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