Monday, December 25, 2006

cuddles in the kitchen

Its true when they say that 'you know when someone loves you because they say your name in a certain way'.I never noticed it before,but now that I do,it makes me smile.I have come to realize that a story becomes too boring when you insert the word 'I' into it.And I've also realized,that I myself do it far too much.Makes me feel like I know something when I really dont.Its so much easier when things remain a mystery and only the person who writes it actually knows whats going on.Its like a big,blatant,well-hidden secret.



A glass of milk does not satisfy her hungry stomach,but she keeps on scrubbing the bathroom floor in silent protest.Its not because she was asked to.She doesn't even have to.Its because she wants to.She asked for a life where she would feel no pain even after standing for nine hours straight.Where she'd eat a larger-than-life borrowed marshmallo standing in an empty 0 degrees parking lot with only a single jacket on,wondering where her car was.And she waited for the silent snow to fall behind her,so when she turned around,it was a winter wonderland.Where everything is white and pristine like mental instituitions.She notices the slight spray of freckles on Kim's milk coffee skin and thinks 'Wow,she's so unique'.She laughs at Stephanie's innate sense of subtle humour.She watches everyone following her and thinks 'But who am I following?'A single txt msg is recieved late after all is done and tucked away.It makes her feel glad.Glad to be alive.Glad for all the things she does and doesnt have.Happy glad.

Sunday, December 17, 2006

moon child

someday I will get in trouble for being the person I am.Snooty,authoritative,conceited.How I lie,cheat and steal just like everyone else.How I wish at least once a day for something bad to happen to someone I may not even know.How there is always the thought of 'me' in every sentence.And that is the day my self-proclaimed 'goddess' title will be taken away from me.That is the day I will think 'well.had to happen someday'.And be sad.



Iron and wine is god.Absolutely amazing.His every single song makes me think about different things,stories settling around lovers,youth,nature,lost families.They make you think about distress and despair,and how if you actually think about it,they're beautiful feelings.Only he can make them beautiful.'One of us will die inside these arms'.



This infant got super close to his mom today.Rubbing his nose into her sleeve.Zach Braff from Garden State came to mind.'This is true love'.Maybe it is the truest form of love,a mother and her child.No matter if you're telling her to fuck off,like Alyssa,or thinking about her sitting in the next room,like Rasti.Or simply thinking about what you're life's gonna be like if she died,like me and Ahmar.


I should've had clementines instead of eggs for dinner.

Sunday, December 03, 2006

pretty lady

the wind howls as i trudge across the barren land like a defeated soldier returning home.a rusty leaf flies over my head and drops neatly a little in front of me.my laptop in my victoria's secret bag scrapes harshly against my thigh and i feel like i'm lifting the weight of the world.i dump everything on the sofa,put my red jacket on my already mis-matched outfit and walk out.its too beautiful a grey day to sit inside.no gloves,no socks,no protection whatsoever.its just me,and the grey wind,face to face,hand in hand.

i ran down the field against the wind and it made me fly faster and faster and faster.i felt like you were running after me.running with me.to the back of it all,to the woods where the dirty creek hides.we'll sit on the torn down tree,the water coming from under our feet and we'll take in the grey skies.the angry roar of the naked swaying trees.

becoming accustomed to the sound of the ticking clock and the sight of looking at the world through blinds wasn't hard to adjust to.it wasnt hard to settle comfortably into beady jewellery,silky tops and volumising mascara.i guess its been easier on me more than i thought it would.i was prepared for the worst possible stuff.being alone,stuck in traffic,driving in the dark,being singled out,everything.and even though more or less a lot of the above has happened to me,it hasnt been torturous.i have a feeling its going to get worse though,which is why i carry my patience in my bag.my dad calls it a gypsy bag,and i dont mind.i dont mind at all.

quiz galaxy

Zahra --
[noun]:
A master of storytelling
[=) ]
Zahra Haider --
[adjective]:
Smelling like turnips at all times
[hahahahahah]
Usman --
[adjective]:
Pretentiously academian
Usman Khalid Kashmiri --
[adjective]:
Having the texture of congealed cheese
mohamed --
[noun]:
A lewd street performer
Zainab --
[noun]:
A poltergeist sent back in time to change the course of history forever
Zainab Chughtai --
[adjective]:
Smells like teen spirit
Farooq --
[noun]:
A level headed person who always makes the wrong decision
Farooq Haider --
[adjective]:
Full of bees
Saleha Riaz --
[noun]:
A person of questionable sanity who starts their own cult
Complan --
[adjective]:
Like in nature to a kangaroo
Saif --
[adjective]:
Like in nature to a banana peel
Saphiya --
[noun]:
A person who is constantly high
Arooj --
[noun]:
A person who falls into an outhouse and dies
Natasha --
[noun]:
A person who falls into an outhouse and dies
Bia --
[adjective]:
Extremely extreme!
Mehar --
[adjective]:
Similar to butter in texture and appearance
Shibli --
[adjective]:
Fuzzy to the touch
ShahBano --
[adjective]:
Benevolent to a fault

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

so its weird when people stare at you like they know something.its even weirder when they look at you thinking you shouldn't be looking at them the way you are looking at them,cuz what they are isn't their fault;its their parents' or ex-girlfriends',or the high school jock who gave them too much beer.like that indian at the store who was with a curly-haired,high maintenance blonde,looking at me all uncomfortable as if he thought he was doing something wrong and he thought that i thought the same.but i instead tried to tell him that really,it was ok and that i didnt mind,and that he should relax and not be ashamed to make eye contact with me.

oh well.
mesmerized by the bubbly liquor,she watched as the seductress in red stole the night away.candles on her head,swaying left,right and centre.the men dancing with her,knowing they are no match for her radiant beauty.the women,dancing for something they lost long ago.the clash of cultures,societies,and first impressions,all coming together at one place.the ballroom.

sitting in a daze,she hears much but understands nothing.most of it goes off the top of her head and into the dark somewhere.so among so many of them she sits silent.they think she is too woozy to care,but she in fact is not entirely sure if this is the life she had yearned for for so long.she thinks what she has been scared to think :its not enough.she wonder when it ever will be.

the drive to the mills is an adventurous,triumphant one.she has accomplished something only because of sheer will and faith in doing what is right.the ride back,however,is less thrilling.Its not enough.

nothing is too hard to do anymore,yet everything is so much harder than it seems.a simple phone call that has been put off for many a weeks.the urge to need people.writing.the easiest things have become the hardest to do.the constant praise is alien to her ears,she does not belong to it.

Monday, November 20, 2006

The first fall

This is a blog about the time I was part of a family.A very complex,a very...ordinary time.A time where only balderdash matters.Where laptops are too small and silly anecdotes bring the past back to life.Lounging personalities mesh into one big ballad of nothing.Cigarettes are crushed on mahogany tables and drives through dark and haunting battlefields make living seem like a joke.A very..frightening joke.

Somewhere along the asphalt,lives are saved.Preserved.Revered.ed.Its a very odd feeling when you watch things that you've only ever dreamed of once upon a lifetime happen around you.As if this magical wave is following you and you can only feel it when the glittery dust falls on your head after its done its work.

What I have learned,and am about to share is this:Never follow inevitability.Never think that you cannot control your own fate.Do not be the plot,let the plot find you.And everything will fall into place.Just like it should,like you made it.Like only you could.

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

confidence in high speed

i am seriously contemplating a camcorder.there are so many things i want to to capture,then (probably not) edit them,and show it to someone.it'd be so cool.like a documentary with so many people involved that by the time the movie's done,you still can't remember who's who,but the message has come across successfully.i'm not sure what the message is yet,but that too will come around.

my fake fur jacket is sprawled on the ground like someone killed it,courtesy daddy dearest.i write this while watching a man with waxed armpits exercise on geo.before this a fat man talking about thin models and how we need improvement in our film industry or we shall die an inexplicable death.

finally got my driver's license.the lady was so unbelieveably nice to me.she even told me i sounded like a new yorker.i was so happy happy.

the meet at chachoo's place was probably the most uncomfortable one i've ever had in my life.dad even told me he caught me feeling uncomfortable.fat uncle sprawled on big leather sofa,covering himself with a kid's fleece blanket and working on his laptop.fat aunty perched groggily staring at godknowswhat on the telly.girlys sippin on carbonated drinks and flipping thru holiday magazines.beautiful orange candles standing tall contrasting the stubborn dust.the half empty bottle of black label standing frigidly amongst it all.

indeed,very uncomfortable i was.

trying to read to camellia,but stopping to listen to the fuss going on downstairs.until she pokes me to life again.watching myself grow sideways,my lips forming a huger pout than i've ever known.not being able to explain what i feel when i hear regina spektor or think about fav mani person.

there are so many things you can catch on a camcorder.and i intend to do just that.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

la da dum

loose hair
climbing ladders
infinite walking
into the oblivious..

the slightly toned muscle
the teeth that make no sense
the purpose that never ends.

the good,the bad
and the orange.
talk of tales long ago
and the people we used to be.

so much for the city,tall buildings
and tunnel music.
for sorrow breaks the day in the likeliest places.
like a mistletoe that you try to
avoid when you're too shy.

captivating November sun,
changing lives by hiding behind
the now leafless trees.
much thinking there is to be done tonight.
i dont know who i am yet.
and i think it would be nice to at least have some sort of idea.
the 2am chocolate has gone to the head and i'm thinking of how i think every romantic song is the romanticist one i've ever heard.i pushed my bed too close to my wall,and now it creaks every time i move on it.even though its a single bed,it has enough room for two people who could make it through it all if they were intertwined.
all the colourful things i ring up every single day make me dizzy and nauseous and i dont have time to breathe out my frustration.it'd be funny if i collapsed.i wonder if the world would stop moving.
i drove too hard into the puddle that collected itself unceremoniously on the broken road today.dad freaked and starting explaining to me how the tires float on the water and how i should never do that again.its odd to listen to things like opinions or advice or suggestions or orders.you dont quite understand what's going on and how you're going to fit that into your everyday life.you just learn on your own whim.but i guess its nice to hear people waste their breaths,not knowing its completely wasted itself.

where i live is so old,there's still a train that passes through the town,and almost 40% of the houses are ones we used to see in 'little house on the prairie' or 'anne of green gables'.i can almost imagine women walking with cotton,lacey umbrellas,with metal frames under their dresses talking about the cornbread they're storing over the winter and how the battlefield still brings out soldiers from its deep grass.

the thing about this song,about any song,is the way i am completely transformed into a place near the sea,or a field full of dandelions,tall and lanky all of a sudden,crouching and laughing all at the same time.the banjo is playing in sync to my curly hair bouncing up and down.

i think i'm going to be sick.
seeing too many people scares me.
i'm not used to big crowds and strangers i can only exchange three sentences with.its all so unnerving,and yet here i am,hoping for a miracle to present itself,even though i'm sure i dont know what it will contain.but it will bring calm.
my feet are cold as the train goes by and i cant think because its so loud even though its so far away.the sun was setting where the meadow is and the forbidden forest with the fence around it was so appealing in the orange light.the beauty of not having people around is mesmerizing in its own way.its just you,and colour,and the greatness of Nature.thats what songs do,they connect you with natural things,the wind,beautiful rocks and sceneries and light;either too much or none at all.they connect you with people when ur walking around some random store and a single rhythm brings you and the person next to you,in front of you,together.you exchange breif smiles,each instantly caught up in different memories of nature..rasberries,a kiss on the neck,a robin's nest.

the banjo plays in the background.

love.love,love,love,love,love.

Tonight with the sea and the salty breeze
The milk from your breast is on my lips
And lovlier words from your mouth to me
And salt from my sweat and fingertips

My hands they seek the end of afternoon
My hands believe and move over you la la la
La da da la la la da dum

Tonight with the sea and the rhythm there
The waves and the wind the night is black
Tonight with the scent of your long black hair
Spread out like your breath across my back

Your hands they move like waves over me
Beneath the moon tonight near the sea
La la la da da dum
La da dum

Thursday, November 02, 2006

the art

orange leaves were playing in the field with the wind today.running around in circles after each other,friends,enemies,allies,companions all.long,wonderful walk i had..all along the green meadow behind my house,then the forest across the busy road.i have figured that i'm a nature person if there ever was one.i could live in a forest or in a cave if i absolutely had to.but i guess that's not really about nature,its about how you adapt to your surrounding..and i guess i'm pretty good at that.i find something good in every place,even the dirtiest most un-liveable places.i always find a way out.

but anyway,today was just beautiful.i felt like a guess fall model,hair blowing in the obvious wind,smiling in the sun,scarf going astray.it was positively wonderful.all out of a piece from let's say..an iron and wine song.

had an absolutely wonderful dream about God and candles and good karma.i feel i'm more blessed than i deserve to be.of course i do nothing,but i get this idea that God likes me despite my stupid every day faults.dad says its all about having good intentions and that thats what really counts.dad says he believes in humanity more than any religion in the world.he wants me to save all the stamps i buy.but how the hell disney stamps?i'd rather post em on my wall if anything else.

(i'm so HAppy,btw=) *beams*)

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

i think there's something wrong with the twinkling satellite in the sky.keeps connecting me to an operator in china when i really want to call england.i guess everyone makes mistakes some time or the other.

my cough is repeated by dad,who is in the other room.we both cough for different reasons,water in my oesaphagus and his chest pains,but somehow it brings us closer together.if i go back about 10-12 years,the structure of the house is almost the same.same direction of bedrooms,same hallway,same creak of the wood when you walk up and down looking for something absent-mindedly.except tht house had so many closets.and little ones even.for example the one just at the top of the stairs where mom kept fooki's secret diapers cuz he sometimes got scared at night even though he was 7...where ahmed and i used a stool as a single desk and a shoe box to collect all the customers' transactions when we used to play 'bank bank'.the closet where mom kept her yellow sweater in that i thought she looked so wonderful in when and if she wore it,cuz really,she always preferred pakistani clothes.the big closet in the basement where there were extra sheets and the photo albums tucked under the hanging extra clothes.wow,what a place to spend a day.it was like visiting a galaxy far,far away.

i was just telling dad the other day how big tabscott drive was when we were kids.how utterly endless were the possibilities for imagining fairies and butterflies and sunlight and sleet.even tho it is expanded now to twice its size,its so,so small.i guess when ur little,you look at everything in awe cuz its so big.then it just loses its charm.the rasberry vines,the tree that's been cut down,the unmowed lawn.

and it all comes back to haunt you when you are alone,or thinking or busy doing something important.memories make me shiver.i stand in my cubicle and freeze for a millisecond as my heart pounds in my ears,the sounds of the store go numb and the customer is smiling at me uncertainly.

i made a lot of little important packages today.sat in my room,spread em all out,fed the little one tootsie rolls and cut away at colourful paper.the little one kept quiet,fed up of candy (?!) and squirmed in her position.'oh no zalaaa..those gloves are broken..!you can't wear those!'i smile and continue listening to ravi shankar or sigur ros or whoever's playing in the background.she reminds me of myself in too many ways i can count.she's demure,and cautious..but talkative and pre-occupied too.she went red in the face from playing too much.i thought it was healthy,so i let her jump on the bed as much as she wanted to=).

i dont have anything else constructive to say (not saying that this was constructive at any point)but i do have to get up in a few hours and i would go to sleep had i not had a book to read,cards to fill,lotion to apply,and people to talk to.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

wooden walls make little difference to the sounds created behind them.the sounds are no longer a secret.i sleep in the shirt i cry in,so i feel the pain when i sleep.the pain that never leaves me.puffy eyes and 2am conversations are the best way to get you nowhere than where you think you've begun.

so my point is,that everything around us sucks,but like compy sed 'we're all searching for something we dont know' and i think life just passes in looking for that one thing.
i saw sparks.

Friday, October 20, 2006

we love and lie.
we hope and pray.
we dissolve our dreams into piano concertos and mix our thoughts with polite smiles.
there are some sort of windows surrounding you,all showing a way out.but a way out of where?who do we run from?ourselves?things we think?a list of things that go wrong?do we jump?just open the window a tad bit to let the freedom in?
paper birds,complacent cows in the field.aching bones and wonderment.

its like..we're waiting.for a miracle that's never going to happen.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

all my designs,simplify.

This tub of salt looks white,I think as I glance over to him.I quietly watch his every move.The fork going in the mouth,the large,inquisitive eyes,the eyebrows drawn together.If I could just...sketch.This second would be just perfect.In my opinion,he's scared of himself.Ok,let's see....inexplicable use of manners?check.Good attire?check.Big goo-goo eyes?check.I wonder what he's thinking.I supposed there's probably too much thinking going on in that head as it is.Sometimes I wish I could...pry it open with like..a stick..or a fork.
He carries himself awkwardly.Like he doesn't know where to put himself for fear of not knowing whether he'd fit in or not.I want to grab his shadow and rip it out of him.The shadow that haunts him and doesn't let him be who he should.
I continue staring rudely until he feels there's something on his nose.With careful precision,he wipes off the grime.Or maybe he's just scratching his nose,I don't know.He smile a some-what distracted smile at me,cautious about the attention he doesn't want to attract from people sitting nearby.Might as well.What bothers me the most is the drawn curtains in his eyes when he looks at me.I see pupils,I see him..but there is no sign of absolute...surrender.When you surrender to someone,its because you trust them,love them,fear them,revere them.Like religious people surrender to God and leave their fate up to Him.Give Him their all,not caring what happens to them as long as they have Him by their side.
Damn it,he's finished his lasagne.Now I can't stare anymore.
Haha,I was so surprised when I talked to you,Mr.Longbottom.You act so different around people who you want.It almost pissed me off to a level that I wanted to hang up on you.Thank God line got cut and saved me the rudeness of it all.
But seriously.Everything we talked about didn't make sense.And you know what?The worst thing is that I couldn't make a memory out of it.Well,I did...lets just say its not one of the best ones I have of you.It goes something like 'Well,THAT was certainly the weirdest conversation I've ever had.You think you know a person.'Whatever.Jo bhi.Poppycock it all.
German,Keith,Chinese-American baby,Altoids,annie's a bastard,and I'm supposed to hold on.I think I will.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

so its 1am and the only person worth talking to online has gone to throw up.i'm positive its cuz she was listening to fiona apple.to get rid of my boredom,i cleaned the kitchen,re-washed the dishes and am now 'watching' midnight money on tbs.all the lights are on and i feel i'm highly irresponsible,cuz kal roza bhi rakhna hai and i'm not asleep yet.of course when you're alone you tend to think about a lot of things you feel sad about when you think about them,and that's kind of what happens with me 24/7 so i'm sad 24/7.wow,and my stomach just retaliated to my said statement.oh well.

i almost forgot how much hospitals scare the fuck out of me.they have this certain smell attached to them that reeks of sympathy at the patheticness of the human condition.i sat all uptight and looking like i didnt belong (which i didnt).

so porcupine tree was awesome.didnt like a lot of their new music..a bit too loud for my taste.what else?it was set up in this bar-like place,and even though they said no alcohol,everyone was having some form of the beer or the other.i had red bull.much of the crowd was surprisingly old,sporting very worn out t-shirts of PT,beer bottles in hand,hippie children in tow.this one uncle..started swaying in a very suggestive way tht he definitely wanted to dance.that was scary.the visuals were amazing,wilson is crazy and the 30/40 yr old who started talking to me randomly was SO cool.i mean,i wish he was my dad,thts how cool he was.sure,ali bhai got ticked off 'kis se baat kar rahi ho' but its not like he invited me out for coffee,right?i mean,i'm sure he wud have had i been alone,but fat chance of tht happening.

i've come to like more and more instrumental/soft/soothing/puts you at ease music.i think i'm...insane.

there's a block party in our..well,block soon.october 21st ko.2 days before eid.2 days before nani died.4 days before peech's 18th.there comes a point in time,well,at least thts the point where i am now,that i just step back and look at myself doing things,talking,looking,laughing,cleaning,being..and i'm so unaffected by it all.

except yesterday.yesterday was the best day i'd ever had since julia.the weather was absolutely GORjus,and who would want to stay inside?there was a spanish band type playing,the fountain was breath-taking,the single duck hiding somewhere,abstract art surrounding you.gravel pressing hard against your shoe sole.people playing frisbee.rainwater not entirely sucked into the ground yet.and i got souveneirs too.i was so happy.awe wala happy,i cant believe i'm back here after so long.

then the whole going back to abbu jaan's place scenario.they cut down the tree,tore apart the sun room,didnt cut the grass.it was all very..strange.i felt so sick being there.getting ready in the forbidden room,tiptoe-ing across the drawing room with my shoes on,walking in the garden looking at the empty space where the rasberries and mint leaves used to grow.i have yet to sit on the chatt.i'll do it soon,though,there's no reason not to.

when ali bhai and kelly disappeared during the concert 'we'll be back',that's when it hit me that maybe hina baji was right.sometimes people think they want the same things,but its just a farce.we all have different dreams and even if our dreams are the same,we want different things out of it.which makes it hard to stick together.specially for a lawyer and a vagabond.

One of the wonders of the world is going down
It's going down I know
It's one of the blunders of the world that no-one cares
No-one cares enough

Saturday, October 07, 2006

i curl up in my bed
and brood and brood
and...brood.

Thursday, October 05, 2006

sleep to dream her

i lack inspiration.its a simple thing everyone needs once a day or once in a lifetime even,and i lack that.little rays of unbearable light seep through a lot of small things that i am collecting...absorbing like a sponge..like that day my phupho got me a 'guess' designer bag as a birthday present,and the spanish counter lady goes 'you have a really nice mom',and i'm all like..hmm..should i answer that or let it be?or when i walk up and down that really crooked hilly thing me and fooks call 'The Hill' where i'd love to take mani someday..or when i'm fiddling with my hair and listening to the train pass by very noisily.there are so many things here that could tickle the fancy of say..alice cooper..or c.m.bower or even nicole richie.but nothing's happened..no..spark.like maha said one fine forgotten day 'don't lose the focus,once you've lost it,you're gone'.and i think i'm losing it.i honestly think i am.

back to this marvellous song i was about to promote before i drifted.
I know I'll miss her later
Wish I could bend my love to hate her
Wish I could be her creator
To twist her arms now

She stares up at the stars when
The stars fell from her hair then
I bent down to collect them
And then she was gone

Oh, I sleep just to dream her
I beg the night just to see her
That my only love should be her
Just to lie in her arms

Oh, I came there to find out
Find out she made up her mind, oh
My arms are all tied up
To me she was blind

Mmm, this space between us
Where wingless dreams fall earless
Will you not bear me witness
With your back to me now

It seems so unnerving
Yet still somehow deserving
That she could hold my heart so tightly
And still not see me here

Oh, I sleep just to dream her
Beg the night just to see her
That my only love should be her
Just to lie in her arms

I know I’ll miss her later
I wish I could bend my love to hate her
Wish I could be her creator
To be the light in her eyes
DMB-

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

i am so pissing mad right now.

*sigh*

Saturday, September 23, 2006

=D

her skyborne gypsy. says:
woh hafiz e quran
her skyborne gypsy. says:
aur tum hybrid gori
Zh~*:i love you 5 says:
HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAAHAHAHAHAHAA
her skyborne gypsy. says:
bohat ala
Zh~*:i love you 5 says:
*bhangra*

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

hmm.

so apparently i'm turning/have turned 20.
its probably the worst birthday i've ever had.i mean,i have all the things i cud want (ok,maybe not enough clothes or shoes.you can never have enough shoes.or books.),yet its still so..everything's so...empty?blank.i mean,this woman at macy's wished me happy birthday after phupho bought me my present,but i looked at her all confused.the polite kind of confused,where you want to say something right but then in between trying to figure out the right words and actually coming to terms with what has been said,the moment is lost,and you just smile that awkward 'hmmm' smile.

I took the leisure of putting my phone on silent and taking a shower as the clock struck 12.i wanted a new towel,but the only ones available were all a sickly green.i wore my mani shirt and mozez socks and lgs shalwar.smoothed my twenty year old skin.stood under the very hot water to wash away twenty years of nothing..I also slept like i hadn't slept in years.


God's present to me is a beautiful day.beautiful,beautiful,beautiful day.sunny and windy at the same time.

even thought the day is the most beautiful since i dont know when,its probably the gloomiest birthday i've ever had.i'm not used to being left alone.i think i'll go straighten my hair.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

heh.imagine comparing life to a toilet roll.

*

i am only sane because we have each other.you may never know it,but i just wanted to tell you that i feel it when i am missing you to death.

Friday, September 15, 2006

part 2 commences

So here I am after my shower,and still wondering what to do.(the chocolate milk expedition didn’t go too well,so I am now devouring oatmeal crème pie.they’re soft cookies,not whole pies,you idiot)I have a faint feeling that the crème is made of marshmallows,haram walay,but I’m too scared to look.they’re so gooooood.


I fina-fucking-lly got my music cuz I got my laptop cuz mani’s SO cool.but I still cant figure out how to play it without attaching the hard drive,and some of the music is still missing,so tsk tsk mani.luckily,thanks to being the dork I am,I wrote down all the songs.every single one of them.cool na?=D.not.


What else?the …no,no..not something meaningful.did I mention that my room’s a mess?at least a dozen times?and that my internet’s not working?fuck.this..sucks.dream machine by the fever is awesome too.why is the ghar ki chabi in my room?seriously,ppl in this house are insane.all I ask is for a little order,but no,it is absolutely necessary for everyone to go their own ways.


I have a vivid image of a drunk guy sitting in the room next to me dragging his chair/table once in a while.he’s also probably watching t.v.he is also probably fat.there is something scratching somewhere.you’ve no idea what you’re liiiike.i’m sleepy.and I am not all amazed by Victoria’s secret ki bras.they’re…like all the other ones.and the model for victoria’s secret looks like a guy.i think my brother might be gay.seriously,her jaw looks big enough to sink the titanic.


Frou frou….aaaaah…more therapeutic music please,my nerves are rot.PICK.UP.YOUR.PHONE.i don’t care what time it is in Pakistan,this is fucking annoying.STOP tapping urself you stupid paper clip with a light bulb on its head.WHY are you bothering me I ask you WHY.i am frustrated at the moment,CANT YOU SEE?where’s that damn tiara.

monster cars and swedish boys

Wonder woman indeed did wonders today.i am proud of myself for once.
For heeding what people advise to me,for being the strength for most of the people I care about..for being a shoulder to those who need me desperately and realize it only after they feel what I am to them.Like R said today..’first I used to cry cuz everyone complained about me living too far away.they said it was too hard for them to come meet me.now that you’re here,I realize I don’t need anyone.*giggle*.


I wear a plastic tiara with plastic gems in it and work around and about.things I never thought I could do but knew I’d be doing them some day.The tiara helps a lot.whenever I act distressed or agitated,I remember that I am a princess,and that princesses do not react in such a manner to difficult situations.


I’m listening to Julia by ludovico einaudi.don’t remember hearing something this beautiful on piano before.highly recommended to anyone and everyone,and a super special thanks to the person who introduced it to me in his own special way=).ooh ooh,also,film by aphex twin.sask.i’m very much into soul and instrumental now,imaad says the only reason he loves me is cuz I’m the only girl who likes ulver=D.


So anyway.i’ve just about had enough of furniture shops and target and Costco and…starbucks.my first experience didn’t turn out as well as I hoped it shouldve.the bastards.put too much coffee in my frappi.that’s it,I’m buying bottled cold coffee from now on.


My room doesn’t seem so dreary anymore.except for HUGE AMOUNTS OF CARDBOARD AND PLASTIC lying around,its rather colorful.and the small decorative paintings I bought of the Chinese (hot) girls has put my poor father into doubt about my sexuality (IKEA BABY YEAHHHH=D).i accidentally told him about my smoking experience,and is it me or have my parents suddenly grown up?he took it in such a cool way.’acha tou iss ka matlab hai tum ne try kiya hua hai’…’uh….hehe?’’zaleel’.i agree they’re very cool parents,but they can be such a pain in the patella sometimes.


Anyhoo,chori ka internet is being a righteous fuck.i feel like having chocolate milk,but its too much of an effort to go downstairs and fix myself something to eat,but then I’m thinking since I’m going to take a shower anyway,I should go ahead and feed myself you know?let’s see.right now the music is unstoppable.I CANT WAIT FOR MY FURNITUREEEEEEEE MY ROOM IS SUCH A MESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.
OCD is a horrible thing to have.*sigh*.


OMG LAST NIGHT.i had the weirdest fucking dream of the CENTURY which is why I couldn’t sleep.I dreamt that it was maha’s wedding with jay and my mom’s wedding with God knows who at the same night,and I was torn between both.I knew maha’s would’ve been more fun,she just is that way,but obviously I couldn’t miss my mom’s wedding,she’d kill me.But then I find out that no one’s coming to maha’s wedding except her own friends,but I decide to sneak out anyway and go.i’m told she’s getting ready,so I go in and there she is,drunk with this transsexual that I saw on the tyra banks show,wearing a shimmery bikini top and a…skirt.she insists that I join,and I voice my thoughts about preferring to watch instead,when the transsexual grabs me and puts me in a mermaid costume.it is only then I realize the glittery make up that she’s (he’s?) dolloping onto my face and I think wtf but I play along cuz I feel sorry for (lets just call it an it),it.that and also the fact tht I don’t generally say no to people unless they’re my parents.so anyway,there I am with a drunk maha and a transsexual in a bikini (did I mention it was wearing a bikini?),talking and laughing nonsense.I’m getting really really late,so I excuse myself and then maha’s like,’oh the baraat’s probably here,I’ll come with you too,you can’t leave without meeting jay and the transsexual pipes in ‘yeah,bitch!’,so I go ok,although I have no plans of bumping into any cute guy from the larke walon ki side with a mermaid costume on.so I run past the stage (yes I choose to run past the STAGE,center of attention as ALWAYS) and say hi to jay from behind my hand.i stick around long enough to see maha sitting on the stage with her dulha in a glittery top with a jali ka duppatta and a skirt on.she’s very very very happy,so I leave.as for the trans..it just scowls at me and turns the other way and even though the bikini is gone I can still see its penis in the back.its rather disturbing.I soon stumble out of an ice cream truck just to find my mother looking rather paindoo in a shalwar kameez embroided with golden gota.’WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN I’VE BEEN LOOKING ALL OVER FOR YOU,YOU ARE SO GROUNDED YOUNG LADY’.

end of dream.


I can hear my dad snoring in the other room.oh well.

Thursday, September 14, 2006

putter putter

barri boriat hoti hai yahan par.especially when ur not in school,unemployed and are in the proces of learning how to drive.mera kamra bhi ulta pulta para hua hai and its just sad.

the walk today was good though.so was the khatta orange juice on the deck.the grass is always green here.almost always.when it threatens to turn brown,God pours down rain..sometimes over a span of 2-3 days.and thats NORmal,apparently.it just finished raining again,and the pimple that has emerged and popped on its own is hurting like a bitch.saw fooks in his boxers today,i wasnt too pleased.the ass has gotten fat,and he's just...great,its raining again.

i'm indecisive about whether i shud open the box or not.very tempted i am,but its 12:30 am,(longest i've stayed up,God bless the internet) and mother had threatened to wake me up at seven (which actually means 6,or close to it).

i havent told my parents,but the maroon leather sofas are clashing horribly with the tiles.*sigh*.its something about being a grown-up that you just have to have your way,always.

the babies have probably arrived by now,their ages being 4 and 2 respectively.i plan to meet up with a dozen old people soon.SOON.so i dont lose my mind.in any case hot dogs and oatmeal cookies will keep me sane.

i can hear voices,i'm thinking its my parents,but whenever i open the door,i hear them snoring.
this house is better than phupho's.its got lights on the streets,and i can tell that so and so might be awake.
*sigh*.so i've been snooping in peoples' scrapbooks (ONLY THING TO DO WHEN UR NOT DOING ANYTHING),and i'm all confused now.this confusion must be put to a test.i'm going to sleep.

Monday, September 11, 2006

-

aaj 11th september ki 5th birthday hai.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Joey

Joey Joey took a stone
And knocked
Down
The
Sun!
And whoosh!it swizzled
Down so hard,
And bloomp!it bounced
In his backyard,
And glunk!it landed
On his toe!
And the world was dark,
And the corn wouldn't grow,
And the wind wouldn't blow,
And the cock wouldn't crow,
And it always was Night,
Night,
Night.


All because
Of a stone
And Joe.




Shel Silverstein

hug o' war

I will not play at tug o' war.
I'd rather play at hug o' war,
Where everyone hugs
Instead of tugs,
Where everyone giggles
And rolls on the rug,
Where everyone kisses,
And everyone grins,
And everyone cuddles,
And everyone wins.


Shel Silverstein

this land is my land

Chuggi was right.I opened my suitcase and felt completely drained.If I brought home with me,my family,my pictures,my everything,what is it that's making me so sad?I just sat on phupho's garage floor and thought and thought and cried.The background music of Fanaa was playing over and over again and over again,until an invisible finger pushes the pause button only for me to put it on again.And all I can think about is what I'm going to do if I ever lose you.I don't even know who you are..


You're like the people who's pose is so natural,it puts you at ease.You're like a lost a picture that drops out of an old notebook.The feeling I get when I watch an airplane in the distance,smoke tagging behing it,and I think I've never seen a more wonderful sight.When I run alone in an aisle,all I can think is the cash register.The goal.The quiet stillness of the night that makes me feel that the only movement going on is of that in my world.When I throw cherries at the wind and I see my strength defying gravity even if its for a moment.The assurance of something you've put in a drawer a long time ago but you know its always going to be there.There's a difference between looking at the stars and being the stars.You're the difference.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

the giving tree

Once there was a tree...


and
she loved
a
little boy.


And every day
the boy
would come


and
he
would
gather
her
leaves


and make them
into crowns
and play king of the forest.


He could climb up her trunk


and swing from her branches


and eat apples.


And they
would play
hide-and-go-seek.


And when
he was tired,
he would sleep
in her shade.


And the boy loved the tree...
very much.


And the tree was happy.


But time went by.


And the boy grew older.


And the tree was often alone.


Then one day the boy came to the tree
and the tree said,"Come ,Boy,come and climb
and eat apples and play in my shade
and be happy."
"I am too big to climb and play," said the boy.
"I want to buy things and have fun.
I want some money.
Can you give me some money?"
"I'm sorry," said the tree, "but I have no money.
I have only leaves and apples.
Take my apples,Boy,and sell them
in the city.Then you will have money
and you will be happy."


And so the boy climbed up the
tree and gathered
her apples
and carried them away.



And the tree was happy.


But the boy stayed away
for a long time...
and the tree was sad.
And then one day
the biy came back
and the tree shook with joy
and she said, "come,Boy,
climb up my trunk
and swing from my braches
and be happy."


"I am too busy to climb trees,"
said the boy.
"I want a wife and I want children,
and so I need a house.
Can you give me a house?"
"I have no house,"said the tree.
"The forest is my house,
but you may cut off my branches
and build a house.
Then you will be happy."


And so the boy cut off
her branches
and carried them away
to build a his house.




And the tree was happy.


But the boy stayed away
for a long time.
And when he came back,
the tree was so happy
she could hardly speak.
"Come,Boy," she whispered,
"come and play."
"I am too old and sad to play,"
said the boy.
"I want a boat that will
take me far away
from here.
Can you give me a boat?"

"Cut down my trunk
and make a boat,"
said the tree.
"then you can sail away...
and be happy".

And so the boy cut down her trunk

and made a boat and sailed away.



And the tree was happy...

but not really.



And after a long time
the boy came back again.
"I am sorry,Boy,"
said the tree,"but I have nothing
left to give you-
My appkes are gone."
"My teeth are too weak
for apples,"said the boy.
"My branches are gone,"
said the tree."You
cannot swing on them-'
"I am too old to swing
on branches,"said the boy.
"My trunk is gone,"said the tree.
"You cannot climb-"
"I am too tired to climb,"said the boy.
"I am sorry,"sighed the tree.
"I wish that I could
give you something...
but I have nothing left.I am just
an old stump.I am sorry..."


"I don't need very much now,"
said the boy,
"just a quiet place to sit and rest.
I am very tired."
"Well," said the tree,
straightening herself up
as much as she could,
"well,and old stump is good
for sitting and resting.
Come,Boy,sit down.
Sit and rest."



And the boy did.





And the tree was happy.


Shel Silverstein

Sunday, August 20, 2006

the circus has come to town

Pan sits on the floor with outstretched legs; his back to the bathroom door. Staring drunkenly at Dee as she strategically, almost perfectly, places herself onto his lap. She takes the shadow off his face that cast over him while they were talking about someone he didn’t really want to discuss. Her finger drags in the opposite direction of the stubble growing on his chin, leaving fingerprints on his nose, his cheek, and his half-closed eyes before dragging it back to his lips where she gives him a tongue-less, over-whelming kiss. Pan sighs in humble disbelief.


There are no photos anywhere, Boo grumbles to herself as she paces the house in a reckless fervor at an ungodly hour. She has lost herself in a world that she hates, whispering empty promises to herself that she will survive. Boo puffs at the glass pipe she’s been toying with. It is almost revolting, her only escape. She makes a face no one can see because it is dark. It is always dark.


Em walks a lot. Most of the time aimlessly, or because he must do what he does for there is nothing else to do.Ah, here we are. The busiest street in all of London. Where no one looks at anyone and people are a part of the ever-growing madness.Em stops; just for a second; just to feel himself breathing. No one stops with him. They will swerve left or right to avoid collision. It is almost unbelievable to him that the grey skies here never end...



Deeb rubs his red eyes. He cannot understand why he goes in and out of these phases. And it was too late to change the habit that had now become his second nature. He tries to snap back, to listen to the on-going conversation carried out by the people he likes. Supposedly likes. Maybe it’s the allergy acting up again.Deeb inhales a ridiculously large amount of sheesha.He hears the conversation turning towards him, as always. His lack of interest. His silence. And of course, the blackness. He shakes his head and takes another swig. Calm nerves? You wish.



‘No, no, I don’t know,’Ik replies to his ever-persistent mother. There was no reason, there were never any reasons. Its just the way he was moulded, not even by himself maybe.Ik hears her going on in the background, about so many things he’s always refused to deal with. He picks up his mahogany drumsticks, plugs in invisible headphones, and beats away into the night air.



Eha sits. And sits. She twiddles her thumbs till they bore her and she wonders why we have thumbs anyway.See, that is the problem with alone time. You have too much time for yourself. Good thing she has much that needs to be sorted out. Like her father’s angio that may or may not save him. The sudden cold shoulder by her would-be fiancé, and his knack for ignoring what she would like to call dreams of a better future.Indeed, there was much to think about.


Riza can hear the people in the next room going at it with full force. He sighs to himself, covering his head with a thin pillow. He lies wide awake under it, thinking about the only thing he thinks about all the time. In bars, classrooms, in the dead of the nights. He pulls out the letter, the picture, and every single fragment he has of her in his mind.Riza lets himself drown in a morbid elusion while someone next door screams in painful ecstacy.’Oh God…,’he covers his face with his empty hands.


It’s true that Sham avoided every possible discussion that lead her into think that she’s been building herself shattered dreams all the while she was married. Life now consisted of all work, and almost no play. There was nothing to play with anymore. The kids had grown into better or worse versions of herself and were living what they’d like to call a life. Another anniversary goes by unwished. Sham continues her chant on prayer beads.


And at precisely 12:01am, they all hear it…an explosion. Almost as if pulled by invisible string, they rush to look upwards into the sky. The sudden burst of orange, red and blue leaves them in awe. A quiet repose. The sight of it is all the assurance they need…all the assurance they could ever possibly get. The circus has come to town to take away the darkness of the graveyard.

Saturday, August 19, 2006

what is love?

Twin Cinéma- says:
see. you talk to me and you cant think. there's never time to think. now, thats love=D








aaaahahahahahaahahahahahahhahahaha.silly moe=)

Saturday, August 12, 2006

hello sunshine,
come into my life.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

conflict

anum- like a rolling stone says:
your looks are laughable, unphotographical
anum- like a rolling stone says:
yet you are my favourite work of art

Sunday, August 06, 2006

everything's going to change.I knew because I looked at my side profile and noticed it was already happening.I think I'm doomed,but I've been told I'm a miracle child,and that God took it upon Himself to pave paths for me to walk on.So I dunno...I guess I can live on hope and not fizzle out completely.I don't even know what to feel really.Scared,cautious,doubtful.All those things.The side of my body still hurts after the operation.That was another sign that things have changed.I will never be able to act.No one likes scarred people.


tractor ki ek light jal rahi thi.pakistan zindabad.


The realization that I'm leaving the best part of me behind made me cling to her more.I just wouldn't let go of her dupatta in liberty today,like I used to do when I was a kid in big stores where gori aunties wore pink lipstick with blue jackets.

I want to pack her in my duffel bag,to help me go through with this inane decision of mine.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

pink bathrooms

'man.we've done night-spending scenarios a lot.and like,we hang out in general too.why don't we get high?'
'i do.you're just a fuck'
haan theek hai yaar i slept early.but i'm always listening to what you guys are talking about.like woh kaun thi who was singing 'iris' on buzz's radio?i mean,WHO?she was so horrible.and i felt your ass when you sat on me chugs,hell anyone would feel that.and mein ne jaan ke chaadar zyada le li thi buahahaha.*burp*.and ur such a fuck man.telling me i'm a deranged somalian sitting on the kitchen floor when you KNEW i had the better cornetto,and you joined me later anyhoo.linda blair darr gayi thi tumse raat ko HAHAHAHA.
so i really liked the fettucini alfredo in royal palm.and we WILL go back raat ko sometime,with someone else's membership card,steal the golf cart and make out kisi random darakht ke neechay.wahan ke darakht kafi baray hotay hain.
chuggi's ass's name is big bird everyone.it talks back.and YES YOU ARE A PSEUDO-LESBIAN YOU,AND DEATH BE TO NICOLE MERI SAUTAN.
those cornflakes were so good.i could feel them in my throat even after i came home and talked to mom and cried and cried and my lush smelling,newly-washed hair stuck to the wooden table.i smelled the table later on too,just to check.aur jo mein ne chuggi ke ghar se milo churaye thay,meray kuttay bhai ne meri absence mein khatam kar diyay.
its not pleasant talking about sex with...weird people.well,not weird weird,but uncomfortable weird.i consider myself rather ignorant when it comes to sex and the pleasure of it,and i assume that the man i shall 'do it' with will know exactly what to do and i will just sit in a corner later on when he's sleeping and giggle.buss.i dont want to know about foreplay,or the stages/bases,or the..whatever else there is.G SPOTS WHICH ARE NOT BEHIND THE EAR CHUGGI.hadd hoti hai yaar.
i will practice raag someday.try and sing like farida khanum or that fabric wali bandi.

fooki sits on my lap to use the computer cuz i wont get off.i hug him from behind just because and i put my ear on his back to listen to his big heart in his little body.he is working out now and swimming and footballing.he is a big boy now,an unshaven,ugly-looking big boy,who wears his heart on his sleeve for the world to see.i put on 'ek ajnabi (STRANGA,DANGAAA) while he is on his phone to piss him off.it works=).what does 'choot ka toka' mean anyway?he speaks to me sometimes in a language i dont understand,and yet i do and its weird but i guess thats how it works with me and him.he's my invisible best friend and i think i will name him conch.aahahahahahha.just stuff fooki.just stuff.



acha i dont know how fooki relates to pink bathrooms,but its all relative=)



(CHUGGI PAITOOOOOOOOOO=D)

japanese twins

and so we frolick down again,to the valley of the known and hidden things,where stuff that has been locked away,buried and drowned are again restored,so the scars still taste fresh against the earth's dampness.the tears become familiar again,and chocolate tastes like tasteless mud.

and at times I don't feel like the string of fibre holding things together,quite the rock that shatters the glass of your neighbour's window.

Monday, July 31, 2006

Bruised lover*

'Something inside me exploded the day God cried outside your window.I stared at your half-open eyes and saw my hunger staring back at me.And we fit.Almost perfectly.It was the most magical experience I've ever had,and I hate to believe it was a dream,cuz I know it wasn't'



My eyes hurt from thinking so much.Its like I can't stop.And I finally came up with a theory.
Love=Whining.
You whine about everything,the distance,the closeness,the hair,the jokes,the lies...and of course,the truth.'I love you.I can't live without you.Do something about the circumstances that have thrown us into our current positions,otherwise I'll die/kill myself'.Its true that man is never satisfied.And now,love is a part of that feeling.It can't pacify need anymore.Love ko kuch ho gaya hai.It needs more sugar,perfect fingernails and no cats.Its needs to let people breathe as if their significant other is as close to them as the wave is to the sea.It needs to let lovers sleep like babies do when they suck their thumbs.It needs to quell the passion inside their chests thats ripping at the seams.For the contours to be that of one person with two souls and not two people with one soul.Only then will love fill the empty void,the huge hole in all our hearts.Only then will it do justice to night and day,to whining and breathing.Only then...



I guess I missed the feeling for a long time.Now it just seems too much to contain.

Sunday, July 30, 2006

bruised lover*

Thursday, July 27, 2006

of shattered love and eternity

*counts the fingernails on her hand*
'precious,precious,precious,precious,precious'

*touches her nose with his fingertip*
'precious'

'every inch of you,love,is precious'

*insert heart here*

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

the masked hero is here.nothing can go wrong.





nothing.

Monday, July 24, 2006

Peech

-DUDE.She's so hot man.You know,I wouldn't mind having cartoon sex with her.
*Cept you'd make a really ugly cartoon.
-Hm.I hate you.

Friday, July 21, 2006

not unordinary

Well.You've managed to turn out to be the exact diety I imagined you to be.Demanding and unforgiving.I hope you know that I know what you want/think from/about me and that I'm so fucking predicatable.I would be,if I talked.Do you realize how much I talk to you and behind you?Its like two different dimensions altogether.I never asked for you to be my friend,to give something to me,to be there inconsistently as you have all these years at the back of a crowded classroom that warm October day.When things happen,you don't run away.Why don't you ever be glad,it melts into wonder?I wish you would stop looking for what you're looking for:anarchy,coffee grinds,and peace in Lebanon.For someone who responds prefectly.Cuz we all speak x and y.Not zog.Never zog.
Why does it always have to be about someone being something?Masked heroes?Failed politicians and empty houses?You're so ashamed of everything.Of everyone being who they are:ordinary.Which is why I wore that neckalce you gave me in secret sometimes;to be someone you would be proud of,someone you would stand up for,as I do.I'm not sorry I failed you.Like you said,you're nothing special.Heh,you don't even know anything a 'friend' should kno.No secrets,no lies,no nuances.Nothing.Just something you may have created from a figment of your never-ending imagination.Probably Cinderella.


'go back to being special'-that was very cruel.I forgive you for your indecision.You are only a man.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

explosions in the sky.

we were born from the same soil and our souls were merged into the yin and the yang.

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

some 'extra' ordinary

her tresses sprawl across his chest messily as she stretches her legs, intentionally touching his feet with hers and wiggling her toes just to get some attention. he smiles without moving his eyes from the screen and she sighs because sometimes, she’d just throw that ps2 away. the book clutched between her fingers is about to end and eccentrically, her mind is anywhere but on the story. her eyes meander across the room, noticing the tiny details that were missed – the stain of her tea cup still half filled with coffee (she drank coffee in tea cups, not mugs. just because tea cups have royalty written all over them), his laptop lying carelessly on the chair, the half withered daisies in the glass vase that threatened to topple off any given moment and even the chocolate chip lying alone in the plate that carried cookies just a while back. she looks at him, still engrossed in the video game – this shiny little boy trapped in a man’s body, refusing to grow up – just like peter pan. or may be peter pan was his story. she smiles unconsciously as the corner of his mouth twitches (probably at a wrong move in the game). 'exquisite' – she thinks to herself. she has never known anyone more beautiful.


he catches her then, staring at him and raises an eye brow. she giggles and blushes – moving in closer as if that were possible and continuing to read where she left her book mark. he peeps at the bookmark, it’s almost torn. making a mental note to buy her a new one – probably one with a quote (just so she *squeals* with delight) – he lets his gaze stroll on her face. her eyes gleam behind the smudged kajal outlining and there’s an imminent prodding area, a potential zit perhaps that seems to somehow fit in. her hair smells of coconut, the new conditioner that she bought and she wears an ‘aquamarine’ star sapphire in each of her ear, neck and the ‘ring’ finger. not because it brings out the color of her eyes, not even because it matches her jora – but only because he calls her sapphire and blue is their color. her mouth is pressed together firmly, and if he didn’t know it so well, he wouldn’t be able to tell it was a slight pout (probably caused by a ‘boohoo’ paragraph). 'exquisite' – he thinks to himself. he has never known anyone more beautiful.


‘if i sing, will you dance?’
‘only if you don’t look at me that way.’


(i stoles this from saph,yes i did,yes i did,yes i did=D)(so Bewtifull)

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Fossiled soil and sand.

'Um,excuse me...'
'Yes?'
'I'm sorry to have bothered you*sits himself down*,but I cannot seem to place where we've met' 'We've...met?Sorry?'
'Oh yes,most definitely.However,I'm not sure whether it was that sandbox around 5th Street,or the pond by the pigsty'
'.......'
'Oh,please,don't burden yourself if you don't remember,its quite alright.Its just this itch that I had to get rid of,and if its not you,its someone else,because there's no mistaking that sandbox..'.
'......You always stole my shovels.....'
'...I supposed I never apologized for that.....'
'..No..not really..'
'Well,then,I'm truly very sorry.They were just such shiny shovels,you see'
'...Apology accepted.You should never hold a grudge for 20 years over a stick of plastic.Besides,lucky for me,you moved away soon enough'*smile*.
*smile*'But of course.Ask me how I remember it'.
'Remember what?'
'Your name.And the sandbox'
'Alright.Surprise me'
'Stupid Sandra with sandy hair' *smile*
*smirk*'I think I still hate you'
'You know,you shouldn't hold a grudge for 20 years over meaningless words and hair that only a few lucky ones have'.
'You are unbelieveably unoriginal'.
'It runs in my blood.Now.Care for some coffee?Its quite nasty outside'
*mimics*'Oh but of course let's have some coffee,dearie.Nasty,nasty,nasty'
'...I presume you don't know where I moved to'
'Let me guess.Scandinavia?Isle of Man?Amsterdam.I've always wanted to go to Amsterdam'
*smile**shakes head*.'England,you annoying turd.Stop acting like we're still in that sandbox'
'Oh,I'm sorry.I thought you used your pick-up line 15 minutes ago'
'Heh.That's....yeah that's good.I'm officially speechless now'
*satisfied*'Now.Care for some coffee?Um...waiter?scuse me,over here please'
*adoring smile*

Monday, July 17, 2006

french baguettes

So I am the official loner now,who cannot spell 'moniter' to save her life,and pronounces Sufjan Stevens,croissants and Sigur Ros in an American accent.

'Where are the matches?'
'Obviously,right there'
'Oh riiiight..of course obviously,cuz they're just always in the cow,right?'
*giggle*


Our questions are the ceilings we build above our heads.When you refuse to grow,a ceiling is erected.How many ceilings in one day?And in one hour?


Sing to me hope as she's
Thrown on the sand


Of course there was a thought.A failed attempt at simplifying things.A raucous,mucus.Also,two interesting sounding words : orotundity and erroneous.But like everything else,its charm fades on those who try and try again to make sense.Who sit in doorways,not sure whether they want in or out or out and about.

Take amma for example.She tries to make sense,and I have ceased to try and change the subject because she manages to steer it back to the same old,same old.So I smile/nod/yield/interject wherever necessary.Like in a play,only I'm not too keen on understanding/becoming my character who is incidentally/coincidentally/(unfortunately?) me.


'Is he really eating her face?'
'Yea man.I mean,they've been gone long enough'
*snigger from behind me*
'Shut up man,at least he's doing a much better job than you are'
*deathmage and me burst out laughing as a hand slaps the back of my head*


Centre of attention?I think not.You sir/madam (I can't really tell because of the dark)are not thinking straight.I suggest you go back to your living condescendingly under the Tuscan sun or south of the border of wherever it is that statues grow and leaves fly amock.It is too pleasant out here to be taking you seriously.

Saturday, July 15, 2006

un-

Saif - sister i'm a poet says:
but it's cold as you face into the wind, isn't it?
Zh~*: ..der kub says:
but how do you know?
Saif - sister i'm a poet says:
because.
Zh~*: ..der kub says:
of?
Saif - sister i'm a poet says:
i'm lonely.
Saif - sister i'm a poet says:
*shrugs*
Zh~*: ..der kub says:
we all are
Saif - sister i'm a poet says:
such is life.
Saif - sister i'm a poet says:
and we tend to contribute to each others lonliness.
Zh~*: ..der kub says:
to try and quell it
Zh~*: ..der kub says:
but it never quells,haina?
Saif - sister i'm a poet says:
quells?
Zh~*: ..der kub says:
lonliness
Saif - sister i'm a poet says:
you should probably ask someone how to use words before you use them you know...
Zh~*: ..der kub says:
shapat=D
Saif - sister i'm a poet says:
it's never quelled would have been better.
Zh~*: ..der kub says:
no,i like to change meanings around for my own convenience
Zh~*: ..der kub says:
like...mazal tov
Zh~*: ..der kub says:
OR OR
Zh~*: ..der kub says:
what was tht other word?
Zh~*: ..der kub says:
touche
Saif - sister i'm a poet says:
there.i've just sent you something.
Saif - sister i'm a poet says:
check mail.
Zh~*: ..der kub says:
right
Zh~*: ..der kub says:
tht thing u sent before didnt work
Saif - sister i'm a poet says:
i know.
Saif - sister i'm a poet says:
i didn't expect it to work of course,
Saif - sister i'm a poet says:
but it occurred to me
Saif - sister i'm a poet says:
right after i sent it.
Saif - sister i'm a poet says:
that all those people who wrote in it,
Saif - sister i'm a poet says:
couldn't possibly have had their wishes come true BEFORE they sent the email
Saif - sister i'm a poet says:
so they couldn't really write in it could they?
Zh~*: ..der kub says:
wishes shud be confined to birthday candles and shooting stars only
Zh~*: ..der kub says:
not forwarded emails.
Zh~*: ..der kub says:
thts just breaking tradition
Saif - sister i'm a poet says:
how often do THOSE come around?
Zh~*: ..der kub says:
once,twice a year
Saif - sister i'm a poet says:
forwards you get every day.
Zh~*: ..der kub says:
so you shudnt have so many wishes anyway
Zh~*: ..der kub says:
aur jo wish har roz poori ho jayay,tou you start caring less about stuff you cant get.kadar kam ho jati hai.
Zh~*: ..der kub says:
bhenchod gmail.
Saif - sister i'm a poet says:
oh well.

-

Friday, July 14, 2006

and i've royally fucked up my blog.hadd hoti hai yaar,somebody shoot me please.

nummy hates all my photography.maybe i do too.

chatt pe
sheesha tha.
*blush*.
Amber Fort,Jaipur.
hips dont lie-
accessorize.
beauty queen.
meaningless trivia
on a
sunny winter day.
lights will guide you home..
perfume bottle.
a bit narcisstic?yes:)

Thursday, July 13, 2006

There is somthing about the way the puddles in the ditches are glittering in their dark,sinister way.I throw a rock in.Chaos for about 3 and a half seconds.Then its glittering again in the sun.


I hate ammi's perfume.How ironic that I'm the one whoe gave it to her.She was asking me who's fault it was.What an odd question.Of course,since I'm severely involved,she keeps asking and insisting and what not,but its still a very dumb question.I was distracted by my phone,(saved by the bell,eh?),and I never answered her question.I personally think its everyone's fault.


so what if you catch me,where would we land?

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

lion's mane-iron and wine

Run like a race for family
When you hear like you're alone
The rusty gears of morning
And faceless, busy phones
We gladly run in circles
But the shape we meant to make is gone

And love is a tired symphony
You hum when you're awake
And love is a crying baby
Mama warned you not to shake
And love's the best sensation
Hiding in the lion's mane

So I'll clear the road, the gravel
And the thornbush in your path
That burns a scented oil
That I'll drip into your bath
The water's there to warm you
And the earth is warmer when you laugh

And love is the scene I render
When you catch me wide awake
And love is the dream you enter
Though I shake and shake and shake you
And love's the best endeavor
Waiting in the lion's mane

stars and boulevards-augustana

Wait, dear
A white horse is walking down my street here
Your words are creeping at my feet I fear
That sunrise will come too soon and you’ll disappear
To the haze of a city and yourself
Oh no…
Look out
They’re coming after us with big guns
They’re only going to tell you all the bad things I’ve done
And even if the words they say aren’t true they’ve won
Now I’m left here dying in the sun
Oh...
Seems like I’m always on my own...
Seems like I’m never coming home
Seems like I'm always on my own...
All the stars and boulevards
Ain't close enough for you
Late nights
Won’t do me justice
When I drink I
Just get so damn depressed
And it’s, it’s not like
I ain’t trying to get over you
It’s just hard to look at all the
Seasons pass me all the time
And I said
Oh...
Seems like I'm always on my own...
Seems like I’m never coming home...
Seems like I'm always on my own...
All the stars and boulevards
Ain't close enough for you
One last
Phone call from you
It wouldn’t hurt much
I'd just like to hear your voice
And pretend to touch
Any inch of you that hasn’t
Said it all or read it all..
I sung my life away
And I say..
Oh...
Seems like I’m always on my own...
Seems like I’m never coming home
Seems like I'm always on my own...
All the stars and boulevards
Aren’t close enough for you
(Seem like I’m always on my own)
All the stars and boulevards
Aren’t close enough for you
(Seem like I’m never coming home)
All the stars and boulevards
Aren’t close enough for you
(Seem like I’m always on my own)
All the stars and boulevardsAren’t close enough for you

fair-remy zero

Hey, are you lonely?Has summer gone so slowly?
We found the ground
And that damage was done
It's cold as you fade into the sun
Where'd you go? To me?

But you're alive!
Well, it's only
Fallen frames, they told me
You stand out, it's so loud
And so what if it is?
It's cold as you face into the wind
Where'd it go to? tonight the sun shall see its light

So what if you catch me,
Where would we land?
In somebody's life
For taking his hands
Sing to me hope as she's
Thrown on the sand
All of our work
Is rated again
Where to go ?

And you were somehow the rain this thing could allow
could try
But it's all wrong
You're so strong
And this life and work
And choice took far too long
Where'd it go? tonight the sun shall see its light

So what if you catch me,
Where would we land?
In somebody's life
For taking his hands
Sing to me hope as she's
Thrown on the sand
All of our work
Is rated again

When I was sure you'd follow through
My world was turned to blue so thin
When you'd hide your songs would die
So I'd hide yours with mine
And all my words were bound to fail
I know you won't fail
See, I can tell

All dreams come true

If that's bullshit,then this is definitely a dream.There are so many questions to ask and so many stories to tell.Like why there's an ant crawling on my stomach,why that grape was as big as a mango,why a kiss doesn't taste like cold milo on a hot Lahori day.


I don't want to be anywhere but here.I make deformed sketches of us walking down a corridor.


I saw a movie today that I hadn't seen for a while,and there's this thing about being a literature student (and incidentally a human being),that as the number of times you see/touch/read/do something increases,the feeling is always different.matlab,you tear away the layers each time,until you think that there is nothing left except maybe a hollow inside,that leaves you hollow too,but there is always something.The idea of it.You think you've mastered the whole thing,but the idea inside that hollow space stays the same.So no,you're wrong.

Everything is wrong in this world.If something good happens,its a mistake God overlooked perhaps.Its a dream.A dream that comes true.

Friday, July 07, 2006

I've noticed,that neglected people either have a lot to say or nothing at all.I have a list of neglected people in my mind,whose initials I'm going to write in case woh offend ho jayein.
1.h
2.r
3.m
4.s
5.u
6.m
7.d

jose gonzalez-heartbeats

one night to be confused
one night to speed up truth
we had a promise made
four hands and then away

both under influence
we had devine scent
to know what to say
mind is a razorblade

to call for hands of above
to lean on
wouldn't be good enough
for me, no

one night of magic rush
the start a simple touch
one night to push and scream
and then relief

ten days of perfect tunes
the colors red and blue
we had a promise made
we were in love

to call for hands of above
to lean on
wouldn't be good enough
for me, no

to call for hands of above
to lean on
wouldn't be good enough

and you, you knew the hand of the devil
and you, kept us awake with wolfs teeth
sharing different heartbeats
in one night

to call for hands of above
to lean on
wouldn't be good enough
for me, no

to call for hands of above
to lean on
wouldn't be good enough

this song is love.

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

the moment

Its all standstill now,isn't it?From the witch-looking woman working in the kitchen to the heat hiding behind the curtains,its all stopped.But only for a moment.A miraculous idea/thought/feeling has burst open in my head and I sip at the milo till it can be sipped no more.I think it,savour it,taste it with the tip of my tongue.It has the power to make me feel all sorts of things...doubt,love,courage,pity.I hurry past the inconsequential,looking for what I'm really looking for.I jaldi se plaster the desired feeling on my line of thought cuz I know the moment's almost over,and sure enough,the heat starts to make the curtains rustle in anguish and the witch woman in the kitchen still has the spatula in the air.I come out of my momentary utopia/lapse,and life resumes itself.


Man.
That felt good=)

Saturday, July 01, 2006

i adjust flowers in my unwashed hair to feel better.
they always work=)

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

angry musings

I would outweigh the manner of your balanced life.I would do so many things I'm not meant to.Scream and throw pool furniture around,eat chocolate wrapped in tissue paper.You know,weird stuff.My mother watches from afar at what I've become.She's too far off than I would have liked her to be,but thats just how things are now.


Yesterday,Dad kept telling me how everyone in the States is doing so well.I know its his way of tempting me into things,he knows me too well sometimes.I just told him 'Its great to hear that,Dad.They shoould be happy about it too,cuz not all of us are fortunate enough to do what we want to'.Dreams are for rookies.But why can't we stop dreaming?He told me I have a brilliantly intelligent mind,and that I'm so expressive about things.'You're wasting yourself,betay'.What the fuck am I supposed to do,then?I wish I could run away like you do all the time,find solace in measly things,but I can't.Existence is all about compromise.I gave up myself so my mother could live with the fucking excuse she gives herself all the time.I should feel proud.Whatever.I'm proud to be a big ballad of nothing.


I walked around with a sour taste in my mouth.A stench in my pjs.At chuggi's,I described the real feeling of home.How,for me,its comes from the smell of my pillow and the texture of meaningless things lying around that no one bothers picking up till its too late.Then she drew a silver heart on my ass,and I stopped being my philosophical self.

The string thats woven us together will break one day,unless you don't do something to save me.I asked you to stay.What if I want to leave?That's the whole problem.My entire life,I've been unsure about everything,and now you're a part of my collection of 'unsure things that mean too much and I don't know what to do'.heh.what a bitch.what a cold,hard bitch.


Zehra named the punching bag 'Gul',and I hit it till my knuckles almost bled.I don't why.My knuckles still hurt.


So four girls figured out at 2am that the hole of the vagina is the size of your nostril,and the one-eyed snake is...well....a lot bigger than that.So we're all kind of in a dilemma about whether we want to 'do it' or not.


hmm...lets see.God save the queen.Yes.That sounds about right.

Sunday, June 18, 2006

he has this uncouth seriousness about him.shrewd,focused.i've never seen such eyes.i know he's somewhere else and one of his many selfs is all we mortals are allowed to amuse ourselves with.he has no incredible specialness around him,no talents a normal 18 yr old should have,yet there is something about the way he is unsure how to carry himself that makes you want him to steal a pot for you.
he moves silently.all around.
he's hot too=)

Saturday, June 17, 2006

6:12 am.

thank you=)

Thursday, June 15, 2006

my pait is kharab,but i'm going to try to write anyway.

its a bit wonderous how we dont talk about...you know.each other's important people.i shut you up whenever you're about to start,and you shut me up when i'm about to start.thora ajeeb sa nahin lagta?i sat down once and wondered what it would be like if...kuch aur hota aur ye na hota.phir pata nahin kya hota.

mein uss din koka lene gayi,but all the kokas were so weird.too big for my nose hole.when i found the perfect one,it fell out cuz i was crying too much.and then i had this weird thought.I've been on the look-out for so long for this thing.and now that i have the perfect one,and i dont cry anymore,i wonder if it'll fall out.you know.like that koka.

Sunday, June 11, 2006

Bottled thoughts

Today I used a shampoo that said ‘for flat and limp hair without life’.

Weird as this is to say, I froze in the shower. What the fuck was the person who wrote this thinking? What did he think life was? Easy enough to be packaged in a bottle?

Life happened to everyone, and no one got the hang of it till their eyes bulged from the amount of crying they’d done. No one knew what to make of the stains in their underwears, or the make-up they applied so carelessly. No one knew how to eat their melted chocolate properly so they wouldn’t get sticky fingers baad mein.No one knew how to tune the chords so that they strung together in harmony.

Its only when you are transported back and forth and back again that you go, Shit.Ye tou déjà vu ho gaya hai.Certain events you go through and tiny experiences you have gather up to form this one big ball of life, in which an infinite number of people are strung together by the same thin string, except you tie the knots of some people tighter than the others.

For example,Ammi gave me a pickled mango today and I took the skin off and sucked on the seed part the exact same way I used to as a kid in the U.S,when pickled mangoes came from far away lands and used to be a rare luxury I enjoyed alone on the concrete steps leading to the house.From then to now, I’ve sucked on many pickled mangoes in the same way, yet there was something about this particular one that transported me back to those concrete steps many a fall sun ago. Probably the shape or the atmosphere, I don’t know what. But the pickled mango I had today is significant in the sense that it was one of those few moments in a week or in a month or in a year that I realize that life has happened to me.

I looked around the table to see if anyone else was caught in a moment like I was. If so, it was hard to tell. Everyone lies so easily, it’s scary. And what’s scarier is that none of anything makes sense sometimes. Yet we continue living in hope that something will someday happen and everything that once never made sense will all seem so clear now. And that, is the scariest thought of all=).

Friday, June 09, 2006

The Weeping Willow

Divya didn’t know what to do. Throwing rocks at Sunil had certainly gotten his attention, and now he was looking for the culprit amidst the cornfield where she was hiding. After many minutes of listening intently and shifting her position so as to stay hidden, Divya was sure he must’ve grown weary. She marched out of the cornfield with a pompous stride only to find herself face to face with Sunil. She stopped dead in her tracks as his eyes bore into hers.
‘Kyun bhai? Agar koi masla hai tou batao mere ko’
She shook her head uncertainly.
‘Ek lappar maroon ga na,hosh thikanay aa jayein ge’
‘Kyun?!Lappar kyun maro ge?Tere ko patthar hee mara hai na,kaunsa juram kiya hai?’
‘Befkoof chokri.Maloom hai kitni zor ka lagta hai? Idher aao zaraa, Baba ke samnay batata hoon kitni zor ka lagta hai’

And with that he pulled at her duppatta towards him, out of the cornfield. She yielded only to maintain her dignity and haughtiness, yanking her duppatta out of his hand as they walked along the river bank scattered with upright willows.
Apart from the fact that Divya had the most beautiful eyes in the whole village, Sunil rarely or never seemed to notice. Not that she wanted him to. Her jaw was always set a certain way when she talked to him, all authoritative and shit.Her eyes would go all narrow as if she suspected something was up and her whole being would be alert.

Except when they would sit by the river bank and race about who would finish their sugarcane first. She had to stop chewing on her sugarcane cuz the sight of its juice dribbling down his chin was just so funny. Only then would he notice how magnificently her eyes shined with tears of joy. And he would stop chewing too, not because she was so beautiful laughing, but because of how it suddenly put him into a deep thought. Of course, the feeling would go away as readily as it had come, and the sun would go down on the river.
She would notice how sturdy his gaze was when they were doing inane things like collecting leaves of different trees or poking into neighboring houses to listen in on conversations. He would fix his eyes on an unmoving object like a door chain or a branch and concentrate hard on whatever he was doing. It was at that point when she felt like she didn’t know him at all. That he was in a world so far beyond hers that she’s given up chasing after him.

And now they had grown. Two souls made from the same dirt. The yin and the yang and everything in between.
The day he told her he was leaving, she laughed. Of course it was an amazing opportunity, but those kind of things didn’t happen to people like them.’Isay apnay achay buray ka pata hee nahin hai.Sari akal mein ne jo le lee hai’, she thought to herself, and walked off.
It was only when he didn’t come leaf-picking or star-gazing or eavesdropping, that it slowly began to seep in. And all of a sudden, conversation was a rare luxury neither of them couldn’t afford anymore. The heavy silence stuck in their throats like maple on wood. And as the dust collected behind the carriage that took him away, Divya crouched on the river bank as the willows wept with her.

That’s how they got their shape=).

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

secret admirer

years from now, we will sit down together
and i'll tell you exactly how much i've loved you
and we'll join heads and cry-
in ode to memories we forgot to make.

Wednesday, May 31, 2006

i'm scrounging about for the silliest pictures possible and scanning them.LOVELY TIMES I'VE HAD.and i think once upon a time my parents were in love...you know?cuz i'm looking through this hoard of memories..and i remember mom telling me how dad used to constantly sneak up on her and take a picture.he's like me.he likes capturing moments,even if they're not worth capturing,but they prove their worth when you come across them 15 years later,you know?that kinda thing he does,and i do.except i dont carry a camera around ALL the time..and when i cant take pictures,i write about things.

ok i forgot what i was going to blog about.*shakes fist at moe*

Thursday, May 25, 2006

I believe in memories,they look so..
so pretty when I sleep
and when I wake up you look so pretty
sleeping next to me
=)

*big star*

to red bull,kinky cheese toast,tattoos,piercings and the purple head bobbing up and down in the sun.today was a magical day and i love you all for making it that.

Monday, May 22, 2006

precious

A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds, "What does love mean?" The answers they got were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined. See what you think:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love." Rebecca- age 8
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth." Billy - age 4
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other." Karl - age 5
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs." Chrissy - age 6
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Love is what makes you smile when you're tired." Terri - age 4
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK." Danny - age 7
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. My Mommy and Daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss" Emily - age 8
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen." Bobby - age 7
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate," Nikka - age 6
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday." Noelle - age 7
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well." Tommy - age 6
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore." Cindy - age 8
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"My mommy loves me more than anybody . You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night." Clare - age 6
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken." Elaine-age 5
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford." Chris - age 7
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day." Mary Ann - age 4 --------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones." Lauren - age 4
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you." Karen - age 7
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Love is when Mommy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn't think it's gross." Mark - age 6
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget." Jessica - age 8
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
And the final one -- Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was asked to judge. The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child. The winner was a four year old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there. When his Mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said, "Nothing, I just helped him cry"
(baby,this one's for you=))

'my laptop is your bitch'

so i'm sitting here,correction,lying on my stomach in a mysteriously dark room,chuggi's feet on my ass,fooling around while she sleeps.she's such a complacent stuffed panda when she sleeps.its when she wakes up...

kher anyway.got a thaila full of tootsie roll candy.CANDY.candy.candy makes me happy.like super-hAPpy.she's got back from an unknown world..yet i cant help but think nothing's changed..sitting eating pasta on a stool...talking about random people and discuss how and what and why things happen.its the same,really.the only thing that's changed is time.so much time stretched in between.but i have this feeling that i'm going to get my life back this summer.i mean,just watching her run around screaming for no reason,getting used to the spirit of the ground beneath her,i know there's something familiar beneath her.and i know that there will be others who follow her soon.others who will want to feel what she is feeling right now.something i want to feel too.

this summer,i will rediscover myself.and i owe it all to you guys.i love you so much.