having to sit through THAT 1st thing in the morning and it only figures that the rest of the work day wasnt as a thursdayworkday should have been....
they should ban such song i mean come on!! what a dhabba!
and that radio station!!! the one they INSIST on listening to each and every single day after day after day after friggin day INSISTS on playing the same daymnsaddaymn songsss every three hours!!! killmepleasenow! so get this ... even though i ran home and tried to therapize myself with an hour or so of decent listening music my maochisticasfuck brain picks out all the crappiest of the crap songs (that iv been bitching out all week) and now theyre stuckspinningstuck inside my head! on repeat!! ONLY the shit ones! ONLY! (i can so0o see God having such a laugh right about now!)
o0h well .... if thats what it takes to keep Him happy and the weather this beautiful! well then my wonky brain at His service!!!
but yea so0o incase i havnt shouted it out enough alreadyyy : I LOVE SUMMER!!!! :) :) :)
*ahhhhh ~ sigh of contentment*

how do people do this? this!! this fucking mess!
what do you do when youre thrown into a corner. fucking cornered! then what?! how do you get out when youre between a rock and a hard place ... a fucking stubborn rock and an equally so hard place!! you get this far and you realize exactly the extent of the fuckedupness of it all ... no one is ok...no one is fine ...no one is coping well .. theyr fucking managing to barely scrape by with thier sanity in tact and that too just barely!

..too too tired of this .... will post later ...

it wasnt his fault. he was plucked. out of his own life. and placed there. placed by a force. unseen. Large.
or was it?
A gust of wind it was.
perhaps....or maybe it was just a puff..?
small then? inconsequential....?

muttering after the lights went out.....

choking on the words. (half-words).
lodged
at the back of your throat
SPEAK! Now!Spit it Out.
Bring them up to the surface and feel them crumble at the sight of air.
or Then again.
Breathe them back in. Quick! NOW! Its the only place they will be safe.You
will be safe.

=========

rub out those lines. scratch them.... the lines. on hands. start over
if you it be possible. rewrite. and what could/would it be? Another face or anothers'. your own.... smudged. erased. Someone else's
insecurities. would they be. real. as real as your own wrapped up delusions.

Each
part

pulsates

Each particle
In sync
with...

the Wisps
of
smoke
Play

around
eyes

the mouth


savours

weightlessness

touching
Each

part

i write sometimes. sometimes. to my self. mostly to others. it seems that the words that need to be let out need that only when there's something in the way. in the way of perfect cloud filled skies. sitting back with colours swirling around me whirling smiles from all directions. And yet it seems indispensable every so often that i need to come back to this little corner towards the other side of the scenic route.. to reboot or something or the other.. sink a little... to fully revel in the pleasure of swelling back to full mast. i enjoy now draping myself with a little touch of dark. not really real ofcourse. obscure sometimes. But there.
with reason. reason fucking unreasonable. how strange. strange. Just strange how. the world brings about such shifts and takes such turns. places you only to be replaced. deal with the real deal once in a while it was before. now it's the entire show. that's it. THIS is it.
its what its going to be like from now. onto the end of never. one after the other. "A series of unfortunate events" still to be seen. placed against the odds and told to make it through the pile of shit and come out clean on the other side. that was a phenomenal film. But no. he was the only man to have accomplished such a twisted task. that’s how the line goes anyway "the ONLY man i know who crawled through 500 yards of shit and came out clean on the other side".
What the fuck is the point. What?:
What!?! of any of this.. "LIFE, n : the whim of several billion cells to be you for a while"
urghhh.....what a place. what a script.
real. real life as it gets. realer each day. realer.. yea heh that’s not even a word..but you get the point. Fucking brilliant!

the dye
cast
clung
to her skin
staining it
deep
a scarlet red

picking at her
pores
goose bumps
on flesh
velvety
soft

pressed
up
against the wall
breathing strained
inhale. exhale. (inhale again)

with in confines
these spaces
(could she have been)
someone else
anyone
in this time this place

this surface
stark
plush
red raw red (today)


==============


will this flight of fancy be all then?

Ye jo halka halka suroor hai - Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan

.

words of days

in a day
that took away
the misconceptions that
breathe down your neck
that dictate the directions
in which you may breathe

in that day
i realized
a number of things
seven
maybe 17

"Tango is much more than a bunch of steps; tango is a way to communicate using
your body, tango is an embrace for three minutes and tango is the dance of
expression with infinite emotions." -- Fernanda Ghi and Guillermo Merlo

'First We Dance' by Bill Brauer .....

...what an appropriate title... if i had it my way ... thats what it would be all about ... this entire charade ..an elaborate dance (well considering that is what it is figurativly afterall) but no ..in my world thats what it would be literally .... All about the Dance.
You start with a dance ...and just keep dancing!!

dancing smiling dancing a world of happiness drumbeats music rhythms and more smiles no confusions no delusions nothing but the music leading your body leading you. aah bliss...

whats in a list

exhausted!! ...seems to be the norm lately ....
night of craziness when leaving... craziness again coming back.... strange sort of symmetry life has... things go round in circles. round and round. round again. i dont know if they come back to square one nessesarily or just spiral in some wayward direction or the other....
cant think much right now ... everything seems to be going in slow motion ... what else can i do but play this perpetual fucking dodge the ball and smile the whole way through ...because honestly what else is there to do.

smile
la camisa negra is playing on the tv in the background ... that makes me smile...

i was thinking about it today (while looking at the clouds ofcourse).... getting through things through everything that life flings at you. and i thought about "things that make me happy"... that make me smile. thats all its about afterall. its how i'll ever get through this. this everything and the everything that will follow...
and i was thinking wouldnt it be great if we could list the things.. round them up nicely making sure not to spill them all over the place ofcourse and keep them in a box ... all to our selves... at our disposal ...to open up the box at any time at all and smile ....as needed.
that would be nice.

:) made me think of the raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens song ... hehheh .... i wonder if people already have such lists and boxes and if they manage to pull from them what they need ...as needed...

'La mariee', Marc Chagall







"It feels like how love should be ... floating through a dark blue sky."
"With a goat ... playing a violin."
"Well, yes. Happiness isn't happiness without a violin-playing goat."

- Notting Hill