Cos we're friends like that
Monday, April 25, 2011

Like music that keeps playing in your head long after it has stopped.


Like the woman you still see as beautiful after she has turned into a monster.


Like the rainbow you missed as you walked home with your head down. 


Like the pages you skimmed through and read nothing.


Like the way you say "I love you" but do you really want to? Do you really?


Like staring out of the window and glassy eyes stare back at you. But there is no fear. It is a mutual understanding of the unknown. 


Like the sound of howling deep within your dreams that take you back to where you came from- a land where sound merges into light and light merges into a vortex and the land subsides. 


Be afraid of the one who writes with no force on the paper.


Be afraid of the absence of will and humanity.


Be afraid of indelible writing with no point of view. 


Be afraid of this. 


loved on 9:09 PM

Friday, April 8, 2011

Never want to be old 
And I don't want dependence 


It's no fun to be told 
That you can't blame your parents anymore 





If you say that you can listen to woes without pain, you are merely a listener and do not empathize. To empathize is to open that door of sorrow and stand in the same room as the person. You see what he sees and feels what he feels. Yet you cannot truly understand, for you cannot stand in the exact same position he is standing nor feel what is in his heart. But nevertheless, you are beside him and that itself is a comfort.



I'm finding it hard 
To hang from a star 
Don't want to be 
Never want to be old  




And you're standing in your room but the furniture have taken the left and right walls as the floors. So which is the floor? Which side am I supposed to be on? 
TRY THE MIDDLE WAY.
But I can't walk in the middle! Is that the floor?
No.
You fall through so suddenly because that is not the floor. There is no floor. You did not define it.Therefore it did not exist. 


Qns: How much dirt is there in a 50 by 50 by 50? 
How much wood does a wood chuck chuck if a wood chuck could chuck wood?
Ans: None! It is a hole! 

And you fall and fall and fall, faster and faster, faster faster faster. A short low humming begins. It builds up all around. Now where did I leave that pen?
There is no time left. This will not be like Alice in Wonderland. You know you will not land softly. If you hand catches anything on the sides a finger will go.


You are falling faster and faster. You know it is ending. Split second now, you screw your eyes...






You prepare...the lovely, the beautiful explosion. 
There are five kinds of healing. A healing of the attitude, the natural immune system, medical science, miracles, and...dea-
But suddenly a scream is emitted from the pit. A howl, a screech, a shriek. It goes straight to heaven and pierces the skies.
You hang motionless in the air

Sullen and bored the kids stay 
And in this way they wish away each day? 
Stoned in the mall the kids play 
And in this way wish away each day? 


Humming humming droning around me. 

I don't really know
If I care what is normal
And I'm not really sure
If the pills I've been taking are helping

You cannot move at all apart from your limbs. The blood is rushing to your brain. 
It's like you're trapped in jelly. You can't go up, you can't go down. 
Humming is closing in. 
The whispers, hisses, "Ssssa kaa tuu, si! Come back. Come, princessssss. You don't belong. Come back. Siiiiii..."
The drums, the drums. You hear them so clear. 
They are not drums, they are your heartbeat. Irregular, speeding up, the rush, feel the rush.

You neither sink nor float. 
You thrash about but you get nowhere. The jelly around you is mushed up but you go nowhere. The humming is louder. The whispers deafen, "Sssssso, princessssss. Come kingdom kind coooome come with meeeeee.", "Comeeeee...", "Come, come, come hereeee..."

Liquid is slowly forming around your face.

Liquid is slowly pooling into the spaces you made. You cannot breathe. You push the jelly away but more liquid flows in. 
How much jelly will it take to drown yourself? Now you cannot see. It is all dark and feathery cold touches brush you by. Ssssaaaa...loveeeelyyyy...
You call out but bubbles churn out. 'Green...gurgh...'
The humming is too loud the drumming, the whispers!
"Sssaaa, kuuu...pretty lady won't you playyyyy with meeeee?"


They say that hearing is the last to go.
The humming rises to a crescendo. 




I'm wasting my life
Hurting inside
I don't really know
And I'm not really sure 





loved on 11:39 PM

Monday, April 4, 2011



loved on 12:09 PM