Remember the bridge in Newport? I think we both agreed it's like a highway to heaven, a gate to paradise. It's so worthwhile, the waiting for your realisation, the awakening of you, I know it and know it so much now. On halfway, there were tears flooding my pillow, music played a thousand times. Then I knew Loving also makes you strong.
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Version 1 of a day in life!!
- 7:00 - WAKE UP!!!
Kiss and makeup,
7:00-8:00 - stretch, exercise, shower, eggs and tea.
Few moments of sitting still.. on the couch, watching her move.
8:05-8:30 - Pack lunch, skim the news.
9:00 - 12.30 - Work and some more...
12.30-13.30 - Lunch and, if possible
kiss and makeup, chat and sh
What must we seek? Beauty, Happiness, Knowledge, or Justice.
A relative increase in any of these virtues will lead to slight betterment in the world, this I do not doubt.
But beauty and happiness are subjective, and individual pursuits--to each their own.
There is a girl in my discussion group, and she is sitting across me. Can't avoid looking at her, because she is right there. Because she is pretty.
But she moves her eyes around. She never really looks at the face of the person who is speaking. She glances up and down, right and left, looking in the general direction of the sound. But never really directly at the person.
" in 1326, an ill-fated laborer by the name of Richard the Raker fell into a cesspool and literally drowned in human shit."
Source. Johnson, Steven. "The Ghost Map". pp 9. New York 2006 (Penguin)
Using my intuition
I sense the screams of
our mutual frustration
When I tell you to go
When Donts love you anymo'
When Do-es bear colors of broken rain
Bleed you to death, tis only fair
They suffer at our hands
When we fuck her
When we suck her
And laugh about in sick disgust
Sitting here forcing lines
word forms of silent minds
singing along my silly songs
the paper clowns are dancing in the rain
The paper clowns are washing their sins
painting my life in blue and purple
shades of your delayed image
bells and broken keys that open doors
to hollow empty rooms
Why is the subject of official emails so important? Why is the subject for journal posts required?
hi, just this new thing i found. hope it works. its suddenly more difficult. more than we like to believe? we envy them more than we like each other isn't it great, how just liking someone never matters to them. we feel lost and yet waiting to be full which matters if only to us.
SMS # 2
Puuch: "Ok we are gonna start now. Did you fill the form that I gave you?"
Juuth: "Yes, here it is."
p: "Good. I am gonna start with some personal questions. You dont need to be completely honest. And try Not to think too much about it. Is that ok?"
p: "When was the last time you talked with your dad?"
j: "A few days back. He called me."
p: "Does he call you often?"
The meaning of "rejectee"
Communication is made so easy these days. You talk with your love-ones and your hate-tons over long distances -- phone, sms, chat, email, a 20 hr long flight with 4 days of jet lag. Communication is made so easy these days.
But it comes at a price... and you are aksed to pay more for the cheaper options. The ease brought about by the miracles of science and capitalism distance us from primitive joys, which are still best at short range. The look in he
Look for the bare necessities
The simple bare necessities
forget about your worries and your stress
Where do all the idealists come from? And what happens to all of these insignificant clowns, these... them.
Today the newspaper told me another mudassira-like story. Only this mudassira was three years old, and her ex-drug addict poor wretched and miserable father was acting out of pure concern and love for her, and his other two daughters... 5 and 9. The 38 year old beast could not make sense of his life, and could see no future for him and his daughters. Who would feed them, educate them, find them suitable matches and pay the dowry.
Two blue socks lying in my backpack
Remind me of the night,
when you and I
Sat in the theatre
and pondered and mused and laughed
at the twisted fake lives
drifting in and out,
i can see u smile
incapable of being subtle,
looked at your face
all the while
The news of the day.
It starts with sorrow
The touch of your hollow stares
My head in her hand
And we quietly agree
On this exchange of
thoughts and smiles
I share my suffering
And wish to see you
play with your hair